Book 8: Chapter 18: H
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He broke the silence not because it bothered him after all this time, but because he wanted to.
Because he craved a response. Part of him thought hed get one, even now.
Especially now?
The air was thick like a miasma, silent as a massed grave.
Theyre coming again. They never learn, do they? Do you see them, my friend?
He turned his head and waited. No one else spoke, so he let his voice echo.
Filled the air again.
They buzz around like little insects. Noisy. Irksome. Should I deal with them? I would have to leave you alone.
Silence. Then, a chuckle. His. He reached out and patted the air; he would never dare to touch, even if he could.
No, no. I would never leave you alone. Im just kidding! Still
A frown crossed his face. Pensive, his voice became petulant.
Is this time special? Is there something I dont know? They look like the same bugs to me. So why?
He paced around. Nothing had changed. He had not slept in eons. He had never ceased keeping watch. Nothing came here. Nothing moved. Yetsomething had changed without him noticing.
Again, the fingers reached out, tentatively stopping.
Youve grown so silent. Have you withdrawn your blessing because we have done something wrong? Are we taking too long? Ive tried my best, you know. You dont say anything. Im not a mind-reader. What do you want me to do?
No. Response. As always. Yet it irked him. It enraged him. His voice grew louder, so loud a buzz filled the room as pebbles and dust shook.
Answer me! I deserve that much, at least! Am I not your faithful companion? Faith. Have I not kept it for you for so long? I know youre there. Or why else would it have changed? Is it them? Us?
He stretched out an arm, pleadingly, shifting from wrath to regret, chagrin in a moment.
Im sorry! Dont be angry.
He groveledsinking low to the ground, looking up hopefully.
Nothing moved. Themansplaintive whisper was nearly lost.
Can you even hear me?
His head rose and beheld the object of his affection, anger, remorse, and desire. What the little bugs came for, every time. Something had changed. He whispered, uncertainly.
Master?
-
The Village of the Dead, or the Village of Death, was a death-zone. Aptly named, but it was an adventurers term anyways. It referred to places so lethal that even Named-rank Adventurers survival could not be guaranteed if they enteredlet alone in them clearing or overcoming the challenges within.
There were a number of these places in every part of the world. Some were simply regions of ecological or magical damage, like the Dyed Lands or the Bloodfields, still valuable but inherently risky and without known treasure waiting to be seized.
Other locations were lairs. Like the Krakens Pass.
Some were dungeons. Magical relics, malevolent dungeons designed to slaughter, places where something died or waited.
The Archmage of Izrils mansion might have become a death-zone in time, if it had slaughtered ten or twenty times the population it already had and existed for decades as such.
However, most death-zones were old. No one remembered when the Village of the Dead had appeared. It was simply there. A place you couldnt fly over. That you avoided. Safe, for all that. The undead never left a miles radius of the village. Yet neither could it be destroyed.
They would rise, again and again, even from disintegration, incineration. No spell could bind them forever. No team had ever ended whatever curse lay over the land. Armies had perished, disappearing past the first streets.
So they gave up and marked it well. After allno one knew if there was anything beyond the treasure of those who had come before lying within. There was little incentive beyond glory.
Until now.
-
The sun was shining brightly. The summer waned, but the light was bright, the air warm. Yet in the first few feet of the Village of Death, the light took on a weak tone. The mortal smells of earth, greenery, vanished.
The air felt stagnant, and the odor of rot hung about. The bodies added to the putrefaction; rotten flesh and exposed organs hanging out of mangled corpses. They stood, shambling, or walked aimlesslydead and rotting. But their eyes. They glowed, or where eyes were lost, the sockets held a magical fire.
Undead. Zombies and skeletons, but predominantly the former. Ghouls, corded muscle instead of rotting flesh, moving with far more animation than their lesser kin. They rotted, but they did not fully decay, not here.
A wide, cobblestone-and-dirt street that you might see in any large, prosperous village held the undead. Crumbling houses of broken wood, not a single piece polished or free from grime or mold stood sentinel, creating walls on two sides. They looked as ruined as the undead, but like the undead, they never fully disappeared.
The shambling corpses turned, suddenly, as something interrupted the silence. Their unfocused wandering became coordinated in a moment. Their gazes baleful. They turned and moved as one. Likea swarm of insects themselves. Or a single unified mind with one intent. They looked down the street.
Then there was light. Undead stared up, mystified, transfixed for a moment as something arched out of the pallid sky. Something bright, brighter than the reduced sun. A memory from outside.
The first of [Valmiras Comets] landed like a falling star and blew a knot of zombies apart. Another struck, lobbed from far overhead and far away. One vaporized a pair of Ghouls and left a skeleton in pieces, trying to reassemble itself before the binding spell faded.
Another struck a roof and exploded it. The undead that could think, a huge, bloated Crypt Lord commanding the others on the street, were unconcerned by the magical firepower raining down. The huge amalgamation of undead, dozens of hands and legs forming its limbs, a mass of eyes squelched together, a creation of deaththe Crypt Lordwaited.
This was not a problem. The spells raining down were like rain. Soon, the power in this place would reanimate the undead. The roof of the house damaged by one of the spells would repair itself.
Both village and inhabitants could not be destroyed. They had tried many times, bombarding this place with far greater spells. Tried to remove undead one at a time, bury them, reduce the threat of this place even by one body.
They would reappear here. Flesh would knit. Bone would replace itself. Even if there was nothing to restore itselfit would still be made anew.
The Crypt Lord waited. It stared at the broken skeleton. The bones were rolling together. Thenslowlythey stopped.
The light went out in the skulls eye-sockets. The Crypt Lord stirred. It plodded over and crushed the skeletons broken skull. It stared at the bone dust, as confused as it had ever been. The sentience in the greater undead could not comprehend what was happening.
Something was wrong.
There was no time to question, even if it could have made logical assumptions and thought. The undead in the street began to move as the bombardment stopped. The Crypt Lord turned.
There, at the head of the street, something moved. Not one of the undead. It ran into the street, making sound. It was a screaming bellow, a yell.
The adventurer stopped as they saw the street full of undead. Thousands of undead crammed together began to move forwards, Ghouls leaping past stumbling zombies and skeletons. The adventurer wavered. Then they looked over their shoulder and took heart from something. The [Warrior] raised their sword, and, with another whoop
A woman with silver arms shoved past them. A two-handed sword was resting on her shoulder. She ran forwards, silently. Right behind her came a Minotaur with a pair of blades. Hot on their heels was a Stitch-man with a curved blade, shouting, followed by his bodyguards. The [Warrior] disappeared behind a dozen more adventurers.
Yvlon raised her sword as the first zombie appeared. She shoulder-charged into it, and felt something smush as she cracked its rotting frame. She hurled it down, stomped with her boot. Her foot crashed through the skull. She kept running without missing a beat. The second undead she met was a skeleton.
The [Silversteel Armsmistress] crashed through the fragile skeleton, scattering its bones. She looked around for a target and finally swung her sword. The Sword of Weight caught a leaping Ghoul and sheared halfway through its torso. The undead flipped with the force of the enchantment, and Yvlon whirled her sword down for a finishing blow.
Dorgon charged past her. The Minotaur had kept pace with the first wave of adventurers, refusing to break ranks and charge recklessly ahead. Now, he lunged, bellowing. Yvlon had gone into the fray silent. He did not.
The House of Minos! Forward! Dont slow!
He bellowed over his shoulder, ordering the first wave of adventurers so that the others hot on their heels wouldnt be bunched up. He matched actions to words. The Minotaur ran past knots of undead, his swords blurring.
Yvlon saw the flashing blades go through three zombies, slashing them apart. The other shortsword-swordbreaker was slashing on Dorgons right, carving with equal ease; cutting far further than the two shortswords should be able to reach.
[Sickle Cut]. Yvlon recognized the technique as she wrenched her sword up. She impaled a second zombie and wrenched it out. Her left hand, pure silvery metal, made a fist. She swung it left and backhanded another corpses jaw clean off its face. Grimacing, Yvlon whirled her sword, cutting with equal easeif not a Skill.
Dorgons charge only stopped when he met a bloated zombie-Gnoll as large as he was. He didnt bother stopping his scything blades, but kicked the Gnoll in the chest, then began laying about him.
The undead closed around him in an instant, only held off by the complete radius of defensive slashes the Minotaur was using to shield himself as much as attack. However, he was not strung out ahead of the others for more than a second.
A magnificent charge! Ill write about this in my memoirs!
A laughing [Prince] leapt into the center of the horde, followed by eight Stitchfolk bodyguards. Prince Zenols sword was not double-edged, but had only one killing side; the other was flat, and the sword was curved, almost like a scimitar to Yvlons eyes as she hacked a Ghouls arm from its shoulder.
Someone stabbed the Ghoul with a spear. Yvlon saw a [Spearman] move up and run forwards with a knot of adventurers.
However, not to the [Prince] and his bodyguards. Zenol had found his target: nearly thirty eight undead bunched up. He pivoted, swung his sword at waist-height. Yvlon saw the concentration on his face, the grin of his teeth on his silkflesh face. His royal garments, enchanted to replace actual armor, fluttered.
[Sword Art: The Farmers Scythe]!
Yvlon saw the sword flash, and the flicker of the enchanted steelshe slowed for a second as all thirty-eight undead slowly collapsed, falling into two pieces. Not just them; a handful of other undead were also cut.
Dead fucking gods, did you see that?
The [Spearman] shouted. Yvlon just gritted her teeth. Flashybut it worked. She only hoped Zenol had more Skills. However, his bodyguards had closed around him and were fending off the leaping Ghouls as the [Prince] saluted Dorgon. The Minotaur ignored him, keeping his swords slashingright up until Yvlon hit the lines of the undead.
The woman put her fist through a zombies headstared at her gore-covered arm embedded squarely in the skulland began to shake it. The head came loose and Yvlon found a skull embedded on her arm as she gripped her sword and cut around her. Dorgon blinked at that for a second. Yvlon, gritting her teeth, put her sword down and hit another undead with her shoulder.
