Worthy Core

Commander Gerlosius rises to his feet as soon as he can, although the man strongly suspects he's broken a few ribs. That's a pretty good outcome all things considered, given that the vast majority of the soldiers in the army would've died to an assault like he'd just taken. Gerlosius isn't just anybody, though - he's the Dragonlord's hammer, and he's not about to shatter to something as minor as a few enchanted arrows.

Seeing that the troublesome archer is being dealt with, the officer refocuses on his original goal. With all of the magic flying around, the mist shrouding much of the floor has been at least partially dispersed, and he can just barely make out a set of large, apparently-natural stone pillars in one direction. Intelligence on this particular section of Floor Ten is virtually non-existent but the man knows enough about dungeons to know a marker of a boss arena when he sees one. "Squads, focus your efforts in that direction! We'll find the exit to this accursed floor there! Fliers, clear us a path!"

For most officers it would be easier said than done, but Gerlosius is a Wing Commander at the peak of Master tier. For someone like him, saying is nearly the same thing as doing, as least as long as there's soldiers around to obey his commands. As ground-based soldiers do their best to clear a path through the arcane webs filling the floor, flying mages blast a path with fire or carve one with stone for the soldiers to follow. Their efforts to do so become far more effective than they normally would be, even to the extent of allowing simple blades to at least somewhat cut through the webs pinning them down.

This efficiency comes at a cost, though. With the fliers now focusing on this task they're no longer fighting off the Challengers and soldiers they had encountered throughout the floor, and those combatants are now free to focus their own efforts on defense. One by one demons, draconics, and the few remaining monsters are knocked to the ground by arrow or magic bolt, and while this isn't always immediately lethal...it often is in far too many cases. Many of those mages become trapped in the webs they were attempting to destroy, making them even easier targets for the defenders to finish off. In at least one case a pyromancer demon plummets into her own flames, and it soon becomes apparent that her magic does not grant her an immunity to being burned herself.

Gerlosius sees this, and he continues onward. At this stage in the expedition flying squads are unlikely to be of much further use, and if they must be sacrificed so that the larger bulk of the army can continue forward then so be it. At the least he can say that their sacrifice is not in vain. Bit by bit they drill through the sticky maze, shortcutting a path, and when it comes to dealing with the main force of soldiers the defenders actually have very few options. Traps await, of course, but now that the soldiers have more control over their situation they can focus more on not simply stepping on every random runic mine they come across.

As for the defenders themselves? The maze works against them here, splitting them apart from each other and making it very difficult for them to link up. As long as the Domain expedition stays together, rather than needing to seek a path through the webs, it would be suicide for a handful of Challengers to face them head-on.

Which isn't to say that it doesn't happen. Although shortcut portals do dot the floor, in some cases defenders still find themselves cut off from retreat or confused in the fog and fighting, and are forced to engage in hand-to-hand battles with the superior force. Many of them make a good accounting of themselves...but many of them are merely Advanced or Expert-tier at best, and no match for such superior numbers. As Gerlosius urges his forces onward he finds himself passing the bodies of humans, driders, orcs, and gnolls, and in one case finds himself fighting off a particularly determined minotaur himself.

Eventually however they reach a space not far from the pillars he had seen, and although he'd expected the dungeon to have established a force of dungeon monsters here to meet him, he's surprised to instead find a human. A human with the proudest mustache he's ever seen.

Gesturing for his forces to halt their advance for a moment, Gerlosius steps forward. "Commander Paulados. I am saddened to discover that you did not care for your stay at the Grassbrook Fort under our management. Although perhaps if you find yourself missing it, you can surrender once again and I will return you there at the earliest opportunity. You and your remaining soldiers may yet survive this battle."

"Commander Gerlosius." The human's voice is as firm as his spine as he stands before the invading force, mist and stone at his back. "You know, there is one thing I do regret about my time commanding that fort. I regret that I allowed it to fall without having actually engaged in battle myself. It may have been the wise choice, the right choice, for the time...but it stains my honor still. I swore to defend the Rainlands with my life if I must, and I give thanks to this dungeon for giving me a chance to redeem myself."

The draconic can't keep himself from laughing, at least a little. "Ahaha. As an officer, I do respect you, Paulados. But as a tactician I find your skills sorely lacking. Surrendering was the smartest move you ever made. This? This is nothing but a foolish demise. At least spare the lives of your soldiers, even if you do not care for your own."

Before he gives his response the armor-clad soldier takes a deep breath. He knows he's not the finest that the Rainlands has to offer. If he was, he wouldn't have been assigned to such a remote outpost, one that to this day lacks even a proper, official name. He knows he's probably not even the equal of the man opposite him in either skill or personal strength. He knows his allies are of the fairweather sort - even now he has trouble trusting the Valleylanders among the defenders, not to mention the fact that he's trusting his own troops and life to a dungeon of all things. But he is still a Master-tier Stalwart Leader, a man who's spent over a quarter-century serving in the Rainlands army, and that doesn't count for nothing.

And he knows that he does not stand alone. "Harniel!"

Beside him an elf steps out of the mist, appearing as if from nowhere. His own armor is shinier than any army standard-issue, a symbol of the dungeon's support. Paulados looks at his chief of staff, and the man nods back. "Yes, Commander?"

The human turns back to face his opponent as he responds. "Blow the charge."

