Cap 8
PLAGUE
"Soon! Hurry up! Flee!"
A Bearman clad in thick silver plate armor bellowed directions to a desperate crowd, as he tried with all his might to stop chaos from spreading through the streets of the capital.
"Don't panic. We will protect you with all our might! Come on! Come on!"
A young man was desperately trying to make his way through the ranks of the infernal crush. His legs were slowed by blisters formed after an exhausting walk that made every small step a feat worthy of being celebrated in the songs of the minstrels. Hesitating and panting, he devoted all the few energies of his body to squeeze through the thick physiques of the demihumans who were thronging the streets of Draton. Shelling like a mollusk, his thoughts were dominated by a single, strong emotion.
I'm scared! I'm scared! I'm scared!
A roar of loathing thundered across the firmament with the explosive force of a hundred incandescent suns.
"Filth of the Dragon Emperor! Filth of the Dragon Emperor! Die! Die! Die!"
Those who were once the rulers of the world, guardians of power and ancestral knowledge, now had to deal with the newcomers in the food chain. Despite their titanic features, they looked like docile little lambs compared to the eight figures that now besieged the jewel of the dragon empire.
"There is no time to lose! Go this way!"
I don't want to die! I don't want to die!
The boy continued to trudge while desperately expanding all his forces to secure a place as far away from that disaster as possible.
Kaboom!
An explosion crept into his eardrums like the shattering charge of an army of heavy cavalry.
A few tens of kilometers from his position, two gigantic corpses had fallen on the splendid buildings that adorned the city center like a shining diamond. What was once a beaming example of glitter and wealth had now given way to crumbling debris.
The markets, until a few hours before the central scene of social life and culture, carefully guarded the lifeless bodies of the innocents captured in the conflict.
The guards of the city militia were imposing an iron discipline to make the evacuation as safe as possible, or at least tried to, in the last attempt not to give in to hopelessness. Most of their numbers were currently employed for battle against the invaders.
An army covered in precious materials and armed with the most modern and priceless equipment in the world. A coalition of all races: trolls, hobgoblins, elves, humans, demihumans, insectoids, dwarfs, heteromorphs, giants, dragons, and countless other species whose number was comparable to the number of grains of sand in the desert. The last defense against a ruthless subjugation that had upset the balance of the planet in just a handful of months.
After only a few minutes, what stood with honor and pride as the last hope against the invaders was reduced to a hodgepodge of a few survivors, who tried with the last remnants of their strength to recover what could be saved.
"We're almost at the eastern gate! One last effort! Courage!"
A lizardman bellowed words of encouragement to the confused crowd. His breath had taken on the intensity of a brass trumpet.
A second roar.
"Oh no!"
Krash!
A fire meteor struck a few hundred meters away from their position causing a frightening shock wave. Most of the inhabitants, who until a few moments before had clung to the faint hope of the possibility of escaping from that horror, were now reduced to blackish ash that spread in the atmosphere.
The boy had barely escaped, using the more imposing bodies of the other desperate men as a shield. Despite this, he had been forcefully thrown tens of meters against what was once a craft shop.
His body, already normally debilitated from his condition, was a concert of distress. Every fiber of his being begged him to let go and close his eyes, in order to finally be able to grasp that longed-for rest.
I can't die now! I can do it; I can do it!
He got up. Breathing had become a challenge for his lungs. The nauseating stench of scattered corpses entered his nostrils with unwanted force.
"Coff, coff, coff!"
An aroma somewhere between rotten eggs and spoiled fish, with a hint of that flatulence reminiscent of cabbage left to rot for more than two months, made him wish he had a blade with which to cut his nose so he could say goodbye to the sense of smell.
He took a few steps before collapsing to the ground. His eyes met the lifeless gaze of a Foxman knight who watched him in wonder. She seemed to be asking him for what cruel twist of fate it was possible that she had ended up in that terrible status.
Am I about to end up the same way too? Is this my destiny?
The boy continued to stare into those dull eyes devoid of any spark for an answer to his inquiries. Anything would have been fine. Even the deafening noise of the crowd, that rumbled along its path until a few minutes ago, had been replaced by an oppressive silence.
Is the battle already over? I don't see anyone anymore.
Kroop!
A drop of a strange liquid caressed his cheek.
What the hell is that?
Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop! Kroop!
A torrent of something vaguely like water began to descend upon the earth. In the beginning, dripping with minimal intensity and then, with a daring impetus, pouring over him and the surrounding area.
This is… this is blood!
He raised his eyes to the sky and saw him: cloaked in a reddish light, similar to that of the sundown. A fencer had gracefully and skillfully impaled the body of one of his foes.
A dragon covered in jade-colored scales had begun to ooze opaque fluids profusely from its wounded chest. A cry of pain echoed in the celestial vault; combined with what seemed to be vicious and inappropriate laughter, it gave the impression that a capricious deity was making fun of him, mocking him for his struggles.
Frost covered the soul of the boy, who gathered his last ounce of strength to avoid that excruciating cascade of suffering.
The aggressor used the dragon's body as a table for his diabolical experiments, to satisfy his reprobate curiosity: internal organs and body parts began to be scattered randomly around the town, just like a child unwillingly gets rid of a plaything that by now he's fed up with.
Veins and blood vessels decorated the neighborhood with a glowing red that had begun to take on the shine of a sparkling ruby.
A remnant of a colossal paw nearly reduced it to a shapeless lump of jelly. The misshapen and incomplete image of what was once part of a coherent whole, joined by the river of viscera that accompanied it, revolted him beyond belief.
Despite his resistance, he had to stop for a moment to vomit.
How disgusting! I cannot handle it anymore! I cannot handle it anymore!
The boy felt he had reached his limit. Nothing mattered anymore. Yeah. Oblivion didn't seem so bad now. At least he wouldn't suffer anymore. At least he would stop being scared and his tribulations would finally end.
Yes, it's perfect like this! I'm so tired!
"Boy, you're still alive! Incredible! It's a miracle!"
An unknown voice brought him back to reality. A man cloaked in a white coat was standing next to him, listening to his pulse.
"Can you walk? No, I guess not. Wait, I'll spread a healing potion on you to restore some of your lost vitality."