It was almost more effective than swinging her sword. Her armsher enchanted steel armor was weaker than her metal flesh. With every swing of her sword, she hacked apart an undead. She ripped the zombies head off her arm, gagging.
She didnt know her strength. The Yvlon of old wouldnt have managed to punch through a skull and flesh, even rotten, like that.
Everyone move aside! Im using my Skill! [Jab Barrage]!
Another adventurer shouted, launching into a flurry of stabbing attacks that knocked several undead down or backwards. More were using their Skills to clear undead back, but some fought like Yvlon with only grit and muscle, relying on sharp weapons to do their job and holding back.
The first street of undead was falling to pieces as fast as the adventuers could attack. Only the Ghouls even had a chance; shambling zombies, for all their strength, werent fast or tough enough to face down Gold-ranks.
Skeletons were faster, but fragile, weaker. The only undead Yvlon could see that was a threat was
There! Crypt Lord! Who will take it?
Prince Zenol pointed, having stopped to let his bodyguards fight. He surveyed the battle, shaking gore off his sword and choosing his target. He looked around, positioned himself to leap forwards
Yvlon ran at the Crypt Lord. Her sword came up. Dorgon, sprinting forwards, saw her turn her head. Her blonde hair was already filthy beneath the steel helmet she wore; he had a similar helmet. Zenol had none.
Ill get it!
He nodded and slowed. Yvlon braced as the Crypt Lord surged forwards. Black bloodpoisonran from an open maw of teeth, which were broken bones. Sixty eyes all fused and rotten together into a single staring eye gazed at her as a huge hand rose with crushing force. A Silver-rank threat for an entire team. However
[Curve of the Moon]!
Yvlons sword art was not a horizontal slash, but a crescent. Like the name, those watching saw a huge arc slash through the air. Zenol raised his arm, stopping his leap. He blinked.
The Crypt Lord was down. Yvlon had gone two thirds of the way through it. Shed raised her sword for a second strike, but there was no need. It was already motionless, the binding spell broken.
Some of the younger or lower-leveled adventuers stopped to stare. The rest just forged ahead. Dorgon grunted as he shook filth from his armor and blades. He looked down the street.
First street cleared! Advance!
He began striding forwards. Yvlon was already running at the next zombie. Prince Zenol, grinning, motioned to his bodyguards.
Leave the lesser undead! We wont fall behind!
They surged forwards as one, leading the way in the first wave as more adventurers, Silver-ranks some of them, came forwards, clearing the undead still standing.
It was too easy. Then againthey were lesser undead. If they had each reanimated, regenerated flesh as fast as you cut into them, healing while your sword was buried in their guts? That might have slowed the Gold-ranks.
Then again, perhaps not. The first rank of adventuers reached the end of the street and turned. The [Spearman] swore again as he saw a second street, just as crowded, identical to the first in almost every way. He slowed, but Dorgon charged with Yvlon and Zenol.
He repeated his charge, beat-for-beat. The Minotaur hacked through undead, using the exact same Skill as he had less than a minute ago. Yvlon blinked at him as she hacked, efficient with her enhanced strength and sword, but unable to use her sword art for nearly a half-hour.
[Sickle Cut] is always active. Dont waste your Skills!
Dorgon snarled as an undead landed a glancing slash on his light metal armor. He pivotedbeheaded it. He moved beautifully, every motion a cut from one arm or the otheror both. Yvlon had seldom met warriors capable of using weapons in both arms properly like Dorgon without sacrificing something.
The House of Minos adventurer-captain from afar. Technically Silver-rank. Handpicked for her group by Yvlon for the melee wave.
[Twinblade Linebreaker]. Shed known he was good.
Prince Zenol clapped his hands, laughing. He was just as unpredictable, but Yvlon had accepted his request to join her group. He pointed.
My servants, clear this rabble. We have to entrench our [Archers] and [Mages]! Go forwards! [Ferocious Command]!
The eight bodyguards charged with howls. Yvlon thought she saw tendons and muscles bulge as they cleaved forwards in a berserk fury. Zenol rested on his curved sword. She strode forwards, leaving him behind as he stopped the [Spearman] and pointed him towards a flanking position.
They were moving so fast. Yvlon heard a voice as she stepped back for a moment.
lon? Yvlon!
Im here.
She raised the speaking stone to her mouth. She had been issued with one, along with every wave leader. Somewhere else, Jelaqua was shouting.
Were running through them like [Sailors] at a brothel!
What?
Were slaughtering them!
The excited Selphid clarified. Yvlon heard shouting through the speaking stone, an echo of what she was hearing around her.
Theres no reanimation spell! Were pushing down our streetHalrac! Start moving up the archers! Get them onto the roofs and well secure! Dont push too far ahead! If you get to an intersection, try to find out where we are! We need to take this place piece by pieceno pockets of undead behind us.
Got it. Strategist Soew, do you hear that?
I hear. I am moving up the [Mages]; they will hold off bombardment. Do not advance more than three streets so far. I am attempting to map your progress.
Understood.
Yvlon strode forward again, dropping the stone back to dangle from the bracelet. She was already lifting her sword for another cut.
-
The adventurers raiding the Village of the Dead attacked so fast that the projection of the battle on television for three minutes was a [Mage] jogging past dismembered body parts, incinerated or otherwise spell-damaged undead, and Silver-ranks stabbing the last wounded undead yet to fully die.
By the time they reached the front rank of the fighting, Rags had returned from the hill. She, Numbtongue, and Mrsha joined a crowd in the common room of The Wandering Inn.
Niers Astoragon watched from a beam, cursing and trying to get a better view. They were not the only ones, of course.
-
In Pallass, Chaldion was observing from Pallass war room, although this was not, strictly speaking, a military engagement that affected Pallass in any way.
Someone could have pointed this out. In theory, any one of the [Tacticians], [Strategists], and other, lesser members of Pallass military could upbraid Chaldion, the [Grand Strategist] of Pallass, for using the room for recreation.
No one did. In truth, Chaldion would have usually preferred to watch elsewhere, but the bar where hed normally have ready food and a better audience was closed. There were few other places where he could have someone fetch him a drink whenever he wanted.
-
In Oteslia, Lyonette was gripping the table so hard Mivifa saw her knuckles turning white. The Oldblood Drake saw itbut she herself barely turned away from the scrying orb. She was many things, but she was an adventurer. Saliss, Mivifa, and the two Gentlemen Callers were glued to the scrying orb.
But where Mivifa was passionate for fellow adventurers, the romance, excitement, glory of this raid, it was different. For the rest
It was personal.
-
Ilvriss watched as well, clenching his claws. Hed stopped to watch and had ordered camp struck, despite it being only midday.
Adventurer Tessa, thoughts?
Theyre killing undead. Zombies, Ghouls, and skeletons. Crypt Lords? You could do that with Bronze-ranks. Probably. Also, its Shriekblade.
Ilvriss nodded. Hed seen nothing so far to alarm him. Yet he listened as Drassi, panting from the fight in the broadcasting booth, spoke loudly.
This raid is ongoingif youre just tuning in, you are watching an assault on the Village of the Dead, live, covered by me, Drassi, and uhJoseph.
Um.
The [Football Coach] made a non-sequitur of a sound. Drassi went on, with practice and natural talent, her eyes never leaving her own view of the battle.
Sir Relz and Noass are not covering this event or whatever boring thing they were working on because they are not allowed in here. Heres what we know: the Village of the Dead is a death-zone, famous for the regenerating, nigh-immortal undead. Im not seeing that today. Are you, Joseph?
Uhuhthey look pretty dead to me.
Yes! And not undead! We can only speculate unless we get an interview, and the raid is ongoing so you can kiss your tail on that idea, but it may be the adventurers have found a way to negate what is going on here! In which case, they might be further into the Village of the Dead than any other group has been in living memory! You are seeing this live if you are just tuning in! We are accepting [Messages] and live-calls from the audience if you have anything to saystay tuned! It looks like heavy fighting in frontbut nothing deadly yet, right Joseph?
Are those Ghouls? And Crypt Lords? They look pretty
Gold-ranks eat Ghouls for breakfast. Stick with me, Joseph!
-
It was an event. Noit was the event of the hour. It was also live, so it meant it was the event the world needed to see. Real news.
In fact, it was so much more important than any other conceivable thing in the world at this very moment that this truth of television became a self-fulfilling truth in actuality.
Two vast armies were lined up on arid ground. The heat of the long summer had baked the earth a bit too much, so that it became too close to sand in places; treacherous footing in an engagement that might mean life or death when a single misstep would provoke an opening.
Accordingly, the heavy-infantry of one army had been staggered, to bait a chariot charge from the heavy-contingent of Stitchfolk on the other side into the difficult terrain for wheeled vehicles.
The King of Destruction was facing another of Nerrhavias armies, and the hordes of Nerrhavias Fallen had begun to push even Reim by sheer weight of its powerful military, if not any one single victory.
Tense Hemp-caste [Soldiers] were waiting, as their counterparts of Reim held their position, having thunderously cheered as their [King] took up a position close to the front in the vanguard with his two subordinates, Venith Crusland and Maresar Crusland.
The Stitchfolk [General], arrayed with his Silk-caste command, was waiting for Reim to charge on his entrenched position. Yet no attack had come in the last fifteen minutes.
Nowhe watched the messenger with the white flag stop and hand something to his people. It was conveyed to him after a long wait of minutes where it was analyzed for hostile spells, poison, or the like.
Yet from the King of Destruction? The [General] was not surprised it was a letter, but he had no idea what it could be until he unfolded it. He read it to his subordinates out loud.
General Murab, I greet you with all due civility and whatnot, to present you with an appealing offer.
Although our respective Kingdoms are at war, and I have sworn to carry the battle to Nerrhavias heart, and no doubt your [Queen] has instructed you to take my headwould you consider a temporary ceasefire for a day, that we might watch the raid on the Village of the Dead?
