“You are dismissed.” Isadora set her hand on the shoulder of the channeling priestess. “Leave your post.”

“Who will take my position?” She responded with a strained voice. Her hands trembled in their raised position to keep the barrier active.

“No one.”

“High priestess?”

“Do not worry child.” Isadora lifted her hands up to her acolyte’s and brought them down. “All will be well.”

The priestess exhaled, opened her mouth to say something, then fainted.

“I got it.” Illias leaned over, scooped her body up, and carried her away into the temple.

“Just the three of us?” Damien glanced at Isadora, then me. “I like our odds.”

The southern portion of the light barrier fizzled, leaving the entire back-face of the temple exposed. Ashes trickled down from the dissipation, littering the sand with a black line. Behnam and the two Immortals with him grinned, then charged, but Isadora thrust both her hands forward in a double-palm-strike motion. A shockwave of light burst forth at them, sending them flying backwards into the approaching army.

“Neat.” The dwarf grinned.

The Persian forces had begun closing in on their siege, but the soldiers to the left and right of us, and probably those behind us as well, marched towards the opening that we three defended.

Behman and his kin landed right in front of the Assyrian contingent, and all the men stopped moving to look at them.

“What are you doing?” One of the Immortals rose to his feet, took one of the soldier’s iron-studded clubs, and swung it at his head, knocking the brass helmet right off and crushing his skull. Blood spurted upwards, and the droplets fell to the sand with the body.

The Assyrians chanted, then resumed their charge at us

“All available priestesses to the southern face of the temple!” Isadora roared.

As our adversaries closed in on their mark, a dozen priestesses charged out from the temple with ankhs in hand. Six positioned themselves on either of our flanks and shot out a beam of light from their weapons in unison. Steaming holes were left in the chests of the first three rows of charging Assyrians as they collapsed, but more came. 

“Archers in the back!” I pointed behind the enemy. “We need to deal with‒”

An arrow whizzed past my head and I turned around to see Illias wielding a bow of pure light.

“What the‒” I stared at the weapon. “How are your hands not burning?”

“The priestesses crafted it for me just before charging out.” He pointed at the quiver of arrows strapped to his back, also made of pure light. “It refills itself.”

“That’s pretty cool.” I smiled.

Illias smiled back, then caught himself. “Help me take down the Scythians and Indians with your spears.”

“Apollo guide me.” He notched three arrows, then shot all of them at once. I followed their trajectory as each of the three hit their marks.

“Athenian archers.” I mumbled. “They’d give Spartans a run for their money.”

I javelined my spears over the melee soldiers, and started weaving them through as many archers as I could before having to call them back and throw again. All the while, Illias fired more arrows and the priestesses, along with Isadora, cried out with each blast of light, bringing down chunks of the army at a time.

A guttural chant resounded to our left as a contingent of Ethiopians came to reinforce the fallen Assyrians. Their leopard and lion skins were tightly fastened around their body, and their spears, the points of which were horns of an antelope, were all drawn and directed at us.

“Now would be a good time for a power-up, Theo.” Damien yelled over the battlecries as he shot from his own mini-cane bow.

“Would if I could!” I yelled back. “I don’t really know how to access it!”

“I do!” He grunted. “Get mad!”

A volley of arrows came down on us and Isadora noticed just in time. She tossed her arms in the air, creating a sheet of light above us, and the arrows burned upon contact. She then immediately resumed firing at the front line of Ethiopians, that is, until the next volley of arrows came, forcing her to perform the same defensive move.

Another guttural chant echoed, different from that of the Ethiopians, and this time from our right. A contingent of Thracians, clad in tunics, colorful cloaks, calf-high buskins and fox-skin hats had joined the charge wielding javelins. 

“We have a problem.” Illias pointed up. 

The barrier around the temple started flickering.

“They are funneling us in to nullify our numbers advantage!” Behnam howled. “Batter down the western side!”

A majority of the Thracians to our right that had started rotating to our position stopped, and instead resumed their posts, leaving behind only those that had already joined the Assyrian front. They positioned themselves all along the barrier and began stabbing away.

“Why aren’t their weapons burning up?” I caught my spears on their return and threw them again.

“The priestesses holding it up are too weak to add the offensive layer.” Isadora exhaled through her nose. “All they can manage is the defensive aspect of the spell.”

The temple barrier flickered again, this time more vigorously. 

“We’re running out of time!” She groaned with frustration. “I need the western face to be reinforced before they get through the barrier!”

Four of the priestesses with us nodded at their leader, then left the formation to aid their sister.

“Damien!” I called out. “Join up with them, and try to wake Atemu up if you can too.”

“On it.” He slung his bow over his shoulder then darted inside the temple.

The barrier guarding the western side fizzled, creating the same ash-line in the sand at its base. The first wave of Thracians that charged in were greeted with holy blasts, but more advanced, stepping over the dead bodies of their brethren.

And then another battlecry echoed all around us, but this one was feminine.

“What now?!” I groaned. “When did the Persian army start drafting women?”

“They didn’t.” Isadora pointed at Behnam with a nod, indicating his scrunched eyebrows and tense stance. “He’s just as confused as us.”

The battlecry echoed again, and as it grew in power, a group of women on horseback barreled over the southern dune bordering the valley. They wore skin tight, dark yellow scale armor, and wielded hooked swords. They charged straight at the Persian army, endeavoring to pinch the enemy between us and themselves.

“The Daughters of Serqet have come to our aid!” Isadora cheered. “Stay strong until they flank the Persian dogs, sisters!”

The priestesses responded with their own cheer and renewed vigor, sending more blasts of light into the horde of adversaries.

“What are they even doing here?” My eyes followed the massive sand trail being left behind by the oncoming horses.

“Beats me.” She grinned. “But we might as well utilize their presence to our advantage.”

“I’m not trying to kill the mood of triumph here.” I lowered my voice. “But that may still not be enough.”

“Well.” The high priestess glanced at me, her eyes bright with holy magic. “I guess you’d better start lighting up your hands and spears with corruption then.”