Chapter 69: Fight or Flight
With less than four hours remaining until an unavoidable raid of such unparalleled, historic importance, the time was quickly approaching for everyone to begin moving into combat positions. It was no exaggeration to say that the fate of millions of lives would be decided just a short while from now, and this was probably the last opportunity that the gathered adventurers would have to ensure that their wills were in order, their loved ones taken care of, and any outstanding business tended to before what could quite possibly be the final moments of their lives. This was not, conversely, an appropriate time for petty, unnecessary distractions. And yet, regrettably, more and more seemed to be popping up every few moments, and they showed no signs of slowing down, either. Honestly, it was just one thing after the next, and Alex was having trouble balancing it all as the clock winded down to their confrontation with the level-4, apocalyptic event.
For the past thirty minutes, a black-haired woman from the Royal Roses wearing a business suit and sunglasses had approached Alex in almost perfectly spaced, five-minute intervals to inform him that another powerful world leader had landed and was expected to arrive imminently at their camp. Though none had arrived quite just yet, all would likely be present within the next half hour, and it truly was an uncanny, stunning turn of events; the very idea that the wealthiest, most politically powerful, and influential members of humanity were all soon going to be meeting up together in what was ordinarily a seldom traveled, mostly empty stretch of grasslands just outside of Shadowfall Coast was so surreal that he couldn’t bring himself to visualize it even as it played out before his very eyes.
With an urgency that actually seemed greater than that given for the impending arrival of Ziragoth, ambassadors, dignitaries, and several level-1 but politically significant figures who’d arrived ahead of time were loudly barking orders at various attendants and staff as emergency vehicles carrying furniture, exotic decorations, rugs, and construction materials catapulted onto the scene in a baffling display of hubris and decadence. It was a sight as stupid as it was spectacular; with an enemy strong enough to threaten an entire continent nearly upon them, the political guilds were actually constructing a beautiful, red-and-blue command tent nearly three times the size of the one used by the adventurers for when the various political guild leaders showed up.
These idiots are more concerned about their guild-leaders arriving than they are the dragon, Alex thought.
As a matter of technicality, Alex supposed the blame for all this could be laid at the feet of Sir Peter Brayspark, but that really wouldn’t be fair. For all his flaws, the leader of the Guild of Gentlemen and “king” to his people truly had come here for no purpose other than to assist in the raid. Unfortunately, as a natural consequence of his presence, their raid camp had been turned into a veritable circus, and in hindsight, to have ever expected anything else was foolish.
Right now, the media was broadcasting much of these events to all eight continents of Galterra, and in no universe could the leader of any political guild—let alone the reputationally damaged Guild of Gentlemen—be shown as the only leader of a guild who was fighting heroically on the frontlines in a forthcoming battle to save all of North Bastia: not without every other leader of every other political guild scrambling to make an appearance of their own lest their absence brand them with a permanent mark of shame and cowardice. Incredibly, a few higher-ranking lieutenants from some of the South Bastian guilds were even planning to show up. Really, there was simply no avoiding this. And the fact that none of them aside from Peter were actually going to fight was immaterial; all that mattered was that the public would believe that they had—oh, and that their presence at the camp was documented for the history books, of course.
If it helps ease the terror of all the frightened people watching this in their homes right now, at least some good will come of it. People should never have to live their lives in fear.
As the camp grew in size and more and more individuals arrived, there was no lack of sneering from the adventurers each time they turned their heads to look at those hailing from political guilds. Come to think of it, Alex could not recall any time in modern history that so many adventurers and so many political guild members happened to be in the same place at the same time. It really served to highlight the contrast between the two. Whereas the general attitude towards adventurers by the political guilds ranged from simple dislike to distrust, it was not unfair to characterize the feelings of adventurers towards the political guilds as one of pure, utter disdain. It was a hatred that Alex himself shared in. Though, the more time he spent among the two sides, the more he realized that his common contempt for the political guilds was not entirely for the same reasons. And this unnerved him.
For almost all of his life, Alex had despised the political guilds due to their incompetence, their disregard for the wellbeing of the common people, their overreliance on deception as a method of maintaining power, and most of all, their total inability to protect their people from boss spawns. To be sure, all of his fellow adventurers likely felt the same way and would agree without question if such a point was to be brought up in a conversation. Yet, more and more, Alex was realizing that that wasn’t what really drove their scorn. In fact, those reasons probably held only the slightest of significance to the majority of adventurers. No, their issue with the political guilds stemmed from a much more primal dislike of authority. They were free-spirits who craved adventure, and they abhorred the rules and formalities the political guilds imposed both on themselves and others.
Do I really still fit in with these people anymore? Alex wondered.