I would consider it a great personal favor, as it is, Im sure youll agree, not to be missed. If you agree, I shall pull back my army until this event is over, upon which time we will reengage. Do let me know by raising a flag of truce if you agree.
Flos Reimarch, King of Reim
General Murab slowly peered at the distant [King], and saw a hand wave at him. He turned to his [Strategist], and then glanced at the scrying orb with similar coverage of the event in his tent. He cleared his throat, uncertainly.
-
The King of Destruction was not the only monarch to halt an impending battle due to the raid, strangely. High King Perric himself negotiated a similar truce with Fetohep of Khelt. Both monarchs sat back, with drink or company or simply a scrying device.
Not just them; the Titan of Baleros, the Cyclops of Pallass, King Itorin II of Ailendamus and his royal family, the Bannermare of Baleros, Admiral Seagrass, the Blighted King and Queen
They watched. For sport or amusement or because it might aid them in some way. However, for someit was more than idle curiosity or a desire to be part of a communal event.
Nsiia sat cross-legged, ignoring everything but the broadcast. It might surprise many to hear of it, given that a war of far greater scale was ongoing. However, those people forgot who these [Kings] and [Queens] had been. Perric, Flos, Fetohep, Nsiia
Adventurers and warriors. They saw the adventurers risking everything in a place of infamy. Near-certain death. Yet what they craved was heroism. Bravery. Inspiration.
Victory or defeat. Let it be glorious.
It was their entertainment. In person? It was
-
Levil, team captain of the Pithfire Hounds was not in the first wave of adventurers. Or the second. Or the third.
The fourth was his. It made sense. He was a Silver-rank. Not Gold; the waves of four dozen adventurers at most were meant to go in succession. The first group went in hot, fought until they needed to fall back, and let the second wave fill in the gaps, fighting together if need be.
Standard, good tactics. It wasnt one place either; four different spots were subject to the adventurers attacks.
Four, for four hundred adventurers. Silver-ranks backed up the Gold with sheer numbers. But not all the firepower had been committed to the first push. Levil, for instance, as a captain and [Fire Mage] who could cast [Fireball], was considered more valuable than a [Warrior] in the Silver-rank category. So he was one of the vanguard whod be a hammer to metal.
Similarly, the ranged-adventurers with spells and arrows who could attack indirectly with volley or lobbing spells from afar were their own group. One was led by Halrac the Grim, another by the highest-leveled [Wizard] who could coordinate linked spells like the [Valmiras Comet] storm that had hit the village first.
It had looked impressive, raining down on the small settlement. Yetas the first rank charged and Levil saw Yvlon and the other Gold-ranks disappear into the village, he realized something.
He couldnt hear the fighting. They should have been within a hundred feet of the waves waiting to go in. Yet it was as if they had been swallowed by the village.
Theyre alright! Dont worry! Speaking stones are active. Theyre tearing apart the undead.
That came from the second wave in their position. A cheerful Gold-ranka woman called Brigandareassured the others. Levil relaxed slightly.
If it was bad, wed have seen some of them tele out. Guess its a good sign we havent.
An [Axewoman] nodded, and a few of the Silver-ranks shifted nervously.
Tele, as in teleport. Along with coordinating the attack, Soew, the strange Owl [Strategist] had made insurance policies. Speaking stones, enchanted by [Mages]. Also[Lesser Teleport] scrolls, or even beacons that the few [Mages] capable of the spell could use to save the adventurers in trouble.
It was all good, in short. An organized attack, despite the chaos of last night. Theyd arrived at the village at midday and were sieging it. It was justLevil checked his breathing.
His entire team was with him, except for Makki and Mousey and Bram, their [Beast Tamer]. The dogs werent right for fighting massed-undead. So they were on bodyguard-duty for the [Mages] in case undead came at them. Levil knew Bram was upset, but it made sense.
Theyve cleared a street!
For the first few minutes, it was all good news. The adventurers in the fourth wave, the last, heard nothing but progress. This was even being televised; they saw a [Mage] run in, and half of them waved to be seen.
Not Levil. He was just holding his wand in an increasingly-sweaty hand. He wanted to be in the fighting now, not waiting! His entire battle strategy was go in hot. He threw [Fireballs], burnt through his mana supply as fast as he couldand then switched to lesser spells or mana potioned up. The faster the enemy died, the better.
The antithesis to this kind of battle, obviously. Levil listened. He began to heara pattern.
Third street down! No contact yetsecond wave, with me! Were moving up. Stop running! They dont need usyet!
Briganda shouted. She led the second group of mixed Gold and Silver-ranks forwards at a trot. The other adventurers cheered. Levil didnt get the updates, but someone actually had a scrying orb and he could hear that attractive Drake talking. Apparently some of the people were from Liscor and had autographs theyd been swapping last night.
another street down! But the undead arent stopping! There must have been thousands dead already! Theyve packed the streets! Joseph, what do you think?
How many Crypt Lords is that, Drassi?
My counts at twenty dead here alone. Thatsa good point. ThatsI want to say thats a lot of Crypt Lords. Can anyone confirm? Hold on
Wave three. Move in. Follow my directions. I need you to take a side-street and support the first and second waves.
Soews voice made everyone jump. The Gold-rank leader of the third wave checked himself, asked questions for half a minute, then advanced. Levils heart jumped, but he waited.
Every time a street was cleared, someone would shout it, and the waiting adventurers would cheer or laugh. Some had even taken bets after the first three had gone down in succession. However, nearly twenty minutes into the fighting, Levil heard the announcements coming in more slowly.
if youre just tuning inVillage of the Deadthat has to be at least a thousand undead. Im told this a multi-pronged attack. Waitwe have one of our people in studio saying Im off. Two thousand undead, six hundred and forty eight. Are you serious? Theres so many
Fourth wave!
Levil heard the shout. He saw their group commander check himself.
Were needed. Follow me!
They entered the Village of the Dead. Levil was closer to the front; he was tasked with casting [Fireball] if he saw a good target and falling back. His wand was raised
But of course, the first street was already cleared. In fact, Halrac the Grim himself was there, his face classically expressionless, with nearly thirty [Archers]. Levil felt silly as the rest of his team stopped, behind him.
Wheres the fighting?
One adventurer asked eagerly. Inside the Village of the Dead, they could hear the fighting at last. In the distance, it sounded like. They were already moving past the [Archers], but Halrac stopped them.
Halt. Youre needed here.
Confused, the fourth wave of adventurers stopped. Halrac was talking with the adventurer in charge. He seemed to know the captain.
Nailren. Yvlons wave is stymied in the fighting. Too many intersections. They want us to start clearing out undead. There are at least ten thousand visible.
The Gnoll Silver-rank growled.
You must be joking. How many are in the streets?
Theyre packed. They want us on the roofsthe [Mages] are using targeting spells, but we need a line of sight or at least a good position.
The Gnoll [Archer] nodded. The adventurer shifted as the two conferred. What was the problem? Halrac eyed the house behind him. He lifted the speaking stone to his lips.
Strategist Soew. Are you sure the houses are clear?
I had [Dangersense]-capable adventurers check them. They went into thirteen; all have been empty. I am keeping some adventurers checking, but we have seen nothing.
Halrac folded his arms.
I dont like it. Thats why youre here, Nailren.
The Gnoll nodded, quick to adapt. He shouted.
Fighting formation! Lets cover Adventurer Halrac! I need volunteersno. Just knock the walls down, yes? Whos got a hammer? Spells?
Two adventurers, including the [Axewoman] and Keima, who was an [Axe Fighter], instantly volunteered. Levil raised his voice.
Ive got [Fireball]! Let me! Where do you want it?
Halracs gaze swung to Levil. He inspected a house; pointed.
Blow the wall down.
It took three [Fireballs], which taxed Levil and surprised him. The houses were sturdy. However, the smoldering hole revealed nothing but a rotten inside. Halrac grunted. He had been covering the entrance; meanwhile, Nailren had set more to breaking down doors.
Eight homesall empty. Just as Soew had said. The [Strategist] was talking to Halrac when Levil, panting, lowered the mana potion from his lips. He probably shouldnt have made it seem like casting [Fireball] in quick succession was easy.
Nothing. We are boarding up the doors as we go, or sealing them with wall-spells, Captain Halrac. I am not a fool. However, our assumption was the Village of the Dead was on a time-limit so we did not secure our flanks. If the undead truly arent regenerating, perhaps we should consider stopping and fortifying after an hour and making this a loss-less war of attrition?
Maybe. I dont like the empty houses. How many casualties so far?
Three. Silver-ranks, all.
Halrac made a sound. He kept staring into the empty houses, but the adventurers whod gone inall [Rogues] or [Thieves]hadnt detected traps.
Levil chanced a glance into the homes. This Village of the Dead wasunsettling. He understood Halracs worry.
It looked like a humble, villagers home. Albeit one long gone to rot. The floorboards were old, covered in mold or blacksomething. There was furniture, what little of it remained, even glass swallowed by spider webs. Dust
Even so. Halrac was talking to Nailren.
Ive fought undead before. I know one more tactic they might be usingburrowing. How sure are we theyre not going to tunnel up and attack from below?
The Gnoll bared his teeth.
Im from Pallass, Captain Halrac, yes? I know how our army lost against the Goblin Lord in the mountains. I checked; there arent any noticeable holes or undeadeven in the root cellars or basements.
The Gold-rank [Veteran Scout] bit his lip. However, he had put several of the adventurer-archers to climbing one of the roofs to lob enchanted arrows at the street beyond already. He justdidnt like it.
Neither did Levil, the longer he stared into one of the empty houses. The fact that there were absolutely no undead within bothered him. He expected the houses to be filled! The streets had been so congested with bodies that theyd had to be piled to one side or destroyed just so adventurers could march through.
And yetnothing. Halrac lifted the stone.
