Chapter 2125: Understanding An Old Man’s Words
Chapter 2125: Understanding An Old Man’s Words
"Now!"
Bright elemental lights erupted across the sand as the four human Ninth stage Sovereigns launched their assault. The desert air shimmered with heat and residual energy, dust rising in thin spirals wherever the forces collided.
Grey and Reynolds struck the two Gnomes in front of them without hesitation. The speed of the other humans’ reaction caught Grey slightly off guard, yet he was glad for it. The faster they end the fighting here, the sooner he’ll be able to return to the Peak Sovereign battlefield to assist the others.
Not all six Gnomes died from the sneak attack. Three were killed with ruthless attacks. The other three were seriously wounded, only managing to hand on to their lives by the thinnest of margins. Pained groans slipped out from their mouths simultaneously.
The four humans stared at the result, momentarily stunned. The three surviving Gnomes didn’t survive due to any form of swift reaction. Rather, they survived because the three Ninth stage Sovereigns who accompanied the man had been wary of the Gnomes’ counterattack when they attacked, so they didn’t use their full strength, unlike what Grey, Reynolds, and the other man did. It was within reason for them to act in such a cautious manner, but they felt a slight feeling of regret now that they thought about the opportunity potentially slipping away.
The man who recognized Grey turned to thank him and found only the fading trails of two streaks of light already racing deeper into the battlefield. He said nothing. Instead he charged at the wounded Gnomes that remained.
The surviving Gnomes had pieced the identity of Grey together by then. Every one of them knew the name Grey Dawson and the story of the Peak Sovereign he had killed not too long ago. They knew what happened when he severed the bond between a Gnome and its puppet. Orders had been clear: never summon a puppet if Grey was present. The problem was that Grey rarely stayed in one place long enough for anyone to be certain of his location. None of them had expected him in this remote stretch of desert.
One of the injured Gnomes tried to shout a warning to the wider field. He saw the three corpses, then the streak of light that was Grey already leaving, and for a brief second relief flickered through his eyes that he almost forgot where he was. That relief died the instant he remembered the four humans still standing in front of him. A heavy sense of death made his heart throb violently.
He threw up a hasty shield of darkness and tried to retreat. The shield lasted less than a heartbeat. Flames swallowed it and the Gnome together. Elsewhere the other two Gnomes met the same end under different elemental attacks, their bodies dropping onto the sun-baked sand.
The four humans looked at one another, then broke into rough, relieved laughter. Their morale surged with this kill. The man who had been present at Old Humphrey’s manor that first day finally understood the weight behind the old man’s earlier words: "We have Grey Dawson with us."
He had never imagined he would one day be able to cut down a fellow Ninth stage Sovereign as easily as butchering a chicken, and with a single blow at that. With someone like Grey on their side, the war no longer felt hopeless. The only question that still nagged at him was why no one else possessed abilities like these. He pushed the thought aside, raised a fist, and shouted,
"Kill the invaders!"
The others raised their fists in answer and charged after the twin trails of light.
Grey and Reynolds did not slow down for one second. They headed straight for the deepest part of the battlefield, where the majority of both Ninth stage Sovereigns still clashed. Grey needed to thin the Gnome ranks as quickly as possible so he could return to Old Humphrey and the others. The open desert stretched wide around them, the distant roar of the main fight rolling across the flats like distant thunder. Scars of earlier elemental clashes marked the ground in blackened patches and cracked stone.
Along the way they passed several smaller skirmishes identical to the first: clusters of Gnomes surrounding handfuls of humans. Each time they intervened, more rescued Ninth stage Sovereigns joined the line behind them. The line of followers grew longer with every fight they encountered.
By the time they reached the heart of the Ninth stage battlefield they had killed sixteen Ninth stage Gnomes. The number was staggering when measured against the original force of little more than forty. Even so, the humans still held no clear advantage. They had begun the day with roughly twenty-five Ninth stage Sovereigns. Two had died before Grey returned from the Peak Sovereigns’ battlefield. Two more had fallen while he and Reynolds raced across the field. The sudden loss of so many Gnomes had only driven the other Gnomes into greater ferocity.
Grey’s arrival, together with the ten or so humans who now trailed him, drew every remaining eye. The Gnomes’ faces turned cold. They pulled together into a tight group. The humans did the same.
Twenty-three Ninth stage Gnomes remained. On the human side stood twenty-two, counting Reynolds. Without puppets the numbers would have been nearly even, yet most of the humans carried serious wounds and could only use a little more than sixty percent of their full strength. The desert wind carried the sharp scent of blood and scorched earth between the two formations.
One Gnome stepped forward. A skull crest marked the left side of his chest.
"Grey Dawson."
Grey heard the name and subconsciously rolled his eyes. In the space of only a few minutes he had already faced this same scenario a few times. This was also how the emissary as well as the other Gnomes he had faced in this manner reacted.
He couldn’t help but think if there would ever be a Gnome that wouldn’t have such a reaction when they met.