Elliott soared above the city, mana pouring into him – the pleasure of holding so much was on the verge of being painful. It was more than he had drawn earlier. It was needed. Both for what he would do here.

  And to announce himself to this world.

  He glanced around the city, surveying the five portions of the Bizaynian army. The ones to north and south were pushing harder than the other three on the western side – those three were just there to pull defenders away from where they were needed most. The bulk of the fighting to north and south was taking place at the walls, with only a nominal amount of soldiers staying back near the siege engines.

  Water from the river sprayed upwards from explosions as fireballs slammed into the paved streets. The Aldren defenders were doing their best to hold back Bizaynian troops along the wall, trying to open the gates as others tried to enter from the river. It looked similar to the south. With his [Magnify Vision], he was able to make out the podgy form of Cedric, broadsword in hand fighting among his men.

  He turned his attention to Isabel and the sixteen newcomers that she faced. Probably Starforged Wardens that thought they had a chance. He flew towards them, sonic booms shattering the air, before he smashed down in the turf beside Isabel in a cloud of dust.

  “I don’t need your help,” Isabel said, a look of annoyance on her face.

  “I’m not here to help,” he replied. “I’m giving them a chance to live. I need them to send a message.”

  He glanced at Aldric, gave him a nod. There was a woman in a red jacket and red skirt standing on Isabel’s left. “A recruit?”

  “A friend of Lyla’s apparently. Wants to join us.”

  “What is going on here?” a big, muscular man carrying a large warhammer asked.

  Elliott raised an eyebrow at Isabel.

  “Their leader.”

  The man raised the warhammer above his head, bringing it down towards Elliott. Elliott let it hit him. The hammer stopped against his head, vibrations shuddering along the haft and making the other man shake. His eyes widened.

  It was then that he knew he fucked up.

  Elliott shot across the ground, grabbed the man by the underside of his chin and ripped his head off.

  He threw it in front of the others. It was enough to make them hesitate. But he needed to drive it home.

  He focused on the army beyond them.

  [Celestial Prism of Thaumaturgical Containment]

  [Supernal Barricade]

  The first to trap their magic.

  The second to trap them physically.

  Both barriers dug deep into the ground as he channelled mana into sigils, carving out a perfect square and lifting the entire army – siege machines included – and the ground they stood. He brought them closer. The fifteen Wardens didn’t know where to look. At him or the city-sized plot of land he had carried to them.

  “Watch,” Elliott said.

  Inside the barricade, the soldiers had a range of expressions from panicked to fearful to confused. Some had dropped their weapons, hands pressing against the invisible barrier. Others looked in their direction, eyes wide and questioning. Yet others seemed to be kneeling, praying to gods their empire had outlawed.

  Elliott almost felt sorry for them.

  Almost.

  He channelled more mana, sigils wrapping themselves around the soldiers’ heads and the wooden frames of the trebuchets and ballistae. Then the sigils contracted, tightening, collapsing on themselves. The wooden frames of the siege machines compressed together, pressing the flattened wood smaller and smaller, condensing it into a fraction of its size.

  The soldiers’ heads burst in unison like a synchronised popping of balloons filled with blood, the liquid spraying across the invisible barrier in a ghastly work of art.

  Several of the Wardens collapsed to their knees, retching on the floor, the contents of their lunch spewing forth across the grass and dirt.

  “I’m not done yet,” Elliott announced.

  He reached out with more mana flows, guiding them towards the other four armies. The attackers already at the walls to the north and south would need to be dealt with differently. Personally.

  He barricaded them in. Carved the ground around them. Lifted all four sections of earth into the air and brought them over the mile of ground towards him. The Wardens ahead looked like they would be sick again. Their eyes were opened so wide, it was as if they would erupt from their sockets. It was dawning on them just how outmatched they were.

  As the four armies converged towards him, he could feel the strain of his mana channels. He wasn’t at his limits but he would still need some time to recover from the exertion.

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  But there was still work to do.

  He brought the four pieces of earth closer to the ground, each several hundred metres wide and deep, containing thousands of soldiers each.

  The Wardens ahead glanced between him and each of the armies.

  “You’ve made your point,” one of them called out. A female, tall, wearing black form-hugging leather and knives hanging at her belt. “They’re just soldiers. Taking orders. You don’t need to do this. They have families.”

  Elliott narrowed his eyes at her. “So did Aldric. So did Lyla. So do all the people in that city behind me and all the others your empire has killed. I might not have cared but you made the gravest mistake of all.

  “You attacked my family.”

  They all went quiet then, almost as if they began to realise that they were all a side of the same coin.

  Life or death.

  In one of the sections of earth, fire burst forth across the wooden siege machines, flames licking at the wood and anyone nearby. The soldiers tried to run, crushing those further out against the invisible wall as black smoke filled the air. In another section, water appeared slowly rising from the ground to fill the cube. Some of the soldiers started removing their plate armour, trying to tread water as they floated to the closed ceiling above. In the third section, Elliott created an explosion that tore through flesh and plate and wood alike.

  Isabel touched his arm. He glanced towards her.

  His trusted friend had stood by. No questions. No discouragement. No attempt to change his mind. She’d lived in the same world he had. Came from the same background.

  The strong abuse the weak.

