Chapter Thirty-One: The Trouble with Towers

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“Form the line!” a knight in gold lined armor bellowed, his voice ragged but commanding. City guards stepped forward and followed his direction The warriors of the various kingdoms scrambled into formation, shields locking and weapons raised. Their shouts of determination were met with the guttural roars of the advancing horde. But even as the defenders braced themselves, the sheer number of enemies threatened to overwhelm.

The first clash was thunderous. Swords met corrupted flesh, steel ringing against bone. Shields splintered under the relentless force of clawed strikes, and the air filled with cries of pain and fury. The line buckled but held, a desperate barricade against the onslaught.

Jace barely had time to react as one of the creatures broke through. It lunged at him, its jaws snapping inches from his face, reeking of rot and violence. He twisted to the side, his blade flashing upward. The edge of his sword bit deep into the creature’s neck, severing its head in a single brutal motion. The force of the blow staggered him, but there was no time to recover. Another monstrosity leaped forward, claws outstretched.

Around him, the battle was chaos. Alice stood a few paces away, her hands alight with sputtering magic. She launched a blast of energy that struck an advancing beast, but the spell faltered, barely slowing the creature’s charge. Her face was pale, sweat glistening on her brow as she tried to summon more power.

“Alice, behind you!” Jace shouted, his voice raw. She spun just in time to raise a glowing barrier, the translucent shield barely absorbing the impact of a leaping undead. The force drove her to her knees, and Jace sprinted to her side, slashing through the creature before it could finish its attack.

Dex fought nearby, his heavy axe cleaving through a pair of skeletal foes with raw, desperate swings. His movements were slower than usual, his breath labored, and Jace could see the strain in his posture. A third creature lunged at him from the side, but Ell darted in, her dagger flashing as she plunged it into the beast’s skull. The creature collapsed, and Ell offered Dex a brief nod before disappearing back into the fray.

“Focus up!” Ell shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. She moved like a shadow, her agility still intact, but there was a noticeable lack of power in her strikes. Each kill required more effort, more precision, and even she couldn’t keep her pace forever.

Marcus and Molly held their ground further down the line, shields locked together as they absorbed the relentless attacks. Marcus barked orders, his voice steady despite the blood running down his temple. Molly’s sword lashed out from behind her shield, her strikes methodical but strained. A creature’s claw scraped against her arm, leaving a shallow gash, but she didn’t falter.

“We’re losing ground!” Marcus yelled, his shield shuddering under another heavy blow.

Jace’s mind raced as he parried another attack, the impact jarring his arms. They couldn’t keep this up. The horde was relentless, and the defenders were weakening by the second. The loss of their divine connections was a noose tightening around their throats, every action requiring more effort, every movement draining precious strength.

A piercing screech cut through the battlefield, freezing Jace in place. One of the larger creatures, a towering amalgamation of bone and sinew, stepped forward. Its eyes glowed a sickly green, and a dense, suffocating aura radiated from its form. The ground beneath it seemed to rot away with every step, tendrils of decay spreading outward.

“What the hell is that?” Dex growled, his axe trembling in his grip.

The beast’s maw opened, and a torrent of black mist poured forth, sweeping across the battlefield. Jace dove to the side, the edge of the mist brushing against his leg. Pain flared instantly, a cold, gnawing sensation that left him gasping.

“Don’t let it touch you!” Alice screamed, throwing a shield of light around herself and Ell. The mist slammed against the barrier, pushing her to the brink of collapse as she strained to hold it.

Jace pushed himself to his feet, his sword raised. “We need to take it down now!”

Ell darted forward, weaving between the smaller creatures that swarmed around the beast. Her daggers flashed as she sliced through tendons and joints, trying to cripple the monstrosity. It roared, swiping at her with a massive, clawed hand. She ducked under the strike, but the ground cracked beneath the force of the blow, sending her sprawling.

“Ell!” Jace shouted, rushing to her aid. He leaped onto the creature’s back, driving his blade into the base of its neck. The beast howled, twisting violently as it tried to shake him off. He held on, plunging the blade deeper, dark ichor spilling from the wound.

Dex charged in with a roar, his axe cleaving into one of the beast’s legs. The impact sent a shockwave through the creature, forcing it to stagger. Alice, summoning the last of her strength, launched a concentrated blast of light directly into the monster’s chest. The explosion tore through its torso, and the creature collapsed with a final, ear-splitting shriek.

For a brief moment, the battlefield stilled. The remaining undead hesitated, their movements faltering as if confused. Then, as though an unseen thread had been severed, they crumbled. One by one, the creatures fell, their forms dissolving into ash that was carried away by the wind.

Jace fell to his knees, his chest heaving as the adrenaline began to fade. Around him, his friends stood bloodied and battered, but alive. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the ragged breaths of the survivors.

