Reluctantly, Knight Harold Angleton released his connection to the command channel monitoring the other assault forces. Even with his years of training, maintaining so many connections during combat was straining his center. He would have to limit himself only to the connections to the troops he was leading.

  ‘The other assault forces are doing their job, and I just have to focus on mine. Battle Leader Averrett will let me know if there’s something I should be made aware of,’ he reminded himself.

  Noticing another section of their formation buckling, he reached out with his ability to create a series of curved shields to slow down the kobalds. While it wouldn’t stop them, it would buy the team leaders time to swap out their troops for uninjured fighters.

  With a flex of his center, he swept a five-foot wide horizontal shield in front of him, decapitating multiple kobalds and injuring several more. He could feel his mind struggling to monitor everything behind him causing his attention to falter. Gritting his teeth in annoyance at the feelings of exhaustion coming off the area with the healers, he had no choice but to push on.

  Attempting to project confidence and control over the assault force's command channel, he shouted, “Keep pushing! We’re almost there!”

  Switching his attention to the command channel just for the team leaders, he added, “When we arrive at the tunnel, we’re not going to have time for anything fancy. Just spread out and form a battle line. We need to get control of the entrance quickly or we’ll be overrun.”

  In response, he heard one of the scouts with the best long-range perception, Erikson, shout, “30 units, sir. But we have a team of larger kobalds and shamans inbound. They’ll be arriving on our right flank around the time we’ll get there.”

  While reaching out and exploding a kobald’s head with a backhand, Knight Angleton replied, “Understood. I’ll hold the middle myself. Blackwood, take Davis and Richardson to reinforce that side of the defensive line.”

  After receiving their confirmations, he returned his focus to the fighting. He could feel his center reserves dropping as he struggled to maintain his iron will. Even though they’d only been in combat for twenty or thirty minutes, he’d rarely in his life been pushed this hard. Every moment from the time he’d broken through the kobald’s outer wall, he’d been forced to use his ability and expanded senses to keep his troops alive and moving forward, all while physically having to lead the charge.

  As he kicked a wounded kobald hard enough to launch it back into the swarm like a missile, shattering its chest and turning it into a ranged bludgeoning weapon, he recited the catechism of intent to reaffirm his identity and recover his center. Despite no longer being in the army, he was still a knight, and now more than ever he knew who he was.

  Flickering his attention over the heads of the swarm, he saw the entrance they were heading for appear. They were almost there, just a little further and they’d be able to establish a solid defensive position and buy a little time for the healers to get a few of the people who’d fallen resuscitated and back in the fight. Hopefully, the kobalds would lose interest when the formation was no longer in the middle of their encampment.

  Shouting out his orders between the multiple command channels for the assault force, he quickly arranged the defensive combat line. He was happy to see the melee fighters spreading out and covering each other as if they’d been training together for years.

  Flexing his ability, he created a corridor for the rest of the formation to run through while the new static combat line was established. He gritted his teeth at the sight of so many bodies being carried by injured troops dragging themselves in a sad mockery of a run.

  Battle Leader Averrett called out over the team leader command channel, “I’ll take care of clearing the tunnel with Keening and Harring’s teams.”

  Replying quickly, he said, “Understood. Let me know if there are any surprises we need to worry about.”

  Trusting that she had it handled, he focused on keeping the combat line in place. While he continued to cut down kobalds one after another, he reached out with his senses to keep aware of what was happening across the entrance. No longer having to watch over the entire formation allowed him the freedom to take a much more active role in the defenses. His shields became much easier to place, and he could see the troops being more judicial with their abilities in turn.

  Shouting his orders calmly, he was satisfied to see the line holding strong. Already the kobalds were somewhat calming down, happy to keep them where they were, their furor at seeing them in the middle of their encampment sputtering out. They were by no means letting them be, but their tenacity and desire to see them all dead at the cost of their own lives was slightly diminished.

