Oliver walked through the muddy street, his new servant Yulia at his heels. He’d thought about retiring for the night, but then the undead along the western wall had reported seeing someone in the forest. And even though Oliver probably shouldn’t have, he hoped there was some interloper out there. He’d been stationed in this swamp for an eternity, and besides the small entertainment the goblin raids provided, he was painfully bored.
He approached the stone steps that led up the western wall, the shapes of skeletal bowmen above, their outlines silvered in veiled starlight.
“Wait here,” he commanded Yulia, the undead woman nodding at his command.
Upon the wall, Oliver found Hyalm standing watch, his armored bulk taking up a large section of the walkway. He grunted something to the archers beside him when he saw Oliver, then he stood at attention.
“What have you got for me?” Oliver leaned onto the stone railing, his eyes scanning the trees beyond.
“Two men,” he said, pointing into the night. “We saw them along the perimeter, though only briefly.”
“Your hand,” Oliver extended his arm.
“Sir?” Hyalm hesitated.
“Come now, it’s not like we’re courting.” Oliver smiled and slipped off his leather glove, the air biting cold on his fleshy fingers.
As he gripped the undead’s icy bones, Oliver activated his unique skill [Knowledge Transfer], the last several days of the undead’s life flowing through his mind in an instant. Such a rush of information was dangerous, but years of using the skill had rendered Oliver’s brain unique to such sudden bursts of knowledge. One young, armed with a bow. The other older, heavily armored. Perhaps a paladin? He pulled his hand away and blinked, reality coming back into focus.
“Have you sent out a search party?” Oliver asked.
“We have, but they have yet to return.” Hyalm turned, his blazing eyes narrowing. “There is something in the air tonight. A tension I’ve not felt since I was among the living.”
Oliver gripped the railing and leaned over the edge, the swamp unnaturally quiet. “Things are certainly stirring in our squat neck of the woods. But you worry too much.”
“An old habit,” Hyalm said. “Though what of Drell? He also has yet to return to us.”
That was true. He’d sent Drell to the cultists’ little camp some time ago. Even if the old warrior had to wipe them out, he still should have returned by now.
Oliver was about to speak when a horrid howl split the night.
“That’s close to the wall,” Hyalm said.
“Probably just a lost dire wolf howling at nothing,” Oliver replied, but the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Then there came a loud crash, followed by dozens of screeching voices that clawed at Oliver’s ears. He spun, watching as the eastern wall collapsed, a tide of goblins washing over the rubble.
“We’re under attack!” Hyalm cried, drawing his sword.
Oliver smiled as he summoned his weapons. Ah, finally. Some entertainment!
***
Darian crouched amidst the reeds at the water’s edge, the goblin chief and Gorm beside him. Fria was somewhere in the trees behind, about a dozen goblins flanking their chief. They watched from the southern side of the town, observing the guards on the town’s walls make their rounds. Gustan and Harper were somewhere further up the road and out of sight. Zan was with the goblins assaulting the wall, but he was to return to Gustan after he buffed the horde with his howl. Whether the wolf would listen or not was anyone’s guess. Despite being an animal, Zan knew this battle would be a close one.
Then the howl came, and Darian and the others burst from the darkness as the sound of the eastern wall collapsing swallowed the night.
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The few skeletal guards were caught completely by surprise. Darian hacked one’s head free as Gorm burst another apart with his axe. The goblin chief came in low between them, his hammer shattering a knee. Then his warriors flowed past, stabbing, biting, and crushing the loose gathering of skeletons. Darian followed them into the melee, Sparkblade a line of enchanted flame that flickered in the darkness.
He couldn’t see the other side of town from where he was, but he could hear the goblins shouting as they rushed in. The plan was to assault the town from two directions and then meet around the large structure in the middle. The chief said there was an ancient crypt beneath the ground there. If the gate was somewhere in this town, odds are it was in that crypt.
Darian parried a sword, the skeleton’s head crushed by Gorm’s axe a moment later. Looking at the mounting carnage, Gorm howled, red energy flowing over him. Darian had asked him about it on their way here, and Gorm had told him it was a gift from his orcish father, a special type of berserker rage. With it, his strength and dexterity were nearly doubled for a short time, and pain became a myth.
