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A Sorcerers Throne
Chapter 3: Undead King

Chapter 3: Undead King

The staff towering before all in attendance. Its crimson radiance pierces the very fabric of life and death. The light spewed forth from its stone, awakening the long dead from their eternal slumber. Its power breathes new life into dead and rotting flesh, animating them to serve its master's will.

Coffins rumble and their casings crack. The denizens of the afterlife sprang from the vale as animated, decaying corpses. These undead creatures twisted and turned in their coffins, finally smashing through solid concrete. The undead began pouring out of their resting place. Soon the staff's light dimmed and suddenly the throne room was filled with undead soldiers. They left the confines of their destroyed coffins and formed an orderly line before their king. The large group of undead knights, all clad in steel plate armour from head to toe, wielding enchanted broadswords and shields.

Orpheus stares with mild worry, inspecting the sheer numbers under the command of this undead. Peering at the decaying faces of the undead, he calculates his sole strategy. "Well, these numbers are a bit of a problem, who knew he wielded such power to command a legion of undead? There looks to be two dozen of them. All clad in armour and what looks like enchanted weapons." The legion readies their weapons, standing shoulder to shoulder so they may guard their master. They await the moment to begin their first attack on his command.

Orpheus pauses for a moment, contemplating the most effective method. "First there is the mana issue, I don't have much left but luckily for me, I've brought some mana potions. Thank whatever deity that lords over alchemy. Probably Wuther." Invoking the name of a God, he reaches for his bag. Pulling out a small potion containing a blue liquid. Removing the cork, he chugs its contents.

Finishing the beverage, the euphoria returns as does his magic in a revitalising wave. "This is definitely habit forming... Now to the task at hand, I must diminish their numbers and go straight for their master. Crushing his skull beneath heel and the rest will drop like flies." Completing his strategy, he smiles at the thought of defeating overwhelming odds.

The undead king reacts to the smile and makes ready his forces. "I see you have completed your pitiful preparations; now die like the insolent whelp you are." He shouts with an arrogant tone, belittling his enemy, in preparation for victory. "Now my knights, advance and destroy the invader." The undead legion began their advance at a marching pace. Moaning a loud battle cry to signal the attack.

Orpheus raises his right hand in response. "Ignis." He chants and a fireball manifests. Raising up his left hand, he waves it across from right to left. "Multa." His hand traverses and seven additional fireballs manifest, one after the other. They are arrayed from right to left occupying the space in front of him. "Scopum Inimicus." Completing his chant, ethereal crosshairs appear in front of each fireball. Rapidly moving their centres to aim at different soldiers. Targeting many of them for long-range attacks.

The undead king narrows his sunken eyes. "What is that magic, I have not seen it before, what does it do?" Expressing confusion and curiosity, he glares at what his enemy has conjured.

Orpheus looks back, speaking with a confident tone. "Haven't seen it before huh... Welcome to the modern era of magic, old timer." Finishing his statement, he leans into another chant. "Contendo." The fireballs launch in unison, each directed towards a different soldier. Flying through the air, ready to make an impact. The undead soldiers raise their shields against the volley."Contego Multa." Conical barriers appear in front of each fireball. A piercing shield protecting riders, galloping through the enemy.

The undead king flashed a confused expression towards this sudden turn of events. The point of the barriers pierced through the shields like a knife through butter. They fracture at a central point shattering as they make their way towards the torso.

Orpheus concentrates, raising his hand towards his volley. He chants the very words that will seal their fate. "Evanescent." The barriers disappear in an instant as the fire propels from behind. Landing on each soldier and combusting on impact. When the smoke clears, the front line is laid to waste. The area is composed of charred corpses littering the front.

The undead king is taken aback, in awe of the destruction. "No, my knights!" He shouted in the wake of his knight's return to the afterlife. He then proclaims to his men, additional orders. "Cease your advance, shields up, I will deal with this impudent cur myself."

Raising his staff in anger, his knights cease their marching and raise their shields. He looks towards Orpheus with a wild rage. He aims the staff in his direction before chanting "Veni Forth Elementum Fulgur." Several lightning bolts sprung forth from the staff stationing themselves before him. "Adtono." Finishing his chant, all the lightning bolts burst from their suspension.

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Propelling towards Orpheus, it attains incredible speed, befitting a lightning strike. "Here we go." Orpheus remarks before gripping his hands, bracing for impact. Multiple lighting spells, barrelling towards him, instead of fear, he simply chanted. "Subcinctus Egomet." He chants under his breath just before the lightning reaches him. The impact produced an explosion right where he was standing.

