Chapter 99 – The Long Shot

  On the Ridge

  The ridge overlooked chaos—an inferno lurking just beyond the edge of sight.

  From their high vantage point, Seven and Brinley surveyed the battlefield below, where the war raged with unyielding ferocity. Novastra’s defenses flickered like dying stars in a storm, the great barrier dome shimmering like a wobbly mirage, while mana towers sputtered ominously, releasing bursts of erratic light. And looming beyond it all, like a wrathful deity, the Titan advanced through a swarm of Wild Beasts, a colossal monument of muscle and rage, radiating an ominous crimson glow.

  Brinley tightened her grip on the humming binoculars, the lenses aglow with pale runes that danced as she focused. “Multiple breaches along the east wall,” she reported, her voice taut with urgency. “The guild and the city's military are holding, but it’s only a matter of time. It’s bad—really bad.”

  Seven crouched beside her, the weight of the Nameless Wing rifle resting against a rugged outcrop of stone. Its age was evident in the cracks along its casing, yet its core thrummed with lethal potential. He adjusted the rifle against his shoulder, feeling the familiar strain in his bionic arm—servos protesting under the burden.

  “That’s pushing it,” Brinley warned, eyes narrowing. “Even with mana infusion, you’re over half a klick away.”

  “Good thing comfort’s not in the job description,” Seven shot back, steeling himself. He inhaled deeply, steadying his aim as the crosshairs locked onto the hulking Ice Wyrm, its massive head battering the eastern wall, shards of frost exploding around it.

  He exhaled—a breath hanging like a prayer in the freezing air—and pressed the trigger.

  The rifle erupted with a roar that shook the very ground beneath them, blue-white light tearing across the sky, vanishing into the storm.

  A heartbeat later, stone erupted from Novastra’s battlements in a violent explosion. Shards of dust and debris rained down on the defenders below like shards of a shattered dream.

  Brinley flinched, a flash of horror crossing her face. “You just hit our own wall!”

  “First shot’s for calibration,” Seven retorted, teeth clenched as he ejected the glowing cell and reloaded. The tension was palpable, the air thick with foreboding.

  Voices erupted below, panic infusing their shouts: “Who the hell’s shooting at us!?”

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  Great, now I’m famous, Seven thought dryly, but he couldn’t afford to be distracted. He reloaded, adjusted the regulator, and fired again. The second round cut through the blizzard with lethal precision, slicing through the Wyrm’s flank. The beast shrieked as its scales shattered in a burst of frost-blue light, but it continued its ferocious assault on the wall, undeterred.

  “Too shallow,” Brinley observed, her focus unwavering, her voice steady despite the chaos unfolding. “Feed it more mana—just don’t fry your arm while doing it.”

  “Working on it,” Seven replied, his voice low, each word laced with determination. He cranked up the mana infusion, the weapon thrumming against his shoulder, the reality of the battle echoing in his bones. The barrel ignited to a cherry-red glow as the mana channels screamed with heat.

  With a steady breath, he took aim once more and fired.

  The shot sliced through the storm and slammed into the Wyrm’s chest, exploding in a violent halo of blue flame. The creature convulsed, its petrified shriek reverberating through the valley as it collapsed sideways, bringing down a dozen smaller beasts in its wake.

  The ground shook with the impact, and for a fleeting moment, the siege line wavered.

  Seven lowered the rifle, smoke curling from the muzzle like an afterthought of destruction. “Got it,” he declared, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him.

  Brinley let out a disbelieving breath, a flicker of admiration lighting her eyes. “Nice shooting,” she conceded, yet the grin faded as she added, “but congratulations—you just painted a target on our backs.”

  Below, a half-dozen beasts had shifted their focus from the besieged city to the ridge, their eyes glinting crimson in the swirling storm, a pack unleashed. A predatory hunger simmered in the air, and the thrill of battle was far from over.

  War Rabbit Guild Command

  Inside Novastra’s command hall, the air vibrated with noise—alarms, mana bursts, shouting voices. The central holo-table flickered with crimson sigils marking the breaches along the wall.

  Miss Hopps stood at the center, ears pinned back, cloak brushing the floor. “Report!”

  Luro’s voice crackled through the comm-crystals. “Outer defenses unstable! The east sector’s mana grid is red-lining—engineers are trying to reroute flow!”

  Ripper’s gravel-deep tone cut through the static. “Holding the breach! That Wyrm’s chewing through reinforcements. I’ll handle it.”

  Hopps looked up at the feed—Ripper towered amid the chaos, axe glowing with etched runes, carving through frost-slick hide. “HowlCrests! Hold formation!” he bellowed. Mana flared from his strikes, splitting through the snow like lightning.

  Another explosion rocked the wall.

  “Unidentified mana signature outside the perimeter!” Luro shouted. “Someone’s firing from the ridge!”

  Hopps froze. “Outside?”

  A grainy secondary feed opened on the holo-table—a long-range drone visual. Two figures on a ridge: one kneeling behind a glowing rifle, the other scanning with spotter gear.

  Hopps’ eyes widened. “That’s him,” she whispered. “That’s Seven.”

  Ripper’s rough chuckle rolled over the comms. “Heh. Guess the rookies decided to join the party.”

  “Or save it,” Hopps shot back. “Keep that Wyrm down. If he’s covering us, we don’t waste the chance.”

  Fire Support

  Back on the ridge, Seven adjusted for wind, his vision tunneling from exhaustion. Each recoil jarred his wounded shoulder; each trigger pull drained his mana reserve.

  Brinley’s voice stayed sharp beside him, calm amid the storm. “Left two degrees—gust’s shifting!”

  “Copy!” he barked.

  He compensated, fired.

  The mana-charged round detonated among a cluster of smaller beasts near the wall, scattering them in a burst of ice and blood.

  Through the drifting smoke, the defenders surged forward—Ripper’s axe flaring, Hopps’ halberd cleaving through the front line. Guild banners re-emerged from the chaos, pushing the creatures back yard by yard.

  “That’s two solid hits,” Brinley said, scanning through her scope. “You’re stabilizing.”

  “Still breathing,” Seven muttered. Sparks crawled along his bionic arm, the metal glowing faintly from the heat. “But this thing’s close to burnout.”

  A tremor rolled through the ground—deep, rolling, endless. The ridge shivered beneath their feet.

  Brinley’s ears flattened. “The Titan’s moving again.”

  Seven looked up. The colossal silhouette had turned fully toward Novastra, leaving the scattered beasts behind. Its steps came slow and deliberate now, each one shaking the clouds of snow from the mountainside.

  He chambered another round, jaw set. “Then we’re not done yet.”