The lull in the battle was fleeting, a cruel deception. From the horizon came another surge, the ground trembling beneath the weight of countless undead. Their grotesque forms spilled across the battlefield like a flood of nightmares, their snarls and shrieks drowning out all other sound. Jace’s stomach turned as he spotted it—a distant cloud of darkness, swirling unnaturally against the backdrop of the gray sky. The pressure in the air shifted, heavy and suffocating. He knew without question: the Dark One was coming.

“We’re losing ground!” Marcus shouted, his voice strained as he slammed his shield against the talons of a monstrous claw. The line wavered, the knights’ once-unyielding wall of steel and resolve now buckling under the relentless assault. For every beast they felled, three more took its place. Their strength, already drained from the earlier battle, was faltering.

Behind them, the royalty and nobility who had so boldly declared their support now vanished into the shadows, retreating to the safety of hidden chambers. Jace caught glimpses of their panicked faces, heard the hurried whispers of lords and ladies murmuring of their own people, their own kingdoms. One by one, they abandoned the field, leaving the warriors to fend for themselves.

Dex, his axe dripping with black ichor, snarled in fury as he drove his weapon into another advancing beast. “Cowards!” he spat, his voice raw with rage. “They’re leaving us to die.”

Jace didn’t reply. His focus was singular, his blade slicing through the neck of a clawed creature that lunged for him. But no matter how many fell to his strikes, it wasn’t enough. The horde pressed in from all sides, a suffocating tide of teeth and claws.

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And then it came.

A towering beast broke through the front lines, its skeletal frame wreathed in dark, flickering flames. It let out a roar that shook the battlefield, its voice a guttural symphony of anguish and rage. The sound reverberated through Jace’s chest, stealing his breath. He gritted his teeth, his legs locking in place as the creature charged. Its immense form loomed over him, the air thickening with its presence. This… this was too much.

Just as the skeletal behemoth raised its massive claws to strike, a blur of motion cut through the chaos. Brutus. The hulking warrior charged into the fray, his immense bulk colliding with the beast like a battering ram. His sword glowed faintly, its light cutting through the encroaching darkness as though defying it. With a thunderous roar of his own, Brutus swung his blade in a wide arc, the edge slicing clean through the monster’s flaming ribs. The skeletal creature let out one last, ear-piercing wail before it collapsed, the dark flames snuffed out in an instant.

“Get up!” Brutus bellowed, his deep voice a rallying cry that cut through the despair. He turned, his blade cleaving another undead in two with a single, powerful strike. “We’re not done yet!”

Jace felt a surge of hope as Brutus carved a path through the horde, his presence reinvigorating the faltering line. The knights and warriors around him rallied, their shouts rising above the chaos as they pushed back against the tide. But the battle was far from over. The undead kept coming, an inexhaustible force driven by an unrelenting will.

“We can’t hold this!” Alice’s voice reached him, sharp and urgent. She stood a few feet away, her hands trembling as she loosed another spell. The blast of light struck an advancing creature, but her magic was faltering, her strength nearly spent. “Jace, we need to move! We can’t keep this up forever.”

Jace nodded, his grip tightening on his sword. The Tower loomed ahead, its swirling mosaic of names glowing faintly against the darkened sky. People were already retreating toward it, their forms darting through the battlefield as they fled the chaos. He hesitated for only a moment, his gaze flicking back to the horde. Was this retreat, or survival? Did it matter anymore?

The battlefield was a cacophony of chaos and despair. Screams of the wounded mingled with the guttural roars of the beasts, their blackened forms surging forward in a relentless tide. The ground beneath Brutus’s feet was slick with blood, turning every step into a calculated risk. The air was thick with the stench of charred flesh and the copper tang of death.

“I told you this was a bad idea!” Brutus bellowed, his voice cutting through the din like a war horn. His armor, once gleaming, was streaked with ichor and ash, its sigils barely visible beneath the grime of battle. He swung his blade in a broad arc, the glowing edge cleaving through three of the beasts at once. “But no one listens to the big guy!”

A blur of motion beside him announced Dranice’s arrival, his twin swords a dance of silver and fire. The arcs of his strikes left ghostly trails of arcane energy in their wake, illuminating his hardened features. “Save the speeches for later, Brutus,” he growled, spinning to block a clawed strike aimed at his back. “Unless you’ve got a monologue that can kill these things.”

Brutus grunted, stepping into the attack to drive his shield into the creature’s gaping maw. The beast crumpled, but three more took its place. “I’ll write one later,” he muttered, his grip tightening on his sword. “Assuming there’s a later.”

The line was breaking. Brutus could see it in the frantic movements of the defenders, in the desperation etched into every face. Most of the students had already fled toward the Tower’s looming gates, but too many still lingered, paralyzed by fear or caught in the clutches of the enemy.

Dranice pivoted, his gaze flicking toward the crumbling line. “They’re not going to make it at this rate,” he said, his tone grim. His swords flashed again, severing the claw of a beast mid-swing. “We’re running out of time.”

