Two hours later.
Arthur found her next victim.
It was another of her human’s companions who had stepped outside of their building to keep an eye out on the wall. This one had long fur that extended to its chin and was probably hard to digest. It saw her come and fearfully hid its jerky in its pocket. As if it would help. Arthur stalked and watched the human squirm.
She was very close now.
Then, suddenly, the door behind her groaned and she felt a presence. It was the powerful black monochrome of her human. A feeling washed over Arthur, and it was quite unpleasant. In her mind, it compared to having claws around her neck. It did not anger her but she still felt bad.
She was not used to feeling bad because of her human.
Arthur’s scarlet gaze traveled to the two-legged’s unique emerald orbs and she could see that the tall one was… thinking. It made it worse. Arthur was more instinctual. Delayed punishment was worse than real punishment.
Instead of punishing, her human moved forward.
“Come with me.”
Arthur did not follow. The metaphorical grip on her neck was still there.
“Come on, Arthur, just there.”
Her human sat a bit far away while the furry one left with his snack. Arthur hesitated. She started to turn away.
“No.”
Arthur froze.
“Come to me, I will not bite you.”
The dragonling approached. The human grabbed her with a grunt and deposited her noble form on a stone wall.
“Listen. You and I… we are a family.”
Arthur tilted her head.
“We are a family, and a family works on principles. One of those is honesty. That means that we do not hide or trick each other. Another is respect. There are only a few things you must respect.”
“Squee.”
“I know that you are smart and that you understand. Here are the three things you must respect. Number one, respect the other person. Number two, respect property. That means that you do not take meat from the drawer or from my allies.”
“Squee.”
“Just as I would not take your meat.”
Arthur’s hand gathered around the small pouch around her neck.
“I would never take your gold either. It is yours. Last rule is that you respect authority, more specifically mine while I take care of you.”
“Squee.”
“You broke rule number two, respect property. You did it yesterday and you were about to do it again.”
“Squeeeeeee.”
“We respect that rule so that our allies remain on our side.”
Arthur hissed and growled. She did not care about allies. She was mighty and deadly and far superior to those borgling four-limbed smooth-skinned primates. Except for her human who was a special case.
“Do it for me so that I have an easier time getting us food. Please.”
“Squeeeee.”
Annoying!
But.
She understood.
Taking was a hostile act. The other humans protected ‘Viv’. They could stop doing it if Arthur was too… aggressive. Even if they were simple creatures. Arthur remembered a time when she was starving and hiding, and did not want to risk it again, for her or for her human. She could be patient.
“Squee.”
“Thank you. Here, have a snack to reward you for listening, but remember, no stealing.”
Viv watched the dragonette trot away with her new prize and sighed. With a human child, she would have demanded that they make up for their fault by providing restitution, but she did not dare do it with Arthur. The little one was different, with a haughty edge that she did not dare poke at too much. It would take all her efforts to steer the powerful predator in the right direction. Arthur was cute but she was still a fricking dragon.
Viv’s train of thought stuttered to a halt, and a deep anguish inflated her chest, forcing the tiniest sob. It crashed on her by surprise like an unexpected rain. It froze her to the bone. She had meant it when she had talked about family.
“I’m never going back, am I?”
She would stay here on this alien world until the day she died. She would never see her parents or brother again.
“No. No… at least I will find a way. Find a way to let them know that I’m still alive. I can do it. Messages are probably easier to send back than a full Viv minus hair and stomach content. Ok, ok. Fix my soul, find why I’m here, then we plan for more. Okay, okay.”
The unease faded, and she returned her attention to the wall where light had turned dim and red. The undead were coming soon and she should eat and drink before it happened. And pee. Home was faraway. These people were here now and she could help them so she would. That was all there was to it.
Viv smacked her cheeks once, ignored the befuddled Yries staring at her, and went back in.
