Day 8 of Michael’s Deadline

I didn’t think I would manage to get any sleep, but much to my amazement, I woke up feeling surprisingly rested and reinvigorated the next morning.

What time is it? I wondered, sitting up amongst the blankets forming my bed. Did Saf let me oversleep?

But before I could discover the answer to that, a distant shout drew my attention. A second followed it in its wake, then a third.

“Ghost, what in hells is that racket?” I muttered. I was not in the main cave myself and could not immediately tell what was going on.

She ignored the question. “Sleep well?” she asked, amusement tracing her voice.

“Excellently,” I snapped. “Now, what is going on? And what time is it?”

“It’s still early,” she replied unrepentantly. “Most of the company is still abed. And that noise is the sound of Keros’ challenge. Teresa has arrived with someone in tow.”

“Someone? With Terence, you mean?”

“No, it’s….”

“Ghost?” I prompted.

“It’s Regus,” she said, her mindvoice full of astonishment.

My mouth dropped open.

The Reachers had come.

Heedless of what further chaos my abrupt arrival might sow, I flung open my mindsight and shadow jumped directly to Teresa.

✵ ✵ ✵

You have teleported 183 yards.

I stepped out of the aether and into a brewing fight, or at least I hoped it was only brewing.

Teresa was beside me, her face heated and her blades out. In front of me was the source of her ire: Regus and Keros. The ten-foot wolfman loomed over the windknight, the fingers of his clawed hands opening and closing as if he was only barely stopping himself from ripping out the smaller man’s throat.

But despite the disparity in size, it was Regus who was at a disadvantage. Keros had his poleaxe pressed against the side of the wolfman’s throat, and from the line of red dripping down the grizzled human’s blade, he had already drawn blood.

Regus noticed me first.

“Michael!” he growled. “Thank the ancients you’re here!”

Theresa spun to face me. “I was just about to call you,” she bit off quickly. “There’s news. The—”

She broke off as Regus snarled.

The big wolfman had tried to shift out from under the poleaxe, but Keros was having none of that, and now there was no mistaking the blood pouring down the weapon. Regus’s eyes glowed ominously, murder in his gaze.

“Stop!” I barked.

The tableau froze.

I pointed a finger at Keros. “You. Back.”

The windknight arched an eyebrow, his face smooth and unruffled as he glanced at me, and for a moment, I thought he would refuse the order.

But somewhat to my surprise, Keros complied, stepping back smoothly and retracting his blade. Dismissing the windknight from further consideration, I turned to Regus, who was tentatively feeling at the wound on his neck. It was already closing.

“Where are Ceruvax and Farren?” I demanded, getting straight to the point.

“Back in the Marches," the wolfman replied.

I exhaled in sharp relief. Then things had not gone as badly as I feared. “What kept you? We were expecting you days ago!”

Regus shrugged apologetically. “Your man—Zekiel?—had some trouble getting to us, and then there were a few unexpected delays getting the doors to the final chamber unsealed.”

I sighed. I dearly wanted to know the specifics, but I realized, too, they were unimportant right now. “Why are Farren and Ceruvax still in the Marches?”

“Because they’re waiting with the men.” Regus jerked a thumb in Teresa’s direction. “And because this one thought it would be a bad idea for all two thousand five hundred of us to suddenly appear in your base.” His gaze sidled to the impassively observing windknight. “And now I understand why she felt that way.”

I frowned. “All of them are just sitting around waiting in the Marches?”

“Not all,” Teresa answered quickly. “I came as soon as I could. So far, only the Reachers’ vanguard has emerged from the dungeon.”

Regus nodded in confirmation. “But the others are hot on their heels.”

That was not good. The longer our people sat around in the Marches, the greater were the chances someone would notice their sudden arrival from nowhere.

Worse yet, we were not prepared to receive them.

We’d altered our plans to accommodate our significantly smaller force—which was why the rest of the company was still abed. The battle was only scheduled to begin this afternoon, and with only five hundred odd wolves and humans to pre-position, I’d convinced Safyre it wouldn’t make sense to start ferrying our people to the river before noon.

