“I signed up for a cult! Not to sweep the floor!” the black-robed, red-headed woman threw the broom to the ground. She turned and kicked a nearby wooden chair. It flew across and shattered against the stone wall of the courtyard. A few wandering undead turned at the sound, but otherwise didn’t react.

Another broom-wielding cultist, an older man, shrugged and said, “Meh, it’s not that bad, newbie. Gotta start somewhere. Besides, someone’s got to clean up the place. Otherwise, the undead just shed everywhere, stinking the place up.” A nearby zombie tripped and fell, leaving behind a dried piece of rotted flesh as if to punctuate the man’s words. It stood back up and walked off as if nothing had happened. The black-robed man sighed and swept the mess into a nearby pile.

A younger man with slit eyes leaned on his broom, resting his chin on the hand, and grinned ear to ear, “Old Hos, to hear the way the uppers talk, you’ve been sweeping up after the undead since most of um were still fresh.”

‘Old Hos’ smirked and pointed a thumb deeper into the courtyard. “Aye, but it’s better sweeping up after the corpse than ending up like that lot.” The group peered deeper into the courtyard, where a group of cultists surrounded a bloody ritual circle. Five men were chained to the ground in its center, surrounding a pile of bleach-white bones.

The younger male cultist grimaced and asked, “Oooof, Bonetaker? What’d they do to deserve that?”

The red-headed woman sneered and shook her head. “From what I heard, they let the interlopers escape. Had um locked nice and tight, and still slipped through their fingers. Ridiculous. Heard their squad leader got dusted by the lady when they told her, too,” she answered him.

The younger cultist looked at her, his eyes wide. “Seriously? I honestly can’t tell which is worse. Remind me never to apply for management. Grunt life for me!”

Old Hos shook his head, “It’s a waste, is what it is. I’ve worked under half a dozen cult leaders, and not a one of um knows a damn thing about proper workforce management. It’s all ‘fear me!’ this or ‘conquer the world!’ that. Bah!”

The younger cultist pointed toward the circle. “Looks like they’re starting”.

The bloody ritual circle deeper in the courtyard glowed an ominous red. It started as a faint light but intensified in pulsing waves as the surrounding cultists chanted their dark verses. As the light grew brighter, the screams of the chained men grew louder.

After several minutes, the light, chanting, and screams all reached a crescendo, and the bodies of the chained men burst from within, spraying blood over the circle. From the bloody remains, pristine white bones rose into the air, untouched by the blood or gore. Slowly, they floated to the circle’s center and added themselves to the pile.

A man in an ornate robe walked forward, holding a dark orb as the cultists continued to chant. He stopped at the circle’s edge, careful not to cross over the line, and held out the orb. Both the orb and the pile of bones pulsed together like a single heart beating. Dark smoke poured from the orb, and it soon filled the circle until only the red light of the ritual lines could be seen glowing within, though the smoke never spilled from the boundary line.

The orb then softly floated away from the man toward the bone pile. It hovered over the pile for a brief moment before dropping inside. The chanting ceased, and all was still. Then, suddenly, the bone pile began to rattle and shake, slowly rising into the air. As it did, it took on a humanoid shape, though with a far broader chest and longer limbs. Its 5-meter-tall figure was heavily armored with various bone plates, and its long arms ended in vicious claws.

The newborn Bonetaker spread its arms wide and roared, sending shockwaves through the air. It stepped out of the ritual circle and bowed to the ornately dressed cultist. The man smiled and turned around. The Bonetaker stood and silently followed, with the remaining cultists filling in behind it.

As the group passed Old Hos and the younger cultists, the slit-eyed young man whistled and muttered to himself, “Man, that thing’s a beast. Literally. Can’t wait to get one of those myself.”

The red-headed woman huffed and whispered. “Bruiser types like that are a joke. Sure, they pack a punch, but they’re stupid as all hell and barely have any mobility.”

