Book 2 Ch. 18

Drew left the war council meeting in a flash, quickly finding and reestablishing control of the murder of undead crows he’d left in Sanctuary. With a thought, he sent the flying rats out to survey the surrounding areas. Drew was fast now, disgustingly fast, but he was only one person and couldn’t be everywhere at once, so he sent the crows to scour the areas he would be blind to while he dove straight in a single direction.

The last nine years of his life had been spent with Amber, Spock, Freya, and Maud. Every waking moment not spent in aura training or mana manipulation was spent with them. He loved them all dearly, but he was dying to have some time to himself. Unfortunately, given the state of the planet, he doubted that he would be able to take a vacation any time soon, so instead he set out to take care of the Forgeborn.

Caution was unnecessary, Drew was confident in his abilities as a low C Grade powerhouse. He wasn’t elitist, he just knew his own strength in comparison to the local forces. Unless an incursion leader was an elite like himself, Drew could handle up to mid or peak C Grades with ease now. That was the power difference in being Elite, he could fight above his level and come out on top. The lower grades wouldn’t even be a threat to him.

Within minutes, Drew had found a forward operating base of Forgeborn. He dashed in and cut down every Forgeborn in the camp within thirty seconds. There wasn’t even a fight. The metal men were going about their business one moment, and the next, their bodies were dropping to the ground like puppets whose strings had been snipped. He only stopped to raise each of the dead as soulflames, the ones whose souls hadn’t departed anyways.

Sanctuary needed more people, and if enslaving the souls of his enemies to work for the betterment of his settlement and people was considered immoral, then he no longer cared. It wasn’t personal, he didn’t hate them. His people just came first, and he would do whatever was necessary to ensure their prosperity, even if others might find it disgraceful. Drew raised the Forgeborn, commanded the forward operating base’s leader to disclose relevant information, and sent them packing to Sanctuary. The Valkyries would recognise his handiwork.

With the Forgeborn’s information in hand, Drew sent his crows in the direction of other nearby outposts. He wasn’t going to leave any invader close by to hit Sanctuary’s people. The death of one citizen was already one too many.

The next two hours were spent wiping enemy bases from the planet. Any tin can he could raise as a soulflame, he did. The ones he couldn’t, he raised as normal minions and sent them to join the ranks of his growing undead militia. His willpower stat was over twenty-four hundred, and unless he raised something big and stompy, constructed a bone or siege golem, or found a C Grade he could take control of, then each stat point represented two minions he could have. The big and strong ones took more points, but he was unconcerned at this point.

Six hours into the genocidal purge, Drew stood outside the main Forgeborn incursion base. A deep red-colored pillar from the sky highlighted it from miles away, and Drew watched the invaders with rapt attention. Where the outposts had been little more than sets of temporary buildings and wooden palisades, the main incursion base clearly had a larger investment in funds and labor. Solid stone walls that were forty feet high encircled the base, and defensive magic arrays were inlaid within both the walls, and outside them.

The arrays had various purposes, but Drew knew what he was looking at the moment he saw them. His team had participated in sieges while in the dungeon, and knew what to look out for. Some arrays acted as a physical manifestation of a mana barrier, others reinforced said barrier or the walls themselves. More arrays activated automated turrets that fired bolts from mounted ballista and catapults. The more Drew watched and absorbed information, the more he smiled. The Forgeborn weren’t taking Earth seriously at all.

The tin cans had left out several arrays that every fortified position should have. Namely an alarm system and anti-airdrop barriers. It also seemed they were missing arrays to detect subterranean movement, radar, and even basic monitoring arrays. In simple terms, the Forgeborn had cheaped out on some basic defenses, thinking that a newly integrated planet wouldn’t contain enough serious threats to make the expenditure worthwhile. It would prove to be their last mistake.

Drew could have approached the destruction of the incursion camp in many different ways. He could use undead sappers to tear open their walls. He could construct bone golems as mobile siege platforms, or he could sneak in and cause untold mayhem. It was like the Forgeborn had locked their front and back doors, but left their windows cracked open, the chimney and basement door open, and hung a sign on their door saying “Please come rob us.” Drew chuckled darkly at the metal men having invited their own demise.

Unwilling to waste the necessary time and energy to lay a proper siege, Drew decided to take the most direct route to solving the incursion. He walked through the front door. Yes, the giant forty foot door was locked, yes there was security guarding the gate, but the gate also had a small side door allowing for access to the fort, a door that would likely be sealed, and hallways collapsed in the event of a proper attack. Drew just walked through it, admittedly at high speed to skip the notice of the guards, but nonetheless, walked in.

Within forty-five minutes, every guard on the walls of the mall-sized base was dead. The reserves, the ones that were hibernating or sleeping in the nearby barracks, all of them. Dead as a doorknob. They didn’t stay dead for long though, no no, Drew raised them all, and sent them right back to work “guarding” the walls. He wasn’t sneaky, he didn’t try to be a rogue, he was just so fast and powerful that the E Grade warriors couldn’t react in time to him. They had all died before they realized it. The best part? No alarms. No shouts. Nothing.

