…one of the golems was swung around like a baseball bat.

If John’s mouth hadn’t already been hanging open from the invaders appearing, seeing one of the golems getting whirled around and slammed into the other one would have caused his jaw to drop so hard it would have threatened to unhinge.

The two golems were smashed against the border of the barrier. Cracks spread through the visible world in the shape of an oversized spiderweb, and moments later, the whole thing gave in, and the barrier collapsed into the one around it.

‘What kind of stupid strategy is this?’ John thought as a drop of cold sweat ran down the side of his face. The Grey Golems, one of them completely destroyed, the other slowly losing mass in the form of boulders falling out of its broken back, fell backwards and caused a giant dust cloud, robbing John’s view of that area for a moment.

He checked the other surrounding areas through Momo and Jack. His thoughts about how stupid that strategy was were now unimportant. Fact was that they were surrounded on all sides. The enemy had another 9 of these gargantuan constructs; like ants, several thousand people had ordered themselves in standing battalions between them, the green uniforms omnipresent and robbing them off all individuality. That must have been the main fighting force of the Blood. Why was it here? Last John knew, they were on the onslaught; their main force should have been somewhere in Germany right now.

The question was left unanswered; instead, John had to worry at the thing hovering above the heads of the Grey Golems.

Aside from sheer size, this thing looked impressive by design alone. It had a slick, aerodynamically curved shape made from bent pieces of metal. It was equipped with three ‘guns’, areas where the metal stuck out of the frame in spiked rods. Two small ones on its massive wings and a third below the middle segment. The last one was not only dangerously looking large but also rotated freely.

The three spikes that made up the big cannon started rotating so fast that it seemed there was one translucent barrel. Arcs of multi-coloured electricity danced around and focused in a ball of plasmatic lightning, shifting throughout all colours of the spectrum. It aimed at that dust cloud.

It flew at a speed that made the ball-shaped projectile look like a beam, burning itself into John’s retina, bright enough to actually deal twenty damage to his health pool. ‘Why would they shoot at their own…’ John began to wonder but instantly realized that they wouldn’t shoot at their own people. ‘We are saved.’

The cloud of dust was scattered in an instant, revealing a much smaller force in a triangular formation, 500 at most. At the back, there were people in all kinds of knightly plate, decorated with individual heraldry. They stood proud, sitting atop fantastical animals ranging from proud to almost comically looking.

Then there was a group of leather clad sword wielders. John imagined to see Mario in there, the swordmaster that had helped Maximillian in the tournament. To their side was an order brandishing robes and staffs. They were gathered around their individual banner, a golden eagle on red ground surrounded by the depiction of an olive branch crown. For the first group that eagle was sitting atop a sword, for the second on a staff.

And then at the head of it all stood two people. One was an old man in a brown robe, hunched over with the left half of his face replaced with crystalline structures out of which transparent tubes stuck and connected with a stone collar around his neck.

Then there was the one at the very helm. The emperor himself, Romulus. With Sol in her sword and Luna in her shield form, he was standing his ground against the energy ball that had been fired at them. It ground against the shield, vibrating in a way that John could only describe as glitchy, like a videogame asset that couldn’t find the path it was supposed to follow anymore and was lost in recalculation loops.

Romulus shouted, digging his heels into the dirt and finally deflecting the attack by moving his shield to the side. The energy ball flew parallel to their formation and was aimed perfectly to disintegrate the head of the second, barely alive golem that Romulus’ initial use of one of it as a bat hadn’t destroyed. The attack wasn’t stopped by the ground and flew even further, melting its way through the soil, leaving a glassed tunnel.

Pointing his blade at the Construct of Order, Romulus said two simple words that echoed over the silent battlefield, “To battle.” Following that simple announcement, he was the first who charged forwards, and everyone else followed in a desperate attempt to keep up with him, one that was doomed to fail.

That was the reason why the enemy main force was here, they had been forced back this far already. Romulus had healed and was now pushing them back with his own two hands. No amount of force they could muster would be able stand against the emperor, who was beaming with lights and crackling mana in his armour made from hundreds of powers.