Captain Halrac, we need your [Archers]. Two of the four attacking waves are falling back.
Why?
His brows snapped together. Soews voice was calmbut insistent.
Overwhelming undead.
Levil heard an oath. He saw someone pointing at the scrying orb and saw the view the rest of the world was gettingironically better than his.
-
A wave of undead was forcing Yvlons team back. Mrsha clung to Ulvama, squeezing her so hardand Selys, clinging to them. Both ignored her sharp claws, as intent on the battle as everyone else.
Ancestors.
Selys had seen undead fighting in the battle with Skinner, and rarely before that. Howeverthis wasnt Skinners thousands. This was
Fall back!
Yvlon was bellowing. She swung her sword and beheaded six zombies. Yet the bodies which collapsed couldnt even fall properly. It was a wave in every sense of the word; a wall of zombies, so close together that it was all flesh and grasping arms.
[Lightning Bolt] incoming!
Yvlon flung herself out of the way, and the bolt of electricity frieddozens upon dozens. Area-of-attack spells and Skills were slaughtering hundreds. Yet there were so many.
Ghouls were crawling over the heads of the other undead, bounding off rooftops. Skeletons were clambering upwards too, launching arrows.
They were the real threat; the wall of zombies and Crypt Lords were a deadly, but slow force. They kept advancing despite the attack, while the faster undead sped along rooftops.
We need those [Archers]! Prince Zenol
For the glory of Nerrhavias Fallen!
A laughing [Prince] leapt, landed on a rooftop, and cut two Ghouls apart. Dozens were on him in seconds, but he bought the other adventurers time to climb and contest this new avenue.
We have hundreds of Ghouls coming at us and were under ranged fire! Halrac
Yvlons voice was so clear to Mrsha. The Gnoll grabbed Selysthen gaped. A bright arrow flashedblew apart a knot of skeletons. The view of the scrying orb swung up to a distant [Archer], a man seemingly holding nothing but air.
The invisible bow! Mrsha saw Halrac and the adventurers loose again, and now magical arrows were blowing apart undead. She cheered, throwing up her paws. She clocked Selys in the jaw.
-
There were a lot of damn undead! Revi wasnt in wave four. She wasnt even in the village. She was a [Summoner], so she stood on a hill hundreds of paces away from the Village of the Dead and watched the artillery-[Mages] lobbing spells at the village.
Some were even sipping tea, chattering, or watching the scrying orb as they did. None were incautious though; they kept an eye out for undead coming this way. Only eight Ghouls had made it past the fighting, though.
This isnt thousands. These are tens of thousands! Maybe a hundred thousand, who knows?
She spoke rapidly, to those around her, not able to relax. Geni, the veteran [Wizard] with grey hair, safely in the back ranks, patted Revis arm in a kind way.
I know, dear. But theyre not regenerating. Thats something.
If they were, wed never get through here. Imagine fighting that string-shit with all of them coming back? No wonder an army never made it past! I dont like it.
The fact that aso many undead can hide in there, and that we are not hearing anything? Mm. It bodes.
A rather patrician-type [Mage] lowered his teacup. Patrician was a word Revi had never used, but it fit this [Mage] to a tee. He was the classic Wistram [Mage]and he was indeed from Wistram Academy. His attitude, from his spectacles perched on his nose, to the chair and tea he was sipping, was the exact reason [Mages] got a bad rap.
What do you mean by that?
Revi growled at him. The [Mage] gave her the arched eyebrow that made her want to kick him in the shins.
I meanthe Village of the Dead clearly has a spatial enchantment on it. Powerful too; it must be far vaster on the inside than the outside.
You mean, a dimensional bubble? Like Wistram has? Moths eat me.
Revi wanted to pace, but Geni patted her arm.
Save your energy, Revi, dear.
She knew the old woman was right. She was looking bad; the other [Mages] were glancing at her and she was a veteran! The [Summoner] tried to relax, but Revi was antsy. She hadnt summoned anythingbecause Soew hadnt asked her to, or a wave leader. Her mana ran out, so she was standing in the spell circles which ambiently drew mana from the environment, perfect for [Mages]. She was waiting.
As it turned out, she didnt have to wait long. Revi didnt know what triggered the changemaybe Halracs volleys from the rooftop. But then she heard half a dozen horn calls from the scrying orb.
Not from the distant village. It was too silent. The speaking stones chattered to life in an instant. Revi heard multiple voices, all screaming the same thing.
out of the houses! I thought you ch
Give me bombardment on my street! Were falling back! Im at
fucking everywh
Her head rose. Revis cotton-skin crawled. She mouthed the word at the same time as everyone else.
Ambush.
-
Levils wave was about to go and join the fighting on the front, having seen Halracs group onto the roofs when the ambush occurred.
He even saw it happening. The [Fire Mage]s head turned. He felt it.
Nailren! Im getting a huge magical signatureis someone casting a spell?
The Gnoll halted. The adventurers lifted their weapons.
I feel it too! What is that?
A [Mage] pointed. Every head turned tothe abandoned houses.
Oh shit. Oh fuck. Halrac was right!
Keima muttered. The adventurers looked around. What was coming? Invisible undead? Levils eyes were widean adventurer loosed an arrow, but it struck nothing?
From the ground? He stared down, and another adventurer shook her head. A Dwarf? Dasha of Vuliel Drae raised her voice.
Ive got [Tremorsense]! I dont sense em below us! Whats the magic?
Its
Levil had no formal magical schooling. He had no way of identifying the nuance in the spell, only aware it was there. The answer came in a moment anyways.
He saw a golden flash of light. Blindingthe [Fire Mage] raised his hand to his eyes. When he lowered itthere they were.
Undead. They filled the house he had blasted open. So tightly bunched-up that some instantly spilled out of the house. Ghouls, zombies, skeletonsagain, lesser undead. But so many. And that was one house.
Shit.
Levil recoiled. He raised his wand, and a jet of flame lashed out instantly. It burned through the crowd ahead of him. Then Levil turned his head.
Every house in the street had just filled up. Nowout the undead came.
Halrac! Undead below you! Get back! Everyone, fall back!
Nailren bellowed. He swung up his bow and loosed a shot which turned into three. The scatter-shot Skill blasted zombies backwards.
Mass teleportation? Thats impossible! Thats
Ullica, the other [Mage] in the Pithfire Hounds, had gone into hysterics. Two adventurers near him were just staring, transfixed. Levil whirled.
Ullica! Fight! [Fireball]!
The detonation and blast of heat and force snapped the other adventurers out of it. Silver-ranks fought to desperately stem the flow of undead from the houses. Insill, Dasha, Pekona, Larr, and Anith, the entire team of Vuliel Drae, were fighting with the Pithfire Hounds. Back-to-back in a circle in the street.
Halracs group was now surrounded by climbing undead. They were loosing enchanted arrows all around them, killing countless undead with each arrow, but Ghouls were climbing with skeletons.
Were dead!
Insill wailed, the Drake [Rogue] slashing around him. Pekona just slashed undead in half, the [Blade Dancer] cutting down a score in an ever-widening circle by herself.
Where are the Horns?
For some reason, Larr, their Gnollish [Archer] wanted to know. He growled as he shot; already spells were blasting undead to pieces. He snarled at Anith, their Jackal Beastkin leader.
Where are the Horns? Wheres Eldertuin the Fortress? Elia Arcsinger? All these Gold-ranks cant detect an ambush or deal with these undead? I dont see them taking the lead for all their talk! Theyre just one of the teams out here! Tell me theyre further in
Nailren, help incoming. Dont move from your spot.
A female voice spoke out of the stone on the Gnolls wrist. Levil recognized it. What did she mean by that, th
One of the houses exploded as a huge paw made of ice and bone smashed through it. Undead were crushed under a single crushing blow. Then the other paw came down.
Levil, the Pithfire Hounds, Vuliel Drae, and the other adventurers looked up. A huge, bestial bear-monstrosity roared, and the sound was that of avalanches and grinding ice. Its body was made of ivory. Ivorycoated in ice.
Instantly, Levil raised his wand and fired a [Flame Arrow] at the face. He didnt know what undead that was, but
Nailren grabbed his arm.
Dont! Thats on our side!
What? Thats undead!
Levil bellowed back. The Gnoll didnt bother explaining. He just pointed and Levil saw the giant creation move.
The giant undead was on all fours, so vast it was taller than the uniform houses of the village. It was shaped like a bearif a bear had been upgraded to be even more destructive and monstrous. Then, someone had taken the frame of the Bone Behemoth and coated it in ice instead of flesh.
Frostmarrow Behemoth. It tore through the first house and rammed through the second without slowing. Undead in its way turned to paste. The adventurers saw it circle, clumsilythen run down a street. It didnt need to even attack; it just crushed the undead with its sheer weight. It turned again, and began tearing another house apart.
Levil stared so long that it was Ullicas turn to shake his shoulder. He raised his wand and began blasting undead with a will.
The momentum had turned. The ambushed fourth wave didnt just have the Frostmarrow Behemoth to thank, although it was more than enough. Howeverall the resistance on the other end of the street was vanishing too.
Levil saw walls of ice shooting upwards, covering the fronts of the trapped houses. At the same time, the massed undead whod climbed out began collapsing. He saw a Ghoul turnthen its neck snapped. It fell, dead, and only then did Levil catch sight of the two [Mages] running to relieve the fighters.
Ceria pointed, and [Ice Walls] blocked undead in the houses. By her side, Pisces held his rapier in one hand. However, he hadnt bothered to use it yethe just pointed and undead fell, necks snapped. A skeleton resisted the blow, so the [Necromancer] lifted his rapier and stabbed it through the eye-socket.
Wheres Yvlon?
Up aheadshes fine. Were going that way. Control the Frostmarrow Behemoth! Youre getting it lost!
Im sorry if Im directionally challenged when you say that way, oh great and glorious captain
The two squabbling [Mages] shouted at each other. They strode down the street as the Frostmarrow Behemoth whirled. Then Ceria lifted her fingers.
