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The Earthen Immortal
Chapter 11 - I'm a leader, so I will lead

Chapter 11 - I'm a leader, so I will lead

Through several rounds of drinks, Michael tells me as much as he can about his world. He purposefully avoids mentioning the specifics of his childhood, so all I know of it is what he mentioned when I asked him about the bar initially. The vast majority of his knowledge is sourced from the mercenary group, so I have to take everything he says with some hidden scepticism.

It's not that I doubt what he is saying is true or not, but I'm not entirely certain everything is correct.

This world is indeed called Leden and is made up of one huge landmass, with several bodies of water ranging from rivers to seas and something called the great ocean. There's a single mountain range called the Impasse, as no one has ever passed it and returned. This specific feature of the planet surrounds the south-most part of the land and is rumoured to be home to all kinds of incredible beasts.

It surprises me that not only do the people of Leden know about polar points on a planet, but it is common knowledge to a certain degree. Despite the poles, there seems to be no knowledge of an equator, and I quickly find out why. There doesn't seem to be any real variation in weather patterns that would deem it necessary to designate an equator.

The entire planet excluding a few very rare cases experiences the same weather of a hot summer and a cold winter. Michael describes these seasons as coming and going a lot more abruptly than earth might experience them, but I'm assured that as it's currently summer, I don't have to worry about it.

Due to the planet having only one continent, the division of land is a bit trickier, not that earth made it look easy. As far as Michael knows, the vast majority of the land is unclaimed. The various species, of course, spread out their borders, but there are a handful of large areas of settlements and kingdoms that can only expand so far and so fast.

The main issues seem to be dangerous monsters and a lack of manpower. Despite the dangerous breeding power of humans, the population is rumoured to only grow by a tiny percentage each year.

I still feel that eventually, humans will overrun this planet as technology advances, turning it into another version of earth except with magic this time.

I decide, as soon as this thought crosses my mind, that I am probably the only person that can prevent that future. I have the knowledge and the capability to stop climate destabilization or pollution and overpopulation from ruining the planet.

I can't count on magic to stop this from happening, so I will. Subtle pushes of higher-ups and a gentle word here or there will do wonders for this world. But if all else fails, I'll probably be powerful enough by that point to be able to pull off a species-wide culling.

The prospect of wiping out masses of my own kind is an unfortunate possibility, but the phrase "for the greater good" comes to mind. If I can keep practising magic, or developing technology my way, I wonder how I might pull it off. I'd want it to be painless certainly, and as instantaneous as I can make it. And so that I don't let there become some sort of buyable immunity, it will be completely random...

Michael clicks his fingers in front of my eyes, making me focus on the here and now.

"What on Leden is going on inside that head?"

I smile, wondering how he would react to the truth.

"I'm just thinking how calm it is right now. With everything that's happened, this is nice. Relaxing."

Michael lifts his almost empty mug of the beer called greter and beams widely. He's already drunk. Not badly drunk, as he can still talk clearly, but I can see how he says slightly and his eyes are unfocused.

I sigh, happily deep in my own inebriation. The beer is strong, and the seemingly unending tap has been used half a dozen times by me already.

There's a moment of silence in which Michael finishes his own drink and I take another swig of my own. When Michael slams his mug down though, his expression towards his empty drink has changed and his eyes are slanted in suspicion.

"What's up Michael? Wondering where your drink went?"

He frowns, combining the suspicion with mild irritation.

"No... I'm wondering where you came from..."

He continues to stare down into his mug, and a chill goes down my spine. I'm immediately nervous around him, the fear of being fought sobering me slightly.

"So am I. It's weird not knowing who I am."

The mood has turned sombre, and I'm internally cursing out Michael for both killing the mood and my buzz.

But I force myself to calm down. He didn't mean anything bad, and I'm only ruffled slightly instead of angry. I can even feel with some amusement that the delicate feathers of my wings are actually ruffled but settle back into place as I take another long drink and relax again.

This small hidden bar could very quickly become my favourite place. Everything about it is comfortable from the gentle lighting to the warm temperature to the smell of beer and... blood.

I take a slightly deeper breath through my nose and there's definitely the hot metallic scent of blood. It's subtle, but it's new.

"Michael. Get up."

He looks at me inquisitively. He's probably drunker than he's letting on, so his reactions are probably dulled.

"I smell blood."

At the mention, Michael springs to his feet, knocking over his chair and swaying slightly before he steadies himself.

"Blood? How? I don't smell anything."

I look carefully through the illusionist barrier behind me. There's nothing overly strange about the bland scene in front of me. No motion and I can't hear anything out of the ordinary. But the barrier stops sound. Anything could have happened further into the base in the last hour or so that Michael and I have been here.

