Book 3: Chapter 18

Book 3: Chapter 18

There were four undead watching the flames lit by the [Undead Assassin] he’d killed. Even now, with all his new levels, he thought just one alone would be a hard fight. What could he do against four? But he had to do something. Running would just cause him more problems later.

He rose from his hiding place and rushed them. They turned around casually, as if unsurprised to see him.

Running, he held his blade to the side, as if he was planning to cut into the middle one with a sideways slash. The one he was aiming at readied a parry with its broadsword, while the two to the side of him made ready as well.

Right before he reached them, he stopped. The feint worked; the middle undead hit only air with his parry, and the two undead next to him stabbed out with black spears, missing Brin by inches.

He dropped his sword, jumped and tackled the middle undead into the fire, then rolled through it to the other side.

The fourth undead struck down with an ax, and on instinct Brin put his hands up and caught it. The blow was strong enough that he didn’t stop it completely, but to his surprise, he was able to stop the majority of the momentum, so that the ax didn’t even break through the armor of his shoulder.

Brin pushed, knocked the undead off balance, and then wrenched the ax out of its hands. Was he actually stronger than these things now?

He spun with the ax and knocked away another stab with a spear; the blow was so solid that it left his hands wringing, but he still knocked it away. He could do this. He was strong enough now to actually fight them.

The next undead stabbed into his thigh, and rather than step back to avoid it like any sane fighter would, Brin accepted the blow and traded it for a swing at the undead’s exposed neck, severing it.

He kept the momentum up and dispatched the unarmed undead behind him. The sword-wielder rose from the fire, stumbled and fell back down again. The places on its back where the flame had touched him burned straight through like tissue paper.

He got notifications for the three kills, and blinked them away along with the notification that he’d gone up to level fourteen. There was still one left.

This time, it approached more cautiously. He tried to bait it into an attack with a wide swing that left him exposed, but it danced back and used the spear’s greater reach to poke his armor. It had seen that Brin was willing to trade wounds for kills. It planned on staying cautious, keeping a distance, and using the spear’s greater reach to wear him down.

Brin didn’t have time for that. More undead could arrive any second. He charged, swinging wildly, the undead stepped back, warding him away with sharp slashes, but Brin ignored them and kept coming. Frustratingly, the undead was faster, even running backwards.

It didn’t have eyes in the back of its head, though. The undead tripped, and Brin swung down with the ax. The undead blocked it, but no matter. He swung again and again, beating the undead into the mud, until finally the spear was knocked from its grasp and he ended it.

Alert! You have defeated: Undead Warrior [15]

For once, there was no message about level disparity.

Level up! You have reached level 15. You receive: +4 Strength, +4 Vitality, +2 Dexterity, +1 Mental Control, +1 Will, +1 free attributes.

Congratulations! You have earned a new Skill. Please select from the following three choices. Upgrade Title - Scarred +10% healing speed -> +30% healing speed. Upgrade - Pain Resistance Pain will feel even better, like pleasure instead of simply heat and energy. Desperate Nutrition Nutrition is given from the consumption of scabs, even your own. More energy is added than is lost from the healing process.

He still had enough of himself to remember that that was incredibly gross. Also, an anti-starvation skill wasn’t exactly a priority right now. He upgraded his Title.

He dashed over to the scene where the fight had started, and pulled the unburnt corpses into the still-burning grass. The undead would be drawn to the flame, and hopefully that would give Brin time to get away. The other corpses had burned themselves out. Anything he could add to make the fire last longer? He didn’t have time to find wood. Hopefully it would be long enough.

He found his sword, put it in the sheath, and ran with the black ax still in his hands. He didn’t want to be caught with just one weapon again.

He ran towards where Hogg was fighting. He’d gotten a bit turned around in the fight, but there was no way he could miss it. Flashes of light illuminated the trees. Sudden, hot bursts of wind from flame attacks. Shockwaves that he could feel through the ground.

As he got closer, he started to find bodies. A decapitated corpse there, and broken undead here. Up in a tree, he saw an undead who’d been thrown in the air and impaled on something. Black weapons lay on the ground, many of them broken.