To be absolutely certain, Alex also held these mutual feelings in his heart as well. As an adventurer himself, he too was naturally resistant to heavy-handed authoritarianism: he too respected the legacy of the word “guild,” which hailed from “adventuring guild.” But where he differed from so many of his peers was that he hated the political guilds because of how they were run and not the mere fact they existed at all. That was why he, too, did not consider them to be “real,” legitimate guilds. But as his eyes scanned all of his fellow adventurers who were making their final preparations, Alex realized he was losing faith in his own kind so fast that, at this rate, he’d end up hating adventurers more than he did the political guilds due to nothing more than their childlike immaturity, insufferable behavior, and complete failure to improve upon their moral character. It wasn’t that Alex did not approve of partying, drinking, and adventure: of course not! He regularly engaged in all three! But he also understood that the real purpose of adventuring was to help and serve humanity. Somehow, that core goal had become lost amid the almost religious need to have a good time.
At any rate, it was now just a few minutes past noon, and the strong, Galterran summer sun scorched the camp unchallenged by a cloudless, clear blue sky. This was going to be a summer of constant, record-breaking heat: that much was for sure. For the fifth time in under a minute, Alex wiped sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his lab coat as he searched the camp for Kalana. With a frown, he saw that the young Elvish girl was still doing the exact same thing he’d hoped she wouldn’t be: sitting on the grass with her back leaning against her tent while frantically typing away on her phone.
Heading over to the girl, Alex squatted down across from her and said, “Kalana, you can’t let yourself be distracted. Please, trust me on this.”
She looked up at him, her face filling with worry. “Yah, I know, but it’s just…it’s just that it’s been so long since he texted me back, and I’m gonna keep worrying until he does.”
Alex leaned forward a bit and placed an arm on her shoulder. “I know. But trust me: Zach is fine. If you go into a raid with him on your mind like this, you might make a mistake and get really hurt or worse.”
Kalana curled her lips. “If Zach’s really okay, why doesn’t he text me back? It’s been over a day since I last heard from him.”
“He might not get cell service wherever he is. If he’s in B6 like I think, that tunnel is really deep underground, and with the state of emergency going on, there’s been a lot of congestion in the networks.” He squeezed her shoulder blade. “If you still haven’t heard from him by the time we’ve dealt with Ziragoth, I’ll find him myself and bring him to you.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m gonna go with you to find him.”
Alex nodded and smiled. “You’ve got a deal.”
Slowly, and with a clear hesitation, Kalana stuffed her phone back into the right pocket of her tan-colored shorts and stood up. Alex joined her. He could see from the look on her face that she was worried about Zach for more reasons now than just his safety. It was heartening to see that she was taking Alex’s words of caution so seriously: maybe too seriously. Alex had not wanted her to be this troubled. Yet something within her had changed since their talk; that much, he could tell for certain.
She looked at him. “Are you sure you didn’t get any texts or anything from him? ‘Cause if he did get into any trouble, you’re always the first person he goes to.”
Just to put her mind at ease, Alex took out his phone and showed it to her. Coming closer to him, she glanced down at the screen as he opened his contacts, tapped Zach’s name, and displayed their list of text messages, which were brief and benign. Though Alex hoped seeing this would calm her down, it had the opposite effect.
“Something’s wrong,” she said. “I just know it is. It’s been too long since we talked. I’m so, so worried.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Alex insisted. “Believe me. Zach is just fine. He’s just off having fun and leveling. You need to stay focused.”
“I’ll focus, but I’m gonna keep checking my phone just in case.”
Alex sighed. “If you absolutely must, then fine. Just please, do it less. We’re about to be in a truly terrible fight, and even if everything goes perfectly, at least some of us are almost certainly going to die. I can’t let you be one of them.”
“I won’t be,” Kalana said, her eyes becoming sharp and intense—but only for an instant. Softness returned a moment later, as well as fear. “I just really hope Zach’s not in any kinda’ trouble.”
“He’s definitely not. I sent Fluffles to look after him, too, just in case. I know it’s hard to put your mind at ease, but trust me: I know how adventurers think. Right now, he’s having the time of his life leveling up in B6.”
“You’re sure?”
Alex again squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “I’m one-hundred percent sure. He’ll be fine, Kalana. We need to concentrate.”
“All right,” she whispered. “I’m sure you’re right. He’s probably having lots’a fun. Wherever he is, it’s probably better than being here, anyway. He went through so much ‘cause of that mean dragon. At least he’s somewhere safe, right?”
“Exactly,” Alex said. “At least he’s somewhere safe.”