Now, though, we have a force six times larger to contend with.

And for all the undoubted benefits that brought, it was going to be a logistical nightmare getting them all geared up and in position in time, especially this late in the game. Not to mention the changes we would have to make anew to the plan.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

I groaned. Safyre is going to kill me.

✵ ✵ ✵

The next two hours were chaotic.

But it was controlled chaos, and the stress—such as it was—was buoyed by the knowledge that the chances of us triumphing today had improved dramatically.

Every nagian and forsworn caster who could open a portal was pressed into action weaving gateways, and those who couldn’t were either made to stand guard or cast concealment shields—because, of course, we had to do our best to hide what was happening in the Marches from its owners. The wolves were also set to work fetching weapons, armor, crystals, and potions from the stores that we had thought would go unused.

“So, this is your base,” Farren observed. “It’s… cozy.”

Adriel laughed. “It’s only temporary, brother.”

I smiled. The siblings’ reunion had been heartfelt and touching to watch. The two lichs, Ceruvax, Regus, Algar, and I were standing at the mouth of the west tunnels, watching the last of the Bane Wolves settle into place.

“But… did it really have to be another cave?” Regus lamented, with only the faintest hint of a whine to his voice.

Adriel arched one eyebrow. “Would you have preferred camping out in the nether above?”

Regus grunted. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Farren laughed.

“I prefer it here,” Algar said softly, his voice going almost unnoticed beneath the laughter.

My gaze slid in the high captain’s direction. He’d been unusually quiet since arriving. One thing that none of us had considered was the effect that leaving the Reach would have on the Bane Wolves.

The Marches’ open skies had shocked most of them near-senseless.

It was the first time the former New Haveners had been out of the Reach, the first time they had found themselves in such an extravagant open stretch of space, and most were still recovering—or at least, I hoped they were. In hindsight, it was a good thing we had established our base in a cave.

“Will the men manage the battle?” I asked quietly.

“The will,” Algar replied. “The mists are familiar.” Almost unwillingly, his gaze stole upward to the solid stone roof. “As long as they cannot see the…. sky, the men will be fine.”

I nodded, accepting his judgement on the matter.

Ceruvax’s gaze found me. It was not the first time I’d felt the weight of his stare. “We have not yet talked,” the envoy said.

I knew he had questions—lots of questions. There had not been time to brief the Reachers fully yet, and what information we’d managed to impart was full of holes.

“I know, but further discussions will have to wait until after the battle. There will be plenty of time then,” I assured him. “Right now, I have to leave.”

Ceruvax’s eyes narrowed. “Where are you going?”

“To meet our allies, the brotherhood.” The force the huntmistress had agreed to commit to the battle—two thousand players—was smaller than our own but not by much. And it was nearly time to begin deploying them in sector 30,199.

Turning about, I surveyed the faces of the Reachers. There was a reason I’d summoned them here, and it was not simply to reminisce. “You will likely not see me again before the battle.”

That got all their attention.

“Safyre and Adriel will share as many of the details as possible in the intervening time, including—” my gaze skipped to Algar—“the Bane Wolves’ part and—” I picked out Regus—“what role the Reach Pack will play. But I want to make one thing clear: Safyre is in charge. I trust her completely. You will follow her orders to the letter. No exceptions.”

I paused to let that sink in. “Understood?” I asked, my eyes resting on the two elites in particular.

Ceruvax inclined his head stiffly. “Understood.”

Farren acquiesced more easily. “If Adriel has faith in this Safyre of yours, then of course, so will I.”

“I will keep them in line, Michael,” Adriel promised with a small smile.

I nodded. It was not that I distrusted any of the Reachers or thought them less capable than Safyre, but circumstances had conspired to leave them in the dark, whereas Safyre knew every intimate detail of the plan. Even Adriel was less caught up than she was.

