Alchimia Rex

"ATTACK!"

Urtha roared the command, and with it, the relentless beat of the drums stopped. Now, only the tribe's unified battle cry pierced the night.

Every structure along the main street had been brought low for the sake of this "trap". The plan hinged on a single prevailing premise: a wild stampede was predictable. To ensure the ferals’ loss of control, they’d aimed to overwhelm all of their senses. Rick had dubbed it "jamming," but everyone else referred to it as torture. They'd resorted to stuffing wax plugs into their nostrils and ears just to make the ordeal somewhat tolerable.

And what a sight it had been. Hundreds of ferals had been caught under the toppling buildings, completely blind and uncaring in their suicidal charge. Now it was the tribe’s job to move.

Maidens operated in units of five. Three Orcs lugged enormous, interlocking shields capable of forming a protective dome, while the fourth maiden - a mousegirl - led them through the darkness. The final member, a Hobgoblin or some other fire-wielder, was tasked with incinerating everything that might be a feral, be they alive or dead.

Their progression was deliberate and steady. It wasn't a battle—it was extermination. The militia, concealed behind wooden barriers and armed with spears, stood ready on the periphery, prepared to halt any creature that tried to escape the killing fields.

Everything had been planned around keeping themselves guarded and invisible from the sky. The less the enemy could see, the less things she could target. If they couldn’t deal with one of the elites, then their goal was to minimize how much damage they could make.

Urtha and her team were there to deal with the second elite, the one who’d led the charge. Unlike other teams, hers had the puny blood-sucker as their eyes in the darkness. More importantly, they were equipped with the handful of weapons the Father had been able to help them create.

"HERE!"

The cry was echoed by a red flare ascending into the sky from across the battlefield. A cloud of dust erupted upwards, debris flying in every direction, punctuated by the unmistakable death-roar of several Orcs.

In that instant, the sky fell. A singular, perfectly straight beam of light shattered down to the earth with a deafening thunderous roar. For a fleeting instant, they could see the world around them - the sea of debris, the defeated ferals still desperately attempting to dig their way out, the pools of blood, the scorch marks.

"Seraphim," Eva uttered the word with the fear of a timid greenlet, gripping her own smaller shield so tightly it creaked in protest. “Why would they expose themselves?”

Because they were going to die. "We move!" Urtha commanded instead, quickening their pace in the direction the flare had come from.

"WALL!"

Barely had Eva shrieked the command, pointing directly ahead, that the three Orcs reacted. Their shields shifted, two curved triangles forming a barrier against the ground while Urtha manipulated the third as a wedge between them while angling it so as to keep them protected from the skies.

The blow that followed pushed all three of them back, sparks dancing wildly against the black sky. Urtha grit her teeth, she’d been hit by the Chieftess’ full strength, and it paled compared to this!

"RIGHT SIDE! HIGH!"

Sheel lined up the shot, and a torrent of crimson fire roared past their shield's curve. The silhouette of the armored maiden flickered into existence momentarily before the flames were extinguished as though they had never existed.

"Down!" Urtha ordered, yanking Sheel.

The sky collapsed a second time that night, striking the spot Sheel had been pulled from a mere split second earlier. Another rumble of thunder echoed through their bones, the stone and wood debris radiating a heated red glow.

Their target wouldn't grant them a moment's rest.

"SPLIT!" Eva's voice pierced the blinding rumble still echoing inside Urtha’s skull.

Urtha and one of her sisters sprang left, hauling the blood-drinker along. Sheel and the remaining Orc dove in the opposite direction. An ax cleaved the ground, showering them in a rain of sparks and molten stone, revealing the dented, darkened armor of the Malumari. The gaze from within the visor was cold, sharp as a blade.

Urtha felt the surge of power buffet her body like a sea of jagged thorns. "You call this intimidation!?" She bellowed, channeling her power into her skin, fortifying it further as she propelled herself forward, shield leading the charge. The massive slab of layered orcwood connected solidly, slamming into her opponent with a satisfying thump.

The armored body was sent into the darkness. The sky above flashed in brilliance, the spear of light struck down at Urtha’s shield with its wrath, a power that buckled her knees and made her bones tremble. The thunder that followed left her grateful she’d not removed the earplugs, else she’d be deaf. An ominously glowing, perfectly circular spot adorned the upper part of her curved shield, glaring in warning.

Squinting, Urtha spotted their target, the armored maiden illuminated by a dim purple glow, gauntleted hand tracing cryptic patterns in the air. “Sprout!” The Orc called.

"It's a healing spell!" came the prompt reply.

"THROW!" Urtha roared, her metal club gesturing at the enemy.