The expedition gathered when a Yries with a name like someone coughed out a ball of cat hair informed them that it was time. They packed up and made their way to the wall where most of the fighters were already standing, trying their best to look busy and rested. It was not a convincing performance. Many were young, casting shifty glances aside when they thought no one was paying attention. There were a lot of bandages and broken gear, and it did not take an expert in xenobiology to see that they were on their last leg. Lorn led the small column up for a short conversation with Gar-Gar, then they took the central portion of the fortification. The stone weaver called Lak-Tak moved her spindly arms around for a while and the rock flowed, slowly, with the liquid grace of a snake. Openings popped on the wall at man height and the temple guard lined against it in rows two deep. Viv went to stand by Marruk’s side.
“What’s the plan?” she asked Lorn, “Do you want me to hold onto spells until the enemy caster shows up?”
The captain smoothed his greying beard, weighing his options.
“No, I don’t think so. As things are, we will fall without the enemy leader taking any risk. You have a mainstay spell, right? One that you can cast almost effortlessly? Do witches have it so early on their path?”
“Yes.”
It was not a matter of path but of practice, but Viv did not feel like lecturing the commander.
“Then use that and relieve the pressure on our flanks. The revenants will converge to the path of least resistance. That’s us. They will be thickest on the sides, and that’s where Koro and I will be staying. As long as we don’t get overwhelmed by more dangerous creatures, we’ll be fine.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Then we shall do it. Oh, and one last thing. I appreciate you working with us. Not just, you know, next to us.”
The comment was unexpected but genuine if Lorn’s embarrassed face was any indication.
“You’re welcome,” she answered, “do war mages usually not communicate with officers?”
“They do it in the best armies, but there is always politics and power plays. And pride. You are easy to work with and I wanted to thank you for that. We could not do this without you.”
“Stop, you’re going to make me blush. Alright, enough of this. Let's kill ourselves some more revenants.”
A cheer rose from the human defenders and the waiting began. The last hints of red disappeared from the small window of sky up ahead and Viv found herself grateful for her skinsuit once again as the temperature dropped precipitously.
“You think revenants smell better when it’s so cold?” someone asked in a low voice.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” someone replied.
“It’s the moisture,” a third voice said, “makes them rot instead of dry up. They’re the least stinky in the deadlands because of that.”
“Ooooh.”
The group fell silent as tension rose. The temple guards were not new to facing the undead, if the zeal they had displayed in the previous battle was any indication. The soldiery of Kazar was specialized in revenant disposal. Every battle was a gruelling, uphill slog where the living had to finish off the enemy force before the first slain could rise again, or at least Viv assumed that it would be the case if they did not have her. They did, and still decades of collective experience could not be offset so readily. The men were scared.
It only took a few minutes of terse quiet before the first revenants showed up. They glutted the edge of the tunnel, barely out of range of the crossbows. Whatever cold intelligence drove them forward waited until a sufficient mass had gathered before unleashing them upon the fortifications. Rows of undead, some still blueish as if carved out from the very ice, stumbled down the slope and into the waiting lines of the living. The Yries leader screamed a guttural cry and his kin released a volley. The bolts tore through the hostile ranks with limited success. Many of the contraptions lacked the power to inflict the kind of catastrophic damage required to take down a revenant. Another volley flew, then the Yries reloaded and waited. Viv realized that they had merely thinned the horde to blunt its impact, saving their most dangerous constructs for later.
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The revenants hit the barrier in clumps and the temple guard cut them down. Under Lorn’s command, the powerful fighters fought conservatively, employing no skills and using small movements. Soldiers and militias were more fitting to holding the line, but she knew that the guard’s training and equipment would help them compensate.
As for Viv, she simply threw one yoink after another. It took so little effort and focus on her part that she simply stopped saying the spell’s name. It was no longer really needed if she had nothing else to do.
Spear after spear of shaped mana erupted from around her, not even from her hand, and went to skewer revenants at the speed of one every two seconds. She prioritized the fresher, meatier specimen, especially those who still wore the decayed remnants of armor. She felt no presence while turning her foes to ash.