A greenish light covered his body making him regain his stamina little by little. He felt invigorated, even if in part he still had an unpleasant feeling of debilitation that persistently endured in his bones.
"We have to get away from here quickly. Come on, come with me!"
The stranger led him in a different direction than they had been heading before.
"Wait, where are we going? I thought the east gate was the safest way out."
"It was completely razed to the ground! One of the invaders hurled a handful of ice giants into that area. It's all completely blocked by their dead bodies."
"And where are we going, then? I thought the tusk district had been overrun by enemy armies. Those horrifying golems were bringing death to every man, woman, and child they could spot."
"A few kilometers from here there is an underground underpass that hasn't been used for many years. It's not very safe but right now it's our only chance of salvation. Careful!"
A flame awoke a few steps from the street they had taken. Fiery sparks began to explode violently as the air became increasingly thin.
"Damn! OK, let's go. We will have to deviate for a few minutes but there is no other solution. Try to keep up. I know it's hard but don't panic. We can do it!"
The pair began to sneak into one of the narrowest alleys, with barely enough room to walk freely.
"Who are you? And why did you help me?"
Talking in this situation was far from the savviest thing to do. But it was the only way to avoid thinking about the cries of misery and anguish that echoed through the streets with a disturbing naturalness.
"My name is Kunivela. I was a medic caring for troops wounded in battle."
"And why are you here now, shouldn't you be assisting the soldiers who are fighting?"
"Fighting? My boy, the fight, if it can be called a fight, lasted a few minutes at most. Not only are those eight kings so strong that they can afford to play tag with a Dragon Lord without breaking a sweat. But their subordinates are also beasts of the worst kind.
Do you know how large our army was? Two hundred thousand heavy infantry, one hundred and fifty thousand armored horsemen, plus another hundred thousand including members of races that could not be assigned to a specific division such as bug riders, thunder giants, or bloody manticores.
All with years of experience in the empire, all equipped with the best weapons and magical items. Do you know how long they lasted? A couple of minutes after the start of the battle ninety percent of the army had been annihilated, the remainder either fled or lined up alongside the dragon lords for a last, frantic attempt. But I'm convinced it's only a matter of minutes before this metropolis is burned to ashes. We had no hope from the start. We should have given up."
Give up. They both knew that the old rulers would never agree to lick the boots of new majesties. Since the old emperor had died, and the prince had decided to abandon his kingdom and his position, the realm had undergone a slow and progressive decline. The remaining Dragon Lords had clung to a stale idea of greatness that was destined, inexorably, to wither.
If when the war began, they had all decided to work together to concentrate on a single attack, perhaps things could have gone differently. But, in their egotism, they had thought it impossible that there could ever be beings capable of challenging their dominance. Until their numbers dwindled, little by little, while their rivals were still at full strength.
And now it was up to them to pay the price for their pride.
"How much… how much further is it? I feel my legs starting to give out again!"
"Not much yet. See that structure over there?" Kunivela said, pointing to a half-destroyed building in the distance. "It's the city's water station. We will use it to descend into the sewers and reach the tunnel we are looking for. And… what the fuck is that?"
An insect-like aberration darted through the skies of the capital: its impressive size was made even more frightening by the incalculable number of slimy legs that moved with ramshackle movements on the sides of its body. Its eyes glowed a deep cobalt blue, glistening with a blinding light while its carapace was coated in an oily substance, dripping an unknown, stinking fluid.
In his hands, he held a stick made entirely of bone decorated at the tip with a human cranium.
Stopping in a plaza where some confused survivors had gathered, he stuck his creepy cane into the ground: a swarm of locusts, beetles, moths, flies, and other insects began to spread among what would soon become their meal.
The unfortunate didn't even have time to process what was happening, before seeing their flesh slowly devoured to the bone by that pestilential horde. They didn't suffer, at least not too much, as they were quickly consumed by those little creatures. Their remains seemed to have finally found serenity.
"Enough, enough, enough! I cannot handle it anymore! Maybe we'll have to kill ourselves before some other hellish being captures us"
Slap.
"Don't be silly, if we keep going down these back paths, we'll be able to avoid it. This is not the time to let yourself get down!"
"How can you be so optimistic? Can't you see that everyone is dying?"
"If I weren't as optimistic as you say, I would have no hope of surviving. Now, if you want to come with me, fine. Otherwise, I can very well continue alone."
The boy realized he had no other choice, and resumed his frantic run together with the medic.
"Here we are. See? We almost made it."
After a few minutes that had seemed endless, the two had reached the doors of the hydraulic station. Little was left of the upper part of the building, but the door was miraculously still intact.
"Come on, help me push!"
With a bit of effort, they managed to throw open the door and enter the main hall.
"Okay, if we move to the right, we should find the entrance!"
By now they had almost made it, they nearly found access to the sewers without problems when…
Boom!
Another explosion.
A girder from the station collapsed on top of them.
Kunivela found his companion's lower body completely crushed by the piece of refined timber.
The boy tried to pull him out of there, but his strength was insufficient to save him. He tried and tried again, but to no avail.
"Everything will collapse here soon. Go on without me! You will find the tunnel after walking about five hundred meters. Good luck! Make sure you do it!"
"But…"
"Go!"
Without looking back, he descended the iron stairs that led to the underground channels.
Sorrow for abandoning his benefactor began to consume him, but he could not find a viable solution to get him out of that bad situation without risking ending up crushed too.
Compared to those on the surface, the smells of garbage and waste seemed almost a relief. The echoes of the battle were muffled by the marble-brick division of the sewer; although not completely gone, the boy's hearing could finally have a moment of relief.
The dirty water from the sewers reached below his knees; normally he would have been disgusted by it, but now he was totally indifferent to it.
That must be the tunnel I was looking for.
After a few hundred paces a small cave dug into the gravel rose into view.
It was barely wide enough for a person of average height like him, so he decided to crawl across it on his legs to move more easily.
He lost count of the time it took him to get out of there. Step by step he felt more and more terrified that everything would collapse on him at any instant.
He came out on a small abandoned field, not far from the base of a knoll.
Searching for a waypoint to pinpoint his current location, the boy came across a small hill. After having climbed most of it, he was able to observe the city of Draton. Or what remained of it.