Lets go, then!
A rapid volley of [Ice Spikes], as fast as Levil could throw the weaker [Flame Arrow] spell, picked off Ghouls on a rooftop. Pisces nodded. He vanishedappeared, stabbing a Ghoul through the head. More undead collapsed around him.
Ahead of him, the Frostmarrow Behemoth charged through a house. Pisces regarded it, and turned to Ceria. She shrugged.
Shortcut.
They ran through the opening, ice and rapier cutting down the undead the giant creation didnt manage to squash. Fourth wave watched in silence as the two Gold-rank adventurers rushed deeper into the Village of Death.
Hey. Larr? I found the Horns.
Dasha nudged the Gnoll after a moment. He didnt really reply.
-
Frostmarrow Behemoth going in. [Summoners], send your creations forward!
Revi didnt need to be told that. Everyone had seen the giant monster, the biggest thing on the field, hit the Village of Death. It had vanished inside, proving the village was a lot bigger due to magic; Revi should have been able to easily see it no matter where it went.
Theyre using undead? Wh-what was that thing? Thats not a regular undead.
The poncy [Mage] looked well and truly spooked. Revi just bared her teeth. She was one of three [Summoner]-type classes, and the other two had already called familiars and the battle-golem. Revi was the only Gold-rank among them.
She breathed in and out, calling upon her magical power.
Stitch me sideways. Theyre using their best cards now? Okayin that case
She reached for the first, the biggest summoning catalyst in her repertoire. Newly-added too. Geni peered at the amber-encased object.
My word, my dear. Is that
The old woman hesitated. She looked up as the light flashed. The Wistram [Mage] screamed.
It turned out he was arachnophobic. And this?
The lead [Wizard] looked up and nearly fired on this creation. He craned his neck up and backed up slowly. So did the other [Mages].
What is that thing?
A Baleros adventurer looked well and truly spooked, which was ironic given the life on that continent. Someone else replied softly.
Thats a Shield Spider. Dead gods. I had no idea they got that big.
Revi grinned, feeling drained suddenly. She swayed as the mother of all Shield Spidersliterallycrawled down the hill. It wasnt as large as the Frostmarrow Behemoth. But it was larger than any other thing on the field.
Revi my dear. Thats new?
Thats new. But its not all. Watchwatch this.
The [Summoner] croaked. She raised her catalyst, took a breathand shouted.
[Summoned Monster: I Call Your Kind].
The light flashed again. This time, the Wistram [Mage] went into a fit. That was partly Revis fault; she hadnt meant for every spider to crawl over him. He was just in the way.
A wave of glowing spiders scuttled in the wake of the largest one. Hundreds of smaller Shield Spiders scuttled down the hill, some as small as Revis palm, others far larger. They streamed towards the Village of Death.
What the f
Someone breathed afterwards. Revi felt the spiders begin dying the instant they entered the Village of Deaththe lesser ones. The larger one began tearing undead apart the second it entered. She felt relieved about the lesser ones dying.
Less of a burden on her. She swayed as old Geni looked at her.
Hey Geni? Give me a second. Im just gonna
Revi collapsed in the spell circle, trying to draw as much mana from it as possible. Geni bent over her, anxiously.
Are you okay, Revi? Youve overdone it.
Me? Im a veteran. No, noIm just resting.
Revi lay in the mana circle, unable to get up for a few minutes. When she did rise, with Genis help, she smiled gratefully at the older woman. She nodded at the village in the distance.
Cantlet them show us up that easily, right? When the Shield Spiders wipe, Ill start calling on smaller summons. Cant let the rookies beat us.
No indeed, my dear.
Geni lied as she helped Revi stand.
-
Indeed. The massed-undead and sneak-attack from every angle was meant to wipe out large, embattled armies. The lack of regeneration was keeping it from being a disaster, but adventurers were falling back.
Falling back to defensive positions to rally.
Falling back, not retreating, but falling
Were falling back, I said!
One of the Gold-ranks bellowed. The first wave was in retreat. However, something was off. The second wave, which had moved in to support them wasnt falling back.
I said, pull back! Are you even listening?
No.
Something burst up from the ground. A pillar of stone; undead rained down around it. The wall of flesh advanced, biting, grabbing for something to kill. The wall ran into a staff. Thena hand covered in vines.
The wall of undead stopped. Moore strode into them and began tearing them apart. On the other side, the advance halted as well.
[Whirlwind of Blows]! [Impactful Blows]! Rampage!
A Raskghar roaredbut it wasnt a Raskghar. Jelaqua advanced, her upgraded steel flail sending bodies flying with all the force of Moores blows. As they moved up, the two Halfseekers were covered by a flickering shadow that stabbed Ghouls and other undead trying to hit them from behind. Last of all came the Drakeno, the second Selphid.
[Sticky Web], [Fire Wheel], [Lightning Bolt], [Acid Orb][Acid Orb], [Acid Orb], [Acid Orb], [Acid Orb], [Acid Orb]
Ulinde chanted. The [Spellslinger] was throwing multiple spells around from the two wands she held, but then gave up and melted the undead by lobbing the glowing orbs into their back ranks.
The Gold-rank adventurers stopped and realized their retreat was a flight fromnothing.
Cover our flanks if you dont want to advance!
Seborn appeared and snapped at one of the adventurers. Shame-faced, the man waved his team back into position. Of all the HalfseekersMoore was advancing fastest. He swung his bloody quarterstaff like an axe, face set, as if each blow was a reason for living. Relief. He had already advanced another dozen paces, ignoring the zombies trying to bite through his [Armor of Thorns].
-
In another street. Yvlons wave began advancing once more. They had just been joined by the second-wave. Their response to the overwhelming undead numbers?
[Valmiras Comet].
Typhenous pointed. A hole appeared in the street. Glowing, melted remains and disintegrated bodies in the path of the spell. The [Mage] bowed, quite courtly.
Miss Byres?
Thanks.
She stalked forwards. Briganda moved up, striking her hatchet to her shield in a challenging, ringing sound.
Lets go! Come on, you lot!
Adventurers charged once more.
-
The third of the three-pronged attacks had stopped dead in its tracks. Undead came from the houses, and they were busy sealing them back up. However, while the third group had stoppedthey hadnt actually retreated.
Again, and again, the undead came. Crypt Lords now, pushing through zombies and Ghouls, squashing them. Skeletons with bows shooting arrows with lethal points, if not accuracy or the same expertise as the living.
They broke. They falteredthey bounced off a line in the sand.
Eldertuin the Fortress had been in the second wave. However, he was now in the vanguard, standing and fighting with the huge tower shield covering him. However, the shield itself was only part of his protection.
Copies of his shield rose from the ground; a sparkling barrier protected him. His might was the mace he swung, and it did fell Crypt Lords. But the Named Adventurer was his nickname. Adventurers fought in a line, enjoying his protections, stalemating the undead.
The real damage came from above. Yet another sparkling arrow landed, and some adventurers cheered as it blew apart another Crypt Lord.
Elia Arcsinger saluted Eldertuin from her rooftop, which her team was loosing arrows from. The two Named Adventurers nodded to each other, coolly.
-
The last group had suffered hardest at first. Lacking the intensity of the Horns, Halfseekers, or Griffon Hunt, who were all pushing forwards with determination, or the two Named Adventurers, the majority Silver-rankerswho had been meant as a diversion anywayshad fallen back fast, taking the only casualties thus far.
Now, they were advancing. It would be charitable to say they were fighting. But half of the fighting was just staring up at the Frostmarrow Behemoths rear as it tore its way forwards.
Another street! Damn itand we havent even found another of the attack groups! How big is this place?
Ceria Springwalker groused, shooting [Ice Spikes] into another intersection of undead coming their way. However, she had no time to waste mana on the hordes of undead and a single-attack spell.
She raised a hand. A wall of ice engulfed the front rank of zombies, immobilizing them, and thickened, quickly blocking the street. Some undead tried to come over the topbut Pisces pointed and two bolts of light fried the Ghouls and he snapped the necks of the rest.
[Ice Wall] up! Put those barricades down!
Ceria shouted. The adventurers behind her scrambled to secure the gap in the time before her spell vanished, installing the metal-and-wood barricades to stem the undead flow.
Pisces to Strategist Soew. We have another street full of undead. Requesting bombardment.
The [Necromancer] spoke into the speaking stone. The Owls voice replied.
It will be done. Please turn left at the next street; we are attempting to link you to another attack group.
Pisces turned back to the Behemoths advance. He spotted several undead coming past the Behemoth and pointed to each one. Their necks snapped.
This is sounsatisfying. I suppose when one is the most capable adventurer on the field though, one must put up with such easy victories.
He sniffed. Ceria frowned at him. However, it was true that Pisces could just point and kill undeadif not Crypt Lords.
I thought you had to snap your fingers to do that, Pisces? Why is it just pointing?
The young man paused.
My fingers hurt from snapping too much.
Ceria and Pisces blinked at each other as the Frostmarrow Behemoth moved ahead. Yvlon was fighting in her street. Which left
Ksmvr? Come in. Where are you?
Fighting, Captain Ceria.
The voice came over the speaking stone as Ceria switched communication devices. She looked up at the rooftops, frowning. Pisces stopped as well.
Fighting? Ksmvr, I told you to fall back.
This is not Ksmvr. Excuse me, you are breaking up. I have found our adjacent attacking force. Six streets over.
Ksmvr!
-
Elia Arcsinger was picking her next shot when her daughter pointed.
Is that a jumping undead? Nowait! Look! Mother!Fôllôw new stories at novelhall.com
I told you to call m
The Named Adventurer looked up and saw the adventurer deepest in the Village of the Dead. He was running on a rooftop two hundred feet away, being pursued by a wave of Ghouls. They clambered over the rooftops, leaping like animals, eyes glowing as they bit and tore.