Despite being some distance away, the ornate-robed cultist stopped, then slowly turned and stared at the young woman, his eyes narrowing. The woman froze, a cold sweat dripping down her back. Slowly, the man approached, the massive Bonetaker following close behind.

He stopped a few feet from the woman and frowned at her. “Would you mind repeating that, neophyte?” he asked.

“Th-that, I mean, I-well…” she stuttered.

Old Hos stepped forward, smiling as he bowed. “She didn’t mean anything by it, Lord Riaser. You know how the youngins can be. They read a few books and think they know how things are. Please, don’t concern yourself with such petty things.”

‘Lord Riaser’ turned and frowned at Old Hos. After a long moment, the ornately robed man humphed and turned away. Old Hos let out a sigh of relief.

“Murh mirh hrmrih muhum.”

Lord Riaser snapped back around, his eyes red and glowing. “What was that?!”

The young female cultist took several steps back, her eyes wide and hands raised. “I-it wasn’t me! I swear!” she said, her voice rising higher with each word.

Lord Riaser spoke through gritted teeth, “Do you think I’m a fool, girl?! I was going to dismiss you for Mr. Hos’ sake, but it seems the younger generation needs a lesson on why they shouldn’t mock their betters.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Murmruhr Hurhrhrhrhrhrrhrhrh,”

There it was again, louder. Though this time, Lord Riaser could see, indeed, the girl hadn’t spoken. He frowned and tilted his head.

“Hey! I think it’s coming from the wall!” the slit-eyed young man said, his ear pressed up against the nearby wall. Lord Riaser’s frown deepened, and he walked closer to the walk, pressing his ear up against it.

(“Now? How about now? Can I do it now?”)

(“No. I said wait. You’re like an overeager puppy.”)

Lord Riaser grinned, then pulled away from the wall. “It looks like we have some rats in the walls. Interesting,” he said, waving forward the Bonetaker.

The surrounding cultists murmured among themselves while Old Hos grabbed the collars of his fellow sweepers and dragged the two farther away. “Hey! I wanna see the show!” the slit-eyes young man complained.

The Bonetaker rolled its shoulders and raised one of its massive, clawed hands, preparing to punch through the stone wall. One of the nearby cultists whispered to the other, “You think it’s the Temple Inquisition? Or hired Adventurers? I haven’t caught up on the latest betting pool odds.”

The cultist he was addressing rolled her eyes and slapped his chest. “You Idiot, why would it be the Inquisition? We already killed everyone in the temple. It’s not like one of the other temples would send templars this quick.”

No sooner had the words left her lips that the stone wall exploded in a shower of debris… toward the courtyard. A massive, three-horned metal beetle erupted from the stone wall, slamming into Bonetaker.

“NO ONE EXPECTS THE INQUISITION!” it yelled.

Lord Riaser stared wide-eyed, only to be flattened by the beetle’s massive limb the next moment. The Bonetaker roared and tried to swing, but the awkward angle and lack of footing caused the blow to glance off the metal horns, dealing no damage to the other creature.

The Bonetaker wasn’t so lucky. At the same moment, the beetle’s two smaller horns pulled back and struck the Bonetaker’s bony armor one after the other.

Thunk! Thunk!

The Bonetaker screeched as the metal horns slammed into its chest, sending spiderweb cracks throughout its armor. While the Bonetaker reeled, the beetle’s larger central horn pulled back with a hiss. The Bonetaker tried to dodge what came next but was too slow. Faster than the mortal eye could see, it shot forward with a sonic boom, slamming into the creature’s weakened armor.

Crack!

With the sound of shattering bone, the Bonetaker’s chestplate broke into a thousand pieces, and the massive bone construct was sent soaring through the air. It hit the ground a dozen meters away and rolled several times before slamming into the opposite wall.

The cultists stood in shock at what they’d just witnessed, but soon fell into panic as the metal beetle pulled itself free from the wall, and dozens of armored humans poured from the opening. A stone-faced woman stood atop the beetle and frowned down at it. “Alpha, I told you to wait. I haven’t finished checking the area yet,” she said.