What was once the nidus of civilization, home to more than ten million people, now looked like an old abandoned ruin whose ravages had covered what was once a glittering majesty.
The passage of time had left its mark in a fraction of what it normally would have taken.
A coincidence, nothing more, nothing less. That's the only reason I saved myself while everyone else perished.
As he got as far away from that place as possible, only one thought rumbled in his head.
I will not die. I will defeat death and surpass the gods. Never again will I be a frightened lamb like today. Never again!
The Dragon's Empire came to an end.
A new dawn rose on the horizon.
Lower Wind Month, 8th day, 17.00
"So, what do we do with these captives?"
In all, Antilene and her group had captured twenty cultists, three of whom had been identified as superiors of the organization. Of these three, only one was still conscious at the time and able to answer their questions.
"I sent a message to the nearest city guard. They'll be here in a couple of hours with a support troop to pick up these fanatics. Then the inquisitors will take care of extorting all the information we need from them." Buvesez reported as he continued to tie up some of the still-stunned bodies.
"We cannot afford to wait that long. Knowing their accomplices are at the fort we absolutely cannot let them escape." Kapitel continued to pass a healing potion on his wounded arm. Even if the blood had stopped flowing and the pain was almost completely gone, he still felt a stiffness in his muscles due to the cut received by the Death Knight.
"For now, let's get all the information we can from this still-awake executive." Antilene pointed to poor Yale, who in response began to take on a yellowish tint. "Once we have more clarity on the situation, we will be able to establish how to proceed."
"Ok, bald head. Are you going to cooperate or should we use more persuasive arguments?" Campeao aimed her sword at the neck of the cultist of Zurrernorn who stood for a moment puzzled to determine what was the most prudent action move to make.
But as the half-elf approached him, all his machinations were replaced by a more serene resignation.
"I'll talk, I'll talk! Tell me what you want to know."
"Good," Rosalie said as she inspected the confiscated equipment. "Why don't you start by explaining what kind of magic you used to turn so many people undead? I don't think you bothered killing them one by one and then using their bodies as summoning materials."
"It wasn't us. When we arrived in this bad place all the inhabitants of the place were already reduced to that condition. We just controlled them with domination spells."
"So, you're saying that you just took advantage of a situation caused by someone else?" Antilene asked. The possibility that there was another mastermind behind that matter further complicated things. As if they weren't already having a headache at the moment.
"Yup. That's it! The only people we killed were those troopers from the rescue team. I swear!"
"And rest assured that you will pay for that crime!" Kapitel was starting to lose his temper at the absurdity of the situation, but kept his composure to avoid cutting into what he considered human crap.
"But if all this isn't your doing," he continued, "then whose is it? You don't want to tell me that you just happened to be in these areas by coincidence."
"That's what we're trying to find out," Yale replied. "Our leader received a report of strange happenings from one of our infiltrators a few weeks ago. He rounded up all the executives available at the moment and brought us here."
"What caught his attention so much? What is it in particular that he hopes to accomplish?" Buvesez questioned him in a flat, calm tone of voice.
"I can't tell you that."
"Did you suddenly become brave? If you think we're just going to kill you, you're very wrong. We're spoiled for choice to find the perfect way to make you spit it out!" The paladin's blade began to tickle his neck, while Campeao's expression took on a mocking and self-confident air.
"No, I meant no disrespect. When I say I can't tell you, it's because I'm really unable to. Each higher-ranking member of the cult is imprinted with magic programmed to activate if they share sensitive information with strangers. The moment I start apprising you of everything I know, my head will explode like a firework. I assure you, it would not be a good show."
"What do you say Buvesez, Rosalie? Do you think he's conveying the truth?"
"Um. We also use similar spells to protect our operatives' valuable data." The divine caster mused aloud.
"However," Rosalie interjected, "we also can't discount the possibility that it's just a well-crafted lie to buy time."
"Are you lying to us? Or can we trust you?" Antilene scrutinized the necromancer with her heterochromatic gazes.
Yale began to sweat even more profusely: now reduced to a pool of shame, even more bodily juice begged to be expelled.
"Nono, my lady. May the gods strike me now if I dare deceive you."
"I believe him. He should know by now that they have no hope against me. And my Inquisitor skills make me aware when a non-believer tries to deceive me. I doubt he's a staunch follower of the 6 Great Gods, am I right?"
She gave the man a sweet smile to make him feel at ease, but their prisoner began to fidget even more flamboyantly, unashamed of the pitiful show he was performing.
"Yes, my lady! Absolutely, my lady! I am only your humble slave, ready to do anything to fulfill your wishes. If I could take off these fictitious chains that prevent me from uttering a word, I would do it immediately to satisfy your requests. Just don't hurt me, please!"
I show them some kindness and it seems I'm taking them to the gallows for execution. Bah, at least the results come anyway.
"Is it feasible to remove this spell now, anyway?"
"Hmm, for sure I could try. But it will still be a few hours before I figure out how it works, and neutralizing it will take even longer."
Buvesez shrugged in defeat. If they wanted to strike Zurrernorn in the heart, they didn't have to waste even the slightest moment.
"In short, we have nothing in our hands. What a bothersome situation! If we depart now, we may be at the fort before dark, but the question remains of what to do with these men we have captured."
"While reinforcements are arriving, we certainly can't leave them here alone."
"I have an idea!" exclaimed the half-elf. "We break their arms and legs so they can't move."
"It's an alternative that could work, but we always run the risk that they have some means of healing themselves even if they are immobilized."
"Leave it to me. I can cast a spell that will keep them asleep for at least half a day. I doubt they have any suitable countermeasures to dispel it, given their magical items and capabilities."
Rosalie's proposal was judged the most prudent, though obviously not risk-free. Nevertheless, the possibility of being able to eliminate the leader of the death cult took precedence over the small fish that could provide them with very little information.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Before finishing her preparations, Antilene spoke one last time to the man she had captured.
"Tell me, who do you think is stronger between me and your boss? I don't think a vague answer like this can trigger that magic."
Yale brooded for a few moments, as he analyzed the battle capabilities of his interlocutor and of the master who had taught him everything.
