Captain Aremay spoke up then. “That is impressive. An entire family with magical abilities. That really says something about your family. Can any of the others fight like you can?”

  “My dad puts me to shame, and that was before he hit Tier 4. On our dungeon run, I saw him tanking a thirty-foot-long drake,” Jackson replied.

  Captain Aremay didn’t say anything in response but once again got that look on his face as though he were thinking about something and was far away from where he actually was. Master Meyer began to say something, but a messenger came running by, saying that they were almost to the rally point, and Sir Schinhofen wanted quiet.

  A few minutes later they were all at the rally point. From here they could see that the port town was burning in several spots. They were still two miles from the town, but the smoke was obvious in the sky. By now it was late afternoon, and with it still being winter, the second sun was already beginning to set. Sir Schinhofen got up to give a briefing to everyone and had them gather round him in a circle while a couple of scouts were left out to make sure the enemy didn’t sneak up on them.

  “I am going to share with you all what we have learned. Then we will be making individual parties and merging them into a war party. We will be attacking tonight, but mostly just to get a feel for what the enemy can do. So far all that we know is that three ships came into town two days ago. The ships were filled with pirates from the Spice Isles.”

  The knight didn’t specify, but Jackson knew that he would be able to identify them by their dark skin. So far all the humans that he had run into on Eloria ranged from fairly pale like the Albians to some from Miromar who had just a touch of brown. The Spice islanders were almost all dark skinned, which was part of why everyone thought that Max was from there.

  Sir Schinhofen continued, “The guards at the docks were quickly overwhelmed, and then the town was overrun. For various reasons, the king had recently increased the garrison here; otherwise it likely would have been over with without a fight. As it is, what the scouts have learned is that half the town was burnt to the ground, and the remaining villagers or guards are bound. So far the women are being made to cook and serve food to the surviving invaders, but it doesn’t look like they are being molested.”

  Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when they heard that. Jackson would never have worried about that before coming to Eloria, but now he knew how brutal the world could be. More than that, he would have had no idea about why the captives were being taken care of but for his political classes. That annoying Master Jurgen just might have taught him something, for he realized it meant they were probably being kept alive as hostages to deal with the king for money or concessions.

  “It seems that the town might have even held, or put up enough of a fight to drive the pirates off except that there was a strange caster with them. According to the reports, he looks like a frog but walks upon two legs and wears a heavy tunic covered in fungus. He has three apprentices who look just like him, and the reports are that he is very powerful, casting what has been estimated to be Tier 3 magic.”

  Jackson wanted to ask a question but managed to keep his mouth shut. He couldn’t help but wonder how a group of non-casters was going to have any way of knowing just what tier the magic was.

  The briefing continued, “We were able to rescue one of the women as she was cleaning some laundry. She reports that the frog is the leader, and the pirates obey him. They even seem fearful of him. From the conversations she overheard, he is not a wizard, but rather a warlock. He has made a pact with the spirits of an ancient race of lizardmen long since dead. Because of his class and nature, we are referring to him as the froglok.”

  After that it broke down into assignments and where each contingent would go. They were going to try to create a distraction while freeing as many of the guards and villagers as possible. Jackson was relegated along with Master Meyer and Malten to be part of the reserve. He supposed it made sense, but would have argued that he was likely better at sneaking than most of the adults. He just didn’t think it would do him any good to make a suggestion.

  Jackson didn’t have much to do but wait. The reserve unit moved forward till they were about a mile from town, but that was it. They were too far away to hear much of anything. The only good thing was that both captains were in his part, along with Malten, his father, and Master Meyer. He was sure that battle was engaged when he started to see the health totals of the three men drop.

  At one point when Sir Schinhofen’s health dropped by more than half in an instant, Jackson heard Malten suck in his breath. The kid might be a lying jerk, but Jackson knew how hard it was to see your father be seriously injured. Now they couldn’t even see what was happening to him. All they knew was that he was being injured.

  A few minutes later groups of battered villagers came running into town. Each group had a couple of soldiers with them. Within ten minutes all of their forces were back. A few archers were shooting at enemies who were pursuing them. Jackson heard the call for the reserve to engage.

  Then Jackson saw Captain Aremay with a spear shaped like a lightning bolt in his hand, thrusting at enemies even while he ran. Max was supporting Sir Schinhofen as they too tried to run with all the gracefulness of a three-legged race. They were the last three, and the archers were trying to cover them, but as of yet Jackson couldn’t see what was pursuing them.

  He knew he was probably supposed to wait for orders, but he had heard the call to engage, and his friend was there trying to escape. Jackson had to do something. An expression his father had said a couple of times came to mind, “Better to ask forgiveness than permission.”

  He burst off running towards them. Master Meyer called something, but it didn’t matter. Jackson was running so fast. Between his Watcher-boosted running skill, elven agility, Air Core, and Ring of Streamlined Movement, he was made to run. He streaked along well beyond 100 mph.

  At that speed he reached his teammates in under fifteen seconds, easily outdistancing the others in the reserve unit. Right before he reached them, he felt his speed double again as he got caught up in Max’s Forced March ability. As he crossed the distance, he made a startling observation. The arrows were barely moving faster than he was. It was surreal.