This went on for a few minutes. The fallen started to form a pile but it was slow going and the guards were in a higher position anyway. On occasion, the Yries would shoot at denser groups of enemies to turn them into manageable numbers. The scent of spoiled meat invaded everyone’s nostrils and Viv was grateful for the mask provided by her hood, without which she would have been barfing right now. It was that bad.
Arthur had squeaked her boredom and was gripping Viv’s shoulder, keeping a lazy eye on the slog.
“First rank back, second rank you’re up!” Lorn said.
With speed and precision, the temple guard switched warriors to allow the exhausted ones to rest. Stamina was really an issue. Despite higher stats, humans were simply not built to fight at full potential for an hour on end.
Finally, after fifteen minutes of slaughter, the first change occurred. A group of elites followed a denser pack of armored revenants. Viv saw them and was not impressed. Those were mostly small crawlers with long simian limbs, their uneven gait made more alien by the fact that they were sticking to the ceiling. Like really ugly bats. It made them really good targets though.
An Yries released a bolt at a good range and it hit the closest walker in the eye. The projectile burst into flames and provoked a cry of agony.
“Not bad,” Viv whispered. She waited until the group was closer, during which an Yries sharpshooter took down two other foes.
“True mass yoink.”
The shadow ball flew between the armored revenants below and walkers above, then exploded into a hell of questing tendrils, then those sought more victims in turn. Viv felt the barest presence behind the elite directing their step, but it was weak and pathetic. Eventually, a rush of power bounced back to flood her conduits.
The attacking group collectively fell in piles of ash and bone.
It felt great.
Viv focused destructive power in her hand and stepped forward, showing her palm to the mob of creatures even now pressing on the walls. The temple guards stepped aside to let her through, though they remained close enough to cover her.
“Werfer.”
The tunnel went upward and Viv was not entirely confident with the effect of gravity, so she had chosen a smaller spell for now. It still wreaked havoc on the tightly packed revenants. Their flesh hissed and melted under the fiery dark waves until only pieces of corrugated equipment were left on the floor. The growing pile of bodies was reduced to a sharp field of jagged bones.
In the aftermath of the slaughter, the silence was deafening. Or at least it was for two seconds, until something screamed.
Viv had never heard something so blood-curdling in her entire damn life. It forced a powerful reaction of shock and disgust in her, doubled with fear. A few of the younger Yries blanched and took a few steps back while the entire row of guards shone a dull gold.
Then Viv rallied when her own soul fought back the influence, motivated not by courage but by pride. It was the side-effect of having intimidation as a skill, she thought. It certainly came from the same place.
She still believed that she could be the greatest threat.
“Bring it,” she whispered in a low voice.
And the creature came. The tunnel filled with a chill wind, frigid and wet, a roaring torrent that sapped spirit as well as body heat. Viv’s breath frosted in the air as the wave crawled through murder holes to grip at the defenders.
“Steady…”
Two blue eyes appeared from afar, shining ominously in the darkness. The witch only had a second to react as her instincts screamed at her.
“Nope!”
Black mana crashed against her shield and threatened to pierce it. She had half a second to react and reinforce the structure. For the second time, her danger sense proved its worth.
The bolt finally petered out. It was not charged with any ‘meaning’ and yet it had almost overwhelmed her efficient defenses. There was only one explanation. What they were facing was also a spellcaster.
And it was better at it than she was.
‘It’s just experience,” she told herself as she stopped another similar bolt, this time aimed directly at her. The troops before her felt the impact and cast worried glances in her direction as she walked to the long, horizontal gap.
“Arty.”
Her own counter arched beautifully across the air, only for a crystalline blue shield to stop it. In the arctic light of the spell, she saw her foe for the first time.
It was clearly undead, a stripped skeleton clad in tattered robes that resembled her own. It wielded a scepter and hid its bony frame under a cloak of ratty furs. The eyes were the most defining feature. They reminded Viv of Solfis’ unrelenting hatred, but they lacked his focus and adamantine self-control. Their intensity was such that she felt more than saw them fix on her like lasers. Despite herself, she felt a deep worry crawl up her spine. This time, she may have bit off more than she could chew.