"You are strong. Stronger than any human I've ever seen in my life. But my lord is not amenable to the common dictates of reason. His magical abilities surpass common sense. His expertise has been honed by centuries of hard discipline and relentless practice. If you manage to give him a scratch, you could be counted as one of the greatest heroes humankind has ever seen. No, I don't think you could beat him. My advice is to withdraw now while there is still time before being wiped out."
"Oh, you could have taken advantage of that to get me to attack blindly. Instead, you decided to give me honest advice. Why?"
It was a common strategy to lure the enemy into a false sense of security before they were aware of the gap in strength, to trap them in a web from which they could not extricate themselves.
Yet his warning seemed genuine to me. Is there something else he is hiding? Or perhaps he doesn't want to admit to himself that there is anyone capable of defeating his adored object of devotion?
Faced with a truth that was too hard to accept, it was natural for human beings to lie to themselves and try to rationalize something they would have considered impossible just a few hours ago.
A surefire way to keep your sanity firmly in place. It was a mechanism the half-elf had seen more than once during her training sessions with the new Black Scripture recruits.
"Now that I have failed to kill you, there is no chance left for me and the others to return to the ranks of the organization. Zurrernorn does not give second chances. I know I don't want to end up mangled to be part of horrendous experiments concerning human flesh, so I have no choice but to entrust myself to you. As undesirable as that is to me."
Oh, so this guy really thinks his leader is stronger than me? Interesting! I can't let my guard down, but maybe finally I can have some fun too!
A gleeful grin crept across her face.
Yale thought in his heart that perhaps the outcome was not as obvious as he believed, after all.
The sun's rays began to withdraw after the hard work of the day, while the darkness of the night began to peep over the fortress of Ferrum Castro.
Built entirely of beaten rock, some tier 3 enchantments had been applied to reinforce its foundations and ensure its solidity.
The walls had internal and external pomerium. It was a flat strip of land just inside or outside the walls. The external pomerium, clear of bushes and houses, offered the defenders an unobstructed view of what was happening outside. An internal pomerium guaranteed quick access to the curtain wall, facilitating movement by the garrison.
Equipped with two circles of fortifications with curtains, bulwarks, moat, and ravelins to protect the three entrance gates to the city, it was conceived above all as a war machine: the number of bastions and the length of the sides was established based on the range of the spells most common of the time.
The circular shape was kept inside a small miniature town, equipped with all the structures and equipment necessary to guarantee its defenders a life as comfortable as possible.
A group of four was shrouded in the shade of a forest a few miles away. They were impatiently awaiting the return of their scout comrade to evaluate what might be the best strategy to begin their assault.
"Here he comes!" Campeao said, pointing her finger to a figure that was becoming clearer on the horizon.
"Do you bring good news?" Buvesez didn't even wait for the ranger to settle down to start asking him what everyone was eagerly waiting for.
"I would like to say yes," Kapitel began, "but unfortunately the reality is not so helpful. First, I don't think scaling one of those walls should be a problem for anyone here. So, we can at least sneak into the first circle without too much trouble. But the issues come now. First, I spotted several magical traps ready to spring at our slightest movement, and it wouldn't surprise me if my [Detector] skill skipped a few."
"So, there isn't even a point on which we can rely to be able to go back without problems?"
"No, I found some uncovered areas. But now comes the challenging part. They positioned some men to stand guard, as was to be expected. By themselves, it wouldn't be much of a concern. But it seems incredible to me to say, they also have elder liches at their disposal. An elementary, but effective trap. If we want to catch them by surprise, we will have to be able to annihilate them all at once without giving them time to alert the others."
"It doesn't surprise me that they also have creatures like that. After all, if they had two Death Knights in their ranks, we should expect any kind of undead lurking in the shadows."
Rosalie tried to keep as calm as possible, but a bead of sweat that began to roll down the right side of her forehead revealed what her true feelings were.
"Anyway," she continued, "how many of them did you count in all?"
"Six."
"Kill six elder liches simultaneously with one hit. Nothing easier!" Campeao clamored. No, it wasn't at all. Not under normal conditions, at least.
"I don't think there should be any big troubles for me. Let me handle it!" Antilene stepped forward. Hers was not pride. If she had dispatched two Death Knights effortlessly, the elder liches in front were nothing more than just tiny chicks waiting to be devoured by the cunning fox.
"I do not doubt that a single elder lich is at best a speck of dust waiting to be nonchalantly swept up for you, Lady Zesshi. The problem is that they are scattered in different locations and we don't have enough firepower to complete the objective. Personally, undead are the toughest opponents for my aptitudes and I'm sure I can't take one down with a single blow."
"As for me" the paladin interjected "I could use my skill [Holy Sword] in combination with some martial arts. If Buvesez grants me some buffs I think I have a good chance of making it. Unlike you, Kapitel, I am the best person suited to fight the undead."
"Should not be a problem. As for Rosalie and I, if we join forces in one instantaneous attack, perhaps we can take out another."
"There are still three left to account for plus the other human sentinels. I hate to admit it, but we must necessarily wait for reinforcements."
"No, there won't be a need."
The members of the Black Scriptures looked at the half-elf questioningly. As exceptional as she was, even she couldn't be in multiple places at once.
"You see. They expect an attack by a group of five. That's why they left some spots uncovered. They want to force us to divide ourselves and then attack us individually like trapped rats. Probably more of their followers and other summons are waiting, lingering for the right moment to overwhelm us with numbers. But there's something they can't even imagine."
"What, Lady Zesshi?" the ranger asked her.
"That we are not five. We are ten!"
"What…?"
Swish.
The elder lich didn't even have time to start the slightest reaction, that he found himself mown down by the half-elf's scythe.
Now! Go my creatures!
A cloud of pitch-black smoke began to materialize from her weapon, five skeletal soldiers covered in a cuirass breaker, a kilt-like under guard, and a helmet featuring an extended neck roll and frontal bolster were waiting for her orders. They wielded long iron javelins and carried small Argive shields of reinforced metal. The summons used by the God of Death: the Spartiate.
Let's see what it feels like when you turn on your beloved undead.
"Lady Zesshi, we are all in position. Can we start?"