"Ventra. There's nothing out there. If something had happened, someone would have sent a base-wide alert."

"But would we have heard it?"

He looks down at the table, frowning at it as if the table itself held the answers.

"I don't know. I've never heard one in here though."

I pick up my coat from the back of my chair, after having taken it off due to the warmth provided by the drinks.

I briefly wonder how my sword seems to be phasing through the coat and how it was still on my back despite me raking off my coat several times, but I can just dismiss it to magic. If it can escape from sight, I'm sure it can escape from reality.

I debate fumbling on my back for my helmet in hopes I can use the aura of awareness for whatever threat I can feel is out there, but I'm still inside. I'm sure I can't put it on.

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"Michael, come on. Even if there's nothing wrong, I want to be sure."

He lets his head hang briefly. After a few seconds and a deep breath, he looks at me with his steely gaze, no hint of alcohol influencing him.

"Ok. If you think there's a threat, I'll trust you."

I nod, satisfied he's on board. I step through the boundary and am immediately bombarded by a screeching alarm and an even louder mechanical voice calmly reading out warnings and instructions.

"PERIMETER BREACHES AT CO-ORDINATES A-2 THROUGH C-10. ALL AVAILABLE COMBATANTS DON YOUR HELMETS AND REPORT TO THE INDICATED DANGER ZONE."

Michael steps through the wall behind me after just a few seconds. He winced at the noise as soon as he hears it.

I haven't got time to gloat about how right I am, so I find my helmet from my coat and clip it on. Immediately, the sphere of awareness springs up and I can see in my mind that there are five areas in the base that need immediate attention. As a Lieutenant, I apparently have a responsibility to do more than defend each point. I know that I have to learn the weaknesses that we display and act upon them as soon as I can.

I'm not sure how to do that, so I just grab Michaels hand and run out of the cafeteria heading towards a glowing red marker in my mind that's laid upon a full 3-dimensional map of the whole compound. As a high ranking individual, I have access to far more than I would have ever expected the base to hold, but all I can focus on is the four access points, and the one area I know needs my immediate attention.

I sprint through corridors, letting the dull walls blur into one seamless journey. At some point, Michael breaks the hand contact and runs aside me, easily keeping up.

When I arrive at the marker that needs me in my mind, I'm apparently needed most at the surgery where I got my implants.

The waiting room is full of injured mercenaries. Some are just bandaged up, while some have been treated with tonics and some are freely bleeding.

I push on into the surgery and am shocked to see Mary on the surgeon's table, stark naked with her abdomen split open and pulsing. Lich is poking around down there, and she pays me no attention.

My gaze falls on her ruined and foul intestines before I focus on her calm and fully conscious face. Her frightening attention falls on me as soon as I enter the room and I'm almost paralysed by the anger inside her eyes. The emotion passes through and she addresses me quickly. Michael bursts into the room and then runs back out again as soon as he sees how naked Mary is.

"Ventra... Lieutenant Cass. You have to help them."

I nod quickly, shocked by the urgency in her voice and the situation as a whole. Despite the alert and the helpful guidance from my helmet, I have no idea what's going on.

"The undead... divisions 5 to 10 were slaughtered. A Wraith Lord turned up and then an Infected Sieger. We stood no chance on the field."

She takes a deep breath that rattles her chest, and Lich shoots a concerning look up at her face. Mary's breathing settles though and Lich continues to sew up the pulsing flesh.

"The Sieger is dead, but there are Wraith lords assaulting each entrance, and thralls supporting half of them. Your helmet is telling you each place you need to go, but I'm asking you to focus on the south entrance. Declan is taking care of the North and East, and the rest of his squad is stationed at the West. Please Ventra, you're the only one who can kill a Lord available. Take my swords if you want."

With a shaking hand, she points next to the surgery door, and I can see an X-shaped scabbard holding two huge claymores each easily larger than the one I wield.

Despite her offer, I know her swords will be of no use to me. She is a body user, and my own body stat is pitifully low. My own sword is my only hope to kill another Wraith Lord.

I take her hand and lean in so she can hear me.

"I promise. Whatever is happening I will do my best to stop it."

The once scarily strong woman seems so weak and vulnerable as she smiles at me.

"Thankyou Ventra. I knew I was right to trust you..."

The effort of speaking to me seems too much and she drifts off, letting her arm hang off the table. Lich looks unconcerned, so I trust that Mary will be ok and turn to leave the surgery.

"Wait. Lieutenant."

I turn to Lich holding out something to me. It resembles a syringe but has no needle.

"This is an adrenaline booster. Put the end against your neck and push the plunger. This is the height of science and magic technology, so make good use of it."