[Failed Lich: a powerful caster who attempted to bind his soul to a frame other than his living body and failed. The frame retains parts of the caster’s abilities but lacks part or most of its intellect. Extremely dangerous.]
//Threat identified: failed lich.
//Threat level: high.
//Recommended tactics: attrition.
Solfis’ cold voice calmly stated advice, lifting the cloak of fear from her shoulders. If he thought her in deadly danger, he would have intervened. He still thought that she could take it down, and she could now see how, as hordes of revenants kept getting in.
The failed lich charged another powerful spell. She could feel the intense mana from here, it was something that she had never encountered before. Ice. Or to be precise, an aspect of blue that spoke of ice. The true meaning and nature of the color escaped her, skipping on the surface of her mind without giving her purchase. Viv decided to just prepare another shield.
A few seconds later, a spike of blue energy surged from the creature.
//Intercept.
“Purge!”
Never doubt Solfis. She obeyed in the same moment, her danger sense crying death. The smaller black spell impacted the larger one. The spike exploded in azure shrapnels.
“Nope!”
Viv made her shield wide and thin. It expanded in an umbrella and blocked most of those. She felt every impact in her bones.
The leftover projectiles hit the wall, piercing it in places. A few Yries screamed. She had no time to check on them but she knew that someone had died. Had to keep her attention on the foe.
Some of the guards swore.
A distant part of her mind acknowledged that she had stopped something with the power of a mortar shell with her mind, but it was eclipsed by the bigger part, currently screaming ‘SHITSHITSHITSHITGOTTASTAYFOCUSED’.
“True mass yoink.”
Another ball of searching darkness ravaged the torrent of revenants crashing down the tunnel, and her conduits and core were filled again. The spells she had used were simple and well-practiced, but she had had to overcharge them massively. She would have been running on fumes without the convenient sources of energy around her.
//Arty.
A thick diamond spear emerged from the creature, as long as a man, as sharp as a scalpel.
“Arty!”
Viv’s own attack surged. The failed lich detected it and swished to the right. It was levitating.
“Hah. You wish.”
Viv’s spell angled as it tracked its target. The creature screamed again and the spear faded, replaced by another shimmering blue shield. This time, it was weaker. An entire side crumpled under her attack like cardboard under a sledgehammer.
The thing screamed again, the power even greater. Viv manifested the helmet part of her stupidly named ‘sneaky cloaky’ and could still feel her entire body vibrate. She was not alone though, and a great cry sounded behind her. Suddenly, she felt a great surge of the type of mana Varska used and the sound was muffled. It gave her the opportunity to finally hear what she needed.
//This will be a powerful area-of effect spell, Your Grace.
“I'll use my own.”
Viv’s mind worked overtime to draw mana from her core and place it outside of her body, then use its threads to form several symbols and hold them in her mind at the same time. Finally, she charged the whole thing with a concept only a trained mind could comprehend, and prepared to hurl it at her foe. And not a minute too soon.
A large cloud of powdery sapphire expanded to cover the entire path, then traveled down with conceited laziness. Any revenant caught in its trajectory was turned into a crystalline statue.
The power above Viv’s hand boiled and struggled but she kept adding into it. Even from that far away, she could feel the incredible potency of the spell, and the malice it carried. The strange blizzard destroyed its victims on a fundamental level. She could feel it.
Death descended upon her with a winter maw, but she held her ground. It had to be timed right. Breathe in, breathe out. On her side of the wall, the silence was deafening.
“Blight.”
The overcharged spell was launched in perfect quiet, an abyssal ball traveling at deceptively slow speed. It deployed ten steps away from the edge of the barricade.
The silence continued for a few seconds until the blight spell hit the first revenant still moving and hissed like an angry kettle. Viv could only see a black cloud moving outward, as the spell covered the entirety of the tunnel.