"Yes, Rosalie. Let's show them what occurs to those who go against the Slaine Theocracy!"
The girl divided her followers into two groups: one of three and the other of two, and then spread them in opposite directions.
She headed for her second target, fast as the wind. A precise cut. Four were missing.
Campeao activated the martial arts [Ability Boost] [Greater Ability Boost] [Capacity Building]. Her body, invigorated by the energy discharge, was enveloped in dazzling light as she activated her magic [Holy Sword]. A ray of light covered the big sword, and a couple of slashes broke through the elder lich's defenses, reducing him to dust. Three were missing.
Rosalie closed the head of another enemy in a bubble of ice, while the rarefied air spread through his body, lowering his defenses. Buvesez used three magical arrows imbued with sacred energy to pierce the undead like a skewer. Two were missing.
The three Spartiates pounced on one of their kind. Using their blunt shields they overwhelmed him with such violence that he crumbled like plasterboard without having the slightest prospect of preparing a counterattack. Only one remained.
Kapitel stabbed two guards with a few of his stilettos while he threw a third at another guard a few feet away from him, piercing his throat through and through. The two remaining Spartiates had caught up with the last remaining cultists perched in the south wall, whom they easily dispatched by skewering them with mechanical ruthlessness using the tips of their spears.
Antilene used all her strength to not lose even a second. The eye of a normal man would not even have perceived her dash. The sight of an individual who entered the realm of heroes would only glimpse a mirage, mistaking it for a hallucination. An outlier would have had to use all of his skills just to catch a glimpse of a moving shadow.
The lich had just begun to notice something strange, when a punch of frightening power struck him full on the chest, throwing him tens of meters away from the moat that surrounded the fortress. His bones strewn about like trifles.
It's done. Now, we can get the dance started. Surshana, guide my hand as I do your bidding!
The moon had made its appearance in the sky. The stars were preparing to share their warmth. And death, death was about to start its performance. The theater was open, the macabre skit could start.
"What the hell…?"
"And what in God's name are those?"
The members of Zurrernorn were ready. They knew that the Theocracy soldiers would reach shortly. They comprehended they would have to fight some of the most capable fighters in the entire nation.
Displayed into formation, the remaining skeletal soldiers guarded the ranks of the enchanters. A few lower-class summonses were ready to shield their masters. Some of them were stationed in the buildings inside the fort, ready to trap the attackers.
Nothing could have taken them by surprise.
"I've never seen beings like that!"
"It doesn't matter, hit them with everything at your disposal!"
What they didn't imagine, what they could never have guessed in their wildest dreams, was that not only them could control undead.
Destiny works in mysterious ways. Endowed with grotesque humor, it often makes fun of men and their ambitions. Necromancers who had trampled life in search of a method to check its demise, now found themselves footing the account for their wickedness.
"Nothing! Nothing seems to work!"
"Oh Gods, they're coming here. Someone blocks them!"
Before the explosive power of the Spartiates, the summons of the cultists looked like defenseless children who, thrown into the battle for the first time, had no alternative but to attempt a desperate stronghold.
The sweeps of the pikes hoarded victims; the plunder collected was abundant.
Corrosive acid-coated arrows, fireballs, and lightning bolts barely made a dent in their defenses.
Two men were skewered.
And then a third, then a fourth.
Their ranks began to dwindle at an unceasing rate.
Another victim. Another body.
The survivors began to scatter, there was no point in continuing to resist when the hopes of survival were so slim.
A soft breath. A moan nipped in the bud.
The Spartiates had begun their hunt, determined not to leave a single survivor.
Another corpse. Too many to count.
Red had commenced painting the streets of the small town; a picture of horror was sketched with expert brushstrokes.
Etysh deflected a fatal thrust by invoking a crystal shield. However, the spear retained enough power to pierce her left side. The wound began to throb, and the senses started to depart her. The pain was unbearable and her psyche was on the verge of giving out.
What are these abominations? In years of study, I have never found the slightest trace of their existence.
Through ages of painful research, scouring dusty, abandoned libraries, and experimenting on helpless victims, she hadn't even touched upon the existence of the creatures that now stood like titans before her.
Each of them is comparable in strength to a Death Knight. And there are as many as five. It does not make sense. It doesn't make any sense!
Her opponent readied a second strike, this time she would not be able to reposition its trajectory. The woman felt the end coming, the chariot for the afterlife had prepared the mounts to take her to her new mansion.
[Skeleton Wall.] A barrier made of bones rose from the ground, dampening the shaft's power and speed. The woman narrowly avoided the beast's onslaught.
"We can't stay here, Etysh. We have to escape as soon as possible!"
Radest was short of breath with exhaustion, his right eye had been closed by a large cut across a large portion of his countenance. The wound was still fresh, and even the most casual observer would have realized that it caused him searing discomfort.
Biskek was at his side, also not in the best of shape. His arm was completely crumbled, while he respired heavily. That he was able to stand was proof of his abnormal physical abilities.
The Spartiate stood confused for a moment, pondering who his next target, his next victim, should be. Moving his body in an unnatural, almost grotesque way, he raised his weapon to the sky to bring it down on Radest's helpless body.
Biskek saved him at the last moment by throwing himself headlong on his companion. They both tumbled to the ground a few feet away as the spear drove hard into the ground.
"[Acid fog!]" Etysh summoned a mass of similar mystical vapor that would reduce the undead's speed and mobility.
"Soon. That won't retain him much longer!"
She helped her two companions to their feet and then runned with them toward one of the porticoes of the stronghold. They had spent so much time in that place, that by now she was sure she would be able to walk those avenues even with her eyes closed.
"Where are Zmarl and the boss?"
"Zmarl, I don't have the faintest idea. The chief remained at the central tower. He said he still had one more thing to do."
Radest spoke with hardship, his words punctuated by continuous interruptions to catch his whiff.
"Alone?"
"He has his personal guards with him. Don't worry, it's safe. No one can compete with him." Biskek replied. His dangling arm kept rocking back and forth in a motion that, in another situation, would have been a source of hearty laughter.
"I don't know if you noticed, but they have summoned five undead warriors that we, the most expert necromancers in this part of the continent, have never seen before today. And they are playing with our men as the Bafolk play with the Armats. Plus, they took down two Death Knights just a few hours ago. If you allow me, I'm really worried!"
