Chapter 32
When people think of cults, they usually, almost inevitably, think of some sort of mass Kool-Aid induced event. It was just how things went throughout history. James had read plenty about different cults, and either they ended in lots of murder, suicide, or in some cases, death by law enforcement, when the cult would have a stand off with various government organizations. Of course, during his lifetime, he couldn’t remember hearing about any notable cults. At least, not ones in the real world. Because if they existed in immersion, which they did, no one really cared, since, well, it was immersion.
All of that aside, the one thing that generally didn’t happen with cults, because it was well, impossible, was mass revival situations. Obviously, that was a big part of the cult mindset. Serve the leader, make the sacrifice, and then bam, your soul is on a spaceship behind some comet. Whoever made the Demonic Lamb, which James figured had been Steve, had decided that was exactly what should happen.
Not the spaceship part… but the mass revival part.
When the Demonic Lamb’s health flashed red, it sent out a massive pulse of light before its health greyed out. And then, to everyone’s surprise, rising from the ground like some sort of old school zombie horror film, came all of the sacrificial lambs on the floor. All of them. All 150 of them.
Well, James couldn’t be certain about the exact number. But it definitely seemed that way. The ground shook and rumbled, and strange moans, that seemed like the bleating of a punctured bagpipe, filled the floor. Thematically, the creatures that were raising out of the ground were, for all intents and purposes, demonic…zombified sheep. They still had the blackish red wool, and horns, but they oozed blood and pus, and their bodies seemed to be in various states of decay. Their movements, a small blessing, also seemed staggered and uncertain.
However, there were clear signs that what was happening, was going to be a problem. The health on the Demonic Lamb resumed the normal color, implying we could damage it again, but at the same time, another timer appeared near its name. This one, was counting up, instead of down. Meaning while it had a limited amount of time left on the floor, something, for some reason, was counting upwards now. What the max was, what it meant, James had no idea.
He glanced around, reapplying his buffs and stacks on Ifrit, considering they could once again resume their DPS of the Demonic Lamb, while glancing frantically around. Everyone had taken note of the new zombified sheep, but there was little they could do right now. The Demonic Lamb, with its swirling blood that stacked debuffs, and it’s unknown nature in general, was something they had to deal with first and foremost. A fact that James didn’t like.
Moans and bleats continued as the sounds of battle raged on the floor. With every second, a little more of the Demonic Lamb’s health sapped away, while it fought, with its daggers, its blood tendrils, and random flashes of what appeared to be black, crimson tinged lightning. Ifrit’s health wasn’t a concern. Nor was Hornz or Badgy’s, but James saw Oak’s health rapidly dropping, only to jump back up almost as quickly, as the two healers focused their efforts on keeping him alive.
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More moans, more bleating. James glanced at their surroundings. The zombified sheep, slow moving as they were, were drawing nearer. They’d been lucky, somehow, in the fact none had sprung up directly around them. However, just as he had that thought, the timer above the Demonic Lamb, the one that was counting upwards, hit ten seconds. It flashed, the creature at about 30 percent of its health, and another pulse of power ripped out from it.
The creature floated a little higher into the air, as it eyes glowed brightly. And then, from the ground, black tendrils grasped hold of everyone. Players, and mobs that weren’t zombified sacrificial lambs alike. The tendrils pulsed, and James noticed a snared debuff appear. The healers were already working on cleansing it, but that was only going to help them. The bigger problem, he realized… was what he saw happening all around them.
Demonic farm animals struggled, fruitlessly, against the tendrils. They were, after all, summoned by a special, level 85 boss. The poor level 50 mobs couldn’t free themselves. Hell, James was pretty sure he heard Old Man Jenkins screaming about the tendrils as well. And as the struggled, the tendrils pulsed with dark power. And the demonic, zombified sheep, drew towards those pulses like moths to a flame.
The Demonic Lamb’s time on the floor was limited by its mechanics. But apparently, even as it neared death, it was going to ensure its cult grew… James new full well the dangers of zombified creatures. Everyone in the instance knew full well how dangerous they were. They’d used zombies, in fact, as a way to turn the tide of a battle during the first ever Siege War, where he’d faced off against BLANK. Before, of course, they were friends. Back when Xander was still in control and had tried to manipulate his children into removing James from the game.
A pang of sadness for Xander, or maybe for BLANK over the loss of their father, hit him, but it was washed away a moment later. This wasn’t the time. Right now, they had a new threat to worry about, on top of the Demonic Lamb. Because there was no way James, or the others, were going to let the Demonic Farm become overrun by zombies. Not when they still had the boss, and special boss, to contend with.
“As much as I’m enjoying the very Evil Dead vibe,” Z was calling out as James turned his focus back to the Demonic Lamb. It was still floating higher and higher, it’s cloven hooves now roughly five feet off the ground. Badgy’s short three foot frame was having a hard time reaching him now. “I’m pretty sure we don’t want to let this thing keep unleashing those pulses.”
He had a point. The timer was still counting upwards. Now at fifteen seconds. Meanwhile, it still had a good forty seconds to go before it unsummoned. So much was happening, in such a short amount of time. Had it’s timer stopped counting down when it’s health had greyed out? Or was there a way it was extending its time on the floor? James really hadn’t been paying as much attention to the creature as he should be. There was too much happening all around them. It was pure chaos.
“Well I don’t think we can kill it any faster,” Elm called as he released another shot into the Demonic Lamb. “It’s not like we aren’t trying to kill it as fast as possible.”
“I’ve used all my mass single target damage spells,” Faust added, “and I’m pretty sure my DPS numbers are the highest in the party right now.”
“Only because it doesn’t count my summons,” Z countered with a laugh. He unleashed another set of shots into the Demonic Lamb. The creature’s timer hit 20, and James felt everyone in the area instinctively wince. On cue, another pulse, another wave of energy.
Tendrils didn’t appear this time. At least… not from the ground.