And just like Algar had told me long ago, every army needed a leader. In battle, there should be no confusion about who was in charge.

And today that could not be me.

I expected to be in the thick of things for much of the forthcoming battle. Not only was the risk of me falling greater, but as preoccupied as I was going to be with my own fights, it was likely I would lose sight of the bigger picture.

That would be Safyre’s responsibility.

She would be the one directing the flow of the battle. She would be the one making sure things did not go awry. And that was why I’d made certain to drive the point home with Ceruvax and Farren. I didn’t need the pair trying to contradict her mid-battle.

“Good. Now that that’s settled, there are just two more things to do.” Stepping forward, I laid my hand on Ceruvax’s arm.

Commander ability triggered.

Do you wish to pass on the blood puppet memory to your follower, Ceruvax?

“What’s this?” the envoy asked.

I smiled. “A gift,” I said, willing the Adjudicator to proceed.

Analyzing player…

…

…

Analysis complete.

Ceruvax is an awakened Wolf, and you may bequeath him with a less powerful variant of the blood memory. Do you wish to proceed?

Once more, I conveyed my answer to the Game and waited.

Ceruvax has been awarded the ability: enslave (lesser). As a weaker variant of blood puppet, this blood memory will allow your follower to permanently enslave a single non-player subject whose level is equal to or lower than his own.

Ceruvax’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “A greater blood memory! This is from your awakening in the Combat Circle?”

“It is. Now, it’s your turn.”

He looked at me curiously. “My turn?”

I nodded. “I need your strongest spell.” My gaze drifted to the lichs. “Yours, too, Farren, Adriel.”

✵ ✵ ✵

You have acquired the spell, oblivion (stolen) from Farren. Oblivion (stolen) is a tier 6 death spell that destroys any living thing it encounters within a radius of 100 yards. Few can resist its touch, and for those that don’t, death is instantaneous. Targets struck by the spell will disintegrate.

You have acquired the spell, noxious vapors (stolen) from Adriel. Noxious vapors (stolen) is a tier 6 channeled spell that decays the flesh of all living entities to feel its touch. The health of every target subjected to the spell will decay at a rate of 10% per second for 5 seconds.

Note, each subsequent touch from the vapors will increase the duration of the spell’s debuff.

You have acquired the spell, seeping shadows (stolen) from Ceruvax. Seeping shadows (stolen) is a tier 6 buff lasting 1 minute. It modifies all your attacks, causing them to deal pure shadow damage. In addition, foes struck by a seeping shadow blow will suffer a +5% shadow affliction for 10 seconds. Successive seeping shadow blows will increase the affliction.

Note, as a target’s shadow affliction increases, their innate shadow resistance and damage reduction will decrease, causing them to suffer more damage from successive shadow attacks.

It was unfortunate that I could not use void thief to steal blood memories yet, because of all the trio’s spells, those were the most powerful. Still, the three spells I got from Ceruvax, Farren, and Adriel were tier six instances, and were powerful enough in their own right.

Oblivion had been particularly tricky to ‘steal,’ but with both Adriel and Ceruvax watching over me during the theft, I’d survived the experience without disintegrating.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “I have a feeling these are going to come in handy soon.”

The trio smiled.

I glanced at Adriel. “Final thing: the two nagas I enslaved, do you know where they are?”

She nodded. “They haven’t moved since being freed. They are still at the entrance to Draven’s Reach.”

“Nagas?” Farren asked, an inquisitive cast to his face. “Those sound interesting.”

“I guess you could call them that,” I murmured, before addressing Adriel again. “Take Ceruvax to the creatures. He should be able to dominate one.” I paused. “On second thought, take Farren, Regus, and Algar with you as well. It will be good for them to see some of what we’ll be facing before the main battle.”

The lich inclined her head. “I’ll do that.”

I clasped hands with each of the Reachers in turn. “I guess this is goodbye—for the time being, anyway.”

Turning around, I hurried off to find Safyre.

There was time for one final goodbye before my rendezvous with the brotherhood.