  Until the weak become strong.

  But he could see it in her eyes and the quiet smile on her face.

  He had made his point.

  He turned to the Wardens as he put the fourth section down and removed the barriers.

  “Is there a mage among you who can portal to your Empire?”

  Four of the Wardens put their hands up. He picked out one of them – a young man with short cropped hair, wearing a dark green tunic over linen pants.

  “Show me the sigils,” Elliott said when the man joined him. Usually, sigils would be invisible unless the mage made them visible for teaching purposes. Even on earth. The system gave the knowledge of the sigils, imprinted them in his mind but they were just spells. Spells that could be passed on. Advanced. Changed.

  He noted the sigils for the [Portal Node], then created it himself off to the side, widening the gateway so it could accept hundreds of these soldiers at a time. He made them wait as he channelled more sigils towards the thousands of dead bodies that littered the field. He grabbed them in the thousands and swept them through the gateway, dumping them to the side. Once he was done, he ordered the other soldiers to go.

  The fifteen Wardens looked at him, waiting.

  “I want you to go. Find your Emperor. Show him this.

  “And tell him I’m coming.” Elliott turned to the red-skirted lady standing at Isabel’s side.

  “What if we want to join you?” one of the Wardens behind him asked.

  Elliott didn’t turn around. “I don’t trust you. If you want to live, then after you’ve sent the message, I suggest you find a way to leave before I get there.”

  There was no response. Just the muffled footsteps of them leaving.

  “What’s your name?” he asked the red-skirted woman.

  “Marene.”

  “You’ve seen who I am now. What I do. Do you still want to join us?”

  “Will you put an end to the Empire?” she asked.

  “It might not stop there,” Elliott replied. It was one of his objectives, but he didn’t know where this would end.

  “It’s good enough for me. I will join you, if you will have me.”

  “I have one rule. Don’t betray me.” He turned to Isabel. “Take her to the north with you. There’s fighting at the walls. Kill them all.”

  Isabel nodded and spoke to Marene. “Ready?”

  Marene nodded and both sped off towards the north, small pockets of dust kicking up as they ran.

  “You alright?” Elliott smiled at Aldric.

  “Did you really have to kill all of them?” the young king asked. “I understand you prefer to make a statement. Maybe to avoid further bloodshed. But was all that necessary?”

  “You never really know what’s necessary until after,” Elliott replied. “Thirty thousand soldiers is not an insignificant amount. It will have an effect on their army. Especially their morale. Regardless, it will make them hesitant to try something like this again.”

  Aldric made several small nods. “We were betrayed. Someone told them our movements. Told them you were away. That’s when the attack happened. They might have succeeded if you didn’t get back.”

  “They would have if they didn’t make the mistake of destroying Elsie.” A vision of his sister’s battered body flashed through his mind. Elliott glanced beyond Aldric to the city walls. “Was it one of your people? Or one of Cedric’s?”

  “I think it might have been Ibonek,” Aldric replied.

  “Gather your generals and your closest men. I need to go help Cedric to the south. We’ll meet back at the palace and find out the truth of it.”

  “Don’t suppose you can give me a lift back on your way?”

  “It’s a hundred metres. I’m sure you’ll manage.” Elliott winked at him, then shot into the air.

  A short hop later, he landed behind the attacking army at the southern part of the city. Metal clanged around him as swords clashed, soldiers moving in mail armour, back and forth between defender and attacker. Holes peppered the walls where boulders had struck. Mana crackled in the air around him, earth erupting from the ground, lightning striking from the skies.

  He removed two blades from his back – a short sword and a katana. He sped towards the attackers, ghosting between them, slicing through their necks with the katana or stabbing their hearts with the short sword. They were dead before they even felt the blades, as he moved at a speed faster than the eye could see. These were regular soldiers and some ranked – orichalcum and adamantite. Even Starforged weren’t a problem for him. He would need to be far more exhausted for them to even be a minor threat.

  He almost laughed to himself as he carved his way through attacker after attacker. He had spent a century and a half becoming so strong that he was untouchable. All to find those responsible for killing him. And yet he was no closer to finding them. And what if he never did? Would that mean his life had been for nothing?

  Would it have been better if he had remained dead?

  He channelled some mana into a final blow, carving through an attacker’s neck. A curved flash of light emitted from the end of his blade, slicing through the remainder of the soldiers. He glanced around. There were still pockets of attackers here and there but he had reduced their numbers to less than a hundred. There were thousands of defenders. He wiped his blades on a cloak nearby and scanned for Cedric.

  He found him, standing further back now that the bulk of the fighting was over. The man was looking at him, and tilted his head slightly. Elliott walked over.

  “Thank you for saving my country,” King Cedric said, taking a napkin offered by another soldier and using it to wipe his brow.

  “I doubt they’ll be trying that again,” Elliott replied. “Not for a while anyway.”

  “I doubt so, too.” There was a look in Cedric’s eyes. Some wariness. Some fear. Anyone in the city couldn’t have failed to see the floating armies, though they would have needed to be on the western walls to see what had happened. No doubt the stories would spread.

  Now this world would know the name: Murderhobo.

  “I need you to gather your nobles. We need to have a meeting.”

  Time to find out who the traitor was.