Chapter 186

Gurth’Rok jogged at a fast pace, his green skin sweating from the exertion he’d put out in getting here with the rest of the legion behind him - but he was far from too tired to fight. The sounds of war drums beat into the night sky where clashing fleets continued to battle it out over elevated slabs of land stacked on top of one another for each city level. The clank of heavily armored death knights or heavy orc berserkers, many hundreds strong, led the way with dark-arts assault mages, necromancers, archers, sharpshooters, and swarms of more mindless undead minions on either side of the column. Further back and catching up quickly were two regimens of tanks and heavy assault mechs - humanoid in form but very thick, each standing as tall as the bone giants that took up the rear of the undead columns. Behind the tanks came another column of support mages, system engineers, mana hackers and a large group of cyborg elites that’d been utilized as a strike force against the elves not long ago.

And that was just the beginning. More forces were pouring in from the north, including two more undead legions, another three armored divisions from Chicago’s side of the portal, a fleet of modified apache helicopters numbering well over 150, more of Dawn’s own armies withdrawing from the front lines against Tereen, and swarms of ratkin from Deepnest. However these forces were going to be dispersed over the course of hours, and Mandon held over a million civilians over the area of its 10 city levels with the majority of them being completely non-combat related. Already it’d been reported that complete slaughters were taking place, and it was unknown just how many of the civilians their forces could save even if they should win this battle.

Then there was the fleet to the south, with Allie and Riven heading at breakneck speed to this location. Gurth’Rok wanted to do them proud before they arrived, and he bared his vampiric fangs in a grin as he clutched his cobra staff and rushed headlong towards the first level, the ground level, of Dawn’s capital.

Even here, only a few hundred yards away, Gurth’Rok could see them fighting. Dozens of red-eyed vampires with various pistols, sabers, hand cannons, flamethrowers, mechanical gadgets that produced various qualities of force fields, and numerous flesh-machine hybrid abominations of various sorts. Some were hounds, others were large flesh golems with iron spikes and steel skulls, ripping apart any human who got close.

Here on the city’s edge as civilians screamed, ran and scattered - many of them heading towards the oncoming forces of the Necropolis in an attempt to gain sanctuary, attempting to outpace their pursuers while their city burned behind them in various places.

Gurth’Rok gave the first signal with a wave of his cobra staff, illuminating it with blood magic to send off a flare as his heartbeat picked up in excitement. The forces behind him began to spread out, swarms of mindless skeletons and ghouls racing left and right while the death knights - fully kitted in heavy dark-gray plate mail - began to pulse with unholy power. Their towershields lifted in unison, and their longswordswere unsheathed.

A warhorn blew out from where the battalion of enemy vampires were wreaking havoc amongst the civilians at the edge of the city, and quickly the vampires began to gather upon seeing the forces of the necropolis approach from down blood-stained cobblestone roads.

“GET IN LINE AND WAIT FOR MY COMMAND!” One of the vampiric captains, also wearing a top-hat, screamed at his men. Top-hats seemed to be a status symbol amongst these black-coated, red-eyed, pale looking people. “SMIDGES TO THE FRONT AND SIDES!”

Civilians were quickly disregarded as the vampires stopped giving chase, forming lines and raising their pistols, rifles and hand cannons to take aim - some of them ignoring the commanding officer and firing at the oncoming horde early as more and more of the vampires gathered. They took care not to hit their own units while dozens and then hundreds of barking split-faced hounds, along with mecha-flesh golems, began taking a frontline stance.

“SHIELD WALL!” Gurth’Rok called out, backing behind the frontmost line of heavily armored foot soldiers while they sprinted ahead. The shields linked together, fused with stamina energies and abilities each of these warriors now possessed after training in the yards together over past months. The towershields reinforced one another holding a long line of seemingly impenetrable metal with barriers of death energies roiling in front of the charging row. Metal boots thundered on the ground, and supporting caster mages in the very back flung up additional buffs to aid their passage forward.

The rumbling of the undead swarm turned into a roar, muffling the enemy vampire captain’s command as the first volley was unleashed into the necropolis forces just as Gurth’Rok’s second signal bloomed in a red burst overhead.

The mad rush of their cannon fodder charged to the right and left of the death knight column, a wave of mindless carnage sprinting headlong into bullets, bombs, and various blood magics that’d been infused into different thrown gadgets.

Bullets and blood or death energies also crashed into the line of death knights and orc berserkers, most of them bouncing off harmlessly against the reinforced shield wall and the barriers of death mana immediately ahead of them - but a few of the repeatedly hit frontliners went down. One man’s helmet exploded right next to Gurth’Rok when a torpedo of some kind was launched over the horde of skeletons and ghouls - crashing into the eye socket of the orc berserker with a squelch of brain matter. A skeletal skresh death knight hissed in rage at his friend’s untimely demise, and he roared - pulsing with mana and anger that was quickly joined by the others.

