Bog Standard Isekai

Maggart led his thirty [Dread Knights] with efficient professionalism. He gave their orders in the form of a few hand signs, and they sprung into action in a well rehearsed formation. Ten stayed near the giant, while the rest spread out and moved to surround Brin and Lothar. It was unfair, wasn’t it? The giant monster was supposed to be stupid. He was supposed to roar and then charge straight in, but Maggart was smart enough to know how dangerous Lothar was and he acted accordingly.

Brin put up a halting hand to the soldiers behind him, but they were already staying quite a way back. There were more of them now, he noticed. The five thousand were all in the city, and another ten thousand were moving through the gate. He hadn’t been informed of that, but he supposed it didn’t matter. Even with a hundred thousand, he wouldn’t use them. For fights like this, they could only bear witness.

Was the same true for him? The first thing Brin needed to know was if he could even split his mind right now. His mind still felt beyond sore and the thought of splitting his mind was less pleasant than the thought of doing pushups with two broken arms, but if he couldn’t do it, then he could help. He was barely keeping up with the mental load of keeping the Great Conduit running while walking along behind Lothar. Fighting, much less casting a bunch more spells, was completely beyond him.

He could at least pad his stats. He wasn’t going to be one of those guys who left all his attributes unused going into the final battle. He’d been going back and forth between Mental Control and Magic, but right now what he needed was Mental Control so… he caved and spent them anyway, ten to Mental Control and seven to Magic. Now it was time. Enough stalling. Was he really going to do this?

“Nothing for it,” he said under his breath, and split his mind in half. The pain was as bad as expected, like an ax chopping right through his skull–nice to have that reference point courtesy of Aberthol. He hung onto the Conduit with all his might, and eventually, the pain started to settle.

By then, the fight had already begun. Maggart stomped, and the smooth interlocked stones of the street grew up in spikes, all of them pointing odd angles in different directions. Palisades, but an entire field of them instead of a barrier. Then, through the bushes of stone spikes, there were dark, slithering shapes. Long, thick vines crept towards Lothar, no doubt intent on catching him and holding him in place.

It made sense that a giant like Maggart would want Skills focused on interrupting the movement of smaller creatures and holding them still. The palisades were no barrier to him. Though waist-high for Brin, they barely went past Maggart’s ankles and he could walk across them with little difficulty.

They were equally no barrier for Lothar, who stepped on the earth only as a courtesy. The [Paladin] flew forwards. Vines swam in the air to grab him but burned away before they could touch him. They were unneeded; Lothar was giving Maggart exactly what he wanted, a clear target. The giant swung down with his glittering black sword, and Lothar swung to meet it. The clash sounded like a thunderstrike and sent Maggart reeling back. Lothar pressed, swinging again and again in a series of strikes that could turn mountains into hills, and the giant managed to block or parry each one, though he was stumbling back and frantic.

The [Dread Knights] struck, all of them together, in a coordinated formation. Lothar charged straight through, aiming to bowl over the [Knights] in his way and get back to Maggart, but the first [Knight] halted Lothar’s swing, though the effort blasted him across the field where he landed awkwardly and painfully in the stone spikes. Still, the brief interruption was enough for other [Knights] to crowd in and ring their weapons against Lothar’s golden armor.

It was much like watching his Lance against Zaff. The [Dread Knights] were going to lose. They weren’t strong enough to harm Lothar. At the same time, they fought together, each covering his fellow when Lothar tried to finish one of them, and it was slowing the [Paladin] down. Giving Maggart time to act.

Lothar’s giant golden sword appeared again, interrupting the spell Maggart was forming, but the giant managed to dodge with nimbleness that belied his gigantic size. The giant golden shield appeared again, guarding Lothar’s back so that he could focus on the [Knights] in front of him.

Lothar needed a hand.

Brin couldn’t split his mind again. He just couldn’t. That meant that anything he did here would need to be done with his Lightmind and directed threads. He yelled, “Go, Marksi!”