Further on, he found a spot where bodies covered the forest floor like a carpet. Most of them bore the same wound; a burn straight through the middle. There were probably two dozen undead here that Hogg had taken out with a single attack. The high levels were something else. Could he even help here?

He could. Even if all he did was distract one enemy or take one wound meant for Hogg, it would be worth it.

The flashes of light stopped coming. He no longer felt or heard the evidence of magical effects, but still heard the telltale sound of metal striking against metal. Hogg was still fighting.

He saw movement in a clearing up ahead. That was it; that was where Hogg was fighting.

Hogg stood in the center of a clearing. Some of the undead from before stood in a circle around him. The huge, armored one with the ten-foot tall shield. The nimble and dangerous archer. The caster with the burning powder. A black-clad assassin. Then in front was the human leader, a tall and heroic-looking figure in blue plate armor, the one his [Inspect] called an [Anti-Mage].

It was a brief moment of calm. The glow of the Eveladis still hung in the air, illuminating every blade of grass and leaf on the trees in a faint glow, revealing the truth of the world, banishing any possibility of illusion. The sky seemed black, so the only other illumination was the dim light cast from the magical weapons. Only Hogg’s short swords seemed ordinary. Of course, they weren’t.

Hogg waited for them, silently, eyes somewhat vacant as if pretending he didn’t really care about them. His enemies also watched, not moving in.

At first, Brin wondered what they were waiting for, but then a group of six regular undead soldiers burst in from the treeline, and they closed the circle, all attacking at the same time.

Hogg moved in a blur, rushing through the six regular soldiers, hacking through them like a dark tornado. He dodged a thrown ball of greed acid from the undead caster, redirected an arrow in midair from the archer towards the giant undead, where it shattered against the shield.

Hogg was here, consumables gone, Class completely countered, fighting a group of assassins created to kill him specifically, and he was still hanging on.

But no one could fight against numbers like that without taking injuries. The [Anti-Mage] darted in and landed a few slashes through Hogg’s black leathers, before backing up again, his sword dripping with blood.

The four powerful undead and their master reformed the circle, none the worse for wear. Hogg still stood tall, but bore a few new scrapes. If things didn’t change, they would eventually wear him down.

Hogg said something, quietly, but the words had an unnatural quality that made them impossible to miss. “ <>

That was the magic language, the one that he’d heard Lumina use last year to guide her spells. What was Hogg trying to do?

“Silence,” boomed the [Anti-Mage], the first word Brin had heard him speak, and it had the weight of a Skill behind it.

Hogg’s face went rigid, like he was trying to speak but couldn’t. Then he relaxed a bit and said, “You know, that’s getting really annoying!”

Then that “Silence” skill didn’t stop you from talking, it only stopped you from speaking in the magic language? He didn’t have long to puzzle it out, as a group of twelve undead soldiers arrived from the forest. Hogg dashed to meet them and Brin took his opportunity as well.

With everyone’s attention fully on Hogg, Brin leapt from his hiding place and ran towards the undead archer. If this thing was surviving in the proximity of someone like Hogg, then it was high level. Brin had no illusions that he’d actually be able to outfight the archer. But he was starting to realize that wasn’t what [Scarred One] was for. If he couldn’t outfight someone, all he had to do was out-crazy them.

He swung with the ax in a lumberjack’s chop. The archer saw him coming in time to block, but unfortunately for the undead, it blocked with its bow. Brin felt intense satisfaction as the wood shattered, though the shock of the hit knocked the ax out of his hands.

At the same time, he felt a blazing, thrilling heat. He looked down, and saw a sword—not blacksteel, something nicer—sticking into his lung. The undead had stabbed him with its sidearm.

Brin smiled with bloody teeth and pulled his own sidearm, and stabbed the undead in return.

The stab didn’t get as far as he’d like; the undead staggered back with only a light wound, but the look of shock on his face made it worth it.

Level up! You have reached level 16. You receive:

It gave him the space to see Hogg’s fight. The undead caster was dead, and the armored giant was bunkered behind its shield. None of the regular undead could touch him, but the [Anti-Mage] pressed him back. The huge broadsword was supernatural in its ability to find Hogg in the crowd. It knocked him out of the air, batted him around like a volleyball. Every strike hit with the force of a mortar shell. Hogg blocked every strike, but still took heavy wounds, as if they were appearing on their own.

