He slipped from his saddle and handed the reins to Vesna. 'I'm about to take the greatest gamble of all, but at last I'm not afraid. I'll trust the quality of my friends to see it through.'
Awkwardly, he held out an arm to Vesna, who stared at it in shock for a moment before taking it.
'Goodbye, my friend,' Isak said simply. 'Thank you.'
And with that he turned around and walked towards the Menin line. The Farlan knights parted before him, some staring in bafflement, others saluting the silver-clad giant. He could hear the repeated orders being relayed throughout the legions, and the clamour as his men hurried to obey his last order.
Vesna too heard the sound of the general retreat, but he couldn't focus on it, not even when a hurscal grabbed his arm and yelled something in his face. He could make no sense of the man's words…
Then General Lahk roared, 'Count Vesna, you have your orders! Lead the way, man!' and Vesna shook himself.
He looked up at the man who'd commanded him all the years he'd served in the Ghosts. His eyes inevitably fell to the ruby sitting in his palm, then he turned back to watch Isak as the white-eye walked calmly towards the enemy army, already wrapped in crackling coils of lightning.
Qods preserve you, my friend, he thought and raised the ruby to scratch the skin below his eye. An unusually sharp sting flared on his face and he instinctively jerked his hand out of the way — before realising that the ruby had stayed there. He tried to pull it away, but realised it was now fixed to his cheek — yet that was the least of his concerns as he felt himself surrounded by shadows. He saw horror on the hurscal's face before the man was hidden from sight by a swirling funnel of darkness. A fire burst into life in his belly.
All at once he felt every injury he'd ever received, every battlefield scar, cut and bruise flared to life, and Vesna howled at the excruciating pain, his head turned up towards the sky. He felt the shadows surge down his throat, driving him backwards, almost off his horse, before he caught his balance. His nerves burst into life, as if they were a map of sensation tracing every inch of his body. The screams and clamour of past battles echoed in his ears.
'My general,' said Karkarn in his ear, so deafeningly loud that Vesna felt the words reverberate through his whole body and remain, shuddering, in his bones. All around him he suddenly felt raw power, both terrible and beautiful in its savagery, and his muscles flooded with sudden inhuman strength. His vision cleared and the whole battlefield stretched out before him so he could see every curve and contour of the ground ahead. He could feel the fear in the eyes of his distant enemy, he tasted the blood on the wind.
'Raise your sword, my general,' Karkarn cried, 'we go to war!'
Isak felt the coursing power increase with every step he took as, unchecked, the magic from the Skull grew into a furious storm.
The air shuddered under the assault and the ground beneath his feet trembled as the grass was slashed and torn by the lashing coils of energy. Up above clouds swirled closer, lowering and rumbling over the plain.
His senses were opened so wide to the Land around him that he could smell the dragon now; its presence was impossible to ignore. Isak was surrounded by a corona of blistering light as he walked towards the Menin troops. Behind him he sensed the sudden divine aura of Karkarn manifesting, but he forced himself to ignore it. He was close enough now that he could see the horror on the faces of his enemy, terrified by the gross display of unrestrained power.
Some nervous eyes began to turn east, to where the dragon was becoming clearer, but most remained on him as the raging corona surrounding him began to form into a cohesive mass. Distantly, Isak felt magic striking his shell of translucent white fire shell, but it spluttered into nothing as it hit the raw power.
As he felt the dragon near him, he raised his shield above his head, sending a wavering column of light up into the massing clouds. The storm responded to him and Isak felt the ear'Splitting crash of lightning assail his protective cocoon. He looked up to see the enormous beast check its momentum, throwing its vast tail forward and its head back as another bolt of lightning split the air, then another.
Isak continued onwards; he knew he couldn't control such a monstrous amount of magic for long without burning his mind out. Fifty paces from the enemy line, a bolt struck the huddled troops, tearing a hole in the ranks. He added his own power to that and heard the screams as magic set a dozen or more alight.
More lightning fell, the frequency and intensity increasing with every strike. Hanging in the air the dragon wheeled and turned, searching for a safe path through the supernatural lightning to Isak. It roared in pain, its voice rivalling the thunder that boomed out over the plain. Its scaled body shone with emerald light as the lightning raced over its body.
Driven backwards, the dragon reeled from the blow, but not even the power of the storm was enough to knock the monster from the sky. It had enough height to recover, and it used its gigantic pale green wings to heave its way up again. Isak sensed the beast's shock, but its rage was undiminished. As best he could, he directed the storm towards it and was rewarded by the sight of the dragon retreating another few hundred yards before it landed heavily.
With his shield and sword raised, Isak marched towards the Menin infantry, and they scattered before him, too scared to face the furious storm of energy surrounding him. A second line of troops lay behind: cavalry and pikemen packed in tightly. Isak didn't falter, but scanned the field urgently: he didn't have much time left. The Crystal Skull defended his mind while it fed it with power only the Gods could comprehend, but that torrent of power was too much for any mortal to handle for long — let alone a novice. Soon the weakest link in the chain would snap, and the riot of raw power would react like a whiplash.
Finally he spotted them: a beastman in armour and a large knight with Lord Styrax's emblem painted in white on his chest, sitting on horseback between the cavalry and infantry: General Gaur and Scion Kohrad, Styrax's son.
As he pressed on, each step required more and more effort as he felt his own awareness bleeding away. More magic struck him, but still to no effect; more lighting hammered down with the rage of Gods and tore men apart. He saw General Gaur point in his dir-ection, though the words were lost in an ocean of noise, and saw crossbowmen level their weapons. With a sweep of his hand Isak tore a furrow through them, ripping the soldiers open three ranks deep, leaving only corpses behind.
Without warning, he broke into a run, intent on closing the ground while he still could. General Gaur spurred forward to meet him, but Isak swatted both huge warhorse and its rider sprawling as he charged straight at Kohrad.
Kastan Styrax's son was no coward. The young white-eye roared a challenge, slipping from his horse, and swung both axe and sword at Isak, who lunged forward, using his own weapons to deflect Kohrad's. He hit Kohrad, only a glancing blow but it drove the smaller white-eye back, and a bolt of lightning crashed down between them. Kohrad howled and attacked again, feinting high then cutting at Isak's legs. He tried in vain to knock Eolis from Isak's grasp, but the Farlan lord dodged and smashed his shield into Kohrad's face. Kohrad rode the blow and slashed at Isak with both his weapons, bearing down so that Isak was forced backwards, but he caught the blows on his shield and lashed out with Eolis, a volley of cuts that had Kohrad defending desperately-
— until a blast of thunderous power gouged a great furrow in the ground between the two, forcing them apart.