13 men had to die before the Order reached the cathedral.
They had quickly learned from the initial ambushes, but it didn’t mean that they get through the rest scot-free.
Almost everyone who had died had been officers from the rifle companies, and even when those officers were quickly replaced with field promotions, those men got targeted, then.
Cecilia was together with Amani and Jiraya, surrounded by members of the 2nd Scout Company. Ahead of them was a platoon of knights acting as the column’s spearhead towards the cathedral. The other knights shored up the column’s rear.
She spotted a figure running at them from down the road. It wasn’t a particularly aggressive run, and she could make out the outline of a rifle slung under one arm. He began to wave.
The man slowed and matched the pace of the knights ahead, relaying something. Seemingly dismissed, the man stopped altogether, waiting for the rest of the column to pass by him. He was frantically looking through the faces in the column, however, and when he saw Cecilia,
“Priestess!” he shouted and waved.
Cecilia excused herself through the crowd, and the soldiers made way for her. Amani, Jiraya, and a few other riflemen joined her. The riflemen and Jiraya stood guard nearby, while Amani listened in on the conversation.
Before the man spoke, he warily eyed Amani.
“Don’t mind her. What’s the message?” Cecilia said.
“Yes, ma’am. Captain Riley’s taken half of 1st Company and taken position on the other side of the cathedral. He reports the area clear and no enemy attacks for the past ten minutes.”
Suspicious. “Has no one inside the cathedral made a move? Are they aware of your presence?”
“No movement in the cathedral, ma’am — and we’re not sure, but we fought with some of those demons nearby as we approached. There’s no doubt they should have heard the gunfire.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Be on your path.”
The rifleman saluted and fell in with the rest of the column.
Cecilia looked towards the cathedral at the end of the road. It was just an eerie silhouette in the dark. There should have been the glow of lamps through some of the many windows of the sisters’ dormitories beside it, but there were none.
In little more than fifteen minutes, the Order had the cathedral surrounded. The elite knights would head the charge through the front, supported by a contingent of riflemen, while waves of their comrades would scale the fences and comb through the dormitories on the right, and the storehouse, garden, and prayer altar on the left. Captain Riley’s 1st Company would try the cemeterial back door.
The knight captain and his men gathered in front of the fence gate, keeping low so they were just barely hidden beneath the fence’s stone foundations. Amani, Jiraya, and Cecilia were right behind them.
The quiet before the attack sent Cecilia’s heart racing. Just to expel the energy of anticipation, she grabbed the knight captain’s arm in front of her. He looked back at her.
“Don’t stray from your path, captain,” she said in a hush.
“Of course, priestess,” he replied. He turned back around and tapped the arm of the man in front of him, who then tapped the arm of the man in front of him — all the way until the signal reached the front, and then the whole line moved, disappearing through the gate.
Amani, meanwhile, sat quiet and still. She knew how these things worked, but no matter how many times she’d been in similar positions, in similar situations, it wasn’t any less unpleasant to her nerves.
Jiraya gave her a once-over. She didn’t seem to be doing too bad, even though her ears were twitching at even the chirps of a cricket. He went back to scanning his environment.
Soon, they, too, got up and started moving, accompanied by a platoon of riflemen. As they filtered through the gate, the riflemen fanned out, making a loose firing line that trudged through knee-high grass. If the enemy opens fire, they could each just dive into the grass and disappear in this darkness.
The trio stuck to one side in the grass; traveling down a known path was a no-go. The enemy could just memorize its appearance in the day well enough to shoot it up without even looking at night.
Instead of shooting, the battle opened with lights: hundreds of green orbs of light hovered 10 meters above the ground, lighting up the entire area around the cathedral. It was a small consolation that they were just barely at the edge of the lit area.
The shooting started ahead of them: a brief volley, followed by shouts from their sergeant to reload. Cecilia stopped and looked up, and she saw the muzzle flashes creating silhouettes of their side’s riflemen. She couldn’t tell what it was they were shooting at, but even she could tell: the enemy wasn’t shooting back.
The knight captain’s feet were frozen in place. Ahead of them were two figures clad in black: one standing on the balcony, their arms spread wide, and one standing guard in front of the cathedral’s doors, hands resting on the pommel of a pure-black longsword.
The riflemen fired, and the door guard spun their sword, deflecting all the bullets, even managing to send one back straight at its sender.
