I would like to begin by clarifying that inscription tends to be an exhausting process. You have to understand that I have never attempted to rush my work like this. I have never inscribed in so many spells at the same time.
That too, when all of them are conjuration spells. (It is embarassing but I have never been particularly good at conjuration spells.) Until the moment that it happened, even I had not realized just how deep my sleep had been. This I tell to explain the monumental loss in awareness that I had to allow something like this to happen in the first place.
Now, to begin my log. What I am presenting here is the reconstruction of a log that I had somehow recorded in a state of half-sleep. I am curious what the fuck happened here. How in the hells did I even manage it? For most logs, I fail to start the logger even at my full focus. All I know is that I have done something very curious here.
This log of mine begins in a dream, which I barely remember. I can't even be sure that I have not imagined it into existence now. Anyway, here it goes.
Subconscious- wake up, Antonio, something is wrong.
Me- well, can we do it later, look at the pretty sheep.
Subconscious- something is wrong, get up. It is important.
Me- the pretty sheep are important too, you know. Look, they are flying into that horrible creature's mouth. What is that?
Subconscious- you are being attacked, you idiot. Move, you fucker.
It was sheer luck and a lot of daring that I managed to deal with the biting enemy. I took the sword under my pillow (every sane soldier must have one under his pillow.) and stuck it into the mouth of the opposing creature. Don't ask me how. All I can say is that it was purely instinct. (If I had to think of a plan here, I am sure that I would have been bitten in my throat.)
As I was doing this, I had already taken note of the three beings that were in the room with me. The one that had taken my sword was already injured, and my sword had struck a major vessel. I could tell this due to the almost ginger way in which it was moving. It moves with the sensitivity of a man trying to keep his guts in place after his stomach has been opened.
It was almost on the verge of death and would not be a threat. It was the other two that were the problem. I don't know how they managed to sneak into this place. I could tell that they were troop leaders, but that should not be possible. (I would have been able to track these beasts even in my sleep.)
That was not the moment for such questions. If I were fully awake, I would have frozen in place thinking these exact thoughts. I could already feel the two creatures beginning to charge up their ice mana, preparing to attack even as I took a momentary pause to see what was going on.
That much ice mana should be enough to bring Shamon and the patrolling troop down here. (They might not have a mana sense like me, but they can still feel mana to a certain degree.) Even a group of five soldiers, along with me, is enough to take care of these creatures. These two creatures have signed their death warrant by coming here.
While these thoughts were going on in my head, I could feel the two creatures tense up. I use this moment to extract my sword from the corpse of the creature. (It had stopped moving about a few moments ago.) Getting into a defensive stance, I charge at the two creatures.
They were not expecting such a fierce retaliation. (Nobody ever seems to think that a formation mage would be this good with a sword.) One of the creatures had begun to charge at me, while the other jumps back in panic. Using my sword, I blocked the attacking wolf, kicking the creature right in its chest. I don't know how much force I put in it (what can I say, my leg is still hurting, so it must have been quite a bit.), but it was enough to push the creature across the room.
I don't stop as I charge towards the retreating Ice Beast. I had an advantage here that I could lose. If the two creature regained their coordination, I would be dead. The sword pierces into the head of one of the creature as I think these thoughts.
It is at this moment that I did something stupid, that I would never have done if I were fully awake. I let go of my sword as the last ice beast's claws cut through the fabric of my shirt. I think I can still feel the sting of that strike all over my back. (It is faint enough it could all be in my head, though.) An inch here and an inch there, and I would have a majority of my insides on the outside.
After this, what happened, I needed to learn from Shamon. The man claims that it was quite terrifying. He burst into the scene after about ten seconds of my record ending. The creature was trying to claw me, but did not seem to reach me. Its mouth was inches from my face, but. I seemed to be like jelly, disappearing wherever it was trying to strike me.
At this moment, I want to be clear that wrestling is something that I barely know. I have only ever done it against humans, and I have never been particularly stellar with it. In fact, I was so bad at it that I was the first person in my group to be given a sword. (The sword is the last thing that any person is taught in the Legion.) The only thing that I am worse at can be considered to be mental magic.
Regardless, the moment that Shamon felt the presence of ice mana in the fort, he led a troop of twenty soldiers down here. Shamon had the brilliant idea of dousing me with a bucket of water to wake me up from my sleepy state. It seems to be a precaution these bunch have for when their enemies tend to try to use mental magic to make us sleep.
It was pretty effective, too, if one can ignore being soaked in such a fucking cold place. You want me to be honest, I am missing the chill. At the very least, the chill did not seem to enter places where no one would like to feel cold.
Regardless, now I am capable enough to talk again. I will have to talk to Shamon, who is very confused about what is happening here. (I am in a similar state here, too, you know. I just wish I had a moment to gather my thoughts and figure out what the fuck is going on.)
