A horde of monsters was the worst, with so many defenseless people in the group. It would be a massacre. Karl had a flashback to Emma's death...good God, it was only yesterday.

It felt like an age.

“Doug, keep the group moving, we can't let them swarm us!” Karl stepped aside and waved the group onward. He looked back and forth, between his party now hurrying as best they could, which wasn't very, and the distant house surrounded by the swarm. He was desperately torn. Cold logic told him to leave the people in the house and try to come back for them. I have to do something. He could almost feel the System pressuring him to abandon the trapped people.

No. I can't walk away. Terry and I can try to save them. The rest go on. Hopefully six combat effectives, and the size of the party, will be enough to deter the spawns.

“Karl!” Jo had broken out of formation, Tabitha at her heels. The rest of the group, unused to each other, hesitated and slowed.

“Go!” Karl hissed, and stared at Chenelle, who nodded and with Doug and Michael helping got the rest of the group moving again. Then he focused on the two before him. “What?”

“We've got this,” Jo declared. “Stay with the group. They need you.” Tabitha nodded.

“Jo, those are a swarm.”

“We've fought them before. They're called gremlins. Karl, we can do this. Let us pay you back for taking us in. We'll get them out and catch up once the swarm is dead.”

Karl looked at the swarm. What she said sounded impossible. “How?”

“Fire,” Tabitha said.

“We've got a plan. Now go. Keep them moving.” Jo sheathed her sword, and drew an axe from her belt. “You have to be well away from here before we start.” She jogged off towards a wild stand of pines by the side of the road.

“Thus it is written,” Tabitha said soberly. She turned and followed. Jo was already attacking a short dead pine with the axe. By the time Karl turned back to the main group, she had already cut it down and started dragging it to the driveway.

Part of leadership is sending people to die. Only fools would want this job. The System was probably working to toughen him to do this too. What other stains will I have on my soul from all this? With a heavy heart, Karl jogged back to the head of the group.

“We'll have to stay quiet for half a mile or so. We can't draw the wrong attention.” The group trudged on down Oak Hill Road. Karl forced himself to focus on his part of their surroundings.

“Karl!” He jumped as Terry shimmered into view next to him without preamble. “What the hell are Jo and Tabitha doing?”

“They said they had a plan.”

“Well I had a plan too! I was going to draw off the horde and get them to chase me, so you could get those survivors out of that house.”

“That's a horrible plan.”

“It's a great plan! What's that?” They cut off their argument for a few seconds and both stared at motion in the trees for a moment. Terry relaxed. “Squirrel.” A moment later she snorted laughter.

“What's so funny?”

“I guess you never saw that movie. You'd like it.” She shook her head, sobering up. “I'm going to go back to check on them.”

“Agreed but not yet. Give them five more minutes to set up whatever they're going to do.”

“Set up? Well, at least their plan is more than just saying 'fire' and running at them like a crazy person.”

“I get the feeling that they are more than the sum of their parts.”

They walked forward. About twenty seconds later, Terry said, “It's been about five minutes.”

“No, Terry.” He glared at her. “Wait.” He could swear that she started to shimmer before his eyes and then stopped. Did I just stop her stealth by staring at her?

“Fine.” Terry looked away, pouting. It was all Karl could do not to laugh. Terry was so serious and competent, so aware of the harsh realities of this new System world, that he always found it startling and funny when she acted like a kid. It kept feeling as if the System were crushing Karl, the dark nightmare weighing him down, and then Terry would do something that lifted his mood. He was glad she was around. He hated that he had to send her away, over and over, but it was the nature of her skills.

“You know how you can keep yourself occupied in the meantime.”

“Look for people easier to rescue?” She sighed. “On it.”

Karl looked over the group. Jake had taken over pulling the wagon from Sarah, and secured it to his bike. Chenelle was quietly interviewing the parents, explaining some basics of the System, and a little bit of the story of the group. The newcomers didn't really understand the danger, Karl could tell. They hadn't fought. They weren't particularly worried about two of their defenders going off and rescuing some others. He almost envied them their naivete. I guess there is a real difference between veterans and everyone else.

For just a moment, Karl wondered what Jane would have made of him now. Would she be proud? Disturbed by his cold decisions? Laughing her head off? Probably all three.

Terry reappeared. “Karl! There's a sign that reads 'SOS' in a window on that house ahead on the right.”

Karl turned to look at it coming up. “Opposition?”

“Looks like maybe eight goblins and a couple of hobgoblins.”

Easy enough, Karl thought, then considered how to divide his forces. “What do you think?”

“You, me and Michael. The rest stay here on crowd control.” Three combat effectives in each group. Three defenders for six fairly helpless people. Karl looked around.

