Kryssa’s eyes opened as she stopped talking to Ratface. The elf was trying to keep her composure, but Albert could see the faint tightness around her eyes.

  You’d think the glamour less tells given that she could control her body. He’d found she had the same tells as anyone else she just did a good job at hiding it. Perhaps that was the price she paid for such a solid image. Albert had gotten Isabelle to show him what fighting an illusionist was like before they left.

  You’d think it taught you not to trust your eyes, but the opposite was true, no illusion was perfect, no trap ever covered every moment. You just had to look for the way out.

  It was much like how Ratface thought in hindsight. The goblin was always looking around, her eyes darting as searched a room for exits. He wasn’t even sure she consciously did it. Was it a goblin thing? Or just her?

  If she were on the outside now, how would she solve the problem?

  His eyes fell on their valiant leader in her absence. Abigail was a terrifying woman. As a general rule, the older the fighter, the more dangerous they were, and Abigail looked pretty old from where he was sitting. Her fingers drummed on her armour as she stared at the inner city.

  They were in the outer city; it was a place that the magic was so thick you could feel it brush against your skin. Each building they’d run into had been like they were competing with each other. The ones that had stuck out to him most had been a group of houses put together. One of water and one of fire swirling the air between them to make a twisting home of air. Deeper in was a set of walls with four entrances. The walls themselves were a mix of stone and magic layered on top of each other. His understanding was that both were designed to stay in place if the other fell.

  Inside the walls was the inner city. A dark dome that held their friend prisoner.

  “There is a small entrance that we should be able to take, it won’t be heavily guarded because it’s not well known,” said Abigail. She had started moving before she even finished talking and Kryssa was right next to her. It was only then that Albert began to feel the steady march of time weighing on them. He and Tiffany rushed to catch up. He trusted Ratface to survive right up until the opportunity to do something dangerous reared its head.

  “I thought all the entrances were well guarded,” he said.

  “A smuggling entrance. Not all of the Lady’s favoured belong to the knights. At least they didn’t in my time.”

  She marched passed the many magic sights towards one of the main entrances to the inner city, then quickly turned left down a side alley. Within it was the most normal door he’d seen in the city so far. Its hinges were on the outside.

  He drew his spear and swept it behind him as he turned around. He felt the faintest moment of resistance followed by a curse.

  A guard flickered into place, a slight cut in his armour. He was holding a baton rather than a sword which was good for them, it meant they hadn’t switched to killing yet. Albert used his own magic to cover the edge of his spear with wind to blunt it. When he’d learnt this trick it had been to make his spear sharper.

  Another guard appeared as he was whipped by a vine. Tiffany stood in the middle of the alley with her cloak writhing with plants, they were already digging into the pavement to give her a better place to fight from. She’d done the same training as him with illusions but learnt a different lesson. It was very difficult to trick someone connected to the world about what was around them. Kryssa was next to her waiting for the inevitable next attack. When it came, she caught the man and threw him past Albert.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Abigail slammed her sword into the ground and the illusion teared apart in a wave of blue.

  Instead of an alley, they found themselves before one of the main gates. Ah, the illusion had been going for a while, they’d tricked them into assaulting a main spot.

  Guards stood in a row behind them blocking the exit, The Lady’s Champion, Lily, stood on top of the gate. She had three guards around and her wand was levelled at Abigail. She didn’t bother with talking and instead fired magic at the old woman. Abigail caught it on her armour and redirected it into the sky. There was a soft ‘fwump’ when it exploded, and the air still ruffled them. So that’s why she hadn’t just blocked it.

  Abigail glowed blue for a moment and launched forward at the Champion. The woman took a step back to avoid the strike that was coming but Abigail hadn’t been aiming for her. With he flat of her blade she swept the three guards off the wall.

  One of them chanted something as they fell and instead of there being a crack when they fell it was a dull thud. They scrabbled up looking frazzled instead of injured.

  The two women on the gate quickly devolved into a duel of magic and swords that he struggled to follow so he didn’t try. Instead, he used the time to rush over and join Kryssa and Tiffany.

  Tiffany was creating them an impromptu defence of vines to stop the guards from dogpiling them. She’d be on area denial, and they’d be on actually taking out the guards. They all looked older than Albert, which you would think meant his rule meant they were better fighters than him.

  He didn’t think so. Most of these guards were in their twenties of thirties, he’d been taught to fight since he could walk. In terms of experience, he should eek in front of them.

  His father’s words whispered to him of what to do when being outnumbered.

  “You don’t want to give them time to organise. Goad them into acting stupid. Most people with numbers tend to rely on those numbers rather than strength to win.”

  Now how to goad them?

  “Which one of you made the illusion he called out?”

  “That would be me,” said one guard. He was wearing lighter robes than the rest of them.

  “It was shoddy work. Do you know that you’re bad or is your main illusion thinking you’re competent?”

  The mains face coloured and the guards around him chuckled. That was one person angry, now to get the rest. He cast his gaze across them, and he copied one of Ratface’s insufferably smug smirks. She had so many it was difficult to choose.

  “The rest of you fight about as good as he casts.”

  The grins cut out. He had a brief moment to wonder if his parents would have been proud of him using their teachings. It tore up his gut and it was almost a relief with the first of the guards tried to bull rush him. Albert stepped forward to get in range early and slapped his spear onto their wrist. There was a faint crack, and they dropped their baton. He pulled his spear back and shoved it into their chest. The armour caught it. The stab didn’t hurt the man, but it did push him back slowing the next guard slowing them down.

  Albert stepped back into formation with his small group. Kryssa had beaten one of the guards and was now using his baton to beat the next one.

  There was a sharp whistle from the back of the guards and an alarm rung out across the city. The illusionist cast a giant arrow in the sky pointing to where they were. Alber took the opportunity to goad him again.

  “Your spells lopsided,” he called out. His comment was followed by a cry of frustration.

  The guards kept rushing him and he did his best to keep them at bay in a series of brutal spear attacks. Tiffany’s vines stopped them from being able to form a solid circle and Kryssa kept literally throwing guards away.

  It was working. For now. The rest of hid father’s advice called out to him.

  “Once you’ve beaten enough of them, you need to run. Eventually numbers always win out.”

  Running wasn’t in the card for him unfortunately. He drew a knife and thew it into someone’s leg. They stumbled and hit the ground.

  Time to see if how long they could last. He only hoped it was enough.