*****
“Nowhere I ever fucking go is safe!” Zach growled as he unsheathed his blade and leapt on top of the winged skeleton horse mount that had appeared out of thin air with a high-pitched “poof!” Then he sat down and grabbed the reins with one hand and continued to grip his sword with the other. True to his word, Olivir had summoned four of the level-25, winged mounts with a mere snap of his fingers. And now, Olivir, along with Grundor and Kolona, each hopped into a saddle of their own so that all four of them were mounted and ready to race after Fluffles, who had flown upwards and out of sight.
One thing was for sure: there was a huge commotion going on above them. Even from down here, Zach could clearly make out the sounds of numerous distinct voices all shouting out to one another in a combination of fear, anger, and distrust. Thankfully, though, he did not hear anything resembling fighting or battle, which meant that, if they rushed in there fast enough, they could likely arrive before anything too terrible happened to Rian and Lienne.
How did they even know to come here looking for me?
Other than the cab driver, Zach hadn’t told a soul where he was going. And given that Fluffles had been the only one following him, he was pretty sure there wasn't anyone else who could have informed the siblings where he’d run off to. The only logical conclusion, then, was that the two of them had figured out all on their own that Yorna was where Zach had gone and had come here looking to find him. Thus, it was his fault they were here. If anything happened to either of the two, he knew he would blame himself. They were probably only here because he'd snuck out of the hospital without a trace and had caused them to worry. But more importantly, neither of them had any idea of how terrible a situation they’d just stumbled blindly into. They were completely in the dark about the hidden Elf society and how dangerous this planet was.
“Okay, let’s go,” Zach said anxiously. “Please, before anything happens to my friends. We need to—”
“Wait!” Olivir shouted, holding out his palm in a gesture signaling Zach to halt. Before Zach could demand to know why, he added, “Just wait a couple of seconds. Kol?”
She nodded. “On it, Oli!”
Removing a reddish-purple dagger from a sheathe at her side, she began waving it in the air while reciting words that Zach had never heard before. She spoke fast—incredibly so—while waving the dagger around with a speed that made it appear a blur. Then things began to happen all around him: and all at once.
First, in a way that reminded him of his time spent in Yorna with Rian and Lienne, his entire body was surrounded by what looked like a million particles of dirt, which covered him from head to toe. The same was also happening to Grundor, Olivir, and Kolona herself. From appearance alone, it was extremely similar to the armor buff that Lienne had given him, only the dirt was so much thicker, and mixed in with it were what looked like sharp rocks. Before long, though, the dirt and rocks all vanished into nothingness, leaving not a trace behind. Yet almost as soon as they vanished, Zach had to narrow his eyes somewhat as the world around him became awash by an intensely bright red light that reminded him of having a laser pointer shined in his eye. This reddish glow seemed to shrink rapidly until forming into something of a ring that hovered in the air above his head before sinking down to his waist and surrounding his body. It hovered there a moment, remaining still just above his lap where he sat on the skeleton horse. Then that, too, faded.
Still, there was more. As Kolona continued to wave her dagger around, an actual tiny cloud appeared no more than a foot or two above Zach’s head, which then began to release actual rain, soaking him from head to toe. Yet strangely, when this cloud vanished, so too did any trace of the water that had poured over him. But even before the cloud and water had faded away, another light appeared around Zach: two lights, rather. One of the lights was above his left shoulder, and the other his right. Zach soon realized these lights were glowing wings that looked like the wings of an angel. They even flapped a few times, too, making a fluttering sound before vanishing like everything else had.
She’s buffing us, he thought.
Zach willed forward a list of his buffs while he waited for Kolona to finish, curious about what she had given them. He quickly read them over even as another began to appear. Of all things, an entire grandfather clock popped into existence right above his head, and it made a loud ticking sound that was impossible to ignore. This ticking sound quickly became more rapid as though speeding up until finally the clock, as well as the ticking, abruptly ceased to exist.
Name
Will of the Favored
Effect
User is blessed with an adventuring spirit
Duration
Life
Name
Enchantment of Fortification
Effect
Increases the user’s armor by 15
Duration
29:52
Name
Minor Aura of Strength
Effect
Increases the user’s strength by 10
Duration
29:53
Name
(T1) Raindrops of the Heavens
Effect
Passive HP Regeneration + 15%
Duration
9:54
Name
Wings of Hastening
Effect
Increases the user’s speed by 15
Duration
29:55
Name
Lesser Time Shift
Effect
+35% Casting Speed
Duration
4:56
Name
Zachys Calador
Level
17
EXP
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
10000/65000
Armor Bonus
67
Strength
48
Dexterity
40
Constitution
36
Intelligence
80
Speed
47
Luck
31
Unleashed Phase Duration
14:51 Remaining
Despite being surrounded, covered, or otherwise drenched by so many different sights, sounds, and colors, it only ended up taking under ten seconds for Kolona to buff the four of them, and then finally, they were ready to take off. Even while sitting still in the saddle of the winged skeleton horse, Zach could definitely feel himself having become stronger and faster from Kolona’s enchantments. He hoped he wouldn’t need to make use of them, but he was prepared now for anything.