“There's an open area ahead. Does that look good for parking the...new people?” Did I almost just say 'civilians'? Karl, get a grip. You're no military man.

“Should be safer than average,” Terry agreed after a look. “Park 'em first, then we three go?”

“Sounds good.” Karl explained the plan to the others, and after they were stopped in a good place with long sight lines, he set out with Michael and Terry back to the house holding survivors.

The fight was quick. Terry made sure none of the green monsters got away. Inside the house there were several more goblins, quickly dispatched.

“Ding ding ding!” Terry sang out in the hallway, doing an impromptu little victory dance that looked like a cheerleader routine as done by a world class dancer. Karl didn't bother to hide his laughter.

“I take it you leveled?”

“Oh yeah, Terry Williams, sixth level rogue, takes the lead! Thank you, thank you!”

“Congratulations, your young Ladyship.”

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice called, muffled by a door.

“Hi, it's safe, you can come out now!” Terry called, still exuberant.

“Just a second!”

They could hear furniture being shoved away from the door and other noises. Terry had a listening look on her face, then grinned and shouted, “In your dreams, Chad!” The other room fell completely silent, or so it seemed to Karl. Not so to Terry. “I can still hear you, you know!”

Another pause, then sounds resumed, and the door finally opened bit by bit with a few separate hard shoves. One burly young man stuck his head out. “Hi! One sec!” His head withdrew, and this time, even Karl could hear him mutter, “Chad, cool your fucking jets, she is total jailbait.”

“Well how'm I supposed to tell that?” came back muffled.

“Will you shut up? You're embarrassing me in front of our rescuers. Get your shit so we can go.” The first speaker re-emerged. “Excuse us. My name's Paul. My little brother Chad and our bud George will be joining us as soon as they find their asses. Thank you for rescuing us. What's the situation?”

Karl appreciated him being quick on the uptake. “We need to regroup as soon as possible. We're headed back to our Safe Zone on Walnut Street. You're welcome to join us. We've been gathering food and survivors.”

“Hell yeah, a Safe Zone sounds awesome. We'll definitely come.” Another guy squeezed out. “This is my brother Chad.”

“Do you know how inventory works?” Karl asked Paul. “You need to load up.”

“Oh yeah. I'm a second level mage, Chad's a first level warrior, George is a second level something sneaky.”

“Scout. Say 'scout', damn it.” The third man emerged, almost as big as the two brothers. “Hi.”

“If two of you are second level, how'd you get trapped?” Michael asked.

“You need to ask? What I want to know is, how the hell did you beat the big one?” George demanded.

They all looked at each other for several seconds.

“Oh, shit,” Chad whispered.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Michael spun to face down the hall back the way they came, drew his bow and nocked an arrow. Karl hefted his shield and drew his sword, taking his place beside him. Terry got in front of Karl, squeezed against the wall and crouched. Karl kept his eyes away from her for a few seconds, and called back,

“All right, what are we facing?”

Paul recited quickly, “Almost too big for this hallway, green, fists like pile drivers, fights with a big axe in the open and two knives almost big enough to be swords in close quarters like this. Also, he glows green sometimes and heals up.”

“Four steps forward,” Karl muttered, and he and Michael suited actions to words, keeping the hallway blocked. Terry was nowhere to be seen. “We'll fight in this hallway since it cramps his style.”

“Chad, get in the front line, let Legolas shoot over you.”

“I'm first level!”

“First levels in the back,” Karl ordered.

“Fine, I'll do it,” George said.

“Don't worry about it, I'm fourth,” Michael growled in a whisper.

“So where the hell is it?” Chad wondered. “Did it leave?”

“If we can get past that next door, I've got guns in the basement,” Paul offered.

“Four steps forward,” Karl said again, and they advanced. “Four steps forward.” They moved past the door.

Chad immediately walked up and stopped before a closed door. A sports trophy materialized in one upraised hand while he opened the door with the other. “It's black as shit down there.”

Karl growled and yanked the headlamp off of his head and held it out behind him. “Do NOT lose this.” He felt it tugged away.

“Thank you, Mister,” Paul said. “Chad, move.” There were sounds of multiple pairs of feet descending the stairs.

Then the ceiling above them creaked, long and loud. There you are. Very quietly, Karl whispered, “Where are the stairs up?” There was no answer. Shit. “I guess we wait here then.” The ceiling creaked again, and then they could hear heavy footfalls, slow but picking up speed.

“Move up more?”

“No, I want the space behind his back confined too.”

“Oh. Right. Good thinking.”

Karl nodded, but he was angry with himself.

