Nia swung '180 gold coins.' The long blade whipped around in a wide arc and cut three orcs through the waist in a single stroke. One of the halved orcs flailed both arms for a moment, then toppled where he stood.
Nisharin saw it and burst out laughing.
"Oho! That sword looked heavy, but you swing it like it's nothing!"
"Not heavy-dar."
Nia set the sword upright again and answered shortly.
"Wahahaha! Not heavy, you say! I've seen as much already! You cut three orcs apart with that thing in one stroke!"
"That's right."
Nisharin threw back his head and laughed.
Then the laughter stopped. His gaze swung toward the palisade on the left. The Minotaurs were walking straight at it.
"Looks like they'll need some help over there."
Nisharin hauled on Mooloomook's reins.
"The rest of you, follow me!"
A handful of Nishi riders wheeled their Mooloomooks around and fell in behind him.
"I'll leave this side to you!"
Nisharin's Mooloomook tore off toward the palisade. Nia watched his back for a moment, then turned away.
Inside the breach, a mass of orcs was bearing down on the stone wall. There were a lot of them.
Nia's feet started moving toward them.
Then Nia ran.
The pounding of Nia's footsteps quickened. The orcs closed the distance. Nia's grip tightened on '180 gold coins.'
Without slowing, Nia pushed off the ground and leapt. Landing on the back of a Nishi rider's Mooloomook as it passed, Nia planted one foot for the briefest instant before springing away again.
The rider atop the Mooloomook turned his head, startled. By then Nia was already high in the air.
A Minotaur had been just about to clamber up the tilted heap of stones. A Dawi soldier on top of the wall thrust his spear down with all his strength. The Minotaur glared at the spearpoint and roared. The instant the two cries collided, the Minotaur's voice cut off, its face stiffening.
Nia's sword came down on it from above.
'180 gold coins' cut deep, from the Minotaur's head to its shoulder.
The fingers clutching the wall lost their strength and let go, one by one. The Minotaur's body slid down the tilted rubble.
Nia landed with knees bent. Small shards of stone sprang up from the rubble under Nia's feet.
A few Dawi soldiers nearby saw it and let out short gasps of awe.
Nia climbed onto a pile of debris beside the wall, the tip of '180 gold coins' pointed at the ground. From up there, Nia could take in at a glance the Dawi soldiers fighting orcs all around.
The small slope on the breach side was packed with orcs. They shoved and knocked into one another coming down, but they never slowed. A loose stone rolled out from under one of them, and he pitched forward. He pushed himself up without letting go of his axe, hoisted it overhead again, and ran on, screaming. Behind him, orcs kept pouring down toward the open ground in an unbroken stream.
"Uuu... too many orcs."
Nia's voice slipped out, small.
Nia stepped down from the heap. Both feet planted firmly.
Then Nia let '180 gold coins' hang from one hand, closed both eyes, and took a deep breath.
"I'll use what Karka taught me!"
Nia murmured it in a low voice.
The spell sentences Nia had learned from Gravel were taking shape in Nia's mind.
What Gravel had taught Nia was not a finished spell. It was the groundwork for making magic: how to understand a spell sentence, how to link sentences together, how to turn them toward an intent, how each one functioned and what it did.
Building on that, Nia had developed a unique form of magic. For a long time, Nia had worked to understand what each sentence meant, rearranging them, cutting what was unnecessary, and piecing together countless sentences for the circle.
Nia had started with the framework Gravel provided, but the finished result was something Nia had crafted by hand. Not a copy of someone else's magic. A new magic, created by Nia. Nia's own magic, which Nia had named personally.
Katadar's Dragon Chalice.
A red glow began to spread across the ground beneath Nia's feet.
The lines of the magic circle met one another and closed the broken flow. Scattered lines joined and overlapped into a finished form, and above them rose the spell sentences Nia had refined, filling every gap. When the lines running between the sentences connected, the whole circle flared into a deeper crimson. What lay spread beneath Nia's feet was a single spell, with countless sentences and lines locked fully together.
Nia laid the blade of '180 gold coins' flat. With a twist and a pull of the hilt, Nia rested it across the shoulder. The blade stretched out long over Nia's shoulder, its tip angled up toward the sky.
The circle beneath Nia's feet slowly rose. The lines of light forming a ring peeled away from the ground, stirring up a haze of dust. The loosened bands of light wound around Nia's legs and torso, passed over the shoulders, and streamed toward the ends of the arms. The light gathering on Nia's left arm—the arm not gripping the sword—flowed past the wrist and reached the back of the hand.
Nia opened both eyes. Deep within the pupils, a crimson glow slowly spread, growing brighter.
The tip of Nia's tail swayed lightly. The bands of red light wrapped around Nia's arm quivered faintly against the scales.
"The chalice of fire that holds the breath of the great red dragon Katadar, to my sword!"
Nia's voice rang out, unwavering.
Light began to gather at the tips of Nia's left fingers. The red glow beading there drew together and formed a huge goblet with a long stem. A slender stem emerged at the bottom, followed by a broad saucer and then the bowl. A pattern of scales spread across the surface. The design winding up the side of the cup flowed into the shape of a dragon, its neck stretched long, its head resting on the rim, its mouth open.
Not far away, a Dawi soldier who'd been nocking an arrow saw Nia and froze. He had drawn the string and forgotten even to release it.
Red light welled up inside the goblet in Nia's hand. The surging liquid climbed and fell along the inner wall. Red and orange pushed against each other, trading places again and again across the surface. Heat rose above the rim in a shimmering haze.
Nia slowly lowered '180 gold coins' from one shoulder. Then Nia angled the broad blade and tipped the goblet in the left hand over it.
"Burn. Katadar's Breath!"