“All right,” he said, tugging on the reins. “Let’s go!”
His mount, made of nothing but bone, flapped its shockingly powerful wings, and Zach gripped the reins even more tightly as it took off, causing his stomach to lurch as he found himself suddenly thrusting upwards. To both his sides, he could see Olivir and Kolona, and like before, he assumed Grundor was following behind him.
Given that his face was only a few feet from the near perfectly vertical, rocky wall that led to the top of the plateau, his journey upwards felt more like riding an elevator than flying on the back of a tamed mob. There was no need to soar or move side to side: straight upwards in a direct line was all he needed to get where he was going.
I need to hurry!
His stomach bubbled nervously as the mount rocketed higher and higher, carrying him the full distance in just a few short seconds. Eventually, the skeleton horse flew above the tree line. Branches and leaves smacked into Zach and left a sticky, sap-like residue on his face as he burst out from the canopy and into the light of day. Having been in such a dark forest, he now had to partially squint as his eyes adjusted to the greater lighting. Even still, he could see well enough to make out the various forms on the opposite side of the plateau directly across from him. And what he saw did not leave him feeling optimistic.
Beyond a stretch of field that was filled with thousands of purple-colored pumpkins, on a path that ran across the plateau that Olivir had told him was called “Krul’s Pumpkin Patch,” his two friends were standing side by side just ahead of the entrance to B3 that Zach himself had come through a little more than a day ago. Even with their backs facing him, he could still identify both of them by appearance alone; Rian, his rotund, axe-wielding, shield-bearing friend, was clad in his leather brigandine and baggy trousers, whereas his blond-haired, staple-hat-wearing sister huddled close to him in her blueish-white vest and matching leggings. The first time that Zach had ever seen her, she’d been wielding a wooden staff; now, she gripped a shorter, metal rod that steadily released a green mist that Zach recalled had dropped from Moldark. Come to think of it, those metallic-looking boots Rian was wearing had also come from the boss, too.
Although it had only been a couple of days since Zach had last seen them, it felt a great deal longer in light of everything that had happened since then. Only now did he realize how much he missed them. Was it wrong of him to have ditched the siblings in an attempt to restore his courage and dignity after Ziragoth had butchered him? He didn’t know—though it was beyond denying that things certainly hadn’t worked out as intended. Regardless, what really struck Zach was the fact that they had come looking for him at all: the fact that he mattered enough to them for the two to even bother trying to find him. They were true friends. Friends he had to protect. He drew a sharp breath as an acidic, burning sensation in his gut flared up at the thought of something awful happening to them.
Across from Rian and Lienne—and drawing cautiously closer—were four green-cloaked Elves and two wearing the white. All but one of them were male, and each of the Elves brandished various weapons, with the frontmost of them, a tall, auburn-haired, and green-cloaked woman with a spear, continuing to advance while shouting out demands. Her voice had been the one that Zach had originally heard. Only, now, she was not the only one shouting. Everyone there was now yelling—including Fluffles, who had already arrived ahead of the rest of them.
Positioned protectively in front of Rian and Lienne, Fluffles had assumed his much larger, much more intimidating version of himself. Having transformed, the cat looked vaguely like a panther, only twice a panther’s natural size and with far sharper, far pointier teeth. He also had a pair of wings on his back that he’d used to fly to them. His voice was now deep, booming, and loud, and he was actively engaging in the commotion that was taking place. But even as loudly as Fluffles yelled, Zach could still not discern what he was saying. In fact, Zach could not make out a single word that any of them spoke, because they were all shouting and screaming at one another at the same time such that it all just became one jumbled mess.
“Yep…this is a bad situation,” Olivir said, flying stationary in the air to Zach’s right. “This isn’t good, dude.”
Zach turned his head towards Olivir. “What are you saying?” he asked, becoming worried. “I’m not just going to leave them. I’m sorry, but there’s no way I can just—”
“Oh, whoah, of course not,” Olivir said, holding up his hand as if to allay Zach’s concern. “Me and Kol aren’t gonna abandon your friends and Fluffles. I was just saying it’s a real bad situation is all.” His voice becoming far more serious and a touch grim, he turned now to Kolona and said, “We need to go lethal.”
Kolona’s already pale faced seemed to become even more so as she curled her lower lip and lowered her head. “Oli, I don’t want to kill. I’m not a killer. It’s not who I am!”
“I don’t want to kill either,” Olivir said, “but we have no choice here.”