The Rippenvire frontline charged, red hounds and golems crashing into the cannon fodder swarm to defend the vampires at their backs - just as the final flare went up from Gurth’Rok’s staff.

Dozens of infernal suns each the size of a car bloomed behind them, created by numerous assault mages working together in conjunction with one another before they ripped forward into the vampiric ranks with explosions of melting, searing heat. The vampires retaliated with barriers and exchange fire of their own, but well over two hundred of them were left as piles of ash or charred corpses while dozens more continued to scream and writhe - flaming on the ground.

Gurth’Rok roared over the din of battle, pointing down the middle of the fight where the two swarms of cannon-fodder had left an opening. “RUSH THEM NOW!”

In conjunction the tower shields flared, and as one - the front line of death knights utilized ‘Shield Charge’. Flares of deathly energies roiled when the martial art activated, and they blurred ahead - clearing the distance and smashing into the poorly organized enemy ranks like a steam roller.

*BOOM*

The vampiric captain screamed as his lower body was torn off of him when an assault mech, standing twenty feet tall with huge steel metal plates tore into him with a 9-foot plasma blade extending out of a metal forearm. The blue sword shimmered and hissed when the vampire’s blood hit the searing energy, the pilot cackled in delight through speakers on its side - and then the mech lifted a huge mechanical foot to smash down onto the disbelieving captain who’d been completely caught off guard from the side.

The vampire’s skull crunched, and the death knights tore through the Rippenvire golems and hounds like a scythe through wheat; their bloodthirsty rage pulling them forward to where the backline vampires continued taking pot shots. More mechs raced ahead in a pincer attack, thundering with each step or using thrusters from their backs to jump or even fly briefly - landing amidst dozens of enemies and tearing them down in a brutal display of carnage.

Tanks barreled through a defensive blockade to the right, speeding further into the city as dozens of them cleared a path while booming out explosive shots and machine gun fire - their objective being the closest stairwell leading to the second floor.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Gurth’Rok’s own blood magic continued to heal those around him, making sure the injured front liners were ok before turning his attention to occasional blasts of simmering red orbs that tore into some of the hounds that tried to run. “This… this is what we have been waiting for!!! COME ON BOYS! WE HAVE SOME OUTLANDERS TO KILL!”

The orcs, undead, and human forces alike roared as one and continued to beat back the enemy - routing this particular section of Rippenvire forces and claiming the edge of Mandon’s ground level for the necropolis.

***

Peskus cursed internally, watching in silence as he began to sweat along the pale skin of his palms - still clutching his large saber and trying to calm his nerves.

Why had the Slayfather chosen HIM to lead the spearheading charge into the city’s lower levels? Why couldn’t he have just stayed topside on the 7th where they had support of the fleet?

The greater vampire, along with the many dozens of other vampiric heirs and paladins of their order, shuddered in fear as the creature continued to approach.

The massive figure moved through the mists like a reaper of death, no doubt a demon - but unlike any that Peskus had seen or even heard of before. It was some kind of unique variant that somehow accessed Fae and Unholy pillars simultaneously, and his identifiers had told him it was some sort of archdemon - but what would an archdemon be doing here in an integrating world? What kind of summoner had been able to even BOND to an archdemon so early?

Was this some kind of sick joke?

The monster screeched out an ominous giggle, causing Peskus to flinch involuntarily while her huge frame cast shadows from inside clouds of mist and ice. The monster’s huge, sleek, pointed legs crunched onto the mountain of corpses underneath her, the elemental frosted mists obscuring most of her body while radiating out of the many crystalline flowers along her skin that occasionally glinted through the foggy backdrop, and four brilliant red eyes locked onto him from a shroud of white and gray.

The head of General Brimblood, a vampire almost on equal terms with Peskus himself, was flung from the mists and bounced once, twice and three times to roll to a stop in front of his feet.

Peskus blinked twice, going pale even for one of his own race, and red magic flared along the polished wooden pistol he carried. He looked up again, examining her as best he could through the shimmering cloud surrounding her.

“Sir…” One of the paladins warily asked in a low whisper, eyes flitting back and forth as eerie figures darted back and forth in the mists surrounding the enormous, shrouded monster staring them down. “I believe a retreat is in order… If General Brimblood is dead, that means…”

“That means this abomination wiped out all eight strike groups under his command.” Peskus finished the sentence for him, looking around at the mutilated bodies of his kin that painted the surrounding road, buildings, and landscape with their entrails. “Fuck. What are the odds…”

His voice cut off and he abruptly stiffened - yanking his empowered pistol and activating ‘Red March’ with a blast of energy. Encasing his body with blood magic that shimmered and flickered in the mists that continued to surround their 90 or so elites.

Just in time to empower himself enough to dodge a quickly moving lance of ice.

*WHIP*

*BOOM*

Dozens of ice pillars tore through the mists to violently impale numerous vampires at once. Crackling thunderbolts tore out from different directions, not just from where the demon was standing, and nearly twenty of the vampires died outright in an instant from the sheer force of the brutal attack.