Let's split the party, I said. We'll get more done, I said. You guard the Safe Zone. You go after a swarm. You wait in the middle of the street with only three guards. We'll go into this house, and then we'll split up into three or four places inside the house! When will I learn?

“Here we go,” Michael murmured as a green bulk came into view. He let fly and drew first blood. A bloodcurdling roar was the response, and the shape grew much larger as it approached very quickly. Michael got off a second shot but not a third. Karl's sword was batted aside and the bull rush of the monster slammed them both backwards.

Karl hit it with a shield bash and might as well have been punching a truck. He brought his sword back low and stabbed it in the shin, not doing much damage but getting its attention. Michael needed the moment to vanish his bow and draw his own sword.

Then it became a slugfest. Karl's life was saved again and again by his shield. He constantly hit the beast any way he could to keep its attention on him. Shield bash, stab, kick, punch--all that mattered to Karl was that he keep those deadly blades off of his ally by hitting the spawn as often as possible, not giving it a second to think about anything but the endlessly annoying paladin in front of it.

Critical Strike. Damage X2.

Karl did his best to drive the blade deeper into the monster's knee. The spawn responded with a single punch which really was like a pile driver aimed at his shield which knocked Karl back a few more feet. Michael was stabbing as fast as he could now, orcish knife in his left hand and hobgoblin short sword in his right, trying to give the beast the death of a thousand cuts.

Then the Hobgoblin War Chief (according to the System) glowed green, and many of those cuts disappeared.

Damn it! Karl braced for the next attack and tried to think of what else he could be doing. They had been driven back past the entrance to the basement, with the spawn swinging at them with huge knives. Karl wasn't sure whether to lure it farther in or try to push forward. Not that he seemed to have a lot of say in the matter. He found he really missed having the pile of weapons to choose between at the drop of a hat. He would have loved to drop a rock on this thing's foot, for example.

On that thought, Karl almost slid forward and slammed his booted foot down on the creature's bare toe, then kicked it in the knee. Neither seemed terribly effective but he managed to annoy the thing some more. Michael was looking battered, but without people to switch, he couldn't really spare the moment to cast healing hands. He made the time anyway, boosted Michael, but failed to dodge a strike and felt something give in his left shoulder amid a blinding stab of pain. Healing hands barely lessened it.

I can't use my shield arm, he realized, then thought of his next crazy move. He stepped back for a bare moment, leaving the war chief to Michael, and let the shield fall off of his arm. Catching it in his right hand, he slung it over his back. Then he charged forward and grappled the the war chief.

He slammed them chest to chest and gripped the monster's left arm, making it almost impossible to use it until Karl was dislodged. The chief moved to stab Karl, but the shield got in the way; if anything it firmed up Karl's grip.

What the hell, Karl thought and attempted to bite the war chief on the arm.

Ugh.

Karl spit noisily. Now I have to win this fight. I refuse to die with that taste in my mouth.

BOOM!

Karl felt fresh pain in his left leg as he was nearly deafened.

BOOM!

The brothers were shooting up the basement stairs, he realized. The war chief's attention was drawn to the stairwell, but Karl was still clinging to it, and the chief started shaking its left arm vigorously, trying to rattle him loose. Following his overall combat philosophy of 'whatever you're doing, I'm messing it up,' Karl clung on for dear life and tried another healing hands on himself.

Guys, you could feel free to shoot this thing some more any time now, Karl thought, and then realized that they probably couldn't. He should probably count it as lucky that they got two shots, with the way complex weapons eroded. The creature didn't know that, but Karl's distraction was keeping it from charging down into the basement and killing the brothers.

Abruptly the chief threw its head back and howled in agony, attempting to reach behind it with its right hand. Karl dropped to the floor and stabbed as hard as he could. A moment later the war chief twitched again, stilled, and then slowly toppled forward, revealing both Terry and George riding it down with four daggers embedded in its back. Karl managed to drag Michael back out of the way of the fall one handed, casting healing hands on him twice while doing so.

“Eat two extra points of strength, asshole!” Terry yelled at the corpse, panting.

“You guys okay?”

She wheezed a moment. “Sorry...we're late. Had to...kill the healers.” She turned to George, who was looking fairly bloody but was grinning. “Not too shabby for second level. Did you crit?” Too out of breath himself to answer, George simply nodded, then held up three fingers. “Nice.”

Terry turned and looked at Karl, then lost her smile. With a blur, she vanished down the hall, abruptly stumbling into view when she got to the open area, and staggered over to a corpse, and grabbed a staff. At barely more than a walk, even though she was trying to hurry, Terry came back up the hall. Halfway there, she threw the staff. “Michael, heal him!”

