V7: Chapter 13

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Interlude: Ilych

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When I was a young girl, a nightmare engulfed me.

I saw a world covered in flesh, with rivers filled with blood, and a sky filled with flame. Horned monsters looked upon herds of people like cattle, as they slit their own throats and threw themselves into the maws of growing gods.

Horror.

Then, the next night, another nightmare came.

This time the world was composed of metal, of great grinding gears with saw-like teeth, through which people by the thousands were pushed through. Blood, bone, muscle, and all were ground down into nothing and burned. All mortal races died by the hands of living metal shards who composed great ships to pierce the heavens themselves.

Every night since that first nightmare, I saw only horror.

Skies filled with poison rain that flooded the earth, monsters born from unholy unions born to kill one another for the right to live, and mortal races turned into game animals for winged beasts with the faces of people and their pets.

Horrors that I could not share without fear of being deemed insane.

I saw the world covered in water with only mountain ranges as refuges for mortal races. From the depths of the seas, monsters came as gods expecting tribute from those who lived upon land. They supped upon the brains of children, and drank the blood of young women, while culling the old and using their carcasses as nests for children that would be born… and destroy the tribe entire before wading back into the waters where their parents waited.

They were beyond the mountains, beyond protections left behind by our ancestors, and they ruled the world entire. Crippled and broken, a fraction of their might when they broke the world apart, they still remained dominant. Our lands were divided, filled with warlords, and the greatest nation wished for no rival nation to rise to fight against them.

Soon, those protections will fail, and we will be consumed by the rest of the world and our conquerors will rule over it all.

As a child, I realized that all was lost and I despaired.

Shrouded in that despair, I followed the paths laid out for me, which my ‘instincts’ told me to follow. My dreams, the faint impressions in my mind, and sensations within me all coalesced into a single path.

Do as my father bid and grow strong.

Learn how to read, how to analyze, and how to understand.

Gain insight into others, become someone who can lead, and gather information.

Step by step, I followed a singular path forward with a singular hope: that in time I may survive and create some sort of haven for those who were not monsters.

Then, suddenly, he arrived.

…

I waited as war was waged around me, conserving my strength, waiting for the singular moment that all my senses told me would come.

All around me were allies and foes.

Fifty strides in front of me there is a young man covered in armor and wielding a pike. His breathing is hard. This morning, he lied to his officers of his readiness. He favored his left leg and right arm. The stab wounds inflicted on him yesterday still plagued him. However, his training and his allies will see him through. Those by his side realized this already. They are brothers born of shared suffering and of shared victories. If he falls, he will be dragged back and saved, and until then all will be well.

One hundred and fifty lengths behind me, was the constant din of rifles loading and unloading. Their guns were a constant staccato filling the air and their shots broke apart the enemy and prevented them from massing. Every time they fired; they expended three days of tax revenue generated by a small town. Without the ability of the Citadels to produce the chemical agents for the explosives within each bullet, the cost would be four days of tax revenue from a whole region. Within five months, the first factory capable of producing smokeless powder will be fully constructed. Those who work there will have a life expectancy ten years shorter than those working in any other field. Their sacrifice will free up significant space in the Citadels manufacturing centers for all four regions.

Mages were three hundred lengths from my position. They are a rising noble class carefully watched by Khanrow and other agents. Time and time again throughout Descendant history, those with magical gifts form a political bloc which in time will resent not being in rule and become the heart of a rebellion. Approximately fifteen mages will be moved to other postings, five will meet ‘accidental’ deaths, and three will be judged loyal enough to act as informants. Their respect of the King of Wisdom will persist through this generation. Their children, raised by our state and trained in our schools, will be truly loyal, and he will be worshipped.

My foes are Undead.

The masses of skeletons wielding makeshift weapons are mindless constructs without reason or will. They are weapons meant to fill the field with chaff. Breaking enough of their body will make them come apart and become undone. Shattering ten percent of their total bone mass is sufficient to kill them. One shot from a rifle, or a thrust from a spear, destroys one. There are tens of thousands, and any other force in the continent would already have lost against them alone. No other nation has the manpower necessary, the supplies needed, or the correct tactics.

The skeletons are supplemented by animated corpses, ghouls, and undead giants. Many of the corpses are those of animals. They are swift and with poisoned bites and claws. Armor is sufficient to counter them and they are dealt with swiftly. Ghouls cause the highest of wounds. They regenerate and threaten to break lines. Sharpshooters instructed to find and kill them have greatly lowered their lethality. Mages kill the giants and take out massed formations.