“I regret nothing!” was the creature’s only response.

As the Guardians filed into the courtyard and the cultists either fled or were cut down, Old Hos pulled the young red-headed woman and slit-eyed man into a nearby room, out of sight, before closing and baring the door.

As the three paused to catch their breath, the red-headed woman sneered and said, “See? What did I tell you? No mobility.”

— — — — — — — — —

The trip through the secret passageway had been uneventful. It was little more than a wide hallway designed to let as many people through at once as possible. Occasionally, there would be a few side rooms, presumably leading to other bunker areas or rest stops. The Guardians had scouted these passages as they passed, but had found little of interest in them. These pathways hadn’t been used in decades, maybe centuries. At least not since Artemis was born.

Had her mother known about these passageways? She had to have. How else would she have had the key? Why had she never spoken of them then? Or about the Prima bud in the wall? Or about any number of things that were only now coming to light? Artemis had loved her mother, and even if she’d not been a warrior, Metis was a woman who had commanded respect from everyone she met.

Not just because she was the High Priestess of the Earth Prima Temple, but because she was the kind of woman you could trust with your life. The kind of person who you never had to question their motives or what they were trying to get out of you. Artemis had learned long ago that people like her mother were rare in this cold world.

So, learning that same person had been hiding so much from her own daughter…

It had been… unnerving.

Nonetheless, Artemis pushed those concerns down for the time being. There would be time later for questioning all she thought she knew. She’d pry the answers out of even the Prima herself if she had to.

But not now. For now, she had a job to do and cultists to kill. Maybe in the course of things, some of those answers would come on their own.

When they reached the end of the tunnel, they came across another massive staircase leading up. Instead of leading to a trapdoor like the last, this one opened into a large, walled-off room with no visible entrance. Once everyone had exited the staircase, the Prima addressed the group. “This is the staging area for the temple’s entrance. It’s situated just outside the primary complex and heavily charmed. The systems have degraded somewhat from neglect, but not even a mid-step [Earthly Transcendent] could spot this place. That means we have some time to prepare and plan.”

Alpha looked around and asked a similar question to what Artemis was thinking. “Isn’t it kind of a security risk to have such a hidden location so close to your HQ? I mean, what’s stopping someone from doing exactly what we’re doing now?”

Jīshí sighed. “Originally, this place was supposed to be constantly monitored. There are various arrays and sigils throughout the tunnels and on both ends that would trigger defenses if anyone unauthorized tried to force their way in. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately for us at least, the damage to the city’s systems has also affected those arrays,” she answered.

“I don’t know… still seems like a terrible idea to me…” the strange creature responded.

Artemis still wasn’t quite sure what to make of this Alpha, or ‘Lord Protector’ as the Slatewalker humans referred to him. She’d never seen or heard of any spirit beast quite like him, and unlike the vast majority of Radiant Sea natives, she’d explored the world outside the prairies for quite some time.

Even if the Grassreader’s theory is correct, and the creature was a Progenitor, records said you could typically at least guess at their Origin. But Alpha seemed like a total mystery to everyone but the Prima, and she was being tight-lipped about the matter. Whatever the case, one thing was for certain.

They were powerful.

Maybe more than Artemis could truly understand. Just the Spirit waves they were passively giving off boggled her mind. The sheer ease with which the creature had dealt with the undead and elementals on their way to the library had frightened her a bit, if she was honest. The Prima seemed to trust him, but part of Artemis wondered if even everyone gathered here could stop Alpha if he decided to turn on them.

A more…excitable part of her wanted to try, regardless.

That, too, she would have to put down for another time.

As the others gathered and discussed their plan, Artemis’ mind wandered toward a faint but familiar spiritual signature.

She gripped the handle of her weapon a little tighter Hold on just a little longer, Athena… we’re coming for you.