They never caught him. The [Skirmisher] ran faster than they could. He had a sword in one hand, a rippling field of magic around a buckler in the other. He swung the Forceshield, and the edge struck a Ghoul leaping up at him, shattering a bone in its face. Ksmvr turned, pivotinga crossbow fired into anothers face.
The Ghouls reached the end of the roof and the Antinium halted. He turned and they leapt for him, a ravening mass. Elia watched as Ksmvr spread his arms. He somehow felt the need to address the undead lunging at him.
You made one error, although I realize you are not capable of tactical thought: I can fly.Whee
He flipped backwards into the air. The Ghouls poured over the rooftop, landing on the street below. Elia saw the Antinium soar into the airland on another rooftop and begin running again.
Ksmvr to Eldertuin. I have scouted your location and you are six streets away from the south-western attacking force. Designation: Attackers 4. Please take the right-most street from your position. Establishing mapping to other attacking forces.
The voice came clipped, very calm, through the speaking stone. If Elia hadnt known better, she would have thought the Antinium wasnt in danger at all. Eldertuin replied after a beat through their local link.
Understood. Were holding ground. Well move up in five minutes.
Ksmvr! Get back here! Youre all alone! Stop playing tag this instant!
That was Captain Cerias voice. Loud, tooElia winced and took the speaking bead she used out of her ear. She heard the Antinium reply after a moment.
This is not Ksmvr. I am being strategically helpful. Is this not so, Strategist Soew?
This is so. Captain Ceria
Whatever appeal Ksmvr had been about to make was never uttered. Because, at that precise moment, someone broke in on all lines of communication.
This is Attack 1fall back! This is not a joke! I dont care where you are! Fall back! Soew, we have injured! Captain Jelaquas body is gone and their half-Giant nearly got slaughtered! Every positionnow!
Elias heart skipped a beat. She heard a chorus of confused voices. However, she spoke loudly, cutting off the others.
This is Elia Arcsinger. Define the threat.
The adventurers voice was grim.
Draugr.
-
It came out of the sea of zombies without warning. Jelaqua was slowing down as her Rampage ended, the Raskghar body stressed past its limits. She saw somethinghugecrashing through the sea of undead.
This wasnt an issue afflicting Brigandas group. However, some adventurers looked
Drink a stamina potion, then.
Thats not the issue.
The [Shield Maiden] cheerfully informed Keldrass. He looked back at her, then the Drake, uncomprehendingly.
Spit it out! Were wasting time! Whats wrong with you?
ICaptain Keldrass
Briganda walked over and whispered, loud enough for everyone close to hear.
She needs to find a place to crap.
The Drakes scales mottled crimson. Keldrass recoiledlooked at Brigandaand his face twisted up in disgust.
What? Didnt you take a potion to
Not all adventurers can afford em. Or prepare. Mind you, some dont bother. It just splashes as they keep going. You should see their armor after an hour-long fight if they ate too much the day before.
Briganda cheerfully commented. Some of the adventurers looked appalled. Others just looked amused. She grabbed Keldrass as the Drake in question looked ready to dig herself a hole in the street.
He let himself be towed, this time. Briganda spoke with a smile.
Your adventurers need to rest for twenty minutes. Clear a space, or pull back. Let them eat. Youre used to going on stamina potions, but this is a longer battle, not a brawl. Theyll collapse if they dont eat anything after two hours of fighting, potions or not.
He glanced at her. The Oldblood Drake hesitatedthen, to Brigandas relief, ducked his head.
My mistake. Youre right.
She patted him on the shoulder, relieved he was seeing sense. Eating, bathroom breakswho thought of that in the middle of a raid?
Veterans whod soiled themselves after fighting for three hours straight, that was who. Anyone whod ever seen someone pass out because theyd tried to go eight hours non-stop without eating a bite, only on potions.
When Yvlons group found Keldrass and Brigandas forces, they were resting, taking a seat in the street while some stood guard, fighting undead. Yvlon looked at Briganda and Keldrass, furious.
What are you doing?
Resting. Your group could do it too, you know.
Briganda met her eyes, squarely. She knew it was personal, and Yvlon looked like she could still fight another hour, but these were the basics.
Fight. Attack. Block. Dont get ahead. Rest. Regroup.
Yvlon just stalked past them, back towards the fight. She let the others rest and join her; she didnt slow. Briganda shook her head. When her group rose with Keldrass and threw themselves back in, they moved up fast, fresh, ready to get back at it.
Best of allBriganda grinned. The undead were thinning out. Rule #12 of adventuring or something: why take the risks when you can let the enemy fight someone else? At least half the undead clogging the street were heading towards the east. The other army tearing the village to bits.
-
There they are.
Lord Tyrions eyes narrowed as he saw the enemy exit the village at last. Zombies emerged from the mistthen Ghouls, bounding along, skeletonsmost armed with bowsmoving into actual ranks at the back.
A rough formation emerged. The undead moved out of the Village of the Dead, waves of zombies interspersed with Crypt Lords, Draugr, Ghouls moving in packs.
However, none of them broke free from the mass. Tyrion murmured to himself.
Theyre moving with coordination.
They were sticking out of range of all but the trebuchets and Jerichas linked spells. She blew apart one group of the undead, but they just massed up. When they did advanceit was all at once.
The zombies streamed out of the streets, their shambling turning into a run. Skeletons ran behind them, taking aim, loosing arrows from out of range. The Ghouls bounded in groups on the flanks, circling to attack from the sides. The Draugr, Crypt Lords, Bone Horrors, and bigger undead marched behind the ranks of literal meat shields in front of them.
Thousands of them. Probably ten thousand already and more coming out of the Village of Death. However, as far as Lord Tyrion was concernedthey had already lost. If hed had to contend with regeneration, he would have had a harder time. But an emplaced enemy that was unwilling to endure bombardment?
[Archers]. Prepare to volley.
The undead were coming uphill, towards his forces. Tyrion heard shouts as thousands of [Archers] took aim. He held his arm, waiting
Longbowsloose!
The first wave of arrows hit the mass of undead. Tyrion saw the second flight of arrows half a second after the first. Excellent. The [Longbow Captain] had used [Instantaneous Reload].
Recurves. Loose!
The second rank hit the Ghouls trying to circle. Dozens of bounding forms fell, riddled by arrows. Tyrion called out.
Archers, fire at will! Commanders, target those Draugr and Crypt Lords! The front ranks will prepare for combat!
His heavy infantry stepped forwards, raising shields and blades. They waited as Draugr fell, charging, struck too many times with arrows to move. Ghouls were still bounding along, but dedicated [Expert Archers] were picking off the high-level undead.
And zombies? Zombies had no armor. Zombies that ran?
They impaled themselves on the first line of spears and kept coming. Then they ran into the heavily-armored Humans. Zombies clawed and bit and struck steel plate. They were answered with sharp blows, crushing impacts.
-
Even Ryoka could see how easy it was. She wasnt a complete idiot when it came to basic warfare. The zombies were running into a kill zone.
Not only were they fighting uphill; House Veltras had entrenched themselves, even going as far to have dug pits the undead fell into and were hacked to pieces as they tried to climb. The Humans actually fighting the undead in the melee only fought zombies and skeletons; any Ghoul-class or higher was shot dead or blasted to pieces before it reached them.
For now, at least. And if a Human was injured, like one of the [Heavy Infantry] soldiers who went stumbling backwards, an arrow lodged between a gap in their armor, they were replaced by veterans who closed ranks, and a [Healer] who was already applying a potion.
Half-assed?
Ryoka muttered to herself. She saw what Tyrion had meant.
A training exercise. All he was wasting was gold on potions and ammunition. Meanwhilehis army got fighting practice.
The key was in his commanders. Ryoka saw one group of pikes cutting the undead to pieces; crystal had grown on the pikes, sharp as razors. One of the [Archer]-commanders kept downing Draugr with glowing arrows.
It was as the undead were pushing at the Human army, threatening to encircle as they climbed higher on the hill, that Lord Tyrion moved at last.
Sortieing.
His banner fluttered in the wind. The [Lord] raised his lanceand his seven hundred [Riders] streamed down the hill after him. Ryoka saw them flash forwards, far faster than even a horse should be able to move.
They caught the undead by surprise. Tyrion hit a group of Ghouls circling and his force just ran over the bounding undead. Then he turned.
The skeletons had been forming into an entire company of archers at the back of the undead. But whatever tactical genius the Crypt Lords had only extended to grouping them up. They turned as Lord Tyrion bore down on their backs. A few loosed arrows.
The rest exploded. That was what it looked like. Sammial was shouting in awe and surprise as the skeletons went flying, sent to pieces by the lance-charge. Lord Tyrion ran through their entire groupthen spoke.
Strike the rear then fall back!
He suited actions to words. The undead pushing at his forces disappeared again as his charge carried them into their ranks. Tyrion impaled a Draugr with his lance, yanked it free, then lifted it and whirled. His cavalry was disengaging within seconds of their charge.
They trotted away, ignoring more undead pursuing them from the Village of the Dead. When they had formed another wedge, they repeated the movement again and again, smoothly slaughtering undead from flanking charges, refusing to be hemmed in.
-
Beautiful. It was, to Niers Astoragon, a beautiful display of martial prowess. House Veltras [Soldiers] were not adventurers, but they took the undead army to pieces with nothing more than equipment, formation, and training.
It was what a [Strategist] admired. The kind of army they wanted, that had the discipline to pull off maneuvers and feints in battle. Niers didnt think theyd lost a soldier yet!
-
Horrific. Those skeletons! Toren had covered his eyes when they were all run over like that. He chanced another look but
No, it was too cruel. He turned away and saw Azkerash watching, eyes fixed on the projection. How could he look at this slaughter without flinching?
Perhapsbecause it wasnt over yet. Toren glanced back at the scrying orb. He was rooting for his people, obviously. Only, he wasnt sure if they were underdogs or overdogs. He had seen some undead dogs, though.
-
The momentum had shifted back to favor the living. Undead still contested the adventurers at every turn, but more and more, the overwhelming numerical advantage was vanishing.