On one hand, John was pretty relieved that their reinforcements were there, especially seeing who was leading them; on the other, a new problem presented itself to him. As the Blood had positioned themselves in a siege ring around the old barrier, they were encircled on 3 sides by them; only the western side had been broken by the imperial force. To put it easily, the ruins of Warsaw where about to become a historical battleground.

‘Poland is so utterly screwed with its location between Germany and Russia,’ John thought as he moved towards the allied forces as quickly as possible. If he was going to be at the heart of things, he at least wanted to be where friendly troops were. Rave and everyone else were at the west already, so they were able unite with them in no time, but he had fled even further east after firing the Arcana Strike.

The distance between him and the enemy siege ring was much smaller than the one towards his allies. It was almost guaranteed that he would get intercepted. The sky was filled with contraptions, magical eyes and other forms of scrying magic as the battle preparations finished. The Construct of Order used the two smaller magical cannons on its wings to burn an arcane symbol into the ceiling of the sky. It looked like twin serpents winding around a tree in a walled garden.

Oh, that was just great, why not give the communist bloc means to actually link-up their minds? Not that it was news that they had that power; they had performed as one in the invasion of the colosseum already. Now that they had both surveillance and unity, they moved, and they moved quickly. The whole northern half of the army seemed to collapse in John’s direction.

Jack spied an enemy puppet-spy in the shape of a dragonfly, about fifty metres away from John’s head. Using fifty mana, John quickly assembled a response, a shard of pale blue cutting through the air and ripping the puppet apart.

He wouldn’t be able to reach his allies, he wouldn’t even get close. “If that’s how it has to be,” John mumbled to himself and stopped once he reached a strategically advantageous position. His back was protected by the outstretched arm of the fallen Grey Golem, so enemies could only really approach him from the front while Jack made sure that he would see it when there was anyone heading for him from above, be it by climbing on the fallen titan or by flying.

A second energy beam cut through the air just as a barrage of the Grey Golems ripped craters into the battlefield; the massive attacks clashed into the defensives charms that were charged over generations. The ones that missed created giant smokescreens. Dust whirled into the air. The sound of magic, like fireworks and lightning strikes, filled the barrier in mere seconds, consuming the crisp winter air and filling it with heat and rough particles, the smell of hot iron and valiant as well as desperate cries.

‘Master, what are you doing? Get moving!’ Aclysia’s worry overcame her so subservient personality and made her issue a command; ‘We don’t have the teleports to come to help you!’

‘I am afraid I don’t have the luxury,’ John said; visibility got worse by the second, but he saw the dozens of shadows moving in the dust-clouded distance. His decision to make his stand where he had the advantage was the right one; they would have caught up with him either way. ‘You will have to come and get me; besides, I am not completely alone. I have a plan.’

‘…She will be there as quick as she can!’ Aclysia informed him just as the only one of his elementals that still had the capability to do so appeared at his side.

Undine gifted him with a little smile on her blue lips, a flower in this desolate landscape. “I feel this might be my chance at vindication, being the only one at your side… I know this is illogical, and I know you should be safe instead, but I can’t help but be thankful for this opportunity,” she laid down her deepest thoughts in the privacy of the battlefield.

John reached out to her and touched her face with his dirtied right hand. “You have nothing to prove to me. Imperfection is within all of us; let’s eradicate the ugly parts by admitting they exist,” he gently pulled her into a kiss, one that only lasted two seconds but for which the whole world seemed to wait for them. “Now…” he began, his hand still on her cheek.

“…let us show them…” Undine continued, their minds intertwining, the walls between them breaking down. She was tired; all the healing had left her tapped, and she had no more stamina to unleash again, but for him, she would muster whatever else she still had.

A tide was welling up in his mind as the shadows came closer and broke through into his field of vision. Those green uniforms. The corpses that had lain at Eliza’s feet in the Bloodfallen’s hideout had worn them. The elite fighters who attacked them during the arena had worn them. The cowardly father and the traitorous Fateweaver who abducted Lydia had worn them. The ones who now wanted to end his life wore them.