Brutus nodded, planting his feet as he unleashed a roar that silenced even the beasts for a fleeting moment. “Listen up!” he bellowed, his voice echoing across the battlefield. “The Tower is your only chance! If you’re still out here when this line falls, you’re dead! Move!”

The students hesitated, their terror gluing their feet to the blood-soaked ground. Brutus stepped forward, his massive frame radiating authority. “Do you think the gods are coming to save you?” he shouted, his voice heavy with anger and truth. “They’re gone! It’s up to us now! Get to the Tower, or you’re nothing but a meal for these bastards!”

A ripple of movement spread through the crowd, slow at first, then gaining momentum as the students broke into a desperate sprint toward the Tower. Brutus caught sight of Jace among them, his blade slick with black ichor, his face pale but resolute. The boy hesitated at the edge of the retreat, his gaze darting back toward Brutus and Dranice.

“What are you waiting for?” Brutus growled, locking eyes with him. “Go! We’ll hold the line!”

Jace’s jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around the hilt of his sword. “And what happens to you?” he asked, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.

Dranice stepped in, clapping a bloodied hand on Jace’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “But if you stay out here, you’re just another body we’ll have to bury. Don’t waste this.”

Jace nodded, turning to join the retreating crowd. Brutus watched him go, his chest tightening with a strange mix of relief and sorrow. “Good kid,” he muttered, hefting his sword as the beasts closed in again.

The defenders closed ranks around Brutus and Dranice, their faces grim but determined. “Hold the line!” Brutus roared, raising his blade high. The swirling runes along its length flared to life, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield. “Get to the Tower!”

The beasts surged forward, a black wave crashing against the shield wall. Brutus met them head-on, his blade singing as it carved through flesh and bone. Beside him, Dranice was a whirlwind of steel, his strikes precise and devastating.

Above them, the Tower loomed, its shifting mosaic of names glowing brighter with each student that crossed its threshold. The gates shimmered with magic, sealing shut as the last of the retreating students disappeared inside. The beasts seemed to sense their prey slipping away, their howls rising in a deafening crescendo.

Brutus didn’t look back. His world was the battlefield, the clash of steel, the cries of the dying. He fought with everything he had, every ounce of strength and rage. And when the end came, he faced it with a grim smile, his blade still burning in defiance.

The group moved, each step a battle against the tide of darkness. Brutus fell back with them, his blade swinging in wide arcs to clear a path. Dex fought shoulder-to-shoulder with him, his movements fueled by sheer determination. Alice stayed close to Jace, her magic flickering in weak bursts to ward off the creatures that drew too near. Marcus and Molly brought up the rear, their shields raised as they covered the retreating line.

The air grew heavier with every step, the stench of death mingling with the metallic tang of blood. The roar of the undead was deafening, their relentless advance a constant pressure at their backs. Jace’s muscles burned, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to keep moving. The Tower was so close, but it felt impossibly far.

Then, the darkness shifted. From the distant cloud came a pulse, a wave of pure malevolence that rippled across the battlefield. The undead surged in response, their movements frenzied, their shrieks rising to a fever pitch. Jace stumbled under the weight of the pressure, his knees nearly buckling.

“We’re almost there!” Alice urged, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward. Her voice was thin, strained, but it carried the faintest thread of hope.

The group broke through the final cluster of enemies, their path clear to the base of the Tower. People were flooding inside, their names etched into its glowing surface as they passed. Jace hesitated, his eyes fixed on the swirling mosaic. The names shifted endlessly, a living record of those who sought refuge within its walls.

“Jace, come on!” Ell shouted from the entrance, her daggers dripping with black ichor. “We don’t have time!”

He tore his gaze from the Tower and pushed forward, his friends flanking him as they ascended the steps. The moment they crossed the threshold, the noise of the battlefield dulled, replaced by an eerie, oppressive silence. The air inside was thick, humming with energy that prickled against his skin.

Jace turned back to the entrance, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Outside, the battle raged on, the undead swarming like locusts. The distant cloud of darkness loomed ever closer, its presence a promise of greater horrors yet to come.

Jace spared one last glance at the battlefield. The knights continued to fight, their line breaking but unyielding. Brutus stood like a colossus, his blade cutting down enemies with relentless precision. The sight filled Jace with a bittersweet mix of hope and despair.

In the distance, Jace caught sight of a small figure darting toward them. It was barely taller than his waist, its chestnut hair a tangled mop that bounced wildly with each frantic step. Green skin glistened faintly in the dim light, and its stubby arms waved furiously, as if trying to part the very air. Clutched tightly in its hands was an object that glimmered with faint light, though Jace couldn’t quite make out what it was. There was something familiar about it but Jace couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Inside,” Alice urged, pulling him toward the entrance. “We can regroup once we’re in.”

With a final push, they stepped through the threshold, the chaos of the battlefield fading as the Tower’s cold, shimmering light enveloped them.