Chapter 187

Chapter 187

Chapter 187

Lahn watched in silence beside his mother Shovi and other refugees hiding here in a pub’s lower cellar. Funnily enough, he even noted how a small group of other students from the academy were here - no doubt having fled down the stairway long before he did to make it down here without flying. But overall it was the locals - the pub owner and his family, a farmer and his three sons, a couple women from the local brothel and a few merchants with their kids.

They were all terrified to stay here given the battle raging right outside, but options had run out. There was nowhere left to go with almost every level of the city experiencing some kind of fighting, with exception of the lowermost levels underground - but there was no way Lahn and his mother could make it there. They were on upper floor 6, and by foot it’d take one or two hours just to get down a single flight of stairs between levels.

The forums were lit up with activity, with various people in Mandon streaming things that were happening while begging for help or coordinating evacuations or rescues. But it was dire, and people were beginning to lose hope. The king had been critically injured in the battle with some guy called ‘The Slayfather’, and had to be evacuated from the fight in the air to a more secure location at the cost of many lives. The royal fleet had lost half of its total numbers and was on the back foot, being hard-pressed to assist anyone else and being unable to intercept the large blocky transports that shuttled down invading strike groups to the lower floors along the edges of the city. People were dying by the tens of thousands, being outright butchered or being set up in containment areas with shackles and slave collars - no doubt prizes to be brought back to Rippenvire’s home base after the battle was won.

But not all was lost even despite this.

Reinforcements continued to flood in through the lower levels as front line fighters who’d been combatting the elves retreated home. Legions from the Thane Necropolis were already securing most of the ground city level, but fighting was still fierce even here. News of armies from Deepnest was also circulating, headed by the ratkin queen herself, and most important of all - Riven Thane was reportedly heading here now.

Lahn’s eyes fell as he thought back to having met the man. He liked Riven, or ‘Travis’ is what he’d called himself while hiding his identity, but he didn’t know what would happen when Riven got here. Past events showed Riven was quite literally an army and city killing machine, specializing in massive area of effect magic that could potentially be the saving grace of Dawn. But what kind of damage would take place in the city should Riven go all out?

And what if Riven wasn’t enough?

***

Slayfather Tikus, a man with a long silver katana and a tophat in a billowing black suit-coat, continued to calmly walk off the stairs onto flat land - his hundreds of undead thralls tearing into enemies ahead of him so that he merely had to continue raising the dead. So far, the only man he’d really had to put any effort into was the king himself, who was now fleeing across the 6th level and almost out of sight.

No matter. It wasn’t as if they’d escape. It was merely a feeble attempt at prolonging the inevitable.

His pale lips curled up into a grin to expose his fangs when one of the king’s guards desperately tried throwing an empowered, electrified lance of holy light his way - but Slayfather Tikus smashed the weapon in a swift stroke of his katana in an effortless flick of the wrist.

Weak.

But he paused as he came across the corpse of a man he knew. Just a lieutenant in the Rippenvire army, but still more real to him than any of the other deaths he’d seen so far. His brows furrowed in irritation, that man had given him a sense of real promise.

Looking back up to the fleeing, severely wounded king and his king’s guards, across bloodied cobblestones and hundreds of bodies, past burning buildings where screams of the dying echoed over the cityscape - the Slayfather locked onto the limping leader of this city.

This city of cattle, cattle that would be butchered and used for food to fuel Rippenvire’s expansion into this sector of the multiverse.

Tikus narrowed his eyes. Perhaps taking his time finishing this would indeed be... unwise of him. After all, he wouldn’t be able to call in reinforcements from the homeland for years from now - so why not put in the effort and save the lives of his men by just helping them out a bit?

He sighed, and with another flick of his wrist - the undead thralls around him exploded into red orbs of blood magic. The combined power of their sacrifices thrummed and then blasted across the two-hundred yard gap between himself and the king, and with cries of alarm the king’s guard set up a shield formation right before the wave of red crashed into them.