  Time passed and he watched more and more troops swapping out with fresh soldiers returning from their healing. He knew they couldn’t stay here indefinitely, but he hadn’t heard the all-clear from the healers, so he assumed they were still working on resuscitating the dead.

  ‘What in the damned hells is taking so long?’ he wondered.

  Right as he was about to turn his senses toward the tunnel behind him to get a better idea of what was happening, he heard Vickas, the head of the healer contingent, call out over the command channel, “Sir, everyone who could be resuscitated has been, and we’re ready to move out on your order if its absolutely necessary.”

  Curious as to why the woman’s presence felt so satisfied but not having the time to find out, he instead began ordering the battle line to slowly retreat into the tunnel. Step by step, the line condensed, allowing more and more troops to fall back. He watched as the shield the mages were maintaining over their head shrank to only cover the upper areas of the entrance until it was finally released when they were all inside.

  With a grim nod at the successful maneuver, he ordered Blackwood to take control of the battle line. He needed to take a moment to confer with the scouts, Battle Leader Averrett, and the healers. Also to regrettably take stock of their losses.

  Turning away from the sounds of the fighting, he sighed in relief at the sight of so many troops having made it. He ran his senses over them group by group, quickly finding that they were in much better spirits than he expected them to be.

  ‘Where are the bodies of the troops they hadn’t been able to resuscitate?’ he wondered.

  Not ten feet from the battle line, his approach was cut off by Healer Vickas running up to him.

  “Sir, Lord Walker was able to save everyone. No casualties to report aside from the few bodies we were unable to recover and therefore left behind,” she declared proudly while glancing over Knight Angleton’s shoulder at the troops who were still fighting. “While we can move out right now, I’d recommend giving our healers some time to recover… not to mention Lord Walker. He pushed his center further than he should have and needs some time to recover.”

  Mentally trying to catch up with the implications of what Vickas was saying, Knight Angleton replied somewhat awkwardly, “None? But some of those people died early in the fighting, didn’t they? That was nearly 40 minutes ago… how is that possible?”

  Before he could listen to Vickas’ response, his attention was drawn to the side of the tunnel which was currently filled with excited people hovering around the young lord trying to get him to eat something or forcibly offering him a drink from their canteens.

  While Vickas rambled on about soul resonance and intent, sounding more like a petitioner from the religious district than the researcher he knew she was, he remained focused on how exhausted Lord Walker looked.

  Knight Angleton could see that the young man had plopped himself down on that wooden stump he always seemed to carry around with him, right there in the middle of the tunnel. Lord Walker had obviously been bleeding from his eyes and ears, the clearest sign of center over-use he’d ever seen. The fact that he was still awake and ambulatory was enough to impress even him. Anyone pushing themselves that far past their limits should be passed out by now.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Waving off any more of Vickas’ yammering, he strode toward Lord Walker to find out for himself what had happened. While they needed to get moving, he’d been monitoring the battle line and knew that they could afford a few minutes.

  —--

  Nero’s head was pounding, and his thoughts felt like they were more than a little fuzzy. He recognized the symptoms, he’d stressed his center past its limits. The last time he’d done this to himself, he’d nearly died.

  Taking a moment to check his center levels in his identity, he could see that he was still at 100%. Most if not all of what he’d used to bring everyone back was filtered soul stuff from the ether, so he’d assumed that he would have no problems doing what he did. But, that didn’t seem to be the case. There was obviously a limit to how much center a person could channel regardless of where it came from. His body hadn’t been able to handle it, and now he was paying for it.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I did it. They’re alive. I didn’t end up getting anyone killed. Nobody can give me shit for leading them to their deaths… because I didn’t,’ he consoled himself.

  Sighing heavily, he took another deep drink from his canteen while ignoring everyone around him who was trying to have a word with him. His brain felt like it had gone through a mulcher, and he refused to spend the effort to listen to what they were saying. Most of what he picked up were variations of thank you’s and vows of their eternal gratitude. There were even a few healers demanding how he’d done it.