Gorm rushed into a Bone Knight just as it applied a buff to the surrounding undead. The knight blocked Gorm’s strike with its massive shield, but the blow dented the metal, and the Bone Knight was forced back. With it distracted, Darian delivered an electrified sword blow to its exposed knee, the knight falling to one leg. Gorm’s axe split its skull and helmet the next moment, Gorm’s face twisted in rage.
The scent of sour blood tickled Darian’s nose as the goblins began to fall. While there were many of them, the goblins themselves were weak. And the undead did not feel fear. They gathered in the street around a shadow shrouded Death Knight, two Bone Knights flanking him.
“On me!” Darian called, leading the charge.
He activated [Bulwark], then placed his palm on the ground. As the shadows spread out to summon the zombie horde, Darian reached into his inventory and pulled his Blood Vial out. We need more numbers if we’re going to win this. The town appeared to have no zombies in it, so Darian had instructed to only attack a zombie if it seemed hostile. This way he could summon in support without the goblins growing confused. Though part of him doubted if they truly understood his request. Either way, we need more men. Darian downed the blood in the vial, the warmth of it settling in his stomach.
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Blood consumed: Human Necromancer (Lv.11)
* Temporary skill unlocked: [Summon Zombie Horde]
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With the uses of his temporary skill restored, Darian summoned a second group of zombies. Then he commanded all twelve of them to rush the group blocking their way to the center of town. Instantly they obeyed, shuffling ahead of the attacking goblins to fall upon the skeletal horde.
But Gorm launched himself past them, jumping as he reached the front lines. The Death Knight brought its shield up, but it was too slow. Gorm’s axe bit into its shoulder, splitting bone and armor alike. Darian rushed to the half-orc’s side, a flaming arrow speeding overhead. The arrow exploded right in the Death Knight’s face, Darian’s blade stabbing the monster right in the armpit, Darian’s shoulder screaming as he did so. It dropped its shield as Darian twisted, two zombies now on its legs, keeping it from moving.
Darian readied another attack, but a goblin beside him was kicked to the ground, the Bone Knight above him raising its axe. Darian put himself between the knight and its target, taking the full force of the axe on his sword. His shoulder buckled, pain spreading down his back.
Goblins swarmed it as Darian pushed the axe away, teeth gritted in agony. Their crude weapons stabbed at all the monster’s openings. The Bone Knight stumbled, a flaming arrow bursting against its chest, giving Darian the chance to slip in and stab his sword up and through the gap in its iron helmet. It shuddered, the goblins continuing to jab at it. Then Darian infused his blade with acid and stabbed his blade deeper, the tip of his sword scrapping as it collided with the back of the knight’s helmet.
It fell back, defeated. Darian spun, but the Death Knight was on the ground, Gorm bashing its head in. A few of the weaker skeletons tried piling in, but the chief and Darian’s zombies were slowly pushing them back. Darian was about to join them when the sky split above his zombies, a bright light falling down and swallowing them.
Darian slid to a stop, the zombies and the goblins suddenly consumed by roiling white flame. It churned, some of his zombies killed instantly. Hissing, Darian jumped back from the light. Holy damage. He couldn’t let that light touch him, not even for a second.
“Are you the one Valmier mentioned?”
Darian turned.
“The one he found at the cabin? You really pissed the old goat off, and for that, you have my gratitude.”
Darian watched as the man bowed. He had long blonde hair and a sandy beard, and he was dressed in tight fitting leather armor, a red scarf around his neck. His right hand held a long, thin sword, his left a dagger. How did he get behind me? There were three dead goblins around him, killed so silently Darian hadn’t even noticed.
“Yulia,” the man said.
A woman wearing steel armor came out from an alley, her face marked here and there by signs of rot. She raised her hands, golden light flashing around the dual wielding warrior.
“Nothing like a Cleric’s blessing to work out a stiff shoulder,” the man said, lowering.
A creeping doubt worked through Darian’s heart as he watched how gracefully the man moved. Like a professional fencer. But he was clearly an enemy, and that meant he had to be eliminated.
Darian raised his sword and inched forward, he and his opponent both poised to strike.