Chapter Sixty-Nine

Tyler Robertson had always thought he would be one of the first to die if the apocalypse ever hit. He had joked about it with friends; it had been a laugh. When the time had actually come, Tyler found that he didn’t want to die, which meant running away whenever monsters had attacked.

Attack they did, cities being destroyed, women, men, children, the elderly, all being slaughtered wholesale. The streets had become an ocean of pink, the air tasted of copper and iron, and he had wretched at the smell of it even as he willed his feet to take him far away.

Eventually, he ended up a slave, to be sold.

Then Ambrose came. The man was something straight out of a D&D campaign. Tyler used to believe those cosplaying nerds looked ridiculous. Except for some of the women, they just looked hot, Tyler admitted to himself in the moment. Except this man didn’t look ridiculous. His armor was something forged from hell, molten red and brimstone. His axe was covered in dried blood, blazing with hungry, living flame.

His single green eye was harder than a forested mountain, and his face carried the feint shadow of death himself. The wrath around him was a physical presence that Tyler swore he could actually feel. There was an anger in that man so palpable it could burn the world to ash.

For a moment, Tyler had thought a demon had risen from the gates of hell to claim their souls. But no, he had come to save them. It had rocked his world. On Avalon, he had begun to build something, to form relationships. Hell, he had even gone on a small date, a hike with a woman named Rachel through the forest.

Tyler felt his knuckles pop around the bow he held. Ambrose had even given them a chance to fight, to grow. Sure, some said it was his fault that Avalon was being attacked at all, but Tyler didn’t see it that way. That man had brought them here, had saved them, and given them a home.

Did they really think they would never have to defend it in this new world? That this System wouldn’t send challenges against them? Tyler shook his head, muttering to himself,

“Fucking idiots.”

No, of course they would have to fight eventually. It just happened sooner than anyone thought. For a long time, Tyler Robertson had felt weak and useless. That was no longer the case. He had picked up the Mystic Archer class, and with it came power.

Power to defend his home.

To repay what he had been given.

So, when the orcs landed on the beach in front of his tower, he had stood, pointed and called out.

“Enemies! They’re here!”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The orcs flooded from the boat, so many it was hard to count. They raised axes, swords, and clubs, and began to beat on the shimmering light blue shield that covered the island. Sparks of ember gold flecked from the shield like falling ash at their blows.

The draugr below roused themselves, teeth clattering. Tyler found the undead to be creepy as fuck, but they were on their side, so he had to count it as a blessing. The Knights of Avalon below wore hardened expressions, Tyler saw them shift, and a nervous light came to their eyes.

One began to mutter, and Tyler picked it up,

“Oh fuck, fuck, we are so fucking fucked.”

Tyler felt nothing but a cold fury settle over his heart, a sort of calm focus that released the tension from his shoulders as he unclenched them. He took several deep breaths, thrusting his mind into that calmness.

And then familiar flames the color found in nightmares, and eldritch things blazed up from the sea like the devil himself releasing his demons from hades.

A car’s engine let loose a growling roar that shook the very sea, and Tyler swore he felt the island of Avalon itself thrum in response to it.

Thrum thrum. Thrum thrum went the islands heart. Tyler felt it like the beat of a song.

Thrum thrum, went the islands challenge to the enemies that had come to claim it. For its Knight had arrived, and he had no mercy in him.

Chains the color of blessed silver, crushed pearls and feint moonlight exploded from the car formed of nightmare flame, fire the shade of a child’s darkest dreams wreathed those chains, and it burned the orcs that sought to destroy the shield.

The car ran over a group of the orcs, and behind the wheel of that burning vehicle, that machine of darkest night, was the Knight of Avalon, and his single green gaze burned with the coldness found in the heart of a glacier.

The orcs died. They died horribly, and they died screaming. An axe formed in the air, an axe forged from stygian green fire that swept outward, and the orcs boat was no more.

Tyler lifted his bow, but he needn’t have bothered. The shield was holding.

A single orc remained, smaller than the others, he wielded a green white staff and wore robed of green-gold with a deep hood. His eyes were dead things that reminded Tyler of dried, crushed leaves. A hand of forged emerald light formed in the air above the orc and reached out towards the Knight’s car.

The fire around the car flared, trying to repel the hand that attempted to crush it.

The hand wasn’t the problem. Though the orcish mage seemed to be putting all of his effort into crushing the Knight of Avalon, it was merely one part of his plan. With his other hand, the orc pointed at the shimmering shield, and unleashed a bolt of dark energy that instead of sparking off the shield, appeared to eat at it.

The power the orcish mage unleashed contended with the shield of Avalon at the same time Ambrose’s chains tore apart the hand that sought to crush him.

An axe of molten red, and midnight touched fire swept downward at the orc mage’s head, and cleaved through his summoned shield as if it weren’t there. The orc mage died in a scream of burning flesh and agony.

But his power did its work. The shield of Avalon could not hold up to the power that ate away at it, and it fell moments later. There were no more orcs to face at this point of the island. Ambrose had killed them all, but they had orders if that were to happen.

“We have to go reinforce the other points! Move out!” Tyler called.

He allowed his gaze to settle the form of the blazing car that burned a steaming trail across the ocean.

A part of him wondered if they were even needed. Maybe the Knight of Avalon would end this battle all on his own, with no assistance required from any of them. Or maybe Tyler was overestimating his abilities and they would all die.

Judging from what he just saw, he doubted the ladder. Either way, he’d fight until his last breath, until the last bit of life in him left his body.

Thrum thrum.