Deciding to have a bit of morbid fun, he took one of the larger guards and hollowed out its internal structures with [Focused Contagion]. The metal rusted slightly, but all the muscle-like fibers that made up its body rotted away into nothingness. Drew then donned the remaining metal exoskeleton and wore it like a second set of armor, walking around amongst the fully alive invaders like he belonged there.

Would the “disguise” hold up to scrutiny? Probably not, the fibers in the joints weren’t visible, but that’s why he had magic. Drew used his mana manipulation to tie all the parts together, and drove it like a puppet. Why go to such lengths when he could just wipe them out easily? Mostly it was for shits and giggles, and to collect information himself, before slaughtering them. Okay, I admit, maybe this is a bit rogue-like… but no one would blame me right?

Drew put his new “armor” to good use, walking into every building like he owned the place, before casually slaughtering everything that moved. If it twitched, it wasn’t dead enough yet. Over the next several hours, Drew cleaned the house. All the houses actually. Along with every craftsmen workshop, defensive area, warehouse, and logistics area. After spending so long in the dungeon fighting things that could easily kill him with any small mistake, he enjoyed being able to come to the incursion. It showed him all the progress he’d made, and that all those years were worth it.

Soon, there were only two areas left untouched by Drew’s purge. He’d raised every Forgeborn he’d come across, and he hit the halfway mark on his minion cap. The streets were now empty, his undead minions staying put in their old houses and workplaces. By the time Drew made it to the second to the last place in the fort, physical cries of alarm finally rang out. One of the surviving Forgeborn must have left the command area and saw the streets empty.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Drew shrugged, he didn’t care. He was already at his next destination. The incursion Gate stood far taller and more imposing than the teleportation Gate in Sanctuary. A giant doorway with a black abyss looked back at him. With a thought, he brought his hand to the floating red command crystal on the pedestal before the gate.

*Notice*

Native sapient lifeform detected

Options:

1. Destroy Incursion

2. Force peaceful surrender of invaders so they may retreat through Incursion Gate, Incursion will then close permanently.

3. Claim Ownership

Choose…

Yeah, I’m not interested in claiming an incursion on my own homeworld, thanks. As for a peaceful surrender, that option walked out the door when they killed one of my citizens and continued to launch probing attacks at my settlement. Destroy Incursion. Drew decided with certainty.

The yelling now filled the streets, and Drew could hear them coming closer. With his perception, he heard the rhythmic thundering of heavy steps running in formation. The Forgeborn must have been notified the moment he touched the command crystal. Good to know… Drew expected an explosion, or some kind of fireworks show after he decided to destroy the incursion, but nothing so grand happened. Instead, the black abyss disappeared with a pop, and the red light that came from the heavens that signified the incursion base winked out of existence after flickering twice. The giant stone gate collapsed and crumbled to dust. Huh… so that’s it huh?

With the running soldiers coming closer, Drew turned his back to the non-existent gate in preparation to greet his incoming friends. Two hundred warriors were moving down the street in his direction, they ran in formation just as Drew had thought. Twenty rows of ten Forgeborn, each member was clearly in low to mid D Grade, and overall not a threat to him. Behind the two hundred, the commander led from the back, watching his little tin soldiers make haste to the dust-filled space that once held their gate.

The Forgeborn commander was low C Grade, barely. Drew was likely the same level if not a tad bit lower than the commander, maybe they could be a challenge to him after all.

“Halt! Citizen, where is the native?” One of the warriors in the front called out to Drew. He looked down at his arms and realized he was still wearing a dead forgeborn like a skinsuit. Oh yeah, haha. Drew chuckled to himself.

“Citizen, what ails you? Were you damaged when fighting the native?” The warrior called out again, this time much closer as the formation continued running towards him.

Drew raised his arm, palm to the sky, as if holding a basketball in one hand. In one quick motion, he jabbed his arm upward and made a grasping motion with his digits. Two things happened in quick succession. The first, the former Forgeborn he’d been wearing exploded off of him and flew towards the encroaching enemies like shrapnel. The second, and far more serious situation occurred seconds later… [Field of Despair].

Thousands of skeletal arms broke through the cobbled payment the Forgeborn formation ran upon, each hand reaching out in desperation at any living being nearby. The calcified fingers wrapped around warriors' ankles, calves, and anything else they could grab, pulling their prey down and slowly dragging them into the earth, through the stone. Where physical contact was made, the lifeforce was quickly leached from the warriors, their muscular fibers shrinking and shriveling like raisins, until nothing but hollowed-out metal exoskeletons lay upon the battlefield. The sound of empty metal clattering on the ground pushed away the screams of the dying.