It was so frustrating. Her innermost fears had turned into reality. Never like that once in her life she wished she was mistaken.
Biskek didn't know how to reply to her; perhaps he too was starting to be aware of the desperate situation.
"You were right Etysh, we shouldn't have stayed so long defying our fate. We have been blinded by the thirst for knowledge, and now we pay the price for our egotism."
Seeing Radest agreeing with her didn't have the effect she'd expected. Shortly before the assault began, the boss had told them that his theory was now complete and only needed to be put into practice. He had given them one last chance to escape, but they had not accepted it.
Why had she been so foolish to not accept it?
"Now it is useless to commiserate. Look, we almost made it!"
Safety was near, the gate was in sight. Just a few more steps… just a few more steps.
Swish.
A spear of ice caressed her neck, and a trickle of blood began to flow. A second early, and her throat would have been pierced.
"Who is?"
"Did you really think we hadn't noticed your pathetic escape? Honestly, I was hoping you'd give us more credit. Such a pity."
A woman with long red hair clad in an extravagant black robe trimmed with violet motifs stood in front of them. Four small ghostly flames burned brightly behind her as she held a staff of fine wood.
"Curse."
Biskek charged with all his strength. The distance between them wasn't particularly large and, for a monk like him, a close fight would have proved favorable against what, at first glance, seemed to all intents and purposes a magic caster. "[Iron Skin]" The still functional arm acquired a density equal to that of steel.
But the woman didn't even have to take a step to avoid the punch that was about to be landed on her.
"Aaaarhg!"
Before he could realize what had happened, the executive's hand was severed cleanly from the rest of his body.
A man with his hair worn in a funny helmet had come out of nowhere and, after cutting his companion's body thanks to refined mastery with a short sword with a slight curvature of leaf, had immobilized Biskek by pointing the blade at his chest, in the position of the heart.
"Haven't you realized yet that you have no choice but to surrender?"
His tone was cold and detached, totally devoid of any hesitation. Had they made a single false move, their numbers would have dwindled inexorably.
"Rosalie, Kapitel. Don't be so abrupt. Let's try to resolve things peacefully."
"I don't think it's possible to talk calmly and politely with these fanatics. We'll have to kill them without giving them time to pull off any nasty tricks."
Behind them were two other appearances. A man in a sumptuous green dress and a woman carrying an exaggeratedly oversized sword.
What to do? I have barely any mana left to cast any spells and Radest can hardly stand anymore.
Each of them, taken individually, would have been a tough opponent even if they were both at their full strength. Outnumbered and in their condition, it was not even conceivable to try an offensive.
She could only hope that their leader would remember them and come save them, or just surrender.
I'd say hoping for the first option is completely out of whack. But if we give up and then Lord Kunivela catches us… we are in checkmate.
"Even if we wanted to give up, then our boss wouldn't take it so gladly. I prefer a quick death to be used as a test subject."
"You needn't worry about that." Said the man who had invited her to surrender. "Your beloved leader won't be in this world much longer."
"Impossible."
"Oh, yes?" The red-haired woman wore a smug expression, full of herself. What gave her so much confidence? "Then let me show you something very interesting. Come with us!"
They made her go up one of the barriers so that she could have a peripheral view of the center of the fortress.
What the woman saw left her speechless.
So this is what it feels like on a battlefield.
Antilene paced with unnatural calm as her infernal soldiers wreaked havoc on the enemy ranks.
The girl had lost count of the number of times she had imagined in her mind what it would feel like to fight in the front row, facing the enemy with the head held high.
Fear? Courage? Despair?
When she thought back to the emotions she had read in the old swashbuckling tales, which she had listened to with transport and emotion from the lips of soldiers of her escort, the half-elf could not help but remember with what passion, with what strength, they had remained imprinted on her mind and soul.
And now she was here, with the opportunity to experience them firsthand.
But very few things manage to be as disappointing as reality.
Antilene was not in a feverish state of excitement as she claimed the blood of her opponents, letting the thirst for battle be fulfilled.
Neither the melancholy nor the sadness for the loss of all those lives assailed her with a ruthless coldness. How many had she seen abhor conflict after they had tasted its sour fruits?
And yet… and yet she felt none of this.
Was it pragmatism of hers? So focused on the mission that she managed to completely leave every trace of the slightest emotion from her body?
Had she achieved the composure necessary to be the perfect war machine?
After all, it was what the girl had always wanted. The purpose she was born for, the purpose she trained for. Her duty, her mission.
Those who were born blessed by the Gods bore grave responsibilities and significant importance. And she…she had abode them.
The half-elf saw a Spartiate grab the head of a cultist who had taken cover behind a spiked wooden fence, his knees trembling, his hands foolishly trying to free himself from the grip.
His head crumbled with disheartening ease. Was it enough to kill a man?
Puff. I have no time to lose. Time to get to the boss before he can escape.
At the center of the settlement, there was a tower with an octagonal base built largely of beaten rock.
If she had to bet, the girl was sure she would find her target there.
"Lady Zesshi. Are you sure you want to go alone? We don't know what the enemy is capable of."
Rosalie's message rang in her head with particular apprehension. The concern shown by the older - or younger? - woman made her strangely happy.
"If the enemy can control two Death Knights, their capabilities will far exceed yours. Let's proceed as agreed and be careful not to let the other executives escape."
"Roger that! But remember you have a scroll available to contact us in case you need it. If things get complicated, don't hesitate to use us to save your life."
Communication stopped.
The half-elf stretched her muscles. Buvesez had applied some buffs for maximizing her attacks and defense, before splitting up. She felt her body crackling with energy. She was ready.
Arriving at the foot of the tower, she found herself before a welcoming committee more numerous than her imagination could ever have contemplated.
I didn't expect so many of them…
Flanking on either side, four mighty undead knights stood proudly upright. They emanated an air of mortal danger, radiant as the sun. Their chests were covered in thick plate armor as black as obsidian. The swords carefully stowed at their sides were waiting feebly to be drawn.
Death Cavalier. A race of Undead comparable to the Death Knights, and just as legendary.