The dragonling by his side jumped down and began to transform, growing larger and fiercer. His claws grew into sharp sabers, his teeth into daggers. He showed himself a proper monster and roared, before launching himself into the fray.

The illusion covering the dragonling cost Brin one directed thread, and the spell to let Marksi control some of his glass cost another, which was a bargain. His Mana was full, and while Brin had given Marksi use of all the glass in his morphic shield, there was no need for him to summon more.

Arcaena was rich. This city was full of windows. With illusions, he lifted a few up into the air to where his Mana batteries were hanging. He’d just formed huge curved dishes in the air with no other purpose than to collect as much sunlight as possible, but also turning them invisible from below was making them so inefficient as to be useless. With the excuse of transforming glass windows into big lenses above the earth, he didn’t need to hide them anymore. He felt the Mana pumping into him, more than enough to cover what Marksi was using. He needed another outlet for his Mana, or he’d get overfull.

He reached out to the real glass from the windows nearby and pulled it all towards himself, gathering as much as he could for the fight so that he wouldn’t have to waste Mana summoning it. It was ordinary glass, mass produced and possibly made by someone without the Class for it, but it was good enough once he started pumping his Mana in to improve and strengthen it.

Marksi hit the first [Dread Knight] and the man was fast, evading or countering all of Marksi’s strikes and slashes. But Marksi was quick, too, and when three of his friends joined to try to pin him down, Marksi evaded everything like the slippery little snake he was.

Unfortunately for Brin, that meant that he was starting to be noticed as well. Maggart's black vines shot out at him, wrapping around his neck and arms. They were strong as steel bars. Brin barely managed to switch himself out with a Mirror Man in time, and the vines dashed it to pieces. Now he was invisible, and unless he wanted someone to throw down an Eveladis, he needed an excuse for where his real body was.

He created ten Mirror Men, giving each of them a directed thread to pilot them, and grew them out of the window glass he’d requisitioned.

Ten [Dread Knights] split off from Lothar to take care of it, and made short work of his Mirror Men. Maybe with split minds he could’ve done better, but there was no way to make directed threads any good at fighting. Still, it was enough. He’d bought the time he needed.

He flipped through his spell catalogue in the Lightmind and selected one he’d always wanted to try. Monstrous Transformation.

This spell had a couple of interesting options. You could make yourself appear like you were turning into a werewolf. There was an option labeled “Locus of disease”. Then there was Brin’s choice: “Shadow of the Void”.

He selected it and cast it over one of his last Mirror Men. As the spell was forming, he overwrote all colors and made the thing appear as if it were made of obsidian glass. It was pretty easy to make his own glass look like that. He activated it.

The Mirror Man groaned and clutched his head, bending over. The [Dread Knights] stepped back–a lot of their undead would explode after groaning and doubling over like that and they weren’t taking any chances.

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The copy’s shoulder bulged, then his leg. Different parts began increasing in size in a disgusting and ugly sort of way. His clothes shredded off his back as his new body couldn’t contain them any more. Knives of bone stabbed out, worms crawled around and through his flesh, and his legs separated into a hundred squirming tentacles. His chest separated, opened to reveal the heart, which in turn morphed into a perfect sphere, in a bit of geometric perfection surrounded by a grotesque meaty shell. The head itself split into two different buglike eyestalks. One arm turned into a club, the other a scythe like a preying mantis. And all the while as it transformed, it grew until it was half the size of Maggart.

Brin smiled, biting his lip against a laugh. It was perfect. The spell had a bit of randomness built in so that no one would be able to point out an [Illusionist] by recognizing the exact monster, so he hadn’t known how it would look. He could work with this.

He formed a club and a scythe of the strongest glass he could make, and then a floating piece of glass to emulate any other body parts they might come in contact with. Then he spared a thought for the Wyrd. He was scary; that was the main thing. He now had an Achievement and a Commendation to make him more intimidating and they were working together beautifully. The [Dread Knights] weren’t cowards. They wouldn’t flee, but they were scared and he could work with that.