Instantly the vampires returned fire with their own weapons, launching blood-pillar infused projectiles and various magics, with five of their paladins exploding forward with mecha-based movement martial arts.

The monster giggled and laughed, letting the attacks hit her one by one without so much as moving - many of the projectiles outright being rebuffed by the icy mists surrounding her. Others bounced off her silky, graceful skin like pebbles slamming into a concrete wall, and when the five paladins made it to her - the scythe-like arachnid limbs blurred so fast that none of them could react in time.

*CRUNCH*

*SNAP*

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!” The cry of the last paladin quickly snuffed out when another arachnid limb skewered his skull.

And then the creature was gone.

Peskus frantically looked around, not even recognizing the creature had left until it was already completely obscured due to the absolute shock of having lost so many of their elites in such a short amount of time. Other vampires under his command sent out radiating waves of death mana, hoping to disperse the mists around them, but they were rebuffed effortlessly even despite combining spells to stack onto one another.

“GODS DAMN YOU!” Peskus roared, empowering his pistol and firing off explosive rounds that decimated buildings one by one - but every time the blood magic would explode to disperse the mist, the icy fog would merely float right back to where it’d been seconds later - filling in the gap and leaving them blinded again.

Then a man was yanked out of their formation, screaming in horror before he too was cut off with an ear-splitting squelch.

A giggle came in from the opposite side where another vampiric officer, a woman with a long ponytail, was yanked by her hair into the mists and gutted ruthlessly to the pained screams echoing out where she’d been taken.

The vampires panicked, utilizing different methods, magics, gadgets, bombs defensive wards, enchanted talismans, or martial art abilities to blast everything around them. They didn’t know what they were hitting if they were doing anything at all, and above the building ruckus - the feminine giggle of the archdemon continued to rise like a gleeful child.

Chittering sounds began whispering through the mists next despite the bombardment, and in the periphery - just outside of the range of their attacks, a set of four blue eyes snapped open. Peskus centered his attention on this set of eyes, quickly snapping his pistol up and firing - hearing a squelch and a screech of pain. His heart lurched in excitement when he realized he’d hit something, only to see another set of four blue eyes settle to his left.

He fired again, but this time the eyes disappeared back into the mist and three more sets of four eyes appeared on his right.

The chittering grew in volume, still whispering all around him until the whispers overlapped one on the other into a torrent of ill-fitting sounds not meant for this world. The remaining vampires all backed up to cluster around one another, forming a tight defensive circle as more and more of these blue eyes glared out at them from the mists - bodies obscured through the haze of frost.

Then the single set of red eyes appeared, far larger and higher up than the smaller, more numerous sets of blue. The monster appeared before them now, stepping out of the fog to put her entire body on display.

She was truly beautiful, but utterly terrifying, as the vertical crystalline maw along her front crunched down onto one of Peskus’s men - casually eating him while she slowly walked forward. Her upper half was humanoid, her lower half was that of a giant spider, and crystalline flowers that’d been producing the mists cut off making the fog - letting some of it disperse to reveal their surroundings at a limited extent.

As the fog began to very slowly move away, the figures behind the blue eyes were revealed next. Dozens, then hundreds, and then thousands of dog-sized, crystalline spiders chittered eagerly and hissed in the direction of the vampires. They screeched in anticipation, an ocean of them all around as Peskus’s heart dropped in horror.

There were so many.

The enormous archdemon clicked her tongue, letting out an amused hum while keeping her nose arrogantly up - intentionally looking down on the smaller vampires from her large height. “I do believe I’ve stomped babies sturdier than you… Do you have any last words, meatlings?”

A man beside Peskus screamed in rage and charged - only to be blasted with a crackle of lightning so powerful that it didn’t even leave a single remnant of his mecha suit intact. His body exploded in a shower of flesh and metal, creating a crater in the place he’d been only a second before.

“We can come to terms!” Peskus tried, his voice catching in his throat as the hissing spiders began to advance all around him. “Please! Whatever you’re doing here, we can offer you or your master recompense! We can strike a deal!”

It was a far fetched gamble, and one that did not pay off.

And Athela only hummed in amusement. “I’m afraid… not.”

With a snap of her fingers, the horde of crystalline spiders roared forward like a tidal wave onto the small island of remaining vampiric elites - cutting down their people to the screams, wails, and futile last efforts to fight back as barriers and abilities were broken down.

Standing over the vampires her children were eating alive, Athela tisked and turned her attention to one of the nearby massive stairways leading up to the next city level. She could sense someone or something very powerful approaching her, something… not familiar. A vampire, certainly, she could tell that much by the aura it gave off, but it wasn’t Riven or Allie either.

Smiling to herself and wondering whether or not this one would finally be a match, one that could push her new body to the limits to see what she could truly do with it, her large arachnid limbs carried her forward.

It was time to meet a true champion of these puny, pathetic creatures. It was time to show them just what a spider princess could truly do.