Book 1: Chapter 46 - The Wailing Death [Part 1]
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The true adventurer goes forth aimless and uncalculating to meet and greet unknown fate.
- O. Henry.
Frest opened fire with his heavy crossbow, instantly dropping one of the shambling Undead with a bolt through its skull. Seraphina could not help but admire his professionalism and uncanny accuracy. It was hardly a knightly weapon, but he wielded it with such near-magical skill that she wondered if it might be tied to his Path. After all, guiding projectiles with a sliver of Mana was one of the game’s more “advanced” techniques.
Handing her sword off to Miriam, Seraphina loaded a handful of smooth river stones into her sling. Then she unleashed them with a furious rhythm, barely needing to aim against the teeming horde. Many stones simply passed through rotting flesh without even halting the Undead. Still, a good number sheared off limbs with gory explosions, leaving some zombies crawling pathetically across the ground. On rare occasions, a stone pierced a skull, killing its target instantly.
You have slain a Zombie 40 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 37 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 35 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 39 experience gained.
It was easy enough to grab more stones and keep firing. The horde, which might have spelled doom for a normal party of adventurers, was no match for Seraphina’s modified weapon.
Growing bored, she closed her eyes and stilled her breathing, making a game of “guessing” the zombies’ positions by sound and movement alone. Of course, their sheer numbers and her sling’s indiscriminate nature meant she hardly had to rely on her senses at all.
You have slain a Zombie 31 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 30 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 33 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 35 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 32 experience gained.
Seraphina continued her onslaught, taking a grim toll on the slow-moving Undead. Some of the crawlers managed to reach their position, and her companions were now busy finishing them off. It almost looked like they were putting the zombies out of their misery—especially Eloise, who grimaced and looked away each time she ended a zombie’s unlife with a thrust of her spear.
They were too close now for the projectile weapon.
Hooking her sling to her belt, she took her sword back from Miriam and sprang into the fray, tearing through the Undead. Her raw power reduced the shambling corpses to little more than piles of lifeless, rotting meat. Closing her eyes, she swung randomly in their general direction. Experimentally, she used Power Strike to enhance one of her blows.
You have slain a Zombie 5 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 5 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 6 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 4 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 8 experience gained.
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You have learned Swords (lvl.4)
You have learned Power Strike (lvl.2)
The increase in the Swords was welcome, but it was not exactly what she wanted. The blade in her hand felt more comfortable with the increase in Skill, and she drew confidence from its solid steel. She sliced through a few more zombies, her sword a flashing glint. Still, this was not it.
Determined, with eyes still closed she tried to focus, using her other senses to locate the Undead. Their moans guided her, making it child's play to cut them down. And then, at last, Seraphina got what she'd been hoping for:
You have slain a Zombie 26 experience gained.
You have slain a Zombie 24 experience gained.
You have learned Blind Fighting (lvl.1)
A laugh of pure delight escaped her—an unsettling sound in such grim circumstances—while a wild grin spread across her face.
She kept one eye on her Stamina, aware of her weakness in that area. Seraphina knew she could overcome it by investing a few more points into her physical attributes. Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution each bolstered Stamina, though Constitution offered the most per point. Still, even adding to Strength would help her as it would make any task or attack demand less effort. That thought flitted through her mind as she cleaved the heads off two more zombies. She dismissed the notifications as they came, already bored with their repetitive announcements.
image [https://i.imgur.com/U7sea7N.png]
They had broken the back of the horde, or more correctly, Seraphina had, and only a few stray zombies still lurched about now. It took just a few more minutes for her party to finish the job, earning everyone a modest sprinkling of experience. The aftermath was a sorry sight of rotted limbs and various body parts sticking out of the stained waters.
Seraphina felt tempted to plant her sword in the riverbed and lean against it, but the image of Kellen’s disapproving glare stopped her. The poor blade had already suffered enough, slicing through scores of decomposing flesh and splintered bone. At least she would not be the one scrubbing it clean afterward or grinding its edge.
She turned her thoughts toward the next, more unsettling stage of this Trial. By now, she was well on her way to a new level and the power that would bring—defeating the dungeon’s boss would practically guarantee it.
“Take a moment to rest,” Seraphina said, pitching her voice so it carried over the hushed burble of the shallow river. “And take satisfaction in knowing we’ve granted the unquiet dead a measure of peace.”
Frest’s eyes, still jittery from the recent battle, swept over the carnage. “You sure this lot’ll stay down?” he asked, his concern obvious.
Seraphina placed a hand on her hip and tossed her hair primly. “They’d find it difficult to stand after all the bludgeoning and cutting we put them through.”
“But shouldn’t we offer some kind of last rites? Something to lay their souls to rest?” Frest persisted.
Eloise—her face pale and haunted like a fragile porcelain doll—lifted her chin. “This is a trial of the Goddess. I believe our victory is enough to guide them to her light.”
“Exactly,” Seraphina said with a warm smile. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need a moment. The next part will be… taxing.”
Miriam, her spectacles slightly askew, pressed a hand to Seraphina’s shoulder. “Will you be all right, milady? And with words like that, I assume you know precisely what we’re up against?”
“Yes, do tell, Lady Seraphina,” the de Laney girl added. She still looked shell-shocked from her brush with the Undead, her breath coming in tremulous little gulps.
With a dramatic flair, Seraphina flicked her wrist. “I’m to face one of the Keening Washerwomen of the Dead. A Banshee… though I wonder if they’re truly Undead or some manner of Fae.”
Eloise exhaled shakily, muttering a brief prayer. The quiet hush that followed underscored the gravity of the revelation.
Sir Clarendon simply shrugged as if this was just another day for him. He had served Seraphina’s father and had been in crazier situations than this. It was not his role to question his mistress.
Frest’s eyes widened in alarm. “A Banshee? No wonder everyone else who’s tried this trial failed. No wonder those adventurers preferred to face the steel of your father’s knights! We need to get out of here…” He looked ready to bolt on the spot, panic creeping into his voice. “Gotta get out…”
“Pull yourself together, Sergeant,” Seraphina commanded firmly. “I wouldn’t have brought us here if I didn’t have a plan. And you won’t be facing this creature—I will. Me, and me alone.”
“But Lady Seraphina—” Miriam began, her voice laced with worry for her mistress rather than herself.
Seraphina silenced further objections with a resolute look, drawing herself up and giving them all the confidence they needed—whether they believed her or not. This Trial, though perilous, had to be faced. And only she could do it. Like everything else in life, the young girl intended to face it head-on.
“Your worry is touching, but unneeded. I am more than well equipped to deal with this Banshee,” the young noblewoman stated confidently. “Have I ever led you wrong thus far?”
The rest of the party all looked like they wanted to say something, but decided against it. This was in part due to the hopelessness of the situation and also in part having just been beaten about by the raw force of the girl’s personality. And at this stage, what good would an objection do anyway? they all thought to themselves.
“Frest and Sir Clarendon, stay here and protect the girls. After I defeat the Banshee we will all be exited from the Trial together. I will see you all soon and we can have a nice evening meal together,” Seraphina commanded sweetly.
“As you say, milady,” Sir Clarendon accepted, smacking his breastplate with a gauntleted fist. Frest followed him a moment later. “Good hunting.”
“I do so hope so. Perhaps, there might even be a spot of resistance. It has truly been rather too easy so far!” the young lady declared with an easy smile, hoping to instill some confidence in her people.