Behind them lurked just as many elder liches, but unlike the ones they'd scythed down moments earlier, these exuded a ghostly, evil aura. The pressure they exerted was completely unlike any opponent the girl had ever faced before, except for the other Godkins and Rufus.
The grim reaper seemed like a close companion to them, ready to encourage his peers like a loving mother. The enchanted ornaments they wore, at a glance, were a far cry from the ordinary trinkets most enchanters carried as their gear.
But the most disturbing existence was beyond any doubt the one waiting for her in the middle of that gloomy crowd.
At first, he might have appeared like any other elder lich, but Antilene knew there was something distinguishable about him.
His upper body was clad in an armor of the purest adamantium, with sharp spikes protruding from his shoulders like sharp harpoons.
The lower part was wrapped in a fine tunic patterned in gold and scarlet, with some spots decorated with a few circular patterns of a pale white, reminiscent of the color of her hair.
The empty eye sockets burned with hellish flames, which continued to emit incandescent heat.
Above his head floated five ancient tomes whose pages persisted to turn without pause; a silver coronet framed his face giving it an aura of solemnity and royalty.
A Night Lich.
Beings composed of the same substance that nightmares are made of, legendary creatures whose presence was whispered in awe even among the wisest of men. Their existence was shrouded in legends and reveries, born from the sick mind of a madman.
Even the Theocracy had little information about them, their existence no more than a footnote recorded in Slaine's history archives.
"I was waiting for you, young champion of the gods. Let me give you my warm welcome. My name is Kunivela and I am the guide of these humble seekers of truth."
His tone was controlled and unrestricted from malice. His praises seemed to conceal no bile or ulterior motives.
His followers bowed to her in greeting, showing the half-elf the same regard they would have shown their master.
"What do you want?"
"There is no need to be so wary. I respect you as if you were my equal, don't you think it's polite to do the same?"
"I apologize." Antilene returned the curtsy shown with a slight nod of her head. "Tell me, why all these useless ceremonies? I thought you wanted to start the fight as soon as possible, given all the little friends you called to help you."
"I have seen your deeds against my puppies. Don't worry, I don't hold a grudge. It is completely natural to get rid of insects in your path. I have now lost count of how many times I have had to resort to unpleasant measures. No, what I want is you. Join me, it is such a thankless and time-consuming task to find suitable subordinates for my needs. I haven't seen a talent like yours in a hundred, no, maybe two hundred, yes two hundred, years."
The girl was shocked for a second, convinced that he was jesting, that he was making fun of her. Instead, the undead continued to observe her earnestly, waiting for an answer.
"Before I join you, explain to me why you are doing all this. Our prisoners have not been loose-mouthed."
"Yes, I understand. An adequate precautionary measure. Please forgive my rudeness, but it is not sensible to let one's personal affairs fall into not entirely trusted hands. Why am I doing this? It's very simple, actually. I want to lead all living beings to a new path. Free of suffering and pain. A route where death will no longer be able to scare us with its threats. You may be wondering how that is possible."
"How smart, you had to be the best in your class!"
"I will not pick up on your childish instigations. Let me explain. About one hundred and fifty years ago, some kingdoms far, far away from this part of the continent were struck by a strange phenomenon that turned all the poor inhabitants undead. I'm sure it reminds you of something."
"That's what happened here."
"Exactly. I have dubbed this event the death spiral. When the negative energy accumulates within a certain limit, more and more powerful undead begin to appear, which in turn produce more negative energy that will give life to other even stronger beings, in a continuous rotation. I will use the unleashed force to ascend to a plane different from that of mere mortals. I have not yet been able to establish whether it is a natural or man-made phenomenon. That's why I want to try to recreate it with my own hands. And you, Scripture of the Theocracy, have given me the right opportunity on a silver platter."
"That's why you haven't prepared any retreat! You intend to use your followers as a sacrifice!"
Antilene felt an uncomfortable feeling of disgust. She bore no sympathy for the members of that nefarious organization, but that they were just disposable items for the Night Lich irritated her tremendously. Using someone solely for one's ends, with no respect for their aspirations and life, was as deplorable as few other things in the world.
"Sacrifices? I think there was an incomprehension. Let me explain more distinctly. I've given anyone who wanted to take cover and escape the chance to do it. In addition, using my disciples as raw material, if we want to use an improper term, is a gesture of good faith towards you. To show that I have no interest in harming the citizens of your country."
"How kind, I'm almost moved!"
He completely ignored her answer, continuing his oration with the same imperturbability as before.
"But none of them accepted. Can you imagine why? I'll disclose it to you. It is because every single affiliate of Zurrernorn is convinced of our revolutionary project. They realize the impact our work will have on everyone's future. Not only men but also demihumans, heteromorphs, and even dragons.
When the ceremony is complete, I will be able to ascend to the level of the Creators and to heights of wizardry that no one had ever remotely approached. With absolute control over life and death in my hands, a new world order will be shaped. Join me, and I will bring back whoever you want, without the ridiculous limitations that today's magic allows. I bet that, like everyone else, you too have someone dear that you want to embrace again. I will make it attainable!"
Whoever. Also…
"What if this ritual you proclaim so much fails? What will happen then?"
"On this off chance, I'll simply formulate a new hypothesis and attempt again. The researcher's life is made up of innumerable attempts that follow one another without ceasing. Unfortunately, not all of them are thriving. But the highway to knowledge is paved with failure, my dear. A lesson I learned the hard way."
"... I understand."
For a brief, tiny moment, she had to admit that perhaps they could find a common ground.
But in the end, with her faithful scythe in hand, the half-elf got into a guard position, ready to start the fight.
"Come on, I'll leave you the chance to launch the first assault. There won't be a second time."
Since the start of that strange conversation, the other living corpses began to utter a word. Spitting all their contempt and venom on her, because of the perceived refusal.
"Insolent."
"Little arrogant brat. Don't you realize what your situation is?"
"You will pay dearly for your haughtiness!"
"Silence!" Their leader shushed them. "Can't you comprehend that you are outnumbered? Do you really think you have a chance?"
He seemed strangely disappointed at her rejection. Antilene could almost read the regret in those empty eye sockets.