  He honestly didn’t have the attention span to deal with any of them at the moment. He could still hear the fighting going on at the entrance to the tunnel, and he needed to get his shit together before good ‘ole Knight Angleton ordered them to move out. So, he just nodded absently at what they were saying while focusing on his recovery.

  “If you’re capable of bothering Lord Walker, you’re capable of fighting. Get your gear back in order and cycle out with the rear line. If you need time to recover your center, then focus on that. We don’t have time for this right now,” Knight Angleton’s voice cut through the chatter like a knife.

  Immediately, the group currently harassing Nero broke up. Surprised at the man’s arrival, Nero silently thanked him before returning his attention to the cool water in the canteen he was gripping like a lifeline. Still seated on his stump, he felt his essence field release some of the tension it had been under by so many people focusing on him. He hadn’t realized it, but there was something ‘real’ about the weight of people’s attention that he’d never noticed before.

  ‘I always knew there had to be a reason public speaking sucked, and now I bet I could find some asshole who wrote a paper proving it,’ he remarked to himself sarcastically.

  “Are you injured, my lord?” Knight Angleton asked calmly while looming over Nero like a giant.

  Leaning back on his stump so he could look up at the man, Nero replied, “Oh, Harry. I didn’t see you there. You know for a giant armored nightmare, you’re surprisingly easy to miss. It must be because your presence is so comforting… not intimidating or emasculating in the least.”

  Nero couldn’t stop himself from giving the man some shit. The guy was just too heroic. Even now, his very presence was enough to have Nero hating himself for how weak he was feeling. The man had been fighting and leading the charge since they’d begun this insanity, and he still looked like he was ready to go another ten rounds with a dragon. He had the ‘badass warrior covered in blood’ look down pat.

  Knight Angleton didn’t bother to engage with Nero’s banter, only reiterating his question calmly. “Are you in need of healing? I don’t believe we have anyone with us who is capable of helping you recover your center, but we can at least have someone attempt to treat some of your symptoms.”

  Nero frowned up at the man, confused at what he was getting at. “No, I’m not injured. I didn’t even get to do any fighting. I was in the middle of the formation with the mages the entire time. I’m just a little wiped out from the healing. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m ready to go when you are. I know we’re on the clock, and I won’t be the one slowing us down.”

  Nodding in understanding, Knight Angleton replied, “We can wait a few minutes for you to recover. The kobalds are happy to keep us here in the tunnel. But, I’m sure they’re already sending word up the tunnels letting them know that we’d gotten past them. The faster we move, the less resistance we’ll have to face going forward.” Gesturing over at the healers who were meditating along the wall, he added, “If you don’t need healing, then you should take a moment to condense your gains yourself. It will help you recover your center and heal your body’s condition.”

  Nero glanced over at the numerous healers who were lined up along the wall sitting in the lotus position like monks.

  “Yeah, probably. Just give me a sec. Bringing that many people back took a lot out of me. Who knew bringing that many people back from the dead would be that much of a pain in the ass?” he asked sarcastically.

  “Once again, you’ve done something most people would consider impossible,” Knight Angleton noted, his tone not expressing anything other than some slight amusement.

  After taking another heavy drink from his canteen, Nero grinned up at him and replied, “Yeah, I’m awesome like that. Nobody dies today. We’re gonna go for a perfect run.”

  Nero knew he’d cut the last few resuscitations close, as there had barely been any tether left to connect their souls to their bodies. If he hadn’t been able to so clearly abuse his ability to interact with souls, he’d likely not have been able to accomplish what he had. The spell he’d been using clearly hadn’t accounted for someone being able to manually aim it like he could. But he’d had plenty of practice at this point, and aside from the spell form remaining the same, he’d figured out how to alter it to his will… more or less.

  Glancing up at Harry’s face, Nero noticed the man’s uncomfortable expression. Harry normally looked stoic to the point of resembling a statue, and the slight grimace on his face stood out sharply indicating something was wrong.