  As he got closer, he saw what was pursuing the team. There were three translucent ghosts, for lack of a better word. They were of no race that he had ever seen on Eloria, but gaming and movies on Earth would have told him to call them lizardmen. Or in this case ghosts of lizardmen. The voice in his head growled and said a name, but he couldn’t make it out. Jackson simply knew with an absolute assurance that the owner of the voice in his head recognized these ghosts and was not at all friendly to them.

  Just when Jackson was about to engage the closest of the ghosts, he heard Max call out, “They’re immaterial. Only magic can stop them.”

  Jackson’s punch slammed into the first of the ghosts. His fist went entirely through it. The ghost flinched and pulled back. The creature had clearly felt the blow, but then again so had Jackson. A surge of absolute cold rushed through his body as his fist passed through the creature. He got a notification about damage but couldn’t be bothered to look at it. The other two ghosts closed in on him, and he was trying to dance away from them.

  A taloned lizard hand lashed out at him. On instinct, Jackson raised his arm to block and was already following through with a kick before completing his block, which went off exactly as he had intended. Instead of being caught by the wicked-looking claws, his forearm shot up at an angle, contacting the descending limb at the wrist.

  Unfortunately, this creature didn’t get the memo because its arm kept going right through Jackson’s. He felt the sharp cold again in his arm and then an instant later in his chest. The claws didn’t cut him open. They only caused pain as though they had. That and the cold, which seemed to sap his strength.

  With all three of them on him, Jackson knew he wouldn’t last long, and panic started to rise in his throat. That voice spoke calmly. “Center yourself. These will require fighting differently from what you are used to, but you will be able to do this. Remember your class.”

  Partially reassured, Jackson went on fighting. He blocked and attacked just like he would any other fighters. They scored far more hits on him than he did on them, but he got his licks in too. While none of them crumpled from a well-placed kick or punch, and an elbow to the side of the head was depressing in terms of how little reaction it triggered, they still obviously took some damage, particularly from his fists covered in the magical gloves.

  Jackson felt weaker and weaker moment by moment. He knew he was a better fighter, but the damage was just adding up too quickly. He wouldn’t survive this much longer if something didn’t change. Finally he got a notification that wouldn’t be minimized.

  Accrued Damage has passed 75% of maximum health. Aura available to activate at maximum effect.

  He couldn’t believe how stupid he was, but then again he had never been in a life-and-death struggle since getting the aura ability. Without any further thought, he willed his aura of Minor Protection from Evil to activate. A pulse of white light shot out from him, and he practically glowed like an angel.

  The momentary distraction had been enough though. One of the lizardman ghosts had sprung into the air and was coming down on him with two extended clawed hands. Rather than step back futilely, Jackson stepped into it, hoping to lessen the impact and maybe knock the creature back to buy him some room to escape.

  Boy, did it work. It was almost laughable. The creature bounced off the glowing aura around Jackson and flew backwards. The other two creatures didn’t seem to know what to do but mindlessly attacked him, and they too were repulsed. Not only that, but Jackson didn’t feel a thing from any of their attacks.

  The voice demanded, “Press your advantage.”

  Jackson did a quick step forward and brought a powerful uppercut under the semitransparent jaw of the closest creature. The blow connected. Jackson felt it not against his fist but through the aura. And the monster clearly felt it, for it yowled in pain.

  Resisting the temptation to watch his handiwork and knowing just how dangerous these creatures were, Jackson went to work, hoping to finish them before his aura faded. Blow and blow he rained down on them, and each time they cried out in pain. It was entirely one-sided now as they quickly learned they couldn’t even get within one foot of him, yet each attack from him dealt critical damage.

  The first one fell, dissipating into motes of smokey-like material, and quickly faded. That must have been enough to scare even ghosts, for the other two attempted to flee. Jackson wasn’t having it though. He performed a sweeping kick that knocked the next closest one off its feet and then dropped down with a punch to its throat. He didn’t know if it mattered where he hit the creatures since it was likely his aura that was causing all the harm, but that was no reason not to fight with precision.

  Two more blows to this prone foe and it too dissipated. Jackson got up to go after the final fleeing ghost. It was a couple of hundred feet away and headed back into Rostock, but he knew he was fast enough to catch it.

  Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard Max’s voice. “That’s enough. You bought us time to get Schinhofen back to camp. The others have fled, but you don’t know what else you would be facing there. Stand down.”

  The past few months of military training that the academy had been drilling into his head combined with a lifetime of being taught to respect authority figures meant that Jackson relaxed immediately. He wanted to chase after the creature, but he trusted that Max knew better than he did. “Yes, sir.”

  Max sighed. “That was freaking amazing. Your father will be so proud. Now, though, we need to get back to camp.”

