A small part of my consciousness counted the number of mages on that field, even as I tore through their ranks, and they were exactly two hundred and six.
Nineteen Adepts, the rest Acolytes, holding a broken Academy line against a low stone wall, and they had the advantage. After all, they were the invaders, and they were ready for war, and most mages on the continent were not Battlemages, just normal craftsmen and scholars looking for the truth… for them to have held on this long against the Conclave was a miracle.
I got through a hundred of them before anyone on either side understood what was happening. They were Acolytes and Adepts, and they had no defense against me. Their spells passed through my afterimages, their shields shattered at my touch, their bodies fell before they could scream.
The Academy forces, the blue and grey mages who had been on the verge of breaking, watched in stunned silence as the Conclave formation collapsed from within.
∞