The undead king smiles at the destruction he wrought upon his enemy. Smoke clouds the position but only for a short time. Then as the dust settles, the smoke clears and all that remains are the scorch marks.

Visibly distraught at the sight, there should be some remains of his enemy. He looks around the room trying to make sense of things. Suddenly a sharp pain is felt in his back and stomach. He grunts at the painful sensation, coughing up blood. He looks down to see the end of a blade piercing through. With horror he peers back to see his for, handling a sword, plunged deep into his back.

With a mocking smile, he grips his blade menacingly. "Didn't see that coming, did you?" Withdrawing the sword with a single thrust. Blood spews forth from the wound and he collapses to his knees, horrified at this turn of events. "Imperium Corpus." Casting a restraining spell, he then reaches for the staff pulling it from his captives' frozen hands. Satisfied with his victory, he turns to the remaining undead. "Let's see what this can do... Say goodbye to your toys." Aiming the staff at his foes, ready to enact his magic.

The undead legion turns to see their kneeling master. "Ignis Augeo Contendo." A large fireball manifests from the glowing staff. Propelling itself through the air, incinerating all that it touches. Barrelling through his enemies, rendering them to ash and smoke. "Wow, that is a lot more powerful than I thought." He remarks, smiling at the destructive power, he now wields.

He turns to see the still kneeling king, under the influence of his spell. Kneeling in front of his own throne, with his hands grappling the ground, desperately trying to get up. Orpheus walks past him, seating himself upon his throne with the staff in hand. "I could get used to this." He comments only to himself. Glimpsing at the potential glory and prestige a throne could provide.

The undead king, hunched over and in pain, glares hatefully. "So, what are you waiting for, strike me down you self-righteous hero, destroy me and my ambition once and for all!" The kneeling king shouts in utter contempt, accepting his defeat at the hands of a true hero.

Orpheus frowns at the shouting undead. "Plan huh, what plan would that be I wonder." Seated upon the throne, Orpheus muses on what nonsense, he may be spouting.

The undead king snorts derisively, before continuing. "I wish to gather my strength after my last defeat at the hands of another hero, like yourself. Raise an army of undead, purge this world one life at a time and reclaim my kingdom!" Rising against the spell he proclaims his desires to all in attendance.

Letting a smile cross his face, he chuckled as if thoroughly amused. "Well, first thing's first your plan is utter crap and completely unoriginal. I really thought you would be a powerful ruler of death. I'm utterly disappointed, you're just another upstart playing the king."

The undead king turns in rage before retorting angrily. "Are you mocking me!" The fury in his words was evident, as he glared daggers.

Orpheus ascends, leaving the throne to walk past him. "Of course, I am, isn't it obvious? Your evil plan is crap. You don't have the right to wield this staff. No true ambition, unlike myself." The kneeling king looks visibly shocked. "What I'm planning puts your little undead army to shame. My plan will shake the world at its very foundation." Orpheus leans down to his face and declares firmly. "I will bring an evil into this world the likes they have never seen. Kingdoms will rise and fall by my design; they will kneel at my power or burn like the rest. While I'll be filling the pages of history books, you will be a footnote." Ending his speech with a devilish smile, mocking the apparent immortal being before him.

The king is visibly disturbed and even more confused, speaking once more. "I thought you were a hero sent to slay me." His eyes widen to such a degree, Orpheus thought life was returning to them.

Shifting his gaze upwards, he cracks his neck. Eventually returning to look down with a cold gaze. "Who said I was a hero?" He queried, neither expecting an answer nor awaiting a reply. Raising his newly acquired staff, aiming at the kneeling king. "Now if it's any consolation, you are contributing to a superior plan. Thanks for the staff and take comfort, as your rotten flesh is consumed by fire and rendered to ash. “Ignis Augeo Adtono." The kneeling king sees nothing but a blinding light approaching him. In the end, he is engulfed in fire flaying his flesh right off the bone and leaving nothing but ash.

"Now something else is needed and the real fun can begin." Orpheus remarks with a devilish smile, alluding to only the start of events to come.

Orpheus exits the tomb, staff in hand, having triumphed in his mission to obtain the powerful weapon. Casting his gaze to the horizon, he smiles at the glorious sight. He compares the illustrious view to the darkness of the tomb. Walking off into the distance, his cloak flowing back, draping across the ground as the wind whisks it up into the air. Leaving the tomb, he disappears into the dense forest.