The warrior felt his heart thump pleasantly in his chest. From the way it stood this foe seemed like he would provide some measure of challenge, even if it was likely to regenerate itself once defeated. Sensing that he might need it, Orin leapt onto the bed and removed the kite shield that had been hanging over it before strapping it to his arm. His foe watched, still unmoving, its head obscured from behind its helmets face shield.
“Are you ready?”
The warrior’s jaw went slack. It sounded like the suit of armour had spoken. Orin and Rus exchanged looks, and the hunter looked just as surprised as the warrior did.
“Do not think I am like that mindless rabble outside,” the creature’s voice reverberated inside its helmet, giving it a peculiar timbre. “I am a knight, and before we do battle, I would ask for your name, though I am ashamed to admit that I have forgotten my own.”
“What a coincidence, I’ve forgotten mind as well,” Orin said as he stepped down from the bed and faced off against his foe.
The armoured knight held its longsword up to his face in a salute. “Two unnamed warriors fighting to the death for nothing more than their honour. Marvellous.”
“That’s not quite right, is it?” Orin ventured as a grin crept across his face. “You’re already dead, and even if I knock your head off, you’ll just get right back up, won’t you?”
“That, I cannot help,” his opponent admitted. “But if you do succeed in knocking me down, the honour of victory shall go to you.”
“I have no use for honour,” Orin replied. “How about you tell me where your master is if I win?”
“A fair trade,” the knight nodded and readied his sword. “On guard.”
Orin stepped forward and took a deep breath, determined not to give in to his rage. He feinted with his mace. The knight’s strike was quick, and Orin raised his shield but was unprepared for the force behind the blow. It shook his arm and caused him to see stars, but he stepped in aggressively all the same and smashed his mace into his opponent’s midsection with a savage grace that crushed the armour and exposed the shattered ribs underneath.
“An excellent strike!” the knight exclaimed.
It would have been a mortal blow for a man, but not for the undead. The knight raised his arm and brought his sword down on Orin’s shield with all its might. The mighty warrior staggered, and his hips dropped under the impact. The knight raised its sword and brought it down again but this time, Orin swept the blow aside with his shield and knocked its head off its shoulders with a powerful blow.
The headless knight stumbled, but the warrior was unrelenting. He brought his mace down on its torso again and again with controlled fury, rending armour and splintering the bone beneath. As the knight sank to the ground, the warrior continued his relentless assault. When the body finally went limp, the warrior pounced on it.
“Help me!” he called to Rus as he dismantled its armour.
“To do what?” the hunter asked.
“Dismember it, quickly!” Orin cried.
Once it was stripped of enough of its armour to expose its joints, Rus used his knife to sever the creature’s limbs. The arms went out of the window, the legs out the door, the torso was shoved into a wardrobe, and the crushed head left where it lay.
“An intelligent gambit,” the knight said approvingly as the shattered splinters of its skull reassembled itself. “Though all it has bought you is time.”
“That’s all I need,” Orin said as he scooped the knight’s sword up. He examined and nodded in approval before turning to the knight’s head. “Now, where is your master?”
“In the basement,” it replied. “Through the looking glass. The password is ‘Into Urdagon’s keeping’.”
“And what manner of man is your master?” Orin ventured absently.
“That information was not part of our agreement,” the skull said simply.
“We have what we were after,” Rus said nervously. “We should plan our escape.”
The warrior walked to the balcony and smirked. “Don’t look now, but there’s more of them out there.”
Rus followed the warrior’s gaze and frowned. He was right. More of the creatures had gathered beneath the balcony and more still were streaming in through the gate.
“Half the town is here,” he observed sourly. “Must be a grand old party planned for tonight.”
Rus twisted his torso to avoid an arm that came flying in through the window. Orin caught it and hurled it back from where it came. Something splintered behind them and the pair turned around to see that a leg had crashed through the wardrobe door and reattached itself to the torso inside.
“Looks like it’s time to go,” Rus said as he walked towards the door.
Orin arched an eyebrow. “Why? I can just smash it again.”
“And you’re going to do that until the end of time, are you?” Rus ventured. He peered out the door before falling back into his room on his arse to dodge an axe that carved through the doorframe and the solid stone wall like a hot knife through butter.
“The others are here,” he gasped as he scrambled to get behind Orin.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Your bravery never disappoints,” Orin laughed as he walked unflinchingly towards the door with his new sword in hand. “Now, let’s see what this thing can do.”
“Intruders, I am your reckoning.”
This armoured knight stood almost a head taller than Orin and had to stoop its head to pass through the doorway. As it did, the warrior lopped its head off with a single blow before hacking through the unarmoured back of its knee, severing the bottom of his leg.
Rus wasted no time in scooping the head and bottom half of the knight’s leg before tossing them out of the window. Orin kicked out its remaining leg sending the headless knight toppling to the ground. Moving quickly, Orin strode out onto the hallway that overlooked the manor’s foyer. Another armoured knight was climbing the stairs. This one was armed with a flail. Orin looked around briefly through a window and saw more skeletons waiting patiently outside. Then, he spotted a set a stairs leading down off to the side.
“I’m going to need you to stay behind me,” he called over his shoulder.
“Can do, chief,” Rus called as he pulled out his bow.
“Let me know if any of them reassemble behind us,” Orin continued as he advanced towards his new enemy.
In the corner of his eye, he saw another knight emerge from one of the manor’s wings, and his eyes lit up. That one was carrying a great sword that was almost as long as Rus was tall, and as thick at the base as a man’s forearm. There was something familiar about it, and Orin felt an urge to claim the weapon as his own.