At her command, all three of her sisters pulled spears with bulbous tips and launched them. Only Sheel’s ignited mid-flight, trailing fire as they whistled forward thirsty for blood. Embla gestured at the spears, and the fire vanished in a flicker. The maiden hesitated, and abruptly leapt away as if suddenly aware of the true threat. The instant the spears impacted against the debris, all three of them unleashed a concussive blast of sound, fire, and light that knocked her off balance.

Embla’s disrupted spell retaliated, lashing out in a burst of purple that seared the maiden’s armor, leaving scorch marks.

It was impossible to miss the apprehension, the maiden glancing at where the spears had landed with a tension that had not been there. "I wield the weapons of the Father!" Urtha bellowed, a call that was echoed by every other maiden in the city. "Sheel! Light a path!"

United, the trio of Orcs hoisted their shields to ward off the sky. Meanwhile, Sheel began lobbing bundles of oil-soaked cloth she set aflame, the Malumari’s power allowed her to extinguish elemental flame, but not normal one.

The crimson light sources scattered around them, casting a sufficient glow to properly reveal their adversary. Instantly, another blow descended from the sky, striking their interlocked shields. “Hold!” Urtha commanded, holding the weight along her two sisters while Sheel’s hands ignited.

Embla swung her massive ax against the empty air twice, finishing the gesture by pointing its tip at them. At the same time she did this, her left hand traced a different spell, the maiden slowly advancing towards them.

"She's starting a curse," Eva whispered, pale skin glowing against the red sheen of the fire, the maiden looking even paler than normal as she held the pear-tipped spear tightly.

A flash of brilliance fell upon them, completely enveloping their group behind curtains of blinding white light. The force was less intense due to its dispersion, yet it removed their ability to see entirely.

Urtha reacted on instinct, breaking formation and lunging ahead of the group, wedging her shield into the ground. The ax's impact against her shield battered her whole body, sending her rolling across the debris, sparks dancing around her eyes, the parts of her that hadn’t been protected stinging from the burning light from above.

“Protect Urtha!”

Sheel had cast a stream of fire directly at the spot Urtha had occupied, intending to strike at the armored enemy. But Embla had leapt over the group. Almost as if suspended in mid-air, the glowing hand pointed directly at Urtha, purple power crackling like some kind of maniacal flame.

The Orc’s first instinct was to pull the shield up, but she was only holding a tiny piece; the rest had broken off from the first attack. The flame shot at her like a vengeful Lamia, whistling across the night sky with gnashing fury.

From the shadows emerged Eva, hurling her shield with everything she had. It met with the curse halfway to Urtha, unleashing a blast of heat and sound, the weapon turning into a rain of flaming splinters. The Orc grimaced, suppressing the shock that a curse would actually carry enough power to gain some semblance of physical force.

That would have been ugly had it hit.

The falling Malumari continued her arc towards Urtha, ax descending upon them with an unstoppable force.

"Move!"

There was no time for thought; Urtha kicked the Fledgling out of the way, putting everything she could into the upward swing of her metal club. She barely managed to knock the falling ax out of the way before it could cleave her in two, sparks flying across the air. The weapon struck the ground, a burst of rocks and debris jumping out in every direction.

Embla thrust her head forward in a savage headbutt that made Urtha stumble back.

"IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT!?" The Orc roared, recovering her balance to step forward and return the favor.

"No."

She didn’t even see the metallic fist, only felt its impact against her chin that was immediately followed by the world spinning out of control. Urtha’s knees lost all strength, dropping to the ground, ears ringing and tusks throbbing, she blinked slowly, unable to understand why she wasn’t eye to eye with the armored Malumari anymore, or how her limbs were so sluggish.

Pillars of light struck the earth behind Embla, targeting the two Orcs and Hobgoblin, pinning them in place. The ground shuddered and shook, the air vibrating, heat exploding outwards with blinding light.

Orc and Malumari met gazes, the ax rose into the air in a silent promise, the brutal weapon held aloft by a lone arm.

Eva rushed between the two, lunging with a scream, bulbous spear thrusting forward with trembling hands. The act was a desperate clumsy attempt, one Embla reacted to instinctively, slapping the weapon out of the way, a gesture that would’ve ensured an easy removal of the weakling any other day.

The moment the spear’s tip was touched, it exploded. Both maidens were engulfed in its ignition, sending Eva crashing away with smoldering arms while Embla tumbled away, losing balance and getting caught in the irregular terrain.

The ringing in Urtha’s ears was incessant as she gradually regained strength in her legs. There was no time for contemplation, while still fighting to recover full control over her limbs, the metal club whistled through the air, the Malumari barely dodging as her free hand began tracing patterns in the air again.