“Wait,” Karl said. “Put things back where they belong first.” Something still felt very wrong with his left shoulder, and healing hands didn't seem to help.

The brothers Paul and Chad emerged from the basement holding rifles. Michael called out, “You two! Help me get him onto his stomach, carefully!” Karl tried to help, but everything hurt so much he couldn't even think. He was vaguely aware of being put onto his stomach, then his shield being lifted off of him, and the pain from that made everything go white.

**

Karl came to still facing the same boring piece of floor, so it couldn't have been very long. It took a minute to sort out the voices around him. There were a few he didn't recognize...oh yes he did. The boys they had come to rescue, and Chenelle...Chenelle? What is she doing in here?

“I'm in here, you stupid old man, because you almost lost your left arm entirely, and we couldn't move you until you were out of danger for that! We don't know if reattachment works with healing magic, and I wasn't about to find out with you! Now are you awake, or are you just babbling stupid things right now? It can be hard to tell the difference!”

What's she so mad about?

“Karl, stop babbling and stand up so I can slap you. SLOWLY!”

“I've been talking out loud, haven't I?” Karl realized.

“Congratulations, I think your intelligence just went up to two.”

Karl blinked a few more times and felt his brain re-engage somewhat.

“Okay. Okay I think I'm awake now.” He was standing in the hallway in the brothers' house. He wasn't completely sure how he'd gotten to his feet but he wasn't going to question it.

“Good. Then heal yourself if you can, I'm out.”

Karl frowned. It took him a couple of tries to find the will to do so. For a moment he didn't feel he deserved to be healed. Then he realized that that was stupid. Or foolish. One of those. People needed him. Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed. He cast healing hands on himself, then groaned loudly and looked around.

“Chenelle!” He blurted in alarm. “If you're here, who's--”

“Michael and all three of those men you rescued. Now shut up and walk.”

Karl put one foot on the war chief and thought, loot. Something appeared in his hand; Karl didn't pay it any attention. Then with difficulty he climbed over the body. He almost tried to put the corpse into inventory just to get it out of the way, but realized that he didn't have room.

“My things--”

“Got 'em, old man. Keep moving,” Terry urged.

Karl felt as if blood was starting to run through him again. “Thank you, Chenelle.”

“You can thank me by never getting that close to dying again!”

I didn't look at my health once during that entire fight, he realized.

They emerged into late afternoon sun. Karl moved slowly, feeling his sixty-eight years more than he had in...two and a half days? I think I'm aging three years per day. This is like dog years or something.

“I think maybe I'm hungry. Or thirsty.”

“Here.” Terry tried to shove a packet of crackers into his hand. To do so she ended up taking whatever he had looted out of his hand and sticking it in her pocket. “I'm not surprised, considering how much of your body's mass is back on that floor.”

Karl ate absently as they walked up the driveway back to the street. Still a bit turned around, Karl looked right instead of left, and for a moment panicked that he couldn't see the rest of his people. There they are, he thought in relief. Farther away than he had thought, though. And...

“Wait.” Karl turned to the left and saw the main group, then turned right again. “Who is that?”

For a moment they froze, then Terry shot off as a blur down the road towards them. She stopped about halfway, paused, and then lifted her arms in a victory pose. Karl could faintly hear the whoop of delight from where he was.

“Jo and Tabitha,” Karl breathed. “They're alive.” For all their confidence, Karl had had the distinct sensation that the duo were knowingly volunteering for a suicide mission, so an extra burden he hadn't even realized he was carrying fell away. There were also more than two people in that group, so they had managed to rescue someone, as well.

It would be several agonizing minutes more before all the groups met up. He got to the main group first and got a minute to reassure the parents and the others that he was recovering, though he drained a canteen in a single long draught as soon as someone handed it to him. He was almost feeling himself by the time the trailing group caught up to them; just a bit of brain fog remained.

Jo and Tabitha walked at the front of a group with five others following them. Jo looked heavily singed. Tabitha looked...serene.

“I'm all right,” Jo reassured him. “Valerie patched me up.” A young woman with brown hair lifted an arm and waved. Karl turned to Tabitha, who actually smiled at him.

“Hordeslayer,” she said with quiet pride. Karl blinked.

“We got a title,” Jo explained. “Here. See for yourself.” A notification—the latest of many, Karl belatedly realized—appeared and he opened it.

For slaying a force of comparable power level over one hundred times the size of your own, you have received the title: Hordeslayer. Title bonuses are cumulative unless otherwise indicated.

Hordeslayer: All members of the same species as the slain will flee rather than face you in battle. All members of closely related species have a 50% base chance of fleeing rather than facing you in battle.