The knot in Zach’s stomach became even tighter as he listened to the two of them speak. “Hey, wait a minute, guys. We’re not killing them. I literally died to save those assholes yesterday. They’re not bad people: they just have a really bad queen. So please, we’ve got to do this without anyone dying.”
“Heh, no way that happens,” Grundor said, flying forward a bit so that now he was to Kolona’s left side. He took both his massive, greenish-white hands off the reins and gave Zach a double thumbs-up along with a wink. “Don’t ‘cha worry, Zach. Me and Master will rip those no-good Elves apart. Right, Master?”
Olivir sighed. “It sure looks that way, Grund.”
A sick, twisted feeling of wrongness temporarily overpowered Zach’s nerves just at the very idea of taking the life of a sentient being. “We can’t do that,” he insisted. “I’m not a murderer. We can save Rian and Lienne without killing the Elves.”
“Ah sheesh, Zach,” Olivir said, frowning. “I wish we didn’t have to, but it’s either we sneak by them and leave your friends behind, or we kill those six.”
“And why are those the only two options?”
Olivir extended his arm and pointed at the six Elves who were still shouting at Rian, Lienne, and Fluffles while remaining totally oblivious to their presence. “If they see us, and even one of them gets away, they’ll run back to Queen Vayra and tell her they saw us.”
“So?” Zach asked, turned over his palms and furrowing his brow. “We’ll be long gone by then.”
“Yeah, but Elves can use the dungeons too, remember?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because,” Olivir continued, “they’ll come after us.”
Zach snorted. “Where, to Galterra?”
Olivir met his eyes and nodded in a way that left no doubt in his expression. “That’s right.”
“You mean to tell me they’ll chase us all the way back to fucking Galterra?” Zach asked again in total disbelief.
“A lot farther than that, actually,” Olivir said with a small, bitter, and unamused-sounding chuckle. “War or no war, Queen Vayra doesn’t really care too much about me—but you and Kolona? Mhm, she sure does. She’d invade Galterra without a second thought just for my sweet Kolona alone, but if she finds out you’re still alive, too? It won’t be good. And that’s not even the only problem, either.”
“It’s not?” Zach asked with a groan.
“Nope.” Olivir again pointed to the Elves. “You might not be able to tell just by looking, but uhm, those six aren’t warriors: they’re scouts. But even still, they’re a huge threat. If me and Kolona try to go easy on them to spare their lives, they’ll end up killing us instead. Especially since you won’t be able to do much to help us take them down, Zach.”
“I won’t?” he asked, trying not to become defensive. “What makes you say that?”
“It’s because even though those guys aren’t as powerful as Elvish warriors, they’re still way, way, way more powerful than you are. The best you can do is use your abilities to support me and Kol defensively. I don’t think you’ll really be able to hurt them at your level. At least I don’t think so.”
Zach lifted his hands to his face. Out of each of them came a steady stream of impossibly black smoke along with the occasional burning ember. His skin, too, had a sort of dull, ambient, and pulsing glow. After just a second or two, he again met Olivir’s eyes. “They’re that strong?”
This time, it was Kolona who answered. “I’m afraid so.” There was pain and shame in her face, as well as a sort of reluctance that seemed to be fading with each second, replaced by a startling sort of morose determination. “Oli’s right. I don’t like killing, Zach. I don’t like hurting people. But there isn’t a choice this time.”
Zach swore. “I just…I have to…” He drew a deep breath. “I’m going to go talk to them. Do not kill them. Please! Just let me talk to them first. Just give me five minutes and wait here so they don’t see you.”
Olivir’s eyes widened in alarm. “What do you mean talk to them? Zach, you can’t reason with them. They’re not going to—”
Tugging on the rains, Zach’s mount bolted ahead, and now he found himself propelling forward towards the increasingly chaotic scene near the entrance to B3. Below him, a countless number of the purple pumpkins along with the occasional scarecrow remained in their dormant form as he sped past them. The mobs here, Zach recalled, would only “come alive” when approached too closely. They would also continue to fill most of the terrain until reaching halfway across, at which point there would be the scarecrow-laden path that led from B3 to B4. Beyond this path was yet another long stretch of pumpkins followed by the side of the hill that Zach had fallen down when Flywen had enlisted him to help save her people, a mistake that had cost him his life.
As he flew at the mount’s maximum speed towards the hostile Elvish scouts, the icy wind assaulted his face and body and caused his cheeks to go partially numb. He ignored it, though. In fact, he barely even felt it. He was far too overtaken by a rising sense of panic and a desperate need to intervene before things turned bloody.
The closer he flew, the louder the sound of shouting became. Things were escalating very, very quickly. And for once, Fluffles did not seem to be rushing in to make things worse. The cat actually seemed to be assuming a purely defensive posture, bending his legs, lifting his head, and growling loudly at the Elvish scouts who seemed intent on capturing Rian and Lienne.