"Sure, I can."
"Pride. The nemesis of success. Very well, but don't complain I didn't warn you. [Hell Flame]"
A very small flame clung to her arm and in a few seconds, it became a furious inferno of black flames. The temperature was so high that it should have melted anybody and anything it came into contact with without much ceremony.
But for Antilene, it was only a particularly bothersome heat, typical of intensely sunny summer days.
Sixth tier? No, maybe even higher. Interesting!
The damage the girl was taking was minimal. But the fact that she felt a vague sensation, that distantly remembered pain, was already something out of the ordinary.
Now it's my turn.
Moving her weapon so fast that it generated a rushing wind that dispersed the flames, she tensed her muscles. Applying as much pressure as possible, she gave a full thrust with her right foot and went straight for Kunivela's neck.
The Night lich and his ilk soared into the air, while the four Death Cavaliers moved into fighting stances.
They tried to stop her run by lunging with their mighty cutlasses.
The scythe deflected the blows, but at the moment of contact small concentrated blasts unfolded with their power.
They imbued their weapons with spells. A good move.
The force of the explosion raised a great fuss from which he emerged unharmed, without even the shadow of the slightest harm.
She was encircled. The knights prepared to bar her way, as the liches began casting spells from their elevated position to bombard her.
"There is no escape."
"[Dragon Lighting]"
"[Undying Flame]"
"[Freeze Lance]"
"[Grand Fireball]"
"[Chain Dragon Lighting]"
Elemental sorceries flooded her location like a downpour.
"[Greater Evasion] [Greater Reinforce Defense]" The martial arts, like sweet nectar, augmented her evasion skills and defensive capabilities.
She managed to avoid all the blows, except for the dragon-shaped beam of light hurled by the Night Lich, which hit her full in the armored chest.
She knelt on the soil.
Thinking it was over, the Death Cavaliers broke formation to deliver the coup de grace.
Too easy.
Before the first blow could reach her, Charon's Guidance quickly swung around, and with a single crash, the body of her attacker fell to the ground, broken in two.
From above came more elemental spears, lightning bolts, and fireballs to try to plug the half-elf.
She was too fast. Grabbing one of the sabers that fell to the ground from her first victim, Antilene climbed onto the head of another of the foes, which she used as a point of support to make a leap and soar in flight.
With the stolen weapon, the half-elf pierced the swollen body of one of the undead sorcerers.
The spell with which it had been empowered did the rest. Her target's body was reduced to ash, as she used the recoil of the detonation to fall to the ground.
In her descent, she used the speed conferred by the shock wave to land with a flying kick on a Death Cavalier, which collapsed like a withered tree before a barrage.
"Hit her now!"
Too late. With a graceful somersault, she was already a few meters away when the spells fell on the poor undead, still blocked to the ground.
"You are strong, I recognize it. But your show ends now. [Hell Circle.]"
The books floating above the Night Lich's head began to spin rapidly as they were engulfed in ghostly flames.
The swirl of blaze wrapped itself around her chest, paralyzing her movements.
The two remaining knights decided to take advantage of her moment of weakness to overwhelm her, believing they now had victory in hand.
Even undead can fall victim to impatience.
Antilene expanded her muscles as much as possible and, although the enterprise had left her opponents stunned, she freed herself from those particular chains without having to make an excessive effort.
"[Greater Slash Strike]"
A blow sharp as two blades of breeze ended the non-life of those two aberrations.
"Inconceivable!"
Collecting the remaining swords, she put on a display of lethal knife throwing. Two of these directly shot another of the lich who was overwhelmed by a storm of energy, reducing him to dust.
Kunivela tried to keep as much control as possible, feelings like dread and distress were something that he had overwhelmed many, many years ago.
"[Rotten Plague]"
A cloud of insects of all sorts materialized in front of the half-elf. Grasshoppers, bees, locusts, flies, moths, and countless other species descended upon her, ready to devour her flesh.
They tried to get into the joints of her armor to be able to penetrate her skin but, in contact with it, they realized that it was so hard that they could not even scratch it.
"Is this your latest stunt? I was hoping for something more thrilling!"
A couple of sweeps of her scythe sent a small whirlwind that eradicated the nasty little creatures.
"No, it was just to buy time. Observe!"
Kunivela had ascended past the top of the watchtower. The other liches around him began chanting empowering spells.
The Night Lich's body began to glow with a soft light as he prepared to invoke his trump card.
"[Meteor Swarm]"
Incendiary fragments of celestial bodies began wreaking havoc on the battlefield, structures collapsing from the impacts as the ground was engulfed in flames.
The tower began to lose components that collapsed unceremoniously on the half-elf, who was overwhelmed by the violent encounter between the meteors and the building.
At the end of the spell, only debris for a radius of fifteen meters.
A suffocating silence imposed his reign with an iron fist.
"It's over!"
"You are right!"
Emerging from the remains with barely any dust marks, Antilene scrambled up the remains of the tower in a fraction of a second to get to her quarry.
The other two liches stood between her and her target but, by then, it was too late.
"[Greater Ability Boost] [Greater Focus Battle Aura] [Strong Strike]"
The strikes were executed in an elegant deadly prom, first piercing the undead who had stood as a shield for their master, then breaking the Night Lich's skeletal body into many tiny fragments.
When they landed on the ground, of the majestic and at the same time frightening decadent body, nothing remained but the upper part of the torso, the right arm, and part of the leg that covered up to the left knee.
The skull had been sliced from the height of the forehead to the lower left cheek.
With his arm still intact, Kunivela was desperately attempting to glue the remnants of his face with all the strength he retained left, in a frantic attempt to piece together himself.
"You are like them. I never thought that in the underground of the Theocracy, monsters similar to you were hiding. In the end, it was me who sinned of vainglory. What a miserable end."
The scythe began to tease his neck, waiting to pass its sentence.
"Any last words?"
"Don't you think that it is unfair that Gods walk this world just to remind us of our misery?"
Swish.
What had once been one of the world's anguishes was now just a bad memory to be buried in the record of history.
Unfair, huh?
Antilene recited a small prayer for his soul, in Surshana's kingdom there was no more room for grudges.
It's not as unfair as you might have thought!