That man bent backwards with an eruption of blood — but then bent forwards again, joints creaking and cracking. He growled, snapped his head towards his nearest comrade, and charged at him, clawed at him, ripping out his throat. The surrounding riflemen quickly shot the fresh zombie and charged at it, three bayonets impaling it for good measure. The sergeant took the burden of putting a bullet in second dead man’s head.
The knight captain noticed a glow coming from the figure on the balcony at that. That was when he realized…
“Necromancer!” he shouted. His men behind him echoed the announcement, and further back, runners started to pass the message to the other units.
He pointed at the door guard. “Knights, engage the swordsman!” He pointed at the balcony. “Riflemen, the necromancer on the balcony!”
Bullets flew and the knights charged — but they’ve had their two seconds of glory.
The bullets swerved out of the way, peppering the walls all around the necromancer. Meanwhile, three knights met the sentinel at the door, but with almost comical execution, they evaded their slashes and thrusts, counterattacking by lightly tapping each of them on the helmet as if they were naughty children.
They all dropped dead. The enemy’s blade clearly didn’t even cut through their armor, but their bodies were there, unmoving.
The knight captain winced. Instant death magic? More death magic? Impossible! —
“There’s two of them!” — he shouted once more — “Two necromancers!”
The academy never taught them how to deal with this kind of situation! Necromancers were fearsome enemies, truly, but who’s ever heard of a close quarters necromancer?
These affronts to nature should have also been recluses, too. Who’s ever heard of two necromancers working together!
Lumina forgive his tongue, but he was well and truly in a shit situation. One necromancer was here to produce bodies for the other one to instantly take over. How was he to deal with that? It didn’t help that the swordsman seemed even more skilled than himself, and the one on the balcony seemed to be using some kind of deflection magic.
Just then … a third head peeked out of the cathedral’s doors. “Hey, what’s the ruckus!” a man’s voice complained.
The knight captain despaired, for the third person was also clad in black. Just how many necromancers were there?…
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“The Order’s here,” the swordsman said. He didn’t expect it to be a woman’s voice.
“Huh, that’s fast,” the man at the door remarked. “What’s that Aji kid doing? No, wait, should we send up a flare and call her over?”
“Better we don’t. We’ll have to kill her afterward and she’s too stubborn to just lay down and die for us.”
“Hey!” the man on the balcony shouted. “Make some bodies for me, already!”
While the three bantered, the Order was slowly retreating, taking little steps backwards and while still keeping in formation, treating the necromancers like predators who reacted to motion.
Meanwhile, further back, Cecilia and Amani heard about the appearance of two necromancers. The soldiers with them were sitting still, but that discipline was superficial; it was actually fear. No one wanted to tussle with three necromancers, against whom numbers were actually a disadvantage.
Cecilia considered their options. She and Amani were their best cards against necromancers at the moment — but also bad ones. The workings of her anti-undead staff were awfully mysterious, as all she had to go on were riddles from the previous owner, Saintess Abel; though her riddles rightfully sounded holy, they were difficult to understand.
Apart from making undead drop like flies, the staff could also interfere with necromantic magic in general. This would bode well for the riflemen who didn’t want to have to shoot their comrades, but that still meant that they lacked offensive power.
She glanced towards Jiraya. The catkin had a broken arm. She glanced towards Amani. She … what could she do?
“Priestess Amani, any ideas?” she called out.
Amani’s ears swiveled around before her head did. It felt strange being called ‘priestess’ together with her name, but she shook off the thought. “I can distribute talismans to keep your men from turning undead” — but that would take too long, they both knew — “or I can conduct a small assassination ritual and target one of them from here.”
Jiraya’s head snapped around from hearing such dangerous words. “Priestess, you mustn’t!”
“Assassination ritual?” Cecilia parroted. “Like in the document?”
“I must,” Amani said, more intent to convince herself than others, “if I do not, Jon will” —
Jiraya gripped her shoulders. “Priestess, please reconsider. There will be more enemies inside. Sacrificing so much just to kill one of them now will do nothing for Fuze.”
Amani sat there in silence. “Alright.”
Jiraya breathed a sigh of relief. Cecilia didn’t exactly understand what was going on, but it seemed that Amani wasn’t in a self-sacrificing mood anymore.