In total, it took less than fifteen seconds to cross the distance to his friends, and he was about three quarters of the way when two of the six scouts caught wind of his presence. They called out to their allies, but by the time all six sets of eyes were glancing up at him, he was already flying directly over Rian, Lienne, and Fluffles.
Anxious, worried, and in far too much of a rush to get to his friends, Zach was not even remotely willing to bring the skeleton horse down for a calm, slow landing. Instead, he hastily slid right out of the side of the saddle and then entered into a brief freefall, plummeting nearly fifty feet before landing gracefully upright without so much as an ache in either of his legs. He touched down only a few feet ahead of Fluffles. Although his sword remained unsheathed, he gripped the hilt with only one hand while keeping his weapon non-threateningly at his side. Immediately, Rian and Lienne dashed forward, running straight ahead of Fluffles so that they could stand by him.
Despite coming back to this dungeon specifically to find him, it was clear that they were surprised to see him here. Rian’s jaw fell open, and he reached out with both hands hesitantly as though afraid his eyes might be playing tricks on him. Lienne, however, began whispering something indiscernible to herself before she inhaled sharply and moved towards him.
“Buddy!” Rian shouted, scooping him into a bearhug. It was a good thing that Zach was in Phase Level 1, because Rian gripped him so tightly it might’ve crushed him; also, the bladed end of his axe was tapping into Zach’s left shoulder while his shield pressed against his right. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”
“There you are,” Lienne said, dragging him into a hug the moment Rian released him. “Why’d you run off without us? You scared me so much. Wait a sec…” She poked him just below his shoulder. “Your arm’s back already? And your eye, too! When did that happen? Also, did you just fly here on a—”
“Li, that doesn’t even matter right now,” Rian said, interrupting her. His tone quickly shifted and became serious as he pointed to the Elvish scouts across from him. “Zach, listen. This is going to sound really crazy, but I think there are Elves living on this planet, and for some reason, bud, they’re like really mad at us. As soon we got here, these guys, Zach, they just like came out of nowhere and started yelling at us completely unprovoked and—”
“Zachys Calador!” shouted the red-haired woman, pointing at him. “You’re alive?”
This prompted a series of awestruck, confused stares from both Rian and Lienne as the Elves all began to mutter and mumble to one another with equally confused glances—all except for the two white-cloaked Elves, who averted their gaze and made pained facial expressions as though stricken by shame. Zach did not recognize a single one of these Elves—including the red-headed woman—from the prior day’s battle, but despite this, they seemed to know who he was quite well. Word must have spread.
“Art thee Zachys Calador?” asked a white-cloaked man wielding a tremendous, silver bastard sword that likely weighed as much as a person. “Are thee the peasant our queen did shamefully betray?”
“Queen?” Rian asked, shouting the word in an exasperated way that did not seem intentional.
Lienne scratched her head. “Betray? Zach, why do these Elves know your name?”
Zach released an awkward, uncomfortable laugh. “It’s complicated. A whole lot happened since we last saw each other.”
A crease formed in Rian’s brow and his lips puckered as though to form the “wh” sound. It was Lienne, however, who spoke. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. “It’s only been a day, Zach. What could possibly have happened?”
“A lot. Way too much to explain right now.”
“Give us the short version, then,” Rian demanded.
“It won’t make any sense.”
“Try me.”
Zach sighed. “Kalana’s mom made me fight in a vampire war against zombies and then betrayed me and killed me.”
“Okay, you’re right,” Rian said. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense.”
“Wait, what’d you just say?” Lienne asked, her voice now much higher in pitch.
Zach made yet another sigh, and rather than try to explain, he instead turned his attention to the far more pressing situation. Even as Rian and Lienne fired off question after question, he ignored them for the moment. Now, stepping in front of his two baffled, inquisitive friends, he walked directly up to the spear-wielding Elvish woman and looked directly into her eyes. “If you know who I am, then you know I saved a lot of your people.”
“You…you did,” the red-headed Elvish woman said. “My aunt was one of them.”
“And you know what your queen did to me, don’t you?”
She winced, and her spear lowered slightly. “Everyone does,” she said, her voice now just a tad bit softer. “Forgive the queen. She’s a wounded woman who is only trying to make us whole again.”
Zach wet his lips as he thought on how to proceed. “I saved your friends. And these two”—he quickly waved his arm in the general direction of Lienne and Rian behind him—“are my friends. They’re only here because they were looking for me. So please. If you know what Queen Vayra did was wrong, then just let us leave here peacefully. We never did anything to any of you, so why can’t you just let me and my friends go?”