The impact was devastating.

Half of the heavily armored guards were ripped apart completely, two more knocked unconscious with severe wounds, and only five of them maintained their stands in a flood of penetrating power.

The king and the man helping him limp away were both crushed, slamming them through a brick wall and out the other side where their mangled bodies remained barely breathing and bleeding out on the ground.

A blur of silver and his katana caught an assassin’s attack to his left, flaying the semi-invisible man alive with an audible squelch over the roars . Tikus sneered down at the assassin, clutching his throat as fluid spilled out, and Tikus put a foot on the man’s chest to push him onto his back. “I have heard your heartbeat for well over two minutes, imbecile. If you’re going to hide your presence against a vampire, and a greater vampire at that, you need to do more than just...”

Slayfather Tikus slowed his speech, abruptly noticing that his thralls weren’t making noise anymore. In fact, the entire area around him had gone eerily silent...

...

...

...

He blinked. His eyes lifted slowly from the dying man in front of him, taking in a scene that very much confused him. All across the two hundred meter gap between himself and the remnant king’s guards who were desperately trying to get to Dawn’s leader, were the bodies of his undead minions.

They were dead. All dead, and for good this time. He hadn’t even heard them drop, but their bodies were scattered about like someone had just run them through a meat grinder. And there, sitting on top of a central pile of them, was a small spider.

Small was a relative term, but rather it was a little larger than half the size of the vampiric hounds Rippenvire had brought with them. The spider was black and red, with two eyes and twelve legs. It was... a demon, if he wasn’t mistaken. One called a Blood Weaver he’d seen in textbooks before, even a favorite of vampiric warlocks if he remembered correctly due to their high affinity for the Blood Pillar; and it wore a black, ruby-studded tiara on its head while simultaneously wearing a cape of fresh entrails. It stood proudly, almost humorously staring at him with mandibles splayed open in a spider’s version of a wide grin. The creature’s heartbeat and power signature were both absolutely and utterly hidden, and if Slayfather Tikus didn’t see the creature with his own eyes he’d not have believed it was even there.

2...

1...

The system had the audacity to name this creature ‘FUTURE’ conqueror of worlds!? What the-

Time resumed, a white sheet wall of power from the system closed off a five-mile area, and the spider launched itself off the pile of bodies with an explosive force that made Tikus reel.

“YOU SURLY, UGLY LITTLE COW!” Tikus barely had time to raise his pistol and fire with a blur of speed that caused the air to crack with the effort, sending an explosive round right into the spider’s trajectory - only for the demon to veer left with flurries of webbing that extending in all directions from various legs.

It pulled her left, up, and then back around while maintaining momentum as she veered into him with a gleeful cackle. “GOTCHYA BITCH!”

*CRACK-CLING-CLANG-WHIP-BOOM-SNAP*

Athela’s sharpened legs blurred, smashing against the vampiric general as he backpedaled while cursing and focusing his aura into the silver katana he used. Just as quickly he’d fire off bullets every time she gave him room, bullets and blade meeting arachnid legs and sprays of red webbing or acidic venom clouds in movements so fast that the viewers around the city watching the exchange could only gawk at the sheer display of power and speed.

The ground tore up beneath them, building with momentum as the crazed spider continued cackling, jiggling the kabob of heads, exchanging attacks with the Slayfather on equal footing. It absolutely enraged him.

Sending out a shockwave of death energy in all directions that gave him some space, Tikus snarled and summoned two shadow lords - elemental void creatures of the beyond to fight for him. Each was twice his size, looking like cloaked wraiths made of black wisps that tore through the air towards the spider - but Athela merely crackled with green light and sent a shockwave of her own energy back at the creatures.

The wall of green rapidly expanded and burst, colliding with the shadow elementals and causing them to scream as their bodies turned to clouds of pink flower petals. Those same flower petals quickly sharpened, and in a flurry of thousands of tiny little blades they expanded to all sides before collapsing on the Slayfather’s position.

