Black smoke filled the air, raising from the countless craters and corpses. Mud and blood were the only colors outside the wall. It was worse the closest to the wall. Mutilated corpses lay in tall piles. Onigarian Soldiers with control over the wind did their best to blow the wretched smell away from the battlements, but there was only so much they could do.
Most were able to control themselves, having already grown accustomed to the stench, but many still lost their breakfasts.
Alaster counted himself lucky that his [Death Embrace] removed his stomach. He could, somehow, still smell, but it caused no physical reaction. The young man had caused plenty of death, as well as disassembled many corpses. But he had never experienced the rot of so many bodies.
There was discussion among the Soldiers about whether they should burn the corpses, but if they burned them as they were now, it would completely block the Onigarians’ vision of the Tarian army. That was completely unacceptable.
They would need to go out and haul the bodies away before they burned them. However, every time such a thing was attempted, the Tarians thwarted the effort, as did the Onigarians anytime the Tarians attempted to clear their dead.
Ordinarily, such a task would be agreed upon by the commanders of both armies and would be a joint effort. The risk of disease was simply too likely, too horrible, and too devastating to both sides to allow the corpses to rot.
The System strengthened the bodies and immunities of Humanity, as Sedall taught Alaster, but that did not make it immune. Despite the access to Healing Magic, thousands of people still died to rampant disease and plague every year.
However, while the General of the Onigarian Military had sent many messages to the Tarian Generals about such a duty, they had all been ignored, receiving no response.
As such, both sides did what they could to lower the number of enemies, even if it meant allowing their comrades to rot and turn into vermin food.
And yet, as horrible as it was, Alaster was glad to see the bodies remain. They allowed him a vast versatility. And when the battle resumed once more, he would be able to raise the full might of his power from the very beginning.
As it was, as Alaster stood on the battlements over the gate, staring out over the battlefield, at the many corpses, and the countless still yet to be killed, Alaster could not help but wish he had chosen Flesh Mage as his Adept Class. Corpse Explosion would have drastically affected the outcome of the Siege.
He did not regret his choice, but he did wish he could have more of an impact. His army was large, though they were weak in comparison. His Magic was powerful, but Corpse Explosion could wipe out the entirety of the Tarian Army in a single cast.
Alaster had asked his mentors if they could teach him the spell, but neither knew the actual spell themselves and Belgroth was certain that it was a spell as complicated, if not more so, than Minion Spells. Even if Alaster could find someone who did know the spell, and knew it well enough to teach it, the time required for Alaster to learn it would be several months at the earliest.
So, Alaster would instead have to deal with the enemy as best as he could. He would summon his army once the enemy attacked, and he would slowly whittle them down until they realized the siege was lost. It would likely not be in today’s battle. Perhaps not even tomorrow’s. All he could do was his best, and hope that those he cared about survived.
He was glad he had finally managed to create Night Children for each such person. At least those he was worried about. He trusted both Lord and Lady Siphas to be well protected, skilled, and thoughtful enough to not allow themselves to be cornered. However, he still gave a Night Child to Alive, Iris, Isabella, and even Astrid.
He could sense their general location through the Night Children that followed them, as well as know the general wellbeing of the Undead. If he so chose, he could have Bonded with the Children, allowing him to see through their eyes. But considering that each one was paired with a young lady, Alaster decided that to do so would only be a last resort.
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Many thoughts ran through Alaster’s mind as he waited atop the wall. Most of which were of mild annoyance. He could have been meditating in the Training Hall. Instead, he had been called to the Wall shortly before lunch as the Tarian Army had begun assembling to prepare for another assault.
The young man had spent the entire night and morning slowly crafting more Adept Undead. He was interested to see how effective they would be during battle, but as of yet, they remained in his soul. They could of course move freely through his soul, even spar against each other, but Alaster had ordered them not to, much to the Dread Knight’s annoyance. For the battle ahead, he wanted each one in perfect health, even if they couldn’t feel pain or grow tired.