If there was one thing the blood-sucker and Father had insisted upon, it was that Embla could not be allowed to finish a spell. “Fire-casters to me!” Urtha roared, each step surer than the last. Whatever the Malumari had done to her was wearing off.

Fireballs—about twenty in total—arched across the sky in her direction, launched from all around, every team that could spare the effort taking the shot. Embla reacted with a glare aimed at Urtha before pulling her power, the air trembling around her body, purple flickers of light sparking into existence. With a shout, power was unleashed in every direction, and the fireballs vanished upon contact with it.

Embla retrieved her weapon and swung her blade over her head twice, pointing it at Urtha. The Orc recognized the signal scrambled to duck out of the way of what should have been an attack from the Seraphim. The beam of light did not strike where she’d been, however, as one of the buildings at the periphery was caught instead.

Shrill screams followed, repeating as the beam of light then targeted another building, and then another, and another. Fire rose all around the sea of rubble as the city began to burn.

“What the…?” Embla was the one to talk, frozen as her visor panned all around them.

Alarm bells rang out from every direction, the militia giving the signal that they could not hold positions. Urtha did not see any ferals, however, yet there was one clear reason why they would scatter so readily.

“You’re targeting the humans.”

Her jaw fixed, tightening as she turned her glare at the Malumari. The armored maiden stood still, barely gripping her ax as she observed the spreading flames.

With a roar, Urtha stormed toward the maiden, brandishing her metal club with every ounce of ferocity that burned within her. The Malumari maiden, more out of instinct than deliberate thought, raised her weapon to block, using its thick shaft as a shield.

“Is this what you wanted!?” The Orc bellowed, not slowing any as she pulled back just to hammer down at the maiden’s weapon again.

Embla was startled, capable of taking the blows but barely able to muster any initiative other than a rushed counter-attack. Urtha hit the ax out of the way and took the chance to strike at the enemy’s exposed flank, barely missing as the Mulamari weaved out of the way.

The momentary hesitation was gone, the Malumari cleaving at the dirt with enough force to shower Urtha in rocks and dirt. With the distance the attack created for her, Embla shifted her stance, holding the weapon closer to the very edge of the shaft. Urtha could sense the shift in the air, their opponent was about about to take a different approach to the battle.

With a grunt of effort Embla swung her blade with explosive speed, so much so in fact, that her body flew right after it, the maiden intentionally breaking her own solid footing. Urtha barely had the chance to deflect the blow as the assault began.

Lost was all caution, the Malumari took her brutal strength to hurl her weapon and herself at Urtha. While Orcs were trained to always have their feet firmly connected to the ground, the armored maiden was closer to a rag-doll. She used her own weapon’s massive weight to shift the center of mass and allow her to spend as much time in the air as she did grounded. Each swing of the colossal ax would be followed by her using her body like a flail, turning every missed attack from her weapon into an opportunity to strike with metal-clad boots and fists.

This was no longer a strategic battle, there was no longer consideration for the presence of other maidens. Embla was throwing everything she had at Urtha, and the Orc was forced in a slow retreat. Every blow from the ax could split her in halt, and every savage kick left her hardened bones teetering at the edge of breaking.

Bruises began to accumulate on Urtha’s body, faster than she could heal them, her mace was being chipped away with every deflection of the ax. She had to buy time, as powerful as the maiden was, none could outmatch her endurance.

“Fire!”

The voice came from Sheel, and it nearly startled Urtha. The first instinct was to growl at the wave of fireballs coming their way. Couldn’t she see the fight had changed? But she wasn’t about to let it get the better of her. The moment Embla unleashed her power to snuff out the flames, the Orc took her gamble, lunging forward and throwing her mace with everything she had.

Caught by surprise, Embla could only block it.

The ax’s handle could not bear the abuse it had gone through along the attack, wood splintering and being rendered useless. The ax’s heavy metal head bounced against the stone, both maidens breathing heavily.

Urtha pulled her new weapons from her back, a far smaller shield than the portable curved wall, and a orcwood hammer.

Grim determination emerged from Embla’s voice. “Well done,” she declared, discarding the fragments. Without a moment's hesitation, she retrieved the metal club and gave it a few experimental swings. “This is a good weapon.” She removed her helmet. White hair danced in the air, her dark skin and pointed ears were her most striking features.

The maiden diverted her gaze from Urtha, toward the enclosing wall, and then the ominous sky overhead as it continued to indiscriminately rain fire upon the city. She took a deep breath, and with the exhale, the power that had clung to the Malumari dissipated.

“What did you do?” Urtha questioned, raising the secondary shield with her left hand while clutching the hammer’s shaft tightly in the other.