His words clearly stirred the Elves. It was plainly visible from the way their lips parted with uncertainty. After a short pause, one of the green-cloaked men wielding a large, curved staff moved forward so that he stood directly by the side of the red-haired woman. “Merienel,” he said, his voice only a few decibels above a whisper, “our orders said nothing about random humans. We are not honor-bound to arrest them.”
“I concur,” said the white-cloaked Elf with the massive sword. He turned his head to look at the green-cloaked woman. “Merienel, we shouldst alloweth the humans passage unbarred."
The other Elves all chimed in with agreement at the same time, and for just the shortest of instants, Zach relaxed, believing that he might have actually pulled it off. But then he again tensed as his hopes were not only dashed, but set on fire and exploded. The woman, whose name Zach now believed was “Merienel,” again lifted her weapon threateningly and pointed it at him. She was close enough now that if she took even a single step forward, the weapon would make contact with Zach’s skin.
“We cannot let him go,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“But why?” asked a green-cloaked Elf wielding a dagger in each of his hands. “It’s not a violation of our honor.”
“It is,” she said.
“How so?”
“Because he’s alive,” she said.
The other five Elves shifted their eyes to look at one another as though puzzled. It was the same expression that both Rian and Lienne wore on their faces as well. As if sensing her point had not gotten across, she made a slight motion with her spear as if to gesture at Zach.
“Everyone who was there confirmed his death,” she said, a tightness entering into her eyes. “And yet he lives. Tell me: how can that be?”
Zach swallowed nervously as understanding popped into the eyes of her compatriots one by one. Within just a few seconds, all were staring at him with a ferocity that had not been present until just then. “The vampire,” said the staff-wielding, green-cloaked Elf. “He’s in league with Count Olivir Soloux!”
Pursing his lips and trying to put the stupidest expression on his face that was humanely possible, Zach asked, “Who?”
“Do not deceive us, you filthy humans!” Merienel shouted. “We know that you—”
“Excuse me?” fired in Lienne, stepping in front of her brother so that she stood by Zach’s side. There was an even greater intensity in her eyes now than there were in the Elves’. Her shoulders were trembling, and the scowl on her face radiated an anger that he had never before seen from her. “I love how you think you can just call us ‘filthy humans’ like that’s something we should just accept. Because you’re totally just such a ‘victim,’ right?” She pointed angrily at the woman. Zach did not know how to react. He was actually stunned. There was so much rage in Lienne that her finger actually shook as she continued to point and speak.
“Maybe, instead of insulting our humanity, you should shut your fucking mouth, you violent, uncivilized Elvish animal.”
“What did you say?” the woman roared, gripping her weapon even more tightly. “You disgusting, vile humans!”
“Oh, really? We’re the vile ones?” Lienne shouted back. “You’re the one who attacked us just for being born human. I’m really sick of humans being treated like dirt because of Elvish lies and smears.”
“Lies…and smears,” Merienel repeated with a note of utter outrage and disbelief. “Like what? That you’re a genocidal species of warmongering, prejudiced fools who would probably be killing off one another if you didn’t have so many other races around to hate?”
Lienne laughed derisively. “It looks like someone borrowed their talking points from the orcs.”
“It’s called a historical fact, human. I lived through it! My mother was executed in front of me when I was an eleven-year-old girl.”
“Oh, Gods,” Rian moaned, burying his face shamefully into his hands. “Li, for the love of the Goddess, please do not get into a political argument with the fucking Elvish military people! Are you kidding me, Li?”
“No!” Lienne shouted back. “I’m tired of this, Rian.”
“How about I shut that human mouth of yours permanently, you wretched creature!” the Elvish woman asked.
Lienne twisted her lips angrily, and then she said it.
She actually said it.
A moment before she said it, Zach, sensing things were getting out of hand, tried to place a hand on Lienne’s shoulder to signal for her to maybe ease off a bit. This was only making a bad situation even worse. Yet before he could, Lienne said something so terrible that it left even Zach stunned—and likely Rian, too. From the moment her next few words were spoken, any chance of peaceful negotiation died a thousand deaths. Though, in fairness, things were looking pretty bad by that point. Even still, it didn’t excuse what she chose to say.
Because she went there. She went there in a way that Zach honestly did not think she was capable of. He thought she was better than that. Maybe she was just really angry. Maybe she was just speaking out of fear. But she well and truly crossed the line as she straightened her back, coldly locked eyes with the spear-wielding Elvish woman, and then said the one thing no human should ever say.
“You know what?” she shouted furiously. “Peter IV was right.”