As the elven officer puts a horn to his lips and blows, dozens of soldiers emerge from the mist. Very few of them still possess their original armor, but where needed the dungeon had supplied replacements...sometimes dotted by imagery of rabbits or black and white stripes to identify their maker. Following Paulados's lead they charge bravely, filling the gap between the webbed maze and the boss arena - and from a viewpoint atop a stone pillar, Xenia tries to keep her emotions in check.

"I didn't want this. Dammit, I didn't want this."

Floating nearby, Guy guesses at to her meaning. "A battle of the mortals? They've been doing it all along. And is this not a major reason why we rescued the prisoners from Grassbrook?"

"Fighting, I accept. A pitched battle?" She sighs. "This is worse than the arrangement on Floor Four. There's no easy retreat from a setup like this. Even if they win, casualties are going to be massive."

"And yet Commander Paulados himself suggested this plan, and as I recall the army officers were in eager agreement with it. Hrmm." The guide mumbles as they think to themselves. "You are much of an adventurer yourself, I would say. From seeing not just how you fight, but of how you imagine fighting."

Xenia furrows her brow. "I've been a soldier...okay, not quite as often, but more than a fair few times. I know how armies fight."

"But you were never a very good soldier, were you?"

The reincarnator is about to reply to that, but finds that she needs to consider it for a moment. "I...guess not, nah. Whenever I got drafted or signed up as a merc or whatever, I was kind of lousy at following orders. And the couple of times I ended up in charge...I guess I was more of the 'champion' sort of leader than the 'tactician' kind. I know there's that quote about great generals studying logistics or whatever, but I always left that crap to others."

"As I surmised. So when you envision a battle between opposing forces, I imagine in your mind it takes the form of great champions dueling, rather than the masses slamming into each other in walls of muscle and metal?"

Xenia watches on, seeing as kobolds and humans and demons and elves fight and die below her. "I wish I could do that! We've got that plan for the Dragonlord, but it needs the right moment...and they haven't even stepped inside yet, the coward!"

"Because they have never been an adventurer." The screen bobs. "They will present themselves when the moment comes that their strength is required to finish the battle. To do that we need to slay their pawns...and there are far more of them than monsters alone can manage. But we do have soldiers. And soldiers must fight as soldiers do, as they have trained and as their officers command."

"Well..." Xenia sighs before she issues a command of her own. "At least they don't fight alone. The Domain's fully committed now, send in the backup."

"As you order, ma'am."

Down below, things are looking...rough. While the average soldier of the Domain is not of the same quality as the Supreme-tier mercenaries, they are the best soldiers the Dragonlord had available for this mission. Meanwhile the soldiers of the Rainlands are, well...the ones who were available. The ones who were assigned to a remote tripwire outpost, who have spent a month inside an underground tavern or the tents of a prison camp. Even with their enchanted gear they yet remain a step behind their Domain counterparts, if perhaps a small one.

They find themselves very relieved then when a terrifying voice speaks up from the flanks. "Looook, Tank! Tasty koboldsss!"

"They shall be crushed beneath our fiiiists."

Although Tank and Dips had long gotten a reputation as being among the easier bosses of the dungeon, and they are currently far from their home floor, they are now S-tier undead. So it has to be said that when the possessed suits of oversized armor suddenly emerge from the mists and begin swinging their weapons there's a bit of unease on the part of the Domain soldiers. That feeling is emphasized when BB leaps over their heads, aiming to assassinate a few of their officers.

Gerlosius was expecting the arrival of more monsters however, as the draconic is not a fool. "Clerics! Those undead will need your attention! Mages, pin down that rogue with area of attack spells! Maintain the defensive line! Keep a watch for - "

"FACE ME!"

The draconic pauses and slowly grins as he spots the human who finally made his way to Gerlosius's position. "A bold move, Paulados. You believe a human can stand up to a draconic? Then allow me to educate you!"

The two officers clash, similarly armed with sword and shield. Sure enough, Gerlosius has nearly every advantage in this duel. He has the longer reach, the tougher skin, the stronger muscles. But - he is wounded, and tired compared to the human who challenged him. Blows that should have finished Paulados are deflected or dodged, and the human's weaker attacks have their effects amplified whenever they strike the draconic's shattered ribs.

It's not enough. Honor, and righteousness, and perhaps even glory do not always add up to counting more than an extra foot or more of reach. Gerlosius's sword punctures its way through the side of the Stalwart Leader's armor, tearing through his heart and lungs. The man is strong, though, and lasts long enough for one final exchange of words.

"For the...the Rainlands."

"For your death, fool. You never stood a - hrng!" As it turns out, rogues don't respect the tradition of dramatic deaths and final words very much. While Gerlosius is distracted BB chooses that moment to hop his way up the Wing Commander's back and plant a poisoned dagger in the man's neck, just missing the spine. It's his own last act for this battle - Almost instinctively, Gerlosius's hand reaches back to grab the rabbity assassin and snap his own neck. It's far too late to do Gerlosius any good.

From a short distance away Harniel watches as Gerlosius collapses atop the body of his commander. The Domain's lost a key figure here, but without Paulados to provide a magical boost to his own soldiers, the edge remains with their enemy. The monsters are dead or soon to be. They have sapped the enemy's strength, and for now...that will have to be enough.

"Retreat! Rainlanders, retreat!"

A few remaining arachnid warriors, waiting for this signal, rush forward to once again buy the mortals some time with their lives. One by one the survivors disappear once more into the mist, leaving far too many of their companions behind.

And above, an adventurer's fury grows.

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