Now it was high-level undeada challenge, but one adventurers lived for. Meanwhile, tens of thousands were moving east.
Going after Lord Tyrions far larger army. It was he who might not hold, but Strategist Soews reassurances to the Attack groups were simple.
He has declined every offer for support I have made. Continue your advance as planned.
The adventurers were all too happy to do that. They began to move forwards once more.
-
He watched, with patience. Not amusement or anger. Merely a kind of weary indifference. His comment to his master was laced with only a hint of query.
Bodies die. They are coming closer. Is this your plan? All the bodies weve gatheredyou had no need of them? Is that what you are telling me?
He moved closerthen away. It hurt too much to stand close. Still, his hands reached out, grasping, nowworrying.
Are you hurting? Why dont youis her curse growing stronger, thisthis harridanthis woman who laid you low? Is that it? Only six have ever come this far. Soonsoon
No response. So the man turned wrathful and petty.
Fine then! If you dont respond, Ill let them break into the inner parts. Ill do nothing. Theres a small army outside. You dont even care. Fine. Fine
He sat, waiting, heedless of the fighting. They were just bodies. Not a single one was his masters creation. Just stragglers, fools who had never made it inside. They didnt matter. Perhaps if they got furtherthen?
Then.
-
They were just zombies. However. First there were ten thousand coming out of the Village of the Dead.
Then there were twenty thousand, despite the bombardments of the trebuchets now slaughtering hundreds with each strike.
Then there were forty thousand.
We are being pushed back. Jericha, withdraw another hundred paces!
Tyrion Veltras divided the line of undead once more with another charge. Each of his [Riders] might have slaughtered three undead at least in the ride forwards. Tyrion? He sent eight Draugr to their deaths with calculated lance-strikes.
It was like a drop of water being removed from a pool. He had brought countless arrows, and his archers had not stopped firing once this entire battle.
The undead kept coming. How many were there now? A hundred thousand? Almost all zombies too!
Armies have perished here. Tyrion saw broken armor on some. Traces of finery, a [Merchant]s hat
Children. He looked back as his army pulled back onto flat ground. Too close to the trebuchets. His eyes were only on his sons coach, though. No dangeryet.
Magical webs held the undead in place. A second furrow of dirt formed a pit they collapsed into. A mesh net, nearly invisible in the fading noon light trapped the zombies and they were run through mercilessly.
They fell for every trap, every tactic and defense the Humans employed. Yet the issue was no longer strategy or the ground they fought on, but sheer numbers.
-
Ryoka watched as Lord Tyrion galloped through the undead, rotten forms with glowing eyes. Yet she saw the [Lord] and his narrow band of riders weave through the undead again and again.
Like a silver needle plunging through rotten cloth. There was something she could admire about it.
Something to admire. AndRyoka glanced at the trebuchetsthings to hate.
However, she was biased. Because she sat with Hethon and Sammial, fingering the unused Faeblade, Windswordwatching. She was not a warrior.
Besides, the two boys needed someone to watch them besides the guards. Jericha was fighting, sending magic raining down on the undead. Hethon and Sammial thoughthey were nervous.
At first they had cheered their father, so cleverly taking the army to pieces. Luxuriating in the praise a Balerosian [Strategist] gave after the Pallassian one was shut up. However, now?
Hes not going to lose, is he?
Hethon stared at the [Lord] riding at the head of the tiny vanguard of humanity. Ryoka bit her tongue before replying.
Of course not.
Hes not going to! Hes not!
Sammy punched his brothers arm as if saying it was a crime. The two boys looked at their father, though. Ryoka saw their thoughts as clearly as if they were her own.
Children. Watching their immortal, ever-victorious parent show frailty. Flaws. If only by comparison, seeing how Tyrion had to retreat from the undead. Fearing, understanding what might happen if he was hemmed in.
The lesson here was something everyone learned in time. It still hurt Ryokas chest to see. She reached out and gripped the boys shoulders.
Hell be fine. He has artifacts and those are zombies. I could beat them. Probably.
Hethon and Sammial looked at her, taking reassurance from that. Sammy looked back at the battle.
Its not fair. If father had even a fourth as many [Soldiers], hed win. In a fair battle hell always win. Monsters dont fight fair.
He declared, arrogantly. Ryoka looked at him. In the stress of the moment, she let her tongue slip.
Monsters dont fight fair? No kidding. Is fire hot?
Sammial hesitated. Hethon blinkedthen hid a smile. No one spoke to Sammy like that. Ryoka bit her tongue. It was stress. It was
Oh, who was she kidding? It was just her. Ryoka turned back to the battle.
If he did have more timeI should have come here first. I thought there would be more.
More [Soldiers]?
Hethon was uncertain, as if Ryoka was attacking Lord Tyrions commitment towhat, her? Ryoka half-shook her head.
No, eight thousand from House Veltrasits more than I could have asked. I just thought there would bemore.
Both boys peered at her. Then, Sammial Veltras sat up. His head turned away from the scrying orb and the carriage window. He blinked at something through the walls of the coach and turned to Hethon and Ryoka.
Someones coming.
He announced it solemnly, with perfect conviction. Ryoka eyed him.
Who?
I dont know. Someone.
He said it without sight, without knowledge. Ryokas skin tingled as Hethon looked uncertainly at Sammial. Aura. Which meant
Stay here.
She opened the carriage door and stepped outside. The roar of battle was louder, now. The voices of each commander were still steady, the thwap of bows loosing arrow after arrow louder.
Younger boys and girls were running to wagons and to the [Archers], dumping sheaves of arrows out of bags of holding. The fighting [Soldiers] were being relieved; an entire group of weary [Pikemen] took a break on the grass as their leader exhorted them.
The undead filled the ground, coming up the hill. Ryoka heard the trebuchets firing, barely making a dent in the sea of glowing eyes. She tore her eyes away from the village, from the [Lord] fighting, circling, charging.
Then she heard the piercing sound fill the air.
Jericha looked up, and followed Ryokas gaze. The Wind Runner stood next to the carriage and looked to the north. She smiled. In relief. The [Mage] whirledready to meet a threat. However, the piercing whistle was familiar. She frowned.
That flute. That cant be
House Veltras used horns, like many armies. Not all forces used the same signals though. This haunting cry could have been a bird shrieking. It was too elongated though, the note held for too long.
As Jericha listened, more joined it. A chorus of piercing cries. She knew the force that made use of flutes.
Lord Veltras. To the north.
She spoke into the spell and the [Lord] turned, lowering his lance, letting his horse rest and sip at a stamina potion. He gazed ahead; flicked his gaze up towards the hill, and Ryoka Griffin. Then he raised his lance over his head.
He was answered by a wave. The figure on horse-back was no [Warrior], for all he bore a sword. He had no strategic genius, but he was intelligent. For instance, he knew how to delegate. So, as he raised his hand and halted his horse, the Patriarch of the House of El watched his forces move forwards.
Lord Deilan El gazed at the seething mass of undead with mild horror. He had heard stories from his father, but he had never seen so many. Yet he didnt think he was in danger. His [Captain of the Guard] would never let him get close to actual harm.
Lord El, will you give the order?
Speaking of which, she was poised, ready to give the order. Deilan blinked. He adjusted the spectacles he wore, and then nodded.
Of course! Ergo. I hope were not late?
That was addressed to one of the other members of the House of El. Lady Desinee and Lord Marthos El gave him equally blank looks. They all turned back as the [Captain of the Guard] cried.
Crossbows, forwards!
It was a cry completely at odds with conventional sense. An order to charge. None of it made sense.
Jericha turned to Ryoka.
Why are they here? What is the House of El doing here? They dont go to war!
She was, of course, wrong. For two reasons. The House of El was here. It was not just them, either.
War Golems: advance. Find Eldertuin Terland and fight under his command.
An irked voice from the side was one of Terlands [Ladies]. She gestured, and half the Golems marched forwards. A small groupbut the huge Golems were each worth a hundred men themselves.
Three members of the House of El. Each there for different reasons. Each here for the same reason. Because of the same person.
Ryoka Griffin exhaled, heart pounding. They had come! She hadnt been sure! Eldertuin had promised to prevail on his family. She had gone to Tyrion last, but Deilan had been the biggest variable.
Ryoka Griffin. How did you manage to persuade Lord Deilan El to participate in this battle?
Jericha had left the [Mages] to look at Ryoka. The House of El had brought a smaller force. Less than half Tyrions size even with the Terland family joining them. Yet it seemed they had also met
Reinforcements. House Veltras horns began to blow, signaling more of their army had arrived. Ryokas heart leapt.
Tyrion sent for more [Soldiers]?
He could have mobilized half the north if he had been forewarned. Answer me. How did you persuade the House of El to take arms?
Ryoka Griffin looked at the older woman. For answer, she pointed.
The House of El had stopped. They had sent crossbows forwards, along with barely two hundred infantrymostly [Mercenaries], which they liked to employunsupported. Lord Deilan stood back from the fighting with the bulk of the army, which was just there to protect him.
The standard of the House of El flew high where he stood. As did the emblem of the Terlands. Yet another flag flew as the House of El moved into the battle.
A white flag. Incongruous with the art of war. Yet Ryoka knewknew
She watched as it burst into flame, the oil-soaked cloth set alight. Not by a Skill, not by an aura.
But look at that. They havent forgotten so quickly.
He had come, because Ryoka had made a few good points. However, the real reason the leader of the House of El had come was because of her.
For a second, Ryoka thought she could see the [Lady] riding with the banner held in her hands. Thenit vanished. She saw a strange sight.
Eighteen coaches raced down the slopes as Lord Tyrion peeled away, watching. The mass of the undead was slowly turning to the new threat. Howeverwere the House of El sending coaches into the undead a la Magnolia Reinharts style?
No. As they were about to collide, the coaches swerved. The lead one, with the burning flag mounted on it turned, the [Coach Driver] urging the well-trained horses to race past the undead. As he didthe side of the coach opened up.