“They’ve given up on the attack,” Embla murmured, ignoring the question, her gaze glued to the sky. “This is a ploy to sow discord, a strategy to buy them time for a retreat.”

“And you?”

The Malumari locked gazes. “I fight.” The Orc had heard that tone before, she’d heard it of many a Chieftess, back before she’d conquered them. It was the tone of a warrior that knew they’d lost but would not surrender, defeat would need to be hammered into their skulls. “What’s your name?”

“Urtha.”

“Those are quite the peculiar weapons you have there, Urtha,” Embla proclaimed.

The hammer with the oversized head left much to be desired, if compared to a normal weapon. Its balance was atrocious, and the item could do with a better handle. Meanwhile, the shield was no less strange, tall enough to match her stature, curved, and adorned with fist-sized lumps all over its surface. “They were crafted under the Father’s guidance.”

“Like the spears.” The Malumari studied it briefly, then shook her head. “My human, his name is Barry and he has hair like fire. He isn’t to blame for any of this; we pulled him into our conflict.”

This was a truth that all maidens accepted. Urtha nodded in understanding. “He will be caught, not killed.”

Embla’s tension eased, shoulders relaxing slightly, she reciprocated the nod.

Nothing more needed to be said.

They stared, measuring each other up, gauging.

Rubble erupted as Embla lunged forward in a sudden burst of movement. Urtha reacted, angling her shield slightly upward to absorb the impact.

BANG

Several of the lumps exploded outward, showering Embla with fire, the force of the explosion thrusting the club skyward. The maiden was left off balance, shock etched across her face as Urtha capitalized on the moment, delivering an uppercut swing with her hammer.

A glimmer of realization flickered across her face, recognizing the danger lurking within. The maiden forcefully kicked off the ground, spinning backward in a swift pirouette, her leg striking out to connect with Urtha’s jaw with a bone-shattering force.

Undeterred, Urtha charged forward, dismissing the pain. She thrust her shield at the maiden in a brutal, upward swing aimed at her exposed back before the full pirouette could complete and her feet could find the ground once more.

BANG

The remaining clusters exploded with Urtha’s added force behind the attack, throwing the maiden up into the air.

Embla didn’t even lose her composure, her feet glowing as her body spun, freezing mid-air while facing downward as if she’d found a foothold on an unseen ceiling. With a ferocious scream, she pushed off downwards, swinging her club with single-minded determination to shatter Urtha’s body.

Without a moment's hesitation, the Orc summoned every ounce of energy within her to meet the blow with her shield, feeling the crushing impact on her shield, her arm, and her shoulder. And as it did, she struck downwards with her hammer, targeting the Malumari’s spine.

BOOM

A wave of heat and light accompanied the familiar sensation of burning pain up her arm.

But this time, she managed to not budge.

With her left arm grotesquely mangled beyond recognition and the right one missing everything after the forearm, the Orc stood triumphant over her defeated adversary. The explosive strike had pierced through the annoying armor and straight through the maiden’s lower back.

The maiden lay sprawled on the ground, barely moving, fighting to breathe. “Why… why didn’t you kill me?” She managed to gasp out each word through a series of bloodied, clenched coughs.

Urtha felt a mix of annoyance and relief. “The Father ordered us to take you in alive if we could.”

Embla groaned. “You lie.” She coughed, arms straining, but legs entirely unresponsive.

The Orc straightened out. “He thought you were worth keeping as a prisoner, he just didn’t say it out loud.” To be exact, he’d instructed them all to fight to ensure they made it back whatever the cost. But there was something else she knew he needed to do, a wound he needed to mend.

“Just… kill me.”

“Do it yourself.” Urtha stood next to the downed enemy. “I’ll tell that Barry of yours you preferred death.”

Embla’s eyes flared defiantly, her jaw clenching tightly as a trembling hand began to weave what she now recognized as a healing spell. Urtha picked up her trusty metal club and watched closely. The spell wasn’t powerful, it only stopped the bleeding and mended some minor cuts, the spine still looked very much shattered, though it was hard to tell seeing how much of the armor had been mangled with the flesh.

“Chain her up, get her some Polita juice.” She frowned, shifting her attention to the city. The beams had stopped altogether, but everything appeared to have caught in flames. “Sprout, go to the harbor and contact the Neigixs, they’ve got orders to start some rain the moment the sky is safe. Until then, they need to stop the wind so the fires can be contained.”

The blood-sucker looked just about recovered from the fight, drained, but with her own regeneration having patched up most of the injuries. “And… her?”

“We’ll keep her as a prisoner.” She flinched slightly, feeling something within herself, from the bond. Urtha shared a concerned look with Sprout, the Fledgling had felt that odd sensation as well. “Get moving.”