I take the odd syringe and put it in an easy to reach pocket. My hand brushes against the eyes of the previous Wraith Lord I fought, reminding me that I even have it. Despite the chilling reminder, my mind is focused on the danger area my helmet has identified as the south-most and I run out of the door as fast as I can, Michael starting after me without any hesitation.

"What.. did... Lieutenant... Scott... say?"

Michael breathlessly asks between steps as we run. He's slower than usual due to the sheer volume of alcohol he's ingested. Despite the impressive amount he's had, I'm more impressed at how he's handling the situation. He's all business and I like that. Sex might have been all that was on his mind earlier, but he's as serious as I am and that's going to be useful. I explain the situation to him slowly as we traverse the surprisingly large base.

"The support divisions failed. Wraith lords are attacking. We're heading towards the worst defended site."

I can hear what might be a nervous gulp, but Michael doesn't turn back. If anything, he tries even harder to run straight and keeps up with me.

We reach the first body within seconds. The man who had been shot several times with arrows is partially dissolved where the arrowheads pierced him, displaying a corrosive effect in practice. Neither Michael or I do little more than slightly divert attention as we run past.

Through subsequent corridors, the number of bodies increases at an impressive rate.

Men and women with deadly injuries who have either attempted to retreat or heal themselves have died without attention everywhere I look. At least the sound of fighting has emerged, so I know we're close.

Too many bodies later, Michael and I have reached the bulk of the southern-most combat.

The narrow corridors leading to the exit are showing their purpose as three mercenaries standing shoulder to shoulder are able to hold back the undead horde. But the fighting is unbelievably intense for them, and I can see that the mercenaries have staggered their blockades of swords so that as soon as one group needs to fall back, the second group is only a few paces back.

The tactic should have allowed for the mercenaries to wear down the mass of bones until their numbers dwindled, but there was a larger issue here.

The reason So many had died behind us was that a Wraith Lord was standing motionless at the end of the corridor ahead of us, several rows of mercenaries and nearly a hundred skeletons between us.

As soon as we notice each other, I can see the two vertical eyes of the Wraith Lord snap to me. The same yellow and green glints shining from a black canvass.

With it's focus on me, I get an impression of the intelligence it holds. It knows that I am the only real threat to it now. With a hand of too many clawed fingers, it beckons for me to come forward.

I'm immediately wary of what seems to be a trap. The Wraith Lord is standing at the end of a T-junction, so there are two areas that I have no knowledge of. The potential for more Wraith lords is there, but I could just be overthinking it. Maybe the Lord is just cocky and thinks that in a straight fight, it is stronger than me.

"Michael. Find me some mind swords. Soul ones if you can."

Michael is frozen with fear, probably reliving the close call he had with the Wraith Lord previously.

"Michael!"

I grab his shoulder and shake him until he focuses on me.

"Find me the swords. Go!"

He immediately looks through the piles of bodies littering the sides of the corridor.

Now for the rest of them.

"Mercenaries! Fall back to the next strangle point. Charge on my command!"

I put on my most imposing voice, and it must have some effect because all the mercenaries not on the front line turn to me and stoically march back through the corridor. As soon as the three fighting reach the point that they would have been subbed out, they do the same as the others and disappear quickly.

Michael pops back up into my focus with a stack of swords all in scabbard with severed straps. He's visibly straining with the weight despite his high body level and special gloves.

"Um, why are they all leaving? Ventra? What are you planning?"

I don't answer immediately, just watching the hallway of skeletons advance. I draw my sword slowly, and the Wraith Lord responds by raising its right hand. The skeletons immediately freeze, suspended mid-step by whatever technique the Wraith Lord is using to control them in the first place.

"I got two soul blades and nine mind ones. But... Ventra. what's going on?"

Michael has dropped the stack of swords at his feet and pulled out his own. I can tell how nervous he is, despite how drunk he might be, his fear is obvious. He's never been in an intimidation contest, and I'll be the first to admit that we have the disadvantage.

"Michael. I have a plan. I need you to guard these swords. Cut down anything that gets past me, but if I yell for a mind or soul sword, throw it to me. Blade out."

"But-"

"I'll catch it. I need you to trust me. Please."

I look back at him, a pleading look in my eyes. I'm not sure if I can win this, but it will be one hell of an achievement if I can. I'm determined to win this.

With Michael as my backup and the rest of the rest of the mercenaries as my trump card, I'm confident I can kill the Lord challenging me. Whether or not I can keep this entrance contained is another story. I just don't know enough about the situation to accurately evaluate my chances.

Michael nods and kisses me gently on the cheek. It's the most sentimental thing he's shown me so far, giving me another piece of motivation. I like Michael, I can see our relationship going far.

I have soldiers under my command, but I won't send them to their death. I am a leader, and I will do my damn best to make sure as many people survive this as possible.