  A huge grin split Jackson’s face as he answered once again with more enthusiasm, “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “It is a fool’s dream to assume that the enemy is any less intelligent or careful than you. A good strategist assumes the enemy knows things they don’t know, and will have planned every bit as thoroughly has you have. Of course, sometimes you get a pleasant surprise and the enemy is just a bumbling idiot.”—Captain Naat’ha Aremay of Miromar’s Griffon Guard

  Rostock—Jackson Nelson

  The first raid had been successful in one regard. They had rescued some 30 captured guards and over 250 citizens. None of them were in very good shape, as they hadn’t been given food or even much water for the past two days. It was also successful in that almost half of the pirates that they encountered were killed.

  Where it wasn’t so successful was once they ran into the froglok and his minions. His apprentices alone were annoying casters, and the raid only managed to kill one of the three. The froglok, though, was a magical powerhouse. He hurled acid storms, sent waves of fear and confusion through their midst, slowed their motions, and reduced their elemental resistances.

  That was bad enough, but the losses didn’t really start to add up until his magical servants attacked. The three lizardmen ghosts were bad, as without magical weapons, they couldn’t even be harmed. Their attacks passed through armor and flesh with equal ease, and were it not for the knights and captains with their magical weapons, the casualties might have been much worse.

  Beyond that there were two large clay golems set up by the froglok. They were both over twelve feet tall with wide bodies and long arms. Their reach, prodigious strength, and seeming invulnerability to even magical weapons left six dead soldiers and a knight to litter the streets of Rostock.

  All in total, the raid had lost one knight and a dozen soldiers, but there were at least thirty more who were wounded. The priest of Shanelle was doing his best. Jackson volunteered, and he used his one healing spell until he ran out of mana and then would wait for it to refill and cast some more.

  As he worked, Jackson listened to a now healed Sir Schinhofen in a planning meeting with both captains and Master Meyer. “I hate to ask this since my liege has given me this as a solemn task, but can we retake the port?” the knight asked.

  “If it were up to me, I would say that we pull back and set a perimeter to ensure no monstrosities get through to the capital, at least until reinforcements can be sent. We need magic to deal with magic,” Master Meyer replied.

  “You both know that isn’t an option. The king has given us a mission, and we need to complete it or die trying. Rostock is too vital to Konig and Albia as a whole. I know you probably realize an attack from Faelora in the south is both likely and imminent. It is bad timing, and I at first assumed that they had hired the Spice Islands pirates as mercenaries to take the port. Faelora doesn’t have much of a navy, but if the port was taken, they could use it to land soldiers and pincer Konig on two sides,” Max said.

  Sir Schinhofen nodded. “That had been my initial suspicion as well, but I don’t believe that to be the case. It seems as though this is just another case of bad timing. Albia is being attacked by two different groups at the same time.”

  “I concur,” Max said.

  Captain Aremay, who had been silent up until then, said, “The pirates are nothing. Honestly, Max and I could wipe them up with a dozen soldiers to protect our flanks. That so-called froglok is something entirely different. The way the survivors speak of him, it sounds as though the pirates are as scared of him as the townsfolk were.”

  “For sure, but is there a way to use that to our advantage?” Master Meyer asked.

  Sir Schinhofen said, “I think there is. I believe the pirates are ready to break. They already took heavy casualties from the attack on the city, and then we killed at least thirty more of them. With a little more incentive, we might be able to push the rest of them onto a ship so that we wouldn’t even have to engage them.”

  “Good thinking,” Max said. “They would just need to be convinced that they could get away from the froglok. The trick is going to be keeping him busy while hitting the pirates at the same time.”

  “I don’t see that as very tricky. We simply need two parties to hit the froglok and his minions, and the rest of those who can still fight after the priest is done with them will split off from us to drive the pirates to their ship. Then we can retreat and regroup,” the knight said.

  “Do we even have enough with magical weapons to fight the froglok?” Meyer asked.

  “Myself and each of the knights as well as the captains, and presumably an instructor at the Royal Academy, have magic weapons. The problem is that I really need the other knights to keep the soldiers on track. So we would have four of us with magic weapons, and the rest would just be there to try to protect our flanks.”

  “You mean that they would be red-shirts, essentially,” Max said.

  Everyone else stared at him, not getting the reference, but Jackson snickered. Max turned and smiled at him. “Glad that still made sense to you, but also glad that you have been listening in.” Then he looked back at the other leaders. “I know it is harsh, but we are going to have to ask Jackson to help us. He is near peak Tier 2 with a rare class and some good gear. More than that, whatever he did to stop those ghosts may be our only option. Before he did that, I thought we were going to have to insist the priest come with us just to try to keep them back.”

  “They are a bit young, but I guess the king sent them on this mission. So, what was that glowing thing you did with the monsters?” Sir Schinhofen asked.

  Jackson stood from where he had been healing one of the townsfolk. He explained about his auras, rattled off his spells, and talked about his axe and hand-to-hand skills. He didn’t go into details about his gloves or the fact that he was beginning to suspect they were the source of the voice in his head. He wasn’t sure if even in a world full of magic that he might not have been deemed crazy if he described the voice.

  They discussed strategy, and while Jackson wasn’t exactly included in the conversation, he was asked a couple of times about the limitations of his abilities and what he was comfortable with. At one point, Captain Aremay, who still spent a fair amount of time staring at Jackson, asked him, “So what level are you?”