The gun came to life.
Deadrick watched as the end of the turret lit up with a bright, green light. There was a great big whooshing sound, followed by a loud pop, as a huge ball of pure Ecrid energy erupted from it.
The sphere thundered over the heads of the Unholy, before it crashed with a roar into the middle of the crowd.
The sphere opened like a balloon full of liquid. The Ecrid flooded over the Unholy, sending shrill, horrific screams into the air as it burnt through like they were nothing more than tissue paper.
The rest of the crowd suddenly came to life, and Deadrick was aware of the werewolves running past him, but he was too entranced with watching Bruad turn the gun to the left and fire it again.
The sphere thundered into one of the remaining guns, disintegrating it within seconds. The splash also sprayed over a Vampire who was running to activate it, who fell to the ground, screaming, and then went quiet- the Ecrid still eating through him.
“Deadrick!” Nerui yelled, “Lets go!”
Deadrick turned to follow her down onto the battlefield, but something drew his eye back to the ramparts.
His mouth dropped and his eyes went wide as he saw the gun activate. Bruad couldn’t see it.
He was about to get killed, and there was nothing Deadrick could do.
Bruad heard the whoosh from behind him.
He turned the turret and saw the green light at the narrow end of the gun to his right.
He saw the grinning, snarling face of the Vampire sitting in the seat of it. He went to shoot, but he knew there was no way that he could get a shot off before the Vampire did.
The Ecrid grew brighter and brighter, the very sight of the sickly green light sending shivers through his body.
He tried to pull his consciousness from the gun, but it wouldn’t let him go. It seemed to hold onto him with a death grip. It was a living being- it didn’t want to die.
All Bruad could do was stare into the face of death as the light grew to its climax.
He went to scream, but it was cut short as a shadow fell from above, and landed on the Vampire’s guns platform.
He watched as the new arrival gripped the Vampire’s head, and vigorously twisted, snapping its neck.
The cloaked figure lifted up the Vampire, who’s head now lolled awkwardly under its shoulders, and threw it into the crowd.
Suddenly without the Vampire to channel the Ecrid through it, the light at the end of the gun died.
Bruad looked at the person who had saved his life with a blank face. This was returned with a nod from the hooded rescuer. Bruad nodded back to him, as he sat down in the guns seat, and activated in like he had done it a thousand times before.
The gun activated again, and the figure began to fire into the crowd.
Deadrick dived into the crowd, firing off ten shots, which took out seven attacking Unholy.
He unsheathed his gun and drew his blade and snapped a grenade from his belt. He pulled the pin with his teeth and threw over the wall of Unholy, it exploded with a loud bang.
Deadrick had seen Garum stop the Vampire from killing Bruad, he’d almost smiled when he’d activated a second gun. They now had twice the amount of firepower to use against the already disorientated Unholy.
The crowd had managed to cobble together a makeshift wall, but it was no match for Skrule and the pack.
They had run at the crowd, and tore through them like butter. They were the front line.
Deadrick, Nerui and Danyel followed behind them, catching the Unholy that had just about managed to slip under the claws of the wolves.
With Bruad and Garum keeping them disoriented and taking out a great number of Unholy at a time, and the werewolves slowly tearing and slicing their way through the crowd, it looked like they had easily gained the advantage in the battle that Deadrick, only minutes before, had had doubts about.
As Deadrick dug his dagger into a Witches throat, a loud pop and a rip caught his attention.
He looked up, feeling his heart sink as he saw a huge portal hanging in the air.
“No…” He said under his breath.
He watched the glowing rip intently, his heart thumping.
“Deadrick…” Danyel had come up to him, looking up. He knew what was coming.
Suddenly, amid the howls and the screeches of the battlefield, there came a roar that sent shivers down Deadrick’s spine.
He could only watch helplessly as a long, sleek shadow, bigger than the Ghost of The Inquisitor, came gliding out of the portal.
The condemned Dragon gave out another deafening roar, spitting huge gobs of fire. It flew low, swinging out its giant talon-like feet, sending a group of ten of Skrule’s pack barreling into the air.
It climbed again, banking past the still open portal.
Deadrick narrowed his eyes- the portal was still open.
Before he could register what was happening, two more massive Dragons had found their way through the portal.
This isn’t good, Deadrick thought.