Bwahahahaha! Behold my power! I have to say, watching the devastation unleashed by the gravity bomb never fails to elicit an exaggerated sense of achievement in me. Look at what I have wrought! In reality, the bomb is structurally the simplest piece of magic I've ever attempted on Pangera, a blob of pure gravitational mana crushed into itself as hard as I can manage before being flung out into the world. Far more than Cunning, Will is the stat that determines the strength of this spell since my ability to force and compact mana is dependent on my willpower. The current rendition of my most destructive spell can only be called an unqualified success by my own standards. The potent drag of the expanded gravity bomb threatens to pull me from my perch on the ceiling and I see many ants fighting to maintain their position on the walls.
What it feels like closer to the epicentre, I can only imagine. Unpleasant, I'm sure. Although all of my brains are exhausted so soon after releasing the gravity mana, I extend my senses out towards the Legion in order to get a sense of how the struggle is going. Thankfully, they're struggling. Although they have expertly layered their defensive abilities with magical shields and ripped away at my spell, they've not been able to do the work that they have previously to mitigate the spell before it was able to land. The many pronged attack of the Colony has done its work in forcing our opponents into having to make difficult decisions. Do they try and hold the ceiling together and strike back at the ants positioned in the tunnels there? Do they fend off the limitless poisoned tentacles of the centi-sludge, or do they commit everything to limiting the impact of the gravity bomb?
It feels as if they chose to do all of the above and as a result they've lost some ground on each front. Sections of the tunnel roof are starting to slip even as the shadow pets begin to close on their lines, reaching out to spread their toxic blessing and the bomb is shattering the protections they put in place just as quickly as they put them up. It's clear that the Legion didn't expect us to be able to bring the number of mages to bear that we have, expecting that they would retain their comfortable superiority in this regard. The fools!
From my perspective, all action in the tunnel has come to a stop as the screaming sphere of black death slowly rotates in place as it consumes everything that falls into its maw. The air, the dirt, the light, nothing is safe from its insatiable hunger and all we can do is hold on until it peters out. After hurling this spell into the teeth of the Legion so many times without breaking through, it's almost a shock when a notification from Gandalf comes through,
[You have defeated level 53 Abyssal Legion Scout]
[You have gained XP]
[You achieved Level 63, One skill point awarded]
Holy moly! I actually got one? Take that! Wait… it wasn't Morrelia was it? Ugh, can I really afford to worry about that right now? I force all thoughts of the dark haired berserker from my mind and focus on the task at hand. The Legion is under extreme pressure right now and if we're going to win we can't allow it to stop. The second the spell runs out of power it flickers and then fades to nothing. The silence and stillness that hangs in the air is profound after the cacophony of shrieking wind that had felt so oppressive just a moment ago. The Legion is still there, ranked up together with shields to the front, but it's clear that those in the vanguard have suffered under the effects of my spell. Many are showing injuries, some have collapsed to the ground, one knee in the dirt as they breathe heavily. Tanking the brunt of my strike for their fellows has cost these Legionaries dearly and for many of them they will have no further part in this battle. I notice Morrelia is not among the wounded which gives me mixed feelings. On the other hand, I know how to feel about the hulking, axe wielding form in front of the column. That massive chap appears almost totally unharmed, with barely a scuff in his armour. Judging by the positioning of the other soldiers, it appears as if the nearby Legionaries stepped forward to protect their leader from the worst of it, taking the wrath of the gravity bomb onto their own shoulders. An action that caused one of them to pay the ultimate price.
Unwilling to let this chance slip, the ants dash forward to renew their bombardment, with Tiny, Invidia and Crinis joining in from a safe distance. Wearing down the opponent before the final clash is still the name of the game and I refuse to let Tiny leap into the ranks of the enemy and get himself filleted by the axe guy before he manages to land a single punch. Instead, I have him throwing boulders using his considerable arm strength and blasting out with lightning when he gets a chance. Just as the long range strike begins once more, the Legion appears to make a decisive move, advancing rapidly toward the wall. I can see the wounded and exhausted warriors being picked up and moved to the rear of the column which flows around them like water even as the axe wielding hulk bullies his way forward at their head. The imposing soldier batters aside the projectiles directed at him, or just plain ignores them, allowing the acid and spells to smack into his crackling armour as if uncaring of his own safety. With each step, he gathers momentum and I begin to sense an ominous energy building within the head of the axe. Wild, brutal and hungry for violence, that's the sense I get. An unrestrained thirst for blood and vengeance emanates from the weapon and many ants within range of the baleful aura react with insectile rage. The energy contained within the weapon grows and grows as the figure draws closer, climbing to unbelievable heights but even so the strike isn't unleashed. What the heck are they aiming for?
Then it hits me.
[He's going for the gate!] I roar at Invidia, [Shield now!]
The demon has nothing if not a quick mind and before I even finish the thought the flow of mana around the gate behind me has begun to swirl and shift and the little eyeball shapes it into barriers.
"He's going to try and bring down the gate! Hit him! Defend the Nest!" I blast the entire tunnel with pheromones, snapping every ant within range to attention.
"FOR THE COLONY!" they roar as they rush into battle.
This guy wants to bring down the gates himself? He's either mad or far more powerful than we expected and I'm terrified that it's the latter. Even so, what can we do? If we must fall to preserve the Colony, then that's exactly what we are going to do. Filled with this resolution, I drop from the tunnel roof and position myself between the lone Legionary and the gate, putting my exquisite diamond form in the firing line. Come on then you stupid spectre of death. Let's see if you can charge into the mandibles of the Colony and walk away unscathed!