  “What?” he asked wondering what the man was thinking.

  After seeming to take a second to gather his thoughts, Knight Angleton replied, “You mentioned ‘a perfect run’. While I don’t recognize the phrase, I believe I understand what you meant. You believe that your success here brought our losses to zero, correct?”

  Nero nodded while replying slowly, “Yeah… I brought everyone who died back. Everyone’s still here. And I plan to make sure it stays that way. We’re all gonna head back to Dorchester as heroes after saving the city from interdimensional land bandits. For Dorchester! And all that.”

  “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this. But thirteen soldiers didn’t make it. Their bodies weren’t able to be recovered,” Knight Angleton reported woodenly, his tone sounding absolutely professional.

  Nero, stunned, forced himself to stand. Still looking up at Knight Angleton, he replied, “What do you mean? I brought everyone back. We didn’t lose anybody!”

  “I’m sorry, my lord. But, not everyone who fell was able to be recovered during the run through the encampment. Some of their bodies had to be left behind,” he replied quietly.

  Not knowing what to say, Nero stood there in silence. His brain was still feeling muddled, and he was having trouble accepting what Harry was telling him. Thirteen people died? He hadn’t saved everyone? But, he’d tried so hard. He’d saved everyone he could. He’d done the noble thing and stayed away from the fighting and played healer for the greater good.

  Seeing as Harry was staring at him, just waiting for him to break was enough for Nero to get a handle on himself. While he was still struggling to accept it, he was nothing if not adept at ignoring things he didn’t want to think about.

  “I understand. I’m sure everyone did everything that they could. We’ll just have to push on without them. Put the mission first and all that, right? That’s what soldiers do,” he said as calmly as he could.

  Nodding in a silent understanding of what Nero was going through, Knight Angleton replied, “Yes, my lord. That’s what soldiers do.”

  With a flicker of his attention, Nero returned his stump to his personal space along with his canteen.

  “I think I’ll take a few minutes to meditate and deal with my body’s status. I’ll be ready to go with everyone else. I’m sure you have more important things to be doing, so I won’t take up any more of your time,” he said before turning away from the man.

  Nero could feel Knight Angleton watching him leave. Harry’s presence stood out like a beacon in the ether even when Nero’s perception field wasn’t focusing on him.

  Finding a seat along the wall, Nero dropped down and leaned his head against the stone while awkwardly attempting to cross his legs. It was a sitting position he wasn’t used to and therefore more than a little uncomfortable. Which, at the moment, suited himself just fine. He didn’t feel like seeking comfort at the moment.

  He felt like he’d been cheated.

  Obviously, he knew that there was a danger of people dying, he wasn’t delusional. But, before now, that concept had been almost theoretical. Most of the battles he’d been in up until now had been resounding victories where he hadn’t lost anyone. Or at least not anyone who’d been under his banner. Not anyone he’d felt responsible for.

  He shouldn’t be surprised. There was no reason to. He’d known what he was getting into. He’d known that not everyone would make it. So why was he feeling like this? Why was it hitting him so hard?

  Shaking his head at the conflicting emotions bouncing around in his head, Nero tried to be honest with himself. Whenever he felt this confused, he knew he needed to take a step back and think about things objectively.

  Feeling the essence fields of the healers and mages to his left and right radiating calm and self-control, Nero reminded himself that the world he was currently living in had real-world tools for this type of self-reflection. There was no need for any emotional struggle, he could just turn his attention inward and take a look at how he was feeling.

  Closing his eyes and sinking into his soul space, He was bombarded by the physical representation of the emotional storm he was currently suffering under. The normally idyllic forest and blue skies were nowhere to be seen. The sky overhead was instead filled with storm clouds and lightning, with rain coming down in sheets while brutal winds stripped the trees of their branches. Even the path under his feet was hidden under rivers of mud which were being carried by a flash flood.

  “Well, this all looks awful,” he muttered to himself while noting the angry and distorted memories floating all around him. Each one daring him to take a closer look at them.