More hisses.
With a torturous shriek, the two spells met. Vibrations in the mana were so strong that they made Viv’s teeth click against each other. The black curtain was still moving away.
And away.
And away.
Viv breathed out in deep relief, soon mirrored by everyone around when the spell cleared the cavern’s entrance with a light ‘pop’ and disappeared into the night. Of the lich, there were no signs for now.
“Neriad’s bollocks.”
“I could have crushed rocks between my ass cheeks.”
“I’m so getting laid after that.”
“Eeeee.”
“I think I peed a little.”
“Gor gor!”
Both humans and Yries (and one dragonette) released their accumulated anxiety in verbal form. Almost all of the temple guards sent admiring glances towards Viv, who did her very best to look cool about it. Her heart was still trying to escape her ribs and her back was soaked with cold sweat.
//Good show, Your Grace.
//But this is not over.
A few revenants were trailing lazily into the cavern, a mere trickle compared to before. Beyond that, she could hear an ominous racket. Like someone was smashing bones and meat together. The distance between Viv and the mouth of the cavern was over a hundred and fifty meters, a testament to the violence of whatever the fuck was going on.
//You may want to refill your core as much as possible.
“They’re a bit too far for efficiency.”
//Please try.
Viv did and found that, if she took her time, yoink spells were so efficient that she was indeed regaining her strength. The awakened part of her drank the mana eagerly and she soon felt the pleasant hum of her own energy coursing through ethereal veins. She was ready.
The sounds stopped and a leg like that of a giant chicken in a John Carpenter movie smashed through the tunnel opening, cracking the stone beneath its weight.
Ok, she was not ready.
What entered was an abomination unlike anything she had seen in the deadlands. While necrarchs were horrifying in a predatory sort of way, that… patchwork of rotting flesh disgusted her, and she had a solid stomach.
The creature stumbled down the tunnel. It was not fast, but gravity was on its side. Time too.
[Failed Lich—
The creature had absorbed revenants, somehow.
“Yoink.”
Viv had no choice. The very idea of absorbing mana from this abomination revolted her. She would still do it if it meant surviving.
The spell hit and started pulling, but the mana she received was limited and… tainted.
No, that was not quite right.
It was mana with meaning. She could still absorb it as its original purpose had been spent, yet the memory of it floated across her mind, whispering of a new idea.
It was change.
Change was death.
Every change carried destruction with it, and there was no upgrade, no improvement without discarded elements. To change was to lose, but not just that. Conscious change meant arbitration between options. Crossing one door meant that other doors closed, but the sacrifice was necessary in order to go from potential to reality. Change was life.
The failed lich had changed the revenants, discarding their individuality and form to wear them as armor. It was going to tank all of her spells by shedding bodies as soon as a yoink hit, or so it thought.
Stupid change was worthless.
As the concept settled in Viv’s mind, she pointed fingers at the misbegotten assembly, targeting joints. With every absorbed piece, she felt a new way of looking at black mana engraving itself into her soul, and with every new critical piece destroyed, the lich stumbled more until it crashed against the ground not twenty paces away from the barricade, unmoving.
The upper part of the lich popped out from that unholy mess like a xenomorph from a disposable crew member. Viv considered using her new power on the creature, but she remembered just in time that she was not completely stupid and that only an absolute moron or someone desperate would use an unknown weapon in a combat situation.
“Werfer.”
The flamethrower-like spell sprayed the failed lich, quickly eating through a hastily erected shield. Viv sustained the spell with all she had even as she felt coldness spread through her limbs as her core emptied. She waited until the monster stopped screeching and kept going for another second. For good measure. When the power was spent, there was nothing left but a half-hollowed blob of flesh.
Then, the entire living detachment found out that the black mana had somehow overloaded the dead tissues, thawing them, when a wave of rotten fluid sloshed against the barricade. Viv took two awkward steps backward and vomited, just like everyone else around her.