A Ghost's Wish [MxM]

43. A Skirmish

Oliver felt a deep reluctance to march toward the city walls. His body screamed to return to the north. He clenched his hands tightly and reminded himself that this time he was not returning in a cage, but this time didn't feel any better. 

"Oli?" Draco called out, breaking him from his silence.

Oliver shook himself from his dark memories. "It's nothing. Let's get this over with." He wrapped a grey cloak around his shoulders and pulled the hood up to hide his stark white hair.  He dug his heels into his horse's sides and rode toward that foreboding city.

However, they did not get too far when Oliver stopped the group and breathed in deeply. "Smoke and blood." He said quietly as he looked towards the sky, hoping to find a smoke plume.

Draco pointed to the southeast, where a light grey plume was billowing. "Shall we have some fun?"

Oliver nodded with a smirk pulling at his lips, and they turned their horses towards the fire in the distance. It didn't take too long to close the distance, and the smell of the smoke and blood had become thick. The sound of their horses' hooves was accompanied by the screams and cries of two parties fighting.

It was a skirmish. 

Oliver cursed as he saw a procession of carriers bearing the flags of Abrorg and Osmela; however, some of their carriages were on fire.  Priests were conjuring shields and trying to ward off attacks, but they had weakened under constant pressure.  

A large Ravagers raid was underway. The feral-like men swooped in in waves, first with magic, followed by swords. The paladins held them back with their shields, while the Abrorg troops would jump through the line of defense and cut their enemies down. They were holding their own while Imran fought with a large Ravager; however, he still spared a glance towards the battle and called out orders.

A terrible spell ripped through the air, about to slam into Imran, but a large shield of silver light materialized in front of him, blocking the attack. Oliver's eyes snapped to the person who conjured it, and his eyes widened with surprise.

An older man was standing in pure white robes with ancient words embroidered on his hem in silver. His long auburn hair was streaked with grey and tied neatly behind him. In his hands was an ivory staff, and it amplified his power.  He uttered a few hushed words, and another shield was erected, saving the lives of a few more men. 

Pope Commodus, Gallio's father and ruler of Osmela. He had never joined the war, so Oliver had never had an opportunity to face him. After watching how seamless his magic was, Oliver was glad he was never his opponent.

"Cursed hells," Oliver murmured. "The Ravagers had another way to sneak south."

They had become unpredictable, deviating from his previous life. Unfortunately, the Ravagers we cautious this time, and a portion of the troops stayed back to launch a pincer attack. Oliver cursed as he aimed toward the Ravagers, who were emerging from their hiding place.

"Archers, aim for the vitals," Oliver called out. "Lancers, to the front with me. Swordsmen follow behind for a second wave."

Both the men from Wynter and Rucrea obeyed him immediately without a second thought.

The approaching Ravagers soon found they were under attack and tried to prepare. But Oliver's orders were sharp and concise, while his powerful troops worked in tandem. They soon broke through the Ravager's line, forcing them to collapse under pressure.

Oliver ordered the men to split and half help the other kingdoms. Oliver and Draco cut down the enemies on their side and then rushed to help the others. With the extra numbers, it didn't take long to clean up the rest. With the last few cuts, they finished off the Ravagers, but Imran was still fighting his battle with the Ravager.