Most of the detachment placed under Alaster’s command were similarly waiting atop the outer wall with him. Just as annoyed but also anxious. They knew the battle would come, however much they wished it wouldn’t. The wait caused them to grow tense.
They knew that the enemy would not be able to tunnel under the walls, at least not unnoticed by Onigarian Earth Mages. They knew that the Tarians, similar to the Onigarians, had very few capable of flight, nor would they risk them in a dogfight in the sky.
Whatever threat would be, it would come from the front. A fight that many were glad was simple. But none knew why the enemy was waiting. From what they could see, the enemy had long since been properly assembled. What else were they waiting for?
Then, without warning, the Tarians charged forward. Their siege engines launched their projectiles. Their Mages cast their magic. And the Onigarians responded in kind.
One moment the sky was clear, turned gray from the smoke, the next it was filled with magic, stone, and fire.
The Commander of the Soldiers under Alaster looked at him. Alaster simply waved him away. The Commander nodded and began ordering his men across the bridge. Replacing them, were a much greater number of Undead. Marching out of Alaster’s soul, they came. Silent, but menacing.
Blackguards, Minotaurs, and Skeletal Mages Took up position along the section of wall. Summoned Undead materialized behind them. Then finally, the Adept Undead marched out, revealing themselves for the first time.
Two War Born, two Dread Knights, two Iron Guardians, and two Shadow Assassins.
The Iron Guardians stood as tall as Alaster and were covered head to toe in thick iron armor. They were heavy, they were slow, but even Alaster had to truly attempt to damage them. They wielded one handed maces that had short spikes on top that they used to deal crushing blows to anything that stood before them.
They didn’t need to get through their opponents defenses, they only needed to destroy the opponent.
In their off hands, they held thick iron shields that were just slightly shorter than they were.
The Iron Guardians were very slow, but once they got to where they were needed, they were extremely difficult to move. There were two Siege Towers attached to Alaster’s section of wall. The Guardians took up position on the bridges connecting the Towers to the wall, causing the thick, layered, and magically reinforced wood to bend slightly under their sheer weight.
Similar to the Knights and Born, the Guardians had a single special Ability. The Knights grew stronger the more blood they consumed. The Born learned quickly and adapted to any weapon they had. The Guardians grew more durable the more enemies were before it. Unfortunately, it was not by much, and it had a limit.
Only one hundred took effect, and that Hundred increased the durability of the Guardian by roughly twenty percent. However, once the number of enemies reached one hundred, the Guardian would heal itself by a single percent, every minute. Such a small amount, but every little bit helped.
Then came the Shadow Assassins. They were, without a doubt, the most complicated of Alaster’s Minions, and with reason. Their forms were average, yet fit, covered by black and purple cloth wrapped around them. A hood covered their head, and a cloth covered their mouths and noses, leaving just their eyes uncovered. Their eyes glowed a dark purple.
However, very few would be able to truly see the body of the Assassin as it was covered by a thick purple fog. The fog itself did nothing but blur the actual body as it only extended a few inches past themselves.
In either hand, they carried sharp curved knives which they could use with lightning like speed.
Their bodies could twist and contort more like a puppet’s than a man’s, allowing them to avoid attacks a normal man had no chance to. They were slightly less durable than the blackguards, but were as strong as the Minotaurs, despite their average frame.
However, their ability was what contributed to their complexity. They could move between shadows as if they were portals, reappearing from any other shadow within a ten-meter radius. So long as the shadow was large enough to contain them.
However, they could still be damaged from within the shadows. They were immune to physical attacks and took less damage from magical attacks while within a shadow, but they could still be damaged. If they were damaged enough, or if the shadow was removed, they would be expelled from it.
Alaster had personally seen them move from shadow to shadow, traveling from one end of the City Lord’s Estate to the other in mere seconds. Of course, that had been during the day, just before he had been called to the wall. Alaster was quite interested to see how powerful the Shadows would become at night.
Unfortunately, he did not have the opportunity to see. Though now, he would see how they were in actual combat. In fact, outside of the Dread Knight, Alaster had not seen any of the Adept Undead in true combat.
‘This should be interesting.’