“”…To gain our ire…”” they finished together; the tide broke out as Undine’s thoughts completely became one with his. Their voices were a whisper that overcame the greatest storm of wrath, focused at those that deserved it, roaring in his mind and in his pumping blood, “..is to die!”

Undine changed into her gloved form just as the shadows finally became identifiable people. In quick succession, John fired an Arcana Strike, tipped his hat and then got into a boxing stance. His left hand was aflame and hid under magical obsidian, the right clad in water harder than steel. Having spent about 3000 mana in the last hour meant that his mana regeneration was increased by an extra 6 per second by the tip. He was awake, wide awake; the sensation of danger pushed everything he had to the highest capacity.

He was strong.

Catapulting a fireball at the first person that came close, John didn’t wait until they engaged him. His back was to the wall; the only way out was forward. The fireball hit the unsuspecting uniform straight in the face, John didn’t wait for her to recovered and instead grabbed her by the windpipe with Purgatory and crushed it.

Discarding the green uniform, he didn’t even think about her anymore as he created a shield of water to block a magically reinforced bolt fired from a crossbowman. All John saw was another green uniform; he had no time to identify people based on their individual features, and it would only have been a hindrance anyway. The battlefield was no place to have the luxury of compassion.

The bolt fell uselessly to the side, and the crossbowman soon turned into a needle-bed as Shardbound flew at him using up the 100 mana John had regenerated in that little span of time. He was currently regenerating, after costs, about 14 mana per second. With Mana Protection active and partially charged, that made that his effective health regeneration.

He felt a tingle, one well known, it was the ever-present knowledge of fire from Wisdom of the Inferno, but a little lighter on the soul. Wisdom of the Air, a lesser version from another element, it only warned him about things that were rather close already.

Creating a bunch of a low-cost shards, John fired them in a circle around himself and found someone hiding in invisibility, thanks to the shard hitting something behind him. It wouldn’t have dealt any damage, but now John knew where he had to punch, and so yet another fireball from a quick left, punching at the air, flew forwards and burned itself into the green uniform.

“How, what?!” a confused sound as the soldier was interrupted by pain in his lightning magic.

“Sorry, but that invisibility trick is getting really old,” John said, efficiently discarding of that man by swiping away his legs and then ending him with a quick stomp to his throat. The kick broke and seared, John’s shoes having their fire aspect invoked. He had no time to care more about that particular green uniformed corpse. Those were the forerunners of the enemy assault, the foolish braves that sought glory by being the first.

The mass assault was about to begin, and John faced it with the certainty of the survivor. Despair would get him nowhere; his chances of survival increased immensely if he actually believed he would survive.

‘And I will get out of here!’ John thought, jumping back as three people hammered at the position he had just been standing at. What level were they? Most of them obviously belonged in the guardsman category, placing them roughly at level 40 to 50. There were some stronger individuals, but as the truly elite people had been used up in the attack on the colosseum, they were unlikely to exceed 100. 70 was more likely, weak Space Marines.

He was 109 by now, and Purgatory boosted his Strength and Agility by a total of 54,5 each. Unless they were fully specialized, they had no chance against him even in a pure brutal close-up confrontation.

‘I will see Jane smile again,’ he felt a ribcage crunch; ‘I will hear Aclysia hum again,’ he conjured a Mana Blade, penetrating a uniform’s chest; ‘I will see Gnome blush, hear Salamander boast,’ he cut three people down with the Mana Blade before it vanished again, ‘Sylph’s blabbering and Undine’s laugh.’ He realized that people had finally begun to climb the broken golem. A quick Shardbound took care of one of them, but many more followed. ‘Even Siena’s sadistic, self-loving attitude will I witness again.’

Jack descended on someone who tried to jump on John from above. The green uniform flailed wildly as the mechanical bird clawed at his eyes before slipping and falling off, hitting his head on the pavement and being an easy target for John to take out a moment later. ‘I will see Eliza’s progress,’ he thought as he turned to glare at the enemy force.

‘Momo will sass at me again, and Nathalia will complain about the lack of food to me,’ he continued as he ducked under a swing by a two-headed axe and grabbed the user’s leg in the process, ripping him off the ground and tossing him off to the side with a fair bit of physical effort.