“And so,” Cecilia said, calling their attention, “we still need” —
“Aha!” a woman’s shout reached their ears.
All Cecilia and Amani heard after that was one-two-three clashes of blades, then four-five clashes and then the sliding of steel on steel. Jiraya was gone from their side.
There were sparks and shouts, then gunfire from the soldiers around them, the muzzle flashes lighting up the fight between Jiraya and the woman in strobes. If the soldiers were trying to aim for the woman, they were doing a bad job at it, and with their own muzzle flashes taking away whatever meager natural night vision they had, there was a big chance of accidentally hitting their comrades, instead.
Cecilia realized Jiraya’s back was constantly against them. She planted the staff on the ground and activated it, tuning out the world and saying a little prayer with her hands over the golden cage.
Mana flowed out of her hands, and the golden cage glowed. She at least hoped that it would distract the enemy, making them think that there was some big spell being cast — but no, it was just an anti-undead field, and so far, everyone around her was well and alive.
It would ordinarily be a soft glow, but somehow, Cecilia felt that Lumina was feeling particularly playful today. Hm? Wait, where did that thought come from —
The golden cage flashed so bright, Cecilia went blind, and the woman attacking them was forced to close her eyes — giving Jiraya the edge for a split second. He flicked his wrist to turn an upwards swing into a downwards diagonal cut, circumventing the woman’s own downwards cut that was supposed to fend off his attack.
His sword reached the woman’s eye. She cried and blindly swung her sword in anger, but Jiraya was quick to step out of range.
“That’s it!” the woman cried out. She dashed away, and it was then that Jiraya realized she was aiming for the other soldiers.
“All of you! Group together!” he shouted. He didn’t think it would do much to help, realistically, but they stood a better chance confronting her in formation rather than get picked off one by one.
Unfortunately, they didn’t hear his shout. The woman cut one soldier and then another in quick succession. They weren’t even deep cuts; she didn’t need to make deep cuts. The soldiers recoiled at her attacks, but when they faced her again, their eyes were already white, and they growled with blood drooling from their mouths.
The zombies darted for Amani and Cecilia, but Jiraya cut them down with ease. More were coming, unfortunately, and even more were sure to come as the woman picked off the riflemen around them with impunity.
Some of them courageously grouped up to try and confront her … but it just made it easier for her to cut them all at once.
The trio found themselves surrounded on all sides. Cecilia’s anti-undead field slowed them down for the most part, allowing Jiraya to dispatch four of them without difficulty.
But, that’s strange. They should be dropping dead, not just slow down! Cecilia could come to no other conclusion than these undead being of high quality. The vessels themselves might not have been powerful, but the magic infesting them clung stubbornly even in the face of holy magic.
The woman stepped in again, however. Her sword cut through the air, aiming for Cecilia’s neck, only to be diverted away by Jiraya’s sword.
With Jiraya distracted, Cecilia and Amani had to fend for themselves against the undead.
“Can you fight on your own!” Cecilia shouted over the ruckus of clashing metal.
Amani’s answer was a gunshot, hitting the nearest zombie right between its eyes. She scavenged for weapons from two nearby fallen zombies, finding a pistol and a rifle. She used the pistol as soon as she found it, but the rifle took some strength to lift on her part. She’d never had to actually use one, and though it wasn’t “heavy,” she still found it difficult to balance its front-heaviness with just one arm.
She took aim at the next zombie and fired, and the kick was more than she’d prepared for, though she only stumbled backwards a step; it wasn’t unmanageable.
That was the last bullet. She and Cecilia were surrounded on all sides. Her head snapped left and right, looking for Jiraya, but he was far behind the line of zombies, far too focused on the enemy in front of him to pay her any heed.
One by one, the zombies entered Cecilia’s anti-undead field, slogging through it as if they were wading through muck. Amani flipped the rifle in her hands and axed one of the zombies overhead with the stock, knocking it down. It still tried to reach out for her, however, and she smashed down on it again and again — until it finally stopped moving.
She was tired. It took far too much effort on her part just to kill one of them.
Steadying her legs and commanding her arms to carry the weight … at least she’d die free.
Alyssa felt like she was taking care of two kids. The three of them were moving at a leisurely pace towards the cathedral, whose silhouette was already in sight.