The entire wall slid apart, the wood panels moving via clever mechanisms inside. Inside the packed coach, a line of men and women holding crossbows stood up.
They began firing. Ryoka saw the first rank of undead fold up. She saw flashes as the bolts exploded in a variety of colors like fireworks. Sammial and Hethon shouted with gleebut Ryoka saw something peculiar.
The [Crossbowmen] and [Crossbow-women] didnt try to reload their weapons. Instead, they just slapped a bolt into the grooveraised the weaponand fired again.
A second volley hit the undead as the first coach raced along the front of their lines. The other coaches had also opened, revealing crossbow-wielding [Mercenaries] who fired, and fired again, just as fast as bows!
How are they doing that?
Ryoka saw Jericha turn back to her, surprised that Ryoka didnt know. She had called the House of El!
Automatic reloading crossbows. The House of El manufactures the enchantment and the weapon.
Indeed, the coaches and crossbows had wiped out thousands of the undead, the magical bolts detonating deep within their ranks, by the time they peeled away. Ryoka saw them circling, like a kind of ranged cavalry, as Lord Tyrion linked up with more riders.
The cheering from the House of Veltrasand the scrying orbwas the loudest yet. While Ryoka had been surprised by the crossbow tactic though, her real eyes were on the two hundred [Mercenaries] on foot now marching towards the undead.
-
Lord Deilan. Aside from honoring the memory of our great-aunt, Maviola, what was the other reason that Courier used to persuade you to commit to thisexpense? We might not even see whatever the adventurers haul, and we do not benefit from Adventurer Guild bounties on the undead. Unless weve registered our entire house as adventurers?
Desinee El looked quizzically at Lord Deilan. The [Lord] half-shook his head. The perpetually impoverished House of El was spending gold with each shot, not to mention the [Mercenaries] payalthough they were always on retainer, so at least they were justifying their costall for seemingly nothing.
She had a persuasive argument. Notwithstanding her connection with Maviolashe was very convincing. This is all to an end, Lady Desinee. We will benefit if all goes well.
By fighting this battle? How?
Lord Marthos knew, but he didnt see. Deilan on the other hand, had. He smiled as his eyes never left the two hundred [Mercenaries], surely the attention of Wistram News Network via the [Scrying] spell.
What was the exact wording shed used when she made her request? Lord Deilans lips moved.
I think she saidah yes. Product demoing.
Two hundred feet distant, the [Mercenaries] touched the curious weapons they carried. A harsh, strange glow filled the air as the Kaalblades sprang to life.
The undead never stopped, unimpressed by theatrics. Unaware of the threat.
The first [Mercenary] saw a Draugr coming his way and blanched with fear. However, he swung the blade, knowing to run was to die
And cut the Draug in two. The artifacts beam of power bisected the undead. The other [Mercenaries] swung, beheading zombies, slashing Ghouls in twoas if their weapons were enchanted artifacts wielded by Gold-ranks!
Kaalblades!
Jericha exclaimed, shocked.
Lightsabers.
Ryoka muttered under her breath. In truththe Kaalblades looked more like oversized carrot peelers, with the metal blade being replaced by the electric-plasma arc that could cut through anything.
No wonder they werent popular to someone who had no idea what they did. Right now though, the entire world saw the first rank of undead vanish, and the [Mercenaries] advance, swinging into their ranks before retreating with the crossbow coaches cutting down the undead.
That was when House Veltras began to advance once again. Lord Tyrion let the House of El tie up the flank; he went in with thousands of reinforcement riders at his back, followed by [Soldiers] on foot, cutting back towards his lines.
-
That was the House of El, showing off their new weapon! Kaalblades! Joseph, did you see that! That was amazing! Didnt Maviola El have one?
Those were lightsvery amazing, Drassi!
Joseph was just as agog. He turned to her as Drassi checked her notes.
Weve just gotten information from the House of Elits a new artifactno, a recreation of an old artifact made with the help of Archmage Valeterisa of Izril. They run on mana crystals so I guess its expensive buthey, theyre for sale! Wow! I want one. What about you, Joseph?
The [Coach] was still staring at the fighting. He turned to Drassi.
Theyre for sale? How much? Ill pay for one now.
The commentary raised a few eyebrows. Not least on Flos Reimarchs head. He turned to Venith Crusland.
Did you see that?
Your Majesty
The man had a resigned look on his face. Flos waved a hand at him.
I just want one! NoMars has to try out new swords. Make it two. However, if we had an entire unitcheck the costs and get a hundred. A hundred and two for me and Mars. Make it a hundred and fourteen to be safe. Actuallythree hundred if its affordable. Thats gold for Gold-rank weapons! Better make it six hundred.
Maresar rolled her eyes as Venith began to argue.
-
Lord Deilan El rubbed his hands together, nervous but elated, watching the [Mercenaries]. If even a single Kaalblade was lostbut this was free advertising, not to mention the prestige of the event.
If we sell sixteen, we have justified this endeavor. And that is not counting goodwill, or gained levels, Lord Marthos.
The other man nodded dubiously. Of course, that was sixteen Kaalblades worth of lost profits, but as far as Deilan was concerned, their entire stockpile was worthless if it wasnt sold. If they opened the way to more sales
Besides, he felt Maviola would have approved of this entire endeavor, cost or not. She used to tell the children stories of killing undead hordes with Gresaria and her brother.
Deilan. Deilanwere already getting inquiries into the weapons. Not just Kaalblades, our crossbows too!
Desinee was reading from a [Message] scroll, scribbling replies frantically. Deilan straightened, some of the tension easing. The [Mercenaries] were in retreat, having done their showy job for now.
Good. Any offers?
Iyes? You could say that? Um, Deilan?
That was unlike Desinee to be so startled. Deilan turned at the note in her voice.
Is something wrong?
Desinee double-checked the underlined number, and then showed Deilan the scroll, where they were talking with the [First Accountant] of the House of El.
We just sold forty six. Payment in advance. Kaalblades.
Lord Marthos sprayed the water he was drinking onto the [Captain of the Guard]. Deilan rubbed at one ear.
Forty six?
Yes. Thatsindividual orders. Were negotiating with eighteen prospective buyers about larger orders! And were contracted for over eighty crossbowsand thats individual orders again, not bulk!
Lord Deilan El looked at Desinee, mystified. Almost miffed. The House of El made excellent, artisan-quality weapons, but sales were sporadic. They had consistent customers like Noelictus, but this kind of boom for their admittedly expensive gear?
The power of worldwide marketing. Attention. His heart began to beat faster. He turned to the [Captain of the Guard], and saw his mercenary-forces pulling back.
CaptainCaptain. Can our forces keep fighting?
Of course, Lord El. But wed have to expend more mana stones and munitions.
The woman was surprised. The House of El was notoriously stingy with what they allocated to fights. More than one battle in history had been lost because they refused to pay for enchanted bolts.
Deilan turned to her.
Ah. Keep them in the battle. Rotate in a fresh groupnohave them engage the higher-level undead. Enchanted munitions, Kaalbladestry to kill one of those huge undead.
The Bone Horror?
Yes, that!
-
Like the events preceding it, the raid on the Village of the Dead was generating record-breaking numbers as a televised event. The only regret Wistram Academy had was there was no seamless point to pioneer an ad in all the action, which they really wanted to try out.
More specifically though, while all the Archmages and factions seemed content to justwatchone angry [Mage] was not.
What is she doing there? Endangering herself like usual, as when I hired her togo to the Bloodfields andcollect samples? Deliver my letters? Reckless girl!
Eldavin stalked back and forth in front of the scrying orb, glowering, freezing the few times the image had revealed the Courier, who wasnt the focus of the event by any means. He looked at the magnified image of Ryoka and spun.
This is a huge event.
He did not phrase it as a question. The other [Mages] in the room, Valeterisa, Teura, and some of the new Terras faction including Telim, all nodded.
Very important. Very engaging. Prestigious in that were covering it. Becoming the go-to news source, not that theres much competition. Yet.
Telim put in. Eldavin nodded, yet the half-Elfs reason for discontent wasnt clear to the others.
It is a huge event! A raid on a death-zone that might succeed, although I have no idea why. Did they find a Tier 8 scroll or something?
He broke off into speculative muttering as the other [Mages] leaned in, some nodding. Eldavins head rose.
So. Why arent we in this?
The others looked at him. Teuras brows crossed.
Were broadcasting this, Grand Magus. Our hired [Reporter] is covering the event, and everyone knows this is Wistrams production. See?
She pointed to a tiny, hovering logo that theyd inserted in a corner of the scrying orb. Eldavin stared at it. His eyes actually bulged.
That? You call that important? My dear, that is nothing. I am saying that this event has every notable nation and countless important individuals watchingso why arent we in the event? We are Wistram Academy! If something happens of note in this world, we should be seen to be part of it, tolerating it at least, or needing to be consulted! That is Wistrams reputation that has been lost!
The rest of the Terras faction traded glances. Valeterisa raised a hand.
Query: how do we effect this, if we agree with your sentiments, Grand Magus? The event is occurring and we are not capable of teleporting there instantaneously, even with the new long-range teleport spells we are formulating.
Eldavin clicked his fingers impatiently, neglecting to mention that he could appear therewith some effort and thirty minutes.
We have to have some [Mage] in the area. Some Mages Guildget me a list. Halfway decent [Mages] only. Only someone above Level 30.
He looked at Teura. She blinked, raised a finger to her temple.
Theresaside from Mages Guilds, only one of which has an actual graduate, the only high-level [Mage] above Level 30 I can find is a Mage Merzun, who is escorting
Eldavin didnt wait to hear the rest. He whirled, his eyes alight.
Thats it! Class?
[High Mage]. But she has an Earther and shes a Revivalist
That doesnt matter! Tell her to stuff the Earther somewhere safe. She is to head straight to the Village of the Dead before its over and make an