When the knight armed with a flail arrived at the upper level, Orin hefted the axe he had claimed earlier and hurled it at the knight. His opponent didn’t fall for the distraction and let the weapon embed itself in its thick cuirass. The knight might have grunted in pain if it had flesh and skin, but it didn’t and scarcely slowed its advance.
With its weapon, the knight had the advantage of reach and Orin raised his free arm as he entered its range. The knight swung. Both warriors knew their ranges perfectly, and Orin saw that the flail would shatter his vambrace and his forearm underneath and pulled his arm back while stabbing at the knight with his sword. The knight twisted its head out of the way and snapped his flail at Orin’s exposed arm.
Seeing that he couldn’t avoid the strike, Orin twisted his vambrace so that its thickest part caught the blow. He gritted his teeth as the flail’s spiked balls struck his forearm and stepped forward aggressively. He placed his leg behind the knight’s knee and pushed forward with all of his strength. Like the others, the knight was surprisingly light, lacking flesh and skin, and using his leg as a pivot, Orin easily sent it toppling over the railing down into the foyer below.
“A worthy foe!” the knight armed with a greatsword exclaimed as it came bounding up the stairs. “I would have your name!”
“Two are coming from the back!” Rus warned at the same time.
“Don’t have one,” Orin grunted as he hurled himself at the knight climbing the stairs. “I’ve already been over this with your friend back there.”
The warrior glanced over his shoulder and saw the two knights he had defeated earlier emerge from the room and barked at Rus. “Jump down the stairs and get to that door.”
“You need not worry about them,” the knight armed with a greatsword said. “They will not interfere with our duel.”
Without answering, Orin launched himself at the knight in front of him. He saw his foe swing its sword in a compact arc and angled his longsword expertly to deflect it away before striking at his arm. The blow was heavy and threw the knight’s follow through off, preventing it from bringing its huge sword around for another strike.
Orin took the opportunity to step into the knight’s chest and drove his longsword up through the gap in its helmet under his chin, piercing its skull. The knight went limp, and Orin wrenched the greatsword from his hands before whirling around to face the two that had reassembled themselves, aware that the one wielding a flail was already coming up the stairs.
The two he had defeated in the bedroom were armed only with stilettos, with their axe and longsword lodged in or on their companions. Gripping the heavy greatsword in his hands felt nostalgic, and Orin lunged forward, cutting one of the knights, armour and all in half at the torso. As it fell to the ground, its companion threw itself at the warrior. However, in his previous life, Orin had been an expert with the weapon and brought it back around with terrifying speed. He took a step back before sending a vicious thrust that pierced through the remaining knight’s gorget like it was made of paper and sending its helmeted head flying down the corridor.
The weight of the greatsword in his hand was familiar to the warrior. He found great joy in shifting its immense weight around effortlessly before using it to unleash devastating blows on his foes. He then whirled around just as the remaining knight was coming up the stairs and brought his greatsword down on top of its head with savage grace, cleaving it in two, armour and all from the crown of its head down to its waist.
The body twitched, and the warrior knocked both halves down the stairs with a savage kick. Before the two halves had come to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, Orin rested his weapon on his shoulder with practised ease and ambled over to the door Rus was standing by, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction, like he had been reunited with a long lost partner.
“The way you swing that thing around,” the hunter said, shaking his head. “Makes my hair stand on end.”
Bones and metal clattered against stone as the armoured knights reassembled themselves. Orin turned around and licked his lips in anticipation of another bout.
“Are you sure you want to see the master instead of just fighting our way out?” Rus ventured. “I don’t like the idea of going down into a basement. Who’s to say he doesn’t change the rules and have the minions outside come in after us if we go down?”
Orin hefted his greatsword and shrugged. “I’ll just cut them down.”
“We could be trapped by their sheer weight of numbers,” Rus warned. “They will resurrect faster than you can cut them down.”
“If you’re frightened, you can wait upstairs,” Orin offered. “These four seem content to come after me and I’ll be sure to try and remember to collect you when I’m done with the master of this place.”
“You’re such a bellend,” Rus sighed.
Orin frowned. “I don’t know that word.”
Rus shook his head and started down the stairs. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
The knights hadn’t finished reassembling yet and Orin reluctantly followed the hunter through the door that led into a darkened basement. Boxes covered with tarp were scattered across the large room, and a large mirror stood at the end of the room.
“They don’t appear to be following us,” Orin said.
“Try not to sound so disappointed,” Rus breathed as he approached the mirror. He examined the reflection, and then its simple metal border and shrugged. “It looks normal enough.”
The hunter turned around and looked at Orin. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
Orin nodded and the hunter sighed before turning around. He looked at the mirror and said, “Into Urdalon’s keeping.”
The hunter held his breath as the seconds ticked down. Then, he exhaled and couldn’t help but grin as he turned to Orin. “Looks like it doesn’t work. A false lead.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Orin said.
Rus looked back at the mirror and jumped back when he realized their reflections had been frozen in place since he spoke the password. Then, he saw a curious glimmer in the corner of the mirror and touched it. The mirror rippled like a pool of water as his finger went through it.
“We’ve come this far, we might as well go through,” Orin said when Rus turned around to face him.
“If you say so,” Rus said dubiously.
“If the skeletons outside didn’t enter the manor because of the stronger ones inside, perhaps there is a worthier foe waiting for us beyond that mirror,” Orin mused.
“Gods above, I didn’t think of that,” Rus gasped before Orin pushed him through the mirror.