The collective gasp from the six Elvish scouts followed by the immediate, intensely angry scowls that popped up onto every face told Zach everything he needed to know. Almost as though they couldn’t believe what they’d heard with their own, angrily twitching ears, the Elves glanced at one another to be sure that they had really heard the thing they’d just heard. Even Rian glared at his sister, who by the look of shame on her own face, knew she must have gone too far. If they weren’t already, they were in big trouble now.
“Well, you tried,” said a voice from above and to Zach’s left.
A moment later, three shadows gave way to three falling forms as Olivir, Kolona, and Grundor leapt down, their mounts vanishing the moment they slid out of the saddle. Kolona and Olivir landed right beside Zach, and Grundor dropped down a bit off to his left. Immediately, the confusion among the Elves, Rian, and Lienne all seemed to increase tenfold. Rian demanded to know who “these people” were, as did Lienne, who alternated between glancing at, what to her, must have seemed like a random high-level zombie, an extremely well-dressed vampire, and an Elvish girl who she probably mistook for Kalana.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Kolona scolded her. “That was really hurtful.”
“S-sorry,” Lienne whispered, clearly too confused to argue.
A temporary stupor seemed to settle over the Elvish scouts, though it was sadly short-lived. As though waking up from a surreal dream, the Elvish woman shook her head, widened her eyes, and shouted, “There she is! It’s Kolona! We found her!”
“You also found me,” Olivir said. He extended his arms widely, and Zach flinched as an explosion caused a massive chunk of dirt and soil to shoot up from the ground just behind the six Elves as a gigantic, earth-shatteringly huge being of some sort slithered up out of the ground and continued to rise higher and higher into the air as though stretching itself and becoming longer.
It took Zach a moment to realize what he was even seeing. From the point of the explosion up to about fifty feet in the air was a pillar of pure black energy that, despite being darker than the darkest of nights, somehow seemed to radiate an eerie, glowing light. Glancing upwards a bit, Zach then realized that it was not a pillar after all: but a shadow-like arm, on top of which was a hand containing five fingers. It was also slightly transparent in a ghostly, unsettling way, and every so often, it seemed to almost, but not quite fade out of existence, constantly shifting between perfectly solid object and ghostly apparition. The hand portion of it was also very large: so much so that Zach estimated the width of it had to be equal to three doors side by side.
“What is that?” shouted the Elvish woman, spinning around to face it—as did all five others. No sooner had she asked the question than another loud bang came from the opposite side of the path, this one behind Zach. It was so sudden and so unexpected that he raised his arms defensively, bent his knees, and tucked his head down somewhat out of sheer surprise. Lienne and Rian also had similar, startled reactions.
Now, following a glance over his shoulder, Zach saw that there were two of these gigantic, tentacle-like arms sticking out of the ground—and then they moved in unison. With a speed that Zach neither expected nor could he have predicted, the two phantom-like arms crashed down and slapped the ground where the Elves had been standing with such incredible force that he was forced to raise his arms to shield himself from the resulting blast of dirt and rocks that would have gotten in his eyes, nose, and mouth.
Somehow, however, the Elves appeared to escape. This, Zach deduced when he lowered his arms and saw that they were no longer present. All that remained was a depression in the ground where the two hands hand slapped. Other than that, there was no sign of the Elves. They must have scattered at an unimaginable speed, reminding Zach that this was a battle that was totally out of his league. As fast and surprising as that attack had been, the Elves had still all managed to avoid it.
No! Not all of them, he realized with a gasp.
One of the Elves was still there, Zach now saw. Nearly thirty feet above ground and trapped inside the gigantic, ghostly hands, there was a white-cloaked Elf whose eyes had gone wide with fear. The rear hand had become snapped shut into a tight grip that, from the Elvish scout’s shouts of pain, must have been crushing his pelvis and upper legs. And the other hauntingly black, glowing, and semi-transparent hand was gripped tightly around his upper chest and part of his midsection. Screaming and crying for help, the white-cloaked Elf began beating his fists desperately against the plank-sized index finger of the ghost-like appendage, but it was to no avail. Then his cries went from pained to blood-curdling as both hands began to pull and tug in completely opposite directions. Zach knew immediately what Olivir intended to do.
“No!” Zach screamed. “Olivir, please! Don’t!”
It was too late. Olivir made a gesture with his arms, pulling them even more widely apart. Then there was a scream so loud and awful that Zach trembled just at the sound of it, and on the heels of this scream came a horrific-sounding tear, along with a subsequent series of snaps. Before Zach’s very eyes, the white-cloaked Elf was ripped into two halves: literally pulled apart into two pieces. His guts, intestines, and enough blood to fill a large bucket rained down on top of the pathway, creating a disgusting thwop sound each time more of his innards fell from one of the two halves and landed onto the dirt.
"That's one," the vampire said.
Zach held his breath. Why did it have to be this way? Now, things were about to turn really bloody.