“Can’t it be any farther?” Wiz complained. He had to take it easy while walking, else it felt like one of his joints might pop off.
“Can’t you be any slower?” Alyssa quipped. There was a crushing feeling in her heart, knowing that something was going on in the cathedral … but the things happening around her wouldn’t allow it to bloom into true anxiety. Her eyes darted to movement on a nearby roof.
A shadow jumped off and descended on them. Alyssa’s guns were already aimed at it, but she held fire.
Before it reached them, it turned into a puff of smoke. Only a hatchet and a pile of clothes landed on the pavement beside them.
“I still wonder how that works,” Wiz muttered. He turned towards Aji. “How does it work, young lady? You’d know, wouldn’t you?”
Wiz only got a glance from Aji as a reply, disappointing him. Well, he wasn’t really expecting one. The three continued walking.
Aji, however, had actually taken Wiz’s question seriously, and she jotted down a shaky answer on her notebook. The sound of her ripping out a page caught Wiz’s attention, and when he turned to look, he couldn’t suppress a smile as he saw the page being waved in front of his face.
He took it with much gratitude. Reading through it, he was, at once, surprised and not really.
— Soul Strip, Shadowblend, Will-weaver, Anchorage
Well, those were a lot of Skills in the possession of such a young lady, wasn’t it? If he guessed right, each one fulfilled a specific purpose, and she used them in different combinations to achieve a myriad of effects.
It was no surprise that she was as powerful as she was. Her teleportation ability might have just been a creative application of Shadowblend, while the others … well, he couldn’t tell what they really did without asking the girl first.
That was when they heard gunfire coming from the direction of the cathedral, and when they looked, there were little green lights hovering around it, giving it a dim, foreboding glow.
Alyssa’s heart rate flared. “We need to go!” She dashed forward without regard for her companions, only to be stopped by Wiz shouting, “Wait!” The old man’s next footstep, amplified by magic, propelled him right in front of Alyssa, sending her heels skidding to a stop.
“Wait!” he said again. “I can sense a variety of necromantic mana coming from there!”
Alyssa’s eyes widened. Aji was one thing, but for the enemy to have two necromancers in play? “A necromancer? If it’s just their zombies, I can take care of them” —
“Let me say that again.” Wiz stood tall. “I sense numerous necromancers in that direction.” He neglected mentioning the strange aura of large-scale magic, but an Alyssa who made rash decisions would benefit no one.
Alyssa winced. Was the enemy so desperate that they needed enough necromancers to destroy an army? Aji had mentioned not knowing who the other contractors were, but to think they were more necromancers, all acting in concert … so Aji was just a mercenary employed to fill in the minor gaps?
“So we can’t do anything?” she said. Silence hung in the air for a while.
Wiz could only stare at her, then towards the cathedral. He may have been a powerful mage in his own right, but never in his career had he ever faced more than one necromancer at a time — and once upon a time, he’d faced rare breeds of necromancer who used their necromantic talents not to control undead minions, but to leverage necromantic magic in its purest forms.
— Fear, domination, and complete death.
It was the magic that created, manipulated, and destroyed willpower. He still remembered every fight. They all felt like his last.
Right when Wiz was at the cusp of despair, and Alyssa, on the peak of recklessness, Aji poked the scary gun lady in the shoulder.
Alyssa spun around, finding a notebook up against her face.
“Anchorage?” she asked. “I have no problem, but only if I knew what it did.”
To which Aji replied:
— Anchor soul. Resist death magic.
Alyssa’s eyebrow perked up. Wiz took a peek at the note.
“Do it,” Alyssa said.
Aji touched them both … and stared at them.
Alyssa looked at where she’d poked, then back at her. “That’s it?”
She nodded.
Alyssa looked at Wiz. “Well, that’s that. Let’s go.” She looked at Aji. “Don’t take over any of the Order’s bodies, would you? They’ll start shooting at us if you do” —
There was a golden glow ahead, accompanied by gunfire and shouts.
Alyssa’s eyes widened. “Cecilia?” she whispered desperately. Her muscles tensed, and she took off in a dash before Wiz could put the brakes on her. His hands caught air.
“Damn the girl!” He looked back at Aji. “I’m going ahead! Study the enemy from afar, and step in when you think it most useful!”
Wiz took off with sliding steps, leaving Aji to run towards the cathedral’s gate.