My forces can last two days before fatigue causes causalities.

Three days before routing with hundred dead and thousands injured.

He will make us retreat within one day, if progress is not as expected, to conserve strength for battles years in the future.

Progress is as expected.

My target is before me.

The creation of the Death Lord is a creature composed of more than ten thousand corpses. Born from a pit where thousands were melted down, their souls used as fuel, and necromancy was used on the still living to warp and mutate flesh. Any semblance of humanity died in the pit, as so many beings were tortured and broken apart, meshed, and turned into base instincts for the body composed of dead that they were to inhabit. Its purpose is to cause suffering, to raise the dead as endless armies, and to kill all that the Death Lord bid it to kill.

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It does so under the promise that its suffering will end, if it does its duty.

It is a massive creature nearly thirty adult Descendants tall. Rather than a humanoid form, it is closer to a snail with the upper torso for a giant humanoid being at the prow. Its main body is a massive mound of writhing flesh and bone held together by immense ribs forming a cage. The main body pulsates and beats like a heart, straining against its cage of bone, and it gathers power within itself. I can feel it harnessing and channeling magic like a great vortex. Over three quarters of its mass is dedicated towards containing that power within that mass.

Its main weapon, its main ability, is to create vast armies of undead.

The giant humanoid torso stuck to its front is a secondary means of protection.

Therefore, attacking it would be foolish.

Whatever it had as a brain in the massive skull that it showed, whatever heart it had, was just to attract attention.

The most protected part of it was what it used to store energy and cast magics, therefore somewhere in all that mass must also be its true weak spots.

Hidden behind lengths and lengths of bone and reinforced muscle, rather protruding in an ungainly manner from the front.

Familiar footsteps drew me from my thoughts.

“Ilych. Finished with the plan? Or do you need more time?” Conquest spoke. Leader of a commando unit, she has grown in strength with all the battles she has fought since her people were integrated with ours. Tribal bands now adorn her wrists and ankles. She will be able to project her magics from her limbs with ease, now. On her back is a large rifle of Ancient construction, two knives are at her waist the size of small swords for Descendants, and a one-handed hangs off her hip as well. She notices my analysis and lowers her head in a small nod. She has acknowledged my strength. “My soldiers are ready to strike.”

I nodded and measured the distance from our point and the approaching titan.

Then, I shook my head.

“A half hour more. I can’t afford you to reach it exhausted. Too high of a risk.” Conquest frowned at my words. I am insufficient as a leader. He would’ve been able to convince her to stay back with just a few words. She would have nodded and assented without complaint. I needed to be more like him here and now. What is causing their dissatisfaction? The answer came in but a few heartbeats as my mind connected points together and created a framework for an answer. “Tell them that they can provide fire support against the enemy, but to keep their legs fresh and satchels ready. Their melee weapons, too.”

Conquest’s frown faded at my words, and she nodded.

“Right, let’s put those cannons to use. They won’t be much help after our charge anyway. Have you found where we’ll be concentrating our fire?”

I nodded and verified.

The attacks from the front. Though it is a secondary weapon, the protruding torso from the front of the true threat remained strong. It will sweep at us with its massive limbs and disrupt our formation. Too many will be lost in the charge. Despite its slow movement, it can rotate in place speedily, so that it’s ‘front’ can be angled to engage the from one direction. The best course of action is to attack as a pincer, with a sufficiently distracting force engaging the secondary weapons, while another attacks from the opposite angle.

There are many things that can go wrong.

Conquest and her people could die charging forth under my command.

I could fail, then the creature can focus on Conquest and her commandos.

The creature can ignore us and head for our center line and kill our troops.

Even if we kill it, the troops we lose will weaken us for the battles to come.

There was only one option.

“I will confront it head on. Conquest, you focus on destroying its main body, the shell.” I listened to my senses. My instincts were screaming at me. My mind filled with scenarios and visions and phantom pains reverberated through my whole body. I felt the creature taking hold of me and crushing my limbs, before slamming me into the ground. I felt it harness its power and blast me apart with pure power. I felt it swing at me, catch me, and send me hurtling into the sky to crash far into the horizon to slowly bleed out and die. In but a moment, I died eighteen times, until found that singular path where I stood victorious. “Keep your distance, and strike when the opportunity arises.”

“Aye, Sword of Wisdom, we will heed your words.”

I willed my helm to envelope me, before launching myself forward into the fray towards the great beast.

…

It was a tenth faster than my senses suggested, twice as frenzied when under attack, and with the intellect of an intelligent prey animal rather than a predator.