Before the [Dread Knights] could react, Brin attacked. His giant club swung down, and the [Dread Knights] scattered. It crashed through the palisades, blasting the shrapnel into their armor with a force that made it clear what would’ve happened to them if they’d actually gotten hit by the club. In reality, probably any one of these guys could tank the club. The shrapnel was actually glass bullets that Brin fired with as much power as he could muster.

The void monster swung his scythe, and again the [Dread Knights] pulled back to avoid it. He turned his eyestalk and fired a laser. Brin didn’t have enough time to use as much Language as he would’ve liked for the laser, but by being wasteful with his Mana he still got a good result.

The beam struck one of the [Dread Knights] gauntlet and heated it enough that he dropped his sword in alarm. Brin kept up the pressure, swinging with both heavy limbs at a speed that a natural creature couldn’t manage. Every second that passed he was able to cram more Language through his awkward mouth, making the blows stronger and faster.

With his real body, he stayed nearby and waited for openings. A braver [Dread Knight] ran forward with a spear, intent on demonstrating that the void creature could still be hurt. A single tentacle from the void creature stabbed out and Brin matched it with his spear, thrusting hard.

He got the [Dread Knight] right in the shoulder joint, and while his spear didn’t quite penetrate whatever second layer they had under the plate, it spooked the [Dread Knight] enough that he backed up.

“Cover the [Paladin]! I’ll face the abomination!” Maggart shouted in Arcaenean. It shouldn't have surprised Brin, but he was completely fluent in the enemy’s language now.

The [Dread Knights] scattered and Maggart bore down on Brin. In the confusion, Marksi was distracted and a [Dread Knight] took advantage, shattering one of his glass claws. The directed thread was confused enough that the illusion fell apart, and Brin caught it just in time to make it look natural, like Marksi was shedding a glass shell. It wasn’t enough to save the dragonling. Another [Dread Knight] kicked him into the air where he couldn’t dodge, and a third [Knight] swung with an ax.

Lothar shook off his own harassers and appeared next to Marksi like a lightning bolt, shielding him. Marksi bounced off his back and then darted away in camouflage.

“Thank you,” Brin mouthed. Lothar looked directly to where Brin stood invisible, and nodded.

Maggart stomped over to Brin’s void creature and swung his gleaming sword. Brin dodged with a claw and the sword clove straight through the glass. Harder than stone, stronger than steel, and Maggart sliced through it like it was made of chalk, spraying obsidian everywhere.

Brin moved with, ducking the next blow and slicing Maggart with the scythe, but it didn’t cut his armor or make him flinch at all.

With a contemptuous snort, Maggart grabbed the void creature by the squirming eyestalks and lifted. Brin had no choice but to use precious Mana to pull down to simulate the creature's weight and let him lift it in the air. Once the void was at Maggart’s eye level, he pulled back his sword to stab it straight through the sphere at its core. Brin used his laser.

This time, he’d had all the time he’d needed to charge the laser with everything he had. “<Laser, glory of the sun, sword of the holy knight, strike with vengeance, purify evil. Charge! Grow power! Harness light! Fire!>”

The beam hit Maggart straight in the face and he dropped the void creature, while roaring in pain and shielding his eyes. He put an arm around his face to guard it, but Brin still kept the laser up as long as he could. There was a burst of mana drain right when he fired it, but then to keep the same energy up only took just over half the Mana to maintain it. [Amplified Casting] was a game changer.

Roaring, Maggart swung wildly and clipped Brin’s illusionary void monster. He gamely adjusted to let a portion of the obsidian mass get swiped away. Maggart’s next swing was lucky and sliced straight through his scythe and the main part of his body.