(About five minutes later.)
"Captain, are you fine?" Shamon begins with an expression I can't place.
I think the man has taken my injury quite personally with the vigor with which he is acting. He has been setting up our defenses to ensure that nobody will be sneaking into the place again. (Which mainly means he has been boarding up the southern gate.) I wonder if it will be enough, though.
"I am in a tiptop condition, Shamon. It's your luck that I tend to be prepared for such events and my luck that my plans worked," I say, fibbing a bit. As my father says, the best time to project confidence is when you least feel like it. Let's hope the other side can't hear the crack in my voice. "Why wasn't I informed that the Ice Beasts can sneak into our bases?"
"I had assumed that they wouldn't be doing it after the weeks they wasted already. It is a more extreme version of what they did to spy on you. The only thing they have after doing it is the element of surprise. They cannot use any of their magic in that state. That means that they can only really assassinate one person or a small group of people. Not one such attack has resulted in any real loss on our side, even during the establishment of the Frozen Peak." Shamon begins.
"How do they do it? I assume it is not any kind of cloaking magic since they seem to become seriously weak while doing it. My sword was not powered with mana when I killed that one. No matter how injured it is, it should have been able to shatter my sword with a bite," I ask, wondering about the mechanics of such a thing. (Don't blame me, you can never really sate a formation mage's hunger for new spells.)
"The present theory is that they somehow crack their mana cores, leaking out all their mana. Their mana then is equivalent to the ambient mana of this place," Shamon replies simply. "We can't verify it, though. We don't dare to leave a fully powered troop leader to experiment on. Anyways, the creatures have failed. You are fine, and I assume that the formation core is safe. I at least did not see any damage on it."
"The formation core is fine. I wouldn't be so sure about our safety, though, Shamon," I reply, feeling the cold penetrate my heart as the thought forms in my head. "How likely do you think that the Snowlords were looking through the eyes of their creatures?"
"I would say that there is a very strong likelihood of that, Captain. This attempt on your life was more than likely end in the death of the creatures. No creature would willingly walk to their death. They would only do this if their masters were actively commanding them to do so," he replies. "how does it matter? I am sure that the creatures have seen nothing of importance. It is not like the Snowlords know anything about formations."
"The Snowlords are going to be hitting us with their full power then," I tell the man. "Be ready for them to throw everything at you. I won't be surprised if they personally attack you."
"Why is that, Captain?" He asks as he begins to realize the scope of my fuck up.
"The battle arts that I have used here belong to a group that is known as the Legion, Shamon," I reply. "The tribes have sworn to destroy the Legion from the memories of every man. That also includes every single practitioner of the Legion's arts, sadly."
"Just how much of a threat can they be?" the man replies. Thankfully, his expression is getting more and more serious. The man can tell something is wrong. "They already attack us with their full force every winter, Captain."
"I am a child of the Legion, that is capable of making formations. That is a very small list for them to go through to figure out who I am. They will know who I am soon enough," I reply, feeling my voice crack even as I do so. "When they do, I am sure that the Snowlords will appear personally appear to murder me, regardless of the risk they face. Shore up all our defenses and be ready for any trick they can play."
"Captain, it would do you good to calm down. Panicking will do you no good," he replies.
"You don't understand what this revelation will mean for us. Do you want to know what the last documented case of an interaction between the snow tribe and legion was?" I reply, as my voice begins to crack. No use hiding it anymore, it looks like. "There was a soldier of the Legion hiding in a quaint little village near the Hexmountain. Seven hundred and thirty-two people were living in that village. We do not know how or why the Snow Tribe was there, just that they came looking for this soldier."
"Did they kill him?" Shamon asks.
"No, we at the Legion are trained to hide from our enemies. We are not so easy to catch in hiding," I reply. "Since they couldn't find the man, they began to freeze every person they could find. First their bone froze, then their flesh and finally their skin. They froze into statues of ice. The soldiers did it in such a way that the villagers could feel their bodies freeze as they died. The soldier stationed there could not bear to hide himself after this. He gave himself up at the thirteenth person, if my memory serves me."
"Did they kill him?" Shamon asks.
"No, they were under the belief that there were more Legioners in the place," I reply, feeling the chill crawl up my spine even as I continue. "So they kept freezing the villagers, all seven hundred and thirty-two of them. Finally, they killed the soldier too when he didn't open up. If they guess who I am, then they will make this look downright cute."
I can't help but remember the horror of looking at the place. (I was part of the crew cleaning up that place.) The look of horror on each frozen face of that village. Yet it is the face of the Legioner that I remember the most. Unlike the other people in the town, he had a look of relief. As if death were better than what he had gone through.
"I will quickly go and set up a patrol then," Shamon replies, an appropriate expression of panic finally appearing on his face.