Hogg jumped off an upward swing, and flipped through the air to land next to Brin. He stumbled trying to reach his feet, but made it up on the second try, while clutching his side.

The man in blue armor laughed. He started to say something, but just as he did, a blur tore through the air, aiming at Brin.

Hogg moved in an instant, catching it. Brin fired off [Inspect] just in time to see the words [Undead Assassin], before Hogg hurled the black-clad undead towards the rest of the group.

Hogg roared in anger. “” He threw out his hand, and a burst of green sparks flew a couple inches before disappearing uselessly. Whatever he had just tried didn't work. But Hogg didn’t seem to realize that. He squared his shoulders, smiling, his eyes gleaming.

“So that’s how it is,” he said.

“Silence!” shouted the [Anti-Mage].

This time Brin was near enough that he felt the wave of magic--or anti-magic?--pass through him.

“Oh, it’s too late for that. See, now that I have the trick of it, I can do it even without the Language. Let’s try something like...” He pushed out his fist, and a bright green flame appeared in front of him, only it didn’t look exactly right, almost plastic, and it disappeared after a half-second.

Hogg stroked his chin. “Hm. I guess it’s more like–”

The undead attacked as one, swords up, axes out, spears stabbing before Brin could even hear the order.

Hogg stomped on the ground, and a line of yellow spears burst from the ground like a barricade, pinning the front line of charging undead in place. The spears were glossy and partially transparent, almost like they weren’t real, but the wounds they left were real enough.

The [Anti-Mage] shouted, and the yellow spears shattered and disappeared. Hogg pointed and a storm of arrows flew into the undead, and they kept coming, hundreds of them, until the [Anti-Mage] activated what looked like a consumable of his own, creating a magical bubble around what was left of his troops.

Hogg gesture, and a blue fist materialized inside the bubble, smashing the giant undead into the ground. “I can’t believe I waited so long to do this!”

He waved like a maestro directing an orchestra. Inside the bubble-shield, pandemonium broke loose. The remaining undead were torn to pieces by colorful and translucent shapes and weapons. Writhing ropes, cutting buzz-saws, swords and axes, all tearing into the army without remorse.

Only the [Anti-Mage] remained standing. Everything he touched with his broadsword shattered into nothingness, and he moved with superhuman speed, trying vainly to protect his warband. He failed.

Then he was alone, and Hogg’s magic descended on him. An orange anvil knocked the sword out of his hands. Gray chains climbed over him like snakes, tying his arms and legs behind his back.

Hogg gestured, and the chains dragged the struggling [Anti-Mage] closer. He grabbed the chains with his bare hands, and pulled the [Anti-Mage] to him. Then he collected his shortsword from the ground, and without fanfare stabbed through the armor’s gap in the neck, ending it.

Brin turned around, looking for the next ambush, eyes darting into the trees to try and find the next [Assassin]. There was nothing but wreckage, dead bodies, scorched earth, craters and burning trees. Nothing came. No new undead were visible in the trees. It was done. They'd really done it. He started to laugh.

Hogg collapsed onto the ground. Brin's laughter choked off in his throat, and he ran to Hogg's side. His wounds were so much worse than Brin had thought. His entire body was wet, although how much of it was his own was an open question.

Brin shuffled backwards, staying out of reach.

“It’s done. Drink the potion,” said Hogg.

Brin looked at himself. Perris’ spectacular armor was barely more than a bunch of blood-soaked leather straps. Without the [Mana Scars] holding him together, his body wasn’t much better. He had some levels. How far had he gotten? A quick look told him level 22. He had another few General Skills, so he selected [Hide Status].

He put every free point he had into Magic. He immediately felt relief as his mana flooded in again, holding the wounds closed, but it wasn’t enough. After that, he figured he had maybe an hour, and then the wounds would all open again. And that was only if he was holding still. [Battle Fury] was currently doubling his Strength, Dexterity, and most importantly, Vitality, but that would wear off after a half hour, making his wounds slow down their healing speed. If he had to walk all the way back to town, or fight more undead? He’d never make it.