The light in the cup ran down in the direction it tilted. The moment it touched the blade, the fire pouring from Katadar's Dragon Chalice spread over the surface of '180 gold coins.'
Red energy crept from the tip toward the hilt. The flames wrapped around the blade kept an even thickness as they wavered, deepening in color along the grain of the edge.
The gray blade of '180 gold coins' was dyed crimson. The flames cast a red glow across Nia's face. The fire running along the steel wavered, breathing out a deep whoom of heat. In that instant, the fog that had blanketed the ground was shoved aside all at once and scattered, laying the earth bare.
Not far away, Bouma with his axe, Dallen beating his wings as he regripped his manifested spear, and Bazz with his harpoon all felt the heat and turned their heads at the same moment.
Nia raised the sword upright. The flames swayed along the blade and surged upward.
The corners of Nia's mouth slowly curled up.
"It worked!!"
Laughter crept into Nia's voice.
"It really worked-dar!! My arm didn't catch fire!!"
Nia laughed out loud, talking to no one. Nia had spent so long developing this magic. Whenever Nia tried to imitate the breath of Katadar, the great red dragon, and exhale red energy to coat '180 gold coins' with it, the flames refused to follow the blade and scattered instead. The wayward flames curled back toward Nia's face and scorched it. A magic circle Nia had hastily pieced together had also failed to contain the mana and burst with a bang, leaving Nia's fingertips numb.
Nia regripped the sword that now held Katadar's red breath.
The fire wrapped around the blade crackled and roared. The sword, sheathed in red light, cast a shadow at Nia's feet.
Nia's gaze turned to the front again. The orcs still filled Nia's view, pressing in.
Nia stepped forward.
"I'll show you great Katadar's fire!"
Nia's voice rang out. Then, with a faint smile, Nia stamped the ground and shot forward.
The foremost orc raised his axe. Nia's sword met it.
The axe handle burned straight through. The wood blackened and snapped in an instant. The orc's eyes went wide.
The edge of '180 gold coins' went on to cut across the orc's torso. Fire leapt along the wound. The orc fell, screaming. Even inside the gaping cut of the orc on the ground, the flames did not go out. They bored in, burning flesh and armor alike.
The orcs behind him faltered.
Fear flickered in their eyes as they stared at the burning sword. But the horde at their backs shoved them forward, and they had no choice but to advance again.
The moment Nia came to a stop, all the force coiled within burst free. Wound tight like a drawn bowstring, Nia spun, hurling '180 gold coins' from one shoulder at the charging orcs with a roar that tore through the air.
What remained in the wake of the blade was a red breath, swelling like a storm. As that great breath of flame swept over the foremost orcs, they went up in fire, weapons and all, and collapsed one after another before the blazing wind.
The burning blade of '180 gold coins' crushed through their torsos and swallowed them whole. Ribs shattered. Thick muscle split clean through, armor and all. Yet no blood sprayed from the wounds. The raging fire wrapped around the sword seared the severed flesh shut in an instant. Cuts blackened and hardened like charcoal before blood could even flow, and in place of the reek of blood came the acrid stench of burning flesh. Along the path of that single swing, the orcs cut down by the dragon's breath went tumbling across the ground, scattering flames.
The orcs charging up behind could not stop against the wave of heat that hit them, and they trampled straight over the bodies of their fallen kin. The fire climbed the corpses rolling on the ground and spread sideways, and the flames that licked at their ankles engulfed more orcs, who fell thrashing. For the first time, the endless flow of the orc horde was broken, right there.
"Uwoooh!!"
A Dawi soldier watching from close by let out a war cry.
"What is that! The sword's on fire!"
"The Droko used magic!"
A brief stir ran through the soldiers. But it was soon swallowed by the roar spreading across the whole battlefield. Their hands tightened on their spears again. Feet that had been slipping backward stopped.
Vargo's voice still rang out from behind the open ground.
"Finish the barrier!! Just three more sacks of earth!! Then this side is done!!"
In the gaps still unfinished between the stacked stone wall and the palisades, soldiers shoved in sacks of earth. The sound of hammering did not let up.
Nia advanced with the burning sword leading the way. The orcs pouring in through the breach showed no sign of thinning. But Nia did not stop. Nia went on toward them.
The fog was completely gone. The ground before the shattered breach was covered in the wreckage of the broken wall, mangled orc flesh, and dark red blood that had clotted like mud.
Over the mire of piled corpses, arrowheads kept whistling through the air and sinking in without pause. A chipped spearpoint struck an orc's bone with a dull thud, and the feather-blades of a Muwa in flight split the spattering drops of blood and bit into the thick nape of a Minotaur.
The sounds of weapons tearing flesh and bones breaking still filled the inside of the ruined wall.
*****
At the palisade, Nisharin stopped mid-swing and turned his head.
Red light was shooting up from the direction of the stone wall on the inner side of the open ground. The crimson streak ripping through the thinning fog seemed to carry its heat all the way to where he stood.
"What in the world is that now…"
Nisharin narrowed his eyes and muttered.
A Nishi rider who had come alongside on his Mooloomook wiped the blood spatter from his face.
"Is it that Droko from before, using magic?"
"Looks like it!"
The corners of Nisharin's mouth slowly rose.
"That's no ordinary fire. The orcs that Droko cuts down are turning to ash. I've never seen fire like that, Nisharin!"
"What an interesting little Droko! A Droko who wields fire like a dragon's!"
Nisharin pulled on Mooloomook's reins. The Mooloomook reared up, forelegs lifted high.
"Right, we can't be left behind over here either!"
His spearpoint swung back to the Minotaur in front of him. Mooloomook kicked off the rubble and bounded forward.