Soon, silence took dominion of the battlefield. Eleven lucky warriors out of two hundred had been spared, either by dumb luck, or insanely high agility for their grade. The Eleven Forgeborn warriors stood still, their heads barely turning to take stock of their situation. The corpses of their friends and fellow fighters littered the broken road around them, just empty shells of what had once been life. The commander soon joined them, looking from the battlefield to the remains of his fighting force.

It was at that moment Drew sent the mental command, doors burst open as undead and soulflame Forgeborn flooded the streets, weapons pointed at their former comrades. The undead on the walls all turned and aimed their repeating crossbows and rudimentary, almost clockwork firearms on the commander and the remaining eleven. All two thousand, one hundred, and twenty-seven undead forgeborn waited patiently for their new master’s command.

“Parlay… we seek parlay!” The commander shouted to Drew, reattaching his two-handed mace to his back, as he held both his arms up. His warriors took several moments to process their commander’s voice, their mouths still dropped wide open and allowing for the grasshoppers and wasps of late summer to investigate the newly opened safe spaces.

Drew had the upper hand, and the commander knew it. The larger Forgeborn had been able to process that the native had somehow taken control of his entire garrison, and obliterated the remaining resistance within seconds. Drew nodded his head, and showed his empty hands to the metallic being, having never drawn either of his weapons in the fight.

The commander and Drew soon stood fifteen yards away from each other. Drew was patient as the Forgeborn either tried to compile words, or attempted to figure out a way to defeat Drew. Either way didn’t bother Drew, he’d done what he needed to, and the rest was just clean-up duty. Little did the Forgeborn commander know, but Drew had no intention of letting them live. The threat they brought to the planet was too large, and as a race the Forgeborn almost never acted diplomatically.

“Say your peace.” Drew announced.

After several moments, the commander finally spoke.

“Is there any way that my people get out of this alive?” The commander asked, motioning to his warriors, and the undead surrounding him. Interesting, he isn’t aware that they’re already dead then…

“You misunderstand, your people are already dead. All your outposts and forward operating bases have been destroyed. Your scouts have been eliminated, and the only people that remain alive are you, your eleven warriors, and myself.” Drew answered blandly. There was no need to have a tone of emotion right now. This was a job, and it was to protect Sanctuary and humanity. He would do what needed to be done.

The commander glanced around, taking a harder look at the remains of his forces. His head turned as he looked at the undead on the walls, the craftsmen, the porters, the security forces. Finally he looked back to Drew.

“They’re all truly dead…” The tin man said as his voice dropped.

“Yes.” Drew replied bluntly.

“How?”

“How what?” Drew asked in confusion.

“How did you do all… this?” The man motioned to his surroundings. “How is a native this strong, so quickly after integration?”

“Does the answer really matter? Will it bring you and your men peace?” Drew asked as he shrugged.

“No, I suppose it won’t.” The Forgeborn shook his head in the negative. “Will you at least allow me the honor of dying in a duel?”

“Honor? Your people are a plague of locusts, stripping other people’s planets bare and damning countless lives, yet you request an honorable death? … So be it, I’ll accept your request.” Drew said, almost sneering at the thought of what the man was insinuating.

Forgeborn ravaged other people’s planets, stripping them of everything, and damning native species. When they finally left a world, the only thing left behind was dirt and regular rock, and whatever native species managed to survive would eventually starve to death. They never engaged in diplomacy, they never traded, and they stuck to themselves exclusively. Yet the commander asking for an honorable death made Drew’s mood sour. He didn’t understand these people, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to.

The commander unlatched his mace, and Drew pulled his new sword from his inventory. Drew nodded his head, indicating he was ready. I’ll make it so they don’t suffer, even if they might deserve it. The metal man readied himself, as he began to nod…

“Begin!” The commander shouted.

Drew was already gone. The commander looked behind him, thinking Drew would be there about to attack, but the Forgeborn was surprised when Drew wasn’t. Two seconds later, as the Commander began to take a cautious step forward, likely expecting a surprise attack, Drew reappeared at the exact location he’d disappeared from.

The sound of metal hitting stone pushed aside the silence, as the commander’s blue orbs went wide in surprise. He turned, only to find that all eleven warriors were dead, fallen to the ground. His head snapped back toward Drew, and anger filtered in a scowl as he began to scream, taking a single step forward, mace in hand and ready to destroy the native who killed his remaining men in front of him.

The scream of anger had barely left the commanders metal lips, as he let out a gasp of surprise. He began to fall backwards, unbalanced, unsure of what caused him to trip. He hit the broken pavement just in time to watch his lower half continue another step forward before collapsing as well. Unable to process what had happened, he looked down, finding that somehow, unbeknownst to him, he’d been bisected.

Drew was above him within moments, and the last thing the Forgeborn commander saw was the descending sword of a man armored in depictions of dragons.