Brin had to play along. He tore the monster in half and then it melted, splashing into the ground. He rose from the filthy melted obsidian as himself. He’d burned away a good deal of mana there and didn’t have another disguise ready. He needed to fake his Class just a little bit longer.

He still had the collectors up in the air, already his Mana was starting to return. He’d still be able to empower his Bog Standard spear and make his armor move with him. He still had all his physical strength. In short, he was screwed.

Maggart was still blinded, but he was already recovering. He’d noticed that no more laser was burning at his armor and he’d stopped flailing around blindly.

Brin gripped his spear. He could get one good hit off. He started chanting the words of Language that he’d developed back when he’d first tried to find a way to break Hedrek’s armor all that time ago.

Before he could move, Lothar arrived. He stabbed his golden sword straight into the chest of the dazed and blinded giant.

Immediately, the giant burst into the shape of black and flapping wings. Lothar waved a hand, and all the wings were frozen in a giant cube of golden light, but still, they faded away and out of sight.

You have defeated: Maggart, the Fallen Keeper of the Garden

Experience reduced for forcing a retreat. Experience split among party members, based on contribution.

No level, but Brin bet he was well on his way to 47.

The [Dread Knights] scattered like cockroaches at the departure of their leader. There were entrances to tunnels scattered all across the town, and they split up to hide in at least seven different holes.

Lothar didn’t move to chase them. He turned, and casually resumed his walk toward Arcaena’s fortress, as if this entire legendary battle were hardly worth commenting on.

Brin found it much harder to calm down. His pulse was pounding, and he was waiting for the next monster to arrive, and when nothing did, he wanted to lash out and start breaking down the buildings. He had Invisible Eyes follow the departing [Dread Knights], of course, but they just ran down the tunnels, further and further as if they were being chased by an avenging angel.

They traveled on, towards the fortress, which hung above the rest of the city like a vengeful cloud. A dark obelisk, a monument of sheer power.

Marksi skittered back to him, and that released a bit of Brin’s nerves, but not enough. They weren’t safe yet. It would only take one person, one [Scout] or spy or [Witch] who knew enough of Brin to throw an Eveladis from hiding and it would all be over. They were so close but that just made him more certain that something was going to go wrong.

They reached the base of the fortress citadel and began to walk up the steps. Lothar could’ve flown straight here, but for temperance’s sake, he walked. There was no reason he couldn’t. In his mind, there was nothing that could stop him whether he got there sooner or later, so why rush? Brin wished he could sprint the rest of the way.

Now that he had some elevation, he could see the entire city from above, as well as the army entering it. More of the army had arrived. Now thirty thousand souls had crowded into the city, and more were on the way. The warcamps looked practically empty from here, and they were all getting along miraculously well for three armies that believed they’d soon be at war with each other. What were they thinking? That was way too many! There was nothing he could do about that now. He could only play his part the best he could. Despite the army’s size, the city was larger and the complete lack of citizenry still made the place seem hollow and empty.

They reached the top of the grand staircase and faced the giant doors. Aberthol had never arrived through these doors. Only Arcaena did. Everyone else used the entrances from underground. He didn’t actually know what it would take to open them.

Lothar drew his sword and took a step forward. Brin felt a shift in the Wyrd.

This is it. “Wait.”

Lothar turned to him. “What is it? Will you finally reveal what treachery you have planned for me?”

“Yes,” Brin admitted.

“I care not what foolish scheme you have devised. I will overcome it, and everything else. I will overcome this world, if need be.”

“Then look,” said Brin.

It began as a little swelling of the earth. They’d seen that before. Today, in fact. Then there was another, then another. Then there were thousands of them. The earth swelled up, as if diseased, pushing through the stone roads or through the houses and buildings. The men shouted in alarm, jumping away from the areas of ground around them that swelled up and came to a head. There were too many, and there was no stopping them now. The entire city was covered like it had a sick pox, though of course this was worse than any mere disease. Thousands of sick white pimples. Each of them was a bomb, primed and ready to burst with necromantic fire.