‘I will watch Nia chase after cats again,’ he told himself, feeling his muscles slowly tire. Gamer’s Body restored his stamina quickly when he rested, but if he kept going like this, it would begin to show. Jack descended on another attempting attack from above, but this one was prepared, catching the bird just as he jumped off and then crushing Jack under the force of impact. The mechanical innards of the bird scattered all over the floor.

Now John was surrounded from all sides, more and more of them jumping down from above. If he had used an Arcane Echo, he would have easily hit more than ten people with it no matter where he aimed, but to gain the amount of mana he needed for that was impossible.

“I will not save Lydia only to die myself,” he growled at the people that had surrounded him, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike like a band of hungry wolves. Then they all jumped at him at once. Fist crashing into one face, whip of water whirling around. If the supreme Fateweaver hadn’t used up his Spell Storage, this would have been perfect.

Mana Protection flared up and died, then flickered and died again, as it worked only with the mana he regenerated, which was now back down to the usual amount. It still saved him a lot of hurt.

However, his arms began to slow, then to burn, weapons penetrating his defences. Daggers scratched over his ribcage, maces broke his shoulders and other bones, and swords were stabbed into his guts. People grabbed his arms, fixating him for mere moments before he managed to free himself, but then more took their place. An endless pile of bodies stacked itself on top of him, and eventually the weight became more than he could carry.

But even then he didn’t give up hope, for he knew that a way out still existed. His health was dwindling, but he still would live a for a little bit longer, and if he was going to die, the Arcana Strike would make sure that every last bastardly uniform that was around him was taken with him.

A blast of air and lightning suddenly struck the pile of bodies on top of him and gave him the opportunity for one last push. His upper body broke out of the darkness of winding bodies. “GRAB MY HAND!” a male voice called out as a kingly cape fluttered on top of a flying piece of debris. John reached out, his right hand was red, water had mixed with spilled blood, but he gripped true and was pulled out of the mass.

John breathed heavily as he halfway collapsed next to the king. “Thanks… buddy,” he pressed out.

“You are insufferable,” Maximillian shook his head and playfully kicked him as Sylph created a cloudy whirlwind that protected them from projectiles and obscured the vision of the mages below; “You can thank that blabbering air spirit of yours for guiding me; the others were too slow.”

“I know,” John groaned and sat up again; he was already beginning to feel better. His HP were quickly ticking up again thanks to Undine, and his mana, although Tip’s regeneration had long ended (lasting only a minute), was restoring by the second. “You think I just blew away all my mana at the start of the fight without insurance?”

“You did what?” Maximillian, who had no idea how Arcana Strike worked, asked.

“Well, let’s just say I knew it would come down to a fistfight and how long I could last. I knew that Undine, if she focused on healing, could keep my alive for a while and that even my physical stats are pretty above average by now. Because, you know, I am a bullshit character,” John explained; “In a fistfight bunkering all my resources for defensive measures would have been pretty meh, so it was either using them for spells in the fight, which I didn’t really need since most of them are like level 50 or something to that effect and go down pretty quickly, or I would use them as my insurance to end this fight in my favour… I think we are up high enough now.”

With that, the Arcana Strike fell on the place where they just fought, desecrating the fallen body of the Grey Golem even further while wiping out the whole stack of people that had assaulted John in an instant, consumed by pillar of blue coloured energy.

“…You are trying to tell me you planned on me saving you?” Maximillian stared at the purple and azure veiled crater where the remains of power still crackled over the ground.

“I actually thought you would be a bit slower, then again, I didn’t fight as well as I thought I could,” John shrugged; “This whole Boxing thing is still new to me. However, yes, I knew that Aclysia had urged you to go forward and save me, just as I knew how quick Sylph is. It was a pretty educated estimate.”

“I dread the thought of you and me becoming true enemies,” Maximillian said, unable to raise his eyes from the crater.

John glanced at Hawpler, wordlessly existing besides his summoner, and then remembered the forces under this man’s control. While it was kind of funny that Maximillian would say the same thing that Lydia once had said, John couldn’t help but feel earnest about this, “You and me both.”