He barely glimpsed over the Skill options for his Class. He had another Skill point now. One of the new Skill options was his level 20 capstone if he chose to take it.

Wound Transfer Transfer a portion of your wounds to an ally. Extra experience for slaying an ally in this manner.

“Why aren’t you drinking it?” asked Hogg.

“I’m not sure I’m done getting hurt tonight,” said Brin.

“The fight’s over. I just need a rest, see, and then we can go back home together,” Hogg lied.

It was dark now that no magic was flying around, but even in the dark Brin could see that Hogg bore wounds that would already have killed someone from earth. No, it would kill someone from this world, too. It would just take a lot longer.

“You have any more healing supplies in those pockets? Any bandages?” asked Brin.

From his back, Hogg made a show of looking down at his black leathers. They weren’t in a better shape than Brin’s armor. Rags. Hogg’s pockets were finally empty.

“Where’s Marksi?” asked Brin.

“Camouflage bag, back that way a bit,” said Hogg, indicating with his chin. “Now, drink it. What are you waiting for?”

There was only one way this was going to work, so Brin turned his heart into stone. He barked out a laugh. A cruel laugh. “I’m waiting for you to weaken a bit more. You understand, right? What kind of Skills a [Scarred One] has? Face it, you're going to die either way, so why waste the opportunity? I just need to know for sure you aren’t going to magic my head off the second I get close enough to activate it. Nothing personal, but I can’t pass up an opportunity like this.”

Hogg closed his eyes. “An evil Class really works that fast?”

Brin shook his head. “No. Don’t you get it? I’ve always been this way. It makes sense, see? We get the Class we really deserve. A Class isn’t what you do. It’s what you are. It’s nice though, not to have to hide who I am any more.”

“No. You’re not. I don’t believe that. You weren’t. You’ll see. So... so take it. I want you to. Take my experience. There’s probably some good Achievements in it for you, too. But just... listen. Just listen, ok? Some day, you’re going to wake up. Evil Classes will sometimes evolve their way back into sanity, and when that happens to you, don’t beat yourself up, ok? It’s my fault you have an evil Class. My fault, ok? It’s mine. There’s a hundred things I could’ve done differently to stop all this from happening. When you come back to yourself, I want you to.... When, someday...”

Hogg really was fading, so Brin sprang forward.

Hogg gasped in surprise, which was the perfect opportunity. Brin poured the potion down Hogg’s throat. Hogg tried to spit it back into his face, but Brin had been expecting that. He used every single new point of Strength he’d earned to hold Hogg’s mouth closed until the potion started to work.

There was no visible effect, no flash of light, so Brin had no idea if it was even working. Hogg struggled against him weakly. Then, less weakly. Then Hogg threw him off, his strength fully returned.

Brin fell to the ground, barely feeling it, and started to laugh. “I can’t believe... you actually thought...”

He couldn’t really blame Hogg. Evil Classes really did get inside your head, and even though it had never been his plan to kill Hogg, he had been really close to taking and using [Wound Transfer]. That would be the smart thing to do, right? He hadn't done it, though, because there was a chance the Skill would’ve killed Hogg before the potion healed him. He still wasn’t sure if it was the right call or not, but he did know it would’ve been callous and cruel, and that's not who he wanted to be, not even as the [Scarred One].

Instead of [Wound Transfer], Brin put his last Skill point into his [Scarred] Title.

“Idiot!” Hogg yelled.

Brin laughed again, but fell onto his back. His mana still had about an hour left before his organs turned to mush, but his stamina was completely spent. Darkness started to seep across the edges of his vision. His body was still on fire and his insides felt like he was full of wriggling worms. His Vitality was insanely high, was that the feeling of his body healing? Or maybe he was getting delirious. Even the energy of his transformed pain couldn't keep him conscious much longer. Would [Scarred] and [Ugly on the Inside] fix him in time? This was a good way to find out. He’d either wake up, or not.

In his last moment of consciousness, he saw the trees blurring by in the darkness as Hogg carried him home.