FAE MAGIC FROM A DEMON!?

Tikus cursed in shock and disbelief, activating a martial art called ‘Danger Sense’ that prioritized incoming attacks based on lethality - giving him an edge to concentrate and defend on what was important. Then he activated another martial art: ‘Soulsaint Swordstorm’ that sent a thousand silver cuts empowered with death energy at the wall of petals in front of him. Translucent blades tore through the air and scattered the petals only to-

*WHAM*

Tikus reeled backwards, holding his nose when the kabob spiraled through the air and crashed into his face. Blinking rapidly and staring dumbfounded at the decapitated heads on a stick that’d smacked him upside the skull, he turned his angry red gaze to glare back at the loudly cackling demon that pointed his way while dancing around in a victory circle. He’d not seen it coming because he’d been too invested via his ‘Danger Sense’ on the truly lethal strikes of the petals, but being smacked upside the head with the decapitated faces of his friends was humiliating.

“I will teach you to mock me!” Tikus said under his breath, spitting blood and wiping it away from his broken nose just before it snapped back into position and healed. “You will regret making a fool of me!”

Athela had resorted to making turkey-gobbling noises hopping up and down on her hind legs and wiggling her cape of entrails around behind her while her tiara bobbed up and down a few dozen yards off. “SOME VAMPIRE YOU ARE! I’D THOUGHT VAMPIRES WERE HOT SHIT AFTER BONDING TO MY MASTER, BUT IT APPEARS I WAS MISTAKEN! YOU’RE JUST A BLOODSUCKING FAIRY WITH A BIG EGO!”

“CURSE YOU BACK TO THE HELLS, FOUL DEMON WENCH!” Tikus blurred forward and unleashed a ‘Trickshot’ martial art, causing multiple blood-infused bullets to swerve left and right before veering back to take Athela in the sides as his front carved down with the silver blade.

*CHING-CHING-CHING-CHING-CHING*

Athela’s legs met his attacks almost simultaneously, sounding like a gatling gun with the rapid exchange before spraying acid all over the Slayfather’s face.

Tikus screamed, and then he felt one of her legs rip through his chest.

Immediately he exploded into a cloud of blood, reforming three dozen meters away and snarling at the chest wound in his vest that dripped blood. Black-green venom began combatting his natural regeneration, and the skin on his face sizzled with the acid that slowly began to fade away under his vampiric healing qualities.

“I do believe I underestimated you in the beginning, little one...” Tikus said, slowly taking off his top hat and tossing it aside. Ripping off his ruined coat, and then his vest, he exposed his pale and muscular chest to the air while baring his fangs. Dropping his sword and gun, veins began to pulse and bulge all along his arms, abdomen, and upper body until his red eyes buldged out of his sockets. “But I won’t make that mistake again. BEHOLD! MY ULTIMATE FORM!”

Athela’s cackling came to an abrupt halt as the area around them exploded again in a massive surge of power. The city shook under the immense weight of the vampire’s strength. Blood and death energies intermixed as a roaring howl reverberated around their white-walled enclosure many miles wide, and the vampire began to change before her very eyes.

Wings blasted out of his back in a spray of blood. His skin darkened from bright white to a deep gray. Hair sprouted along his back, nostrils enlarged and became vertical slits. His jaw protruded, with large pointed teeth coming up and down from top and bottom of his mouth - emphasizing his fangs most of all; and his fingers became large scythe-like talons. The body also became larger, three times the size of the man he’d once been, and bones cracked as his legs reverted to a more T-rex like figure that rippled with muscle.

He was huge, menacing, and bat-like.

And Athela was caught off guard as the Slayfather broke the sound barrier to engage her once again. In an instant, her small body was ripped asunder, sending her upper and lower halves scattering apart to skip along the ground...

Before her next body began to reform from the pieces.