Meaning the fight was more difficult than expected.

The moment I arrived, a roar echoed through the air and it drew its thralls towards itself and me. The army, turning its back on our own, was rapidly being destroyed because of its action. However, my forces will not pursue. I ordered them not to, even if the enemy did such a thing. The were needed for other battles.

It valued its life and not that of its creations.

Every swing of its long limbs, smashed apart hundreds of its Undead forces, which themselves cared not for their creator destroying them. Packs of Undead animals hounded me, while skeletons and corpses tried to grab me or cut through my armor, while undead giants and ghouls tried to kill me.

Every step I took.

If I leapt, I will be unable to dodge in the air. I must stay low and find a gap between my foes.

Every place I chose to move towards.

If I go to that clearing, I will be confronted by a giant. I must not let that happen.

Every swing of my sword.

If I attack and kill the enemy in front of me, I will be slowed and surrounded, then struck down.

Every thought that I had.

If I only evade, the monster will notice the others. I must also find a way to attack.

Everything had to be measured, weighed, and carefully chosen.

The abominable creature swung its limbs like a long rod across the battlefield and flung its creatures in every direction. The shrapnel produced was nothing to me, but enough flying mass could mess with my movements. When it brought up both its arms and slammed them into the ground, it cracked the ground, and sent earth flying in every direction. It robbed me of my vision by doing so. The sound of earth following and the swings of arms muffled my hearing. It was directing its creatures with its sight, high above the battlefield, and they swarmed my last location that it saw no matter the condition of the battlefield.

It was sacrificing its army.

It was doing everything it can to survive.

It was aiming to kill me.

But it wasn’t running, because it knew we could catch it, so it stayed and fought and tried to kill me.

That meant that this remained a battle we could win.

I ran, I was chased, and I fought.

My sword swung, killing dozens of chaff or bisecting a giant, while I fled deeper into the masses of enemies. The training given to the army at my back came into play. They remained in place, but the ranged attackers came forward to support. Officers kept their mission in mind, while staying within the boundaries of the orders they were given, and the swarm surrounding me faded. As their attacks continued to hit, the abomination kept swinging and killing its troops, as I ran through its army and attacked it when I could.

Soon, two dozen Undead turned into ten, then five, and then just a few sparsely impeded me.

My enemies no longer surrounded me.

So many paths to my death were gone.

I could now do more than just survive.

I empowered myself, and charged straight at the enemy, and plunged my sword where the protruding humanoid torso was latched to the true body of the beast. It felt like plunging my sword into a boulder, but with my strength and the blade’s power after feasting on so much blood, I pierced through the creature… and swung my blade.

Instantly, after the cut cracked the supporting section, the abomination steadied itself by gripping the ground with one of its limbs… and the other surged towards me.

It would reach me before I recovered my swing.

So, I leapt up and landed on its wrist, before swinging once more at the portion of the beast connecting the two halves together.

It is not a weakness.

The prow of the creature is a frontal weapon and a distraction. The true threat is the portion that is well armored and capable of casting magic. The true mind of the creature is there as well, along with any other important portions.

I am playing into its hand, seeking to strike down the false portion of it, and giving it the opening to counterattack.

My second cut landed the humanoid portion was forced to support itself with both its limbs, to prevent it from falling forward.

Like a man awaiting execution, it bared its nape for a strike, bowed whilst holding itself up with both hands.

I foresaw this moment. My instincts warned me of this moment. Pain from a dozen deaths told me that if leapt upward and aimed to cut off the skull, I would die.

But the skull needed to be cut, for the shell to open.

For Conquest and her people to be able to throw their explosives within the opened shell and kill it.

Thankfully, I asked Rita to show me how to attack from afar many times over, and the skull needed only to be cut off for the shell to open.

I landed on the ground, took firm hold of my blade, and aimed at the neck of the creature, while filling my body with power. I went past my limits. I felt my bones creak and crack, my muscles tear, and my heart screamed with pain as I forced it to push. Something in my head threatened to break, and I could feel blood burst from my nose and my vision blurred with the tint of red.

However, I didn’t die, and I gathered what power I needed.

I threw my blade upward, like a spinning disc of black steel it arced through the air and cut through the neck of the creature and removed its head.

The shell, then, immediately began to open to try and cast magics to kill all its immediate vicinity and make them its new thralls.

I focused on healing myself, as I heard Conquest’s war cry, and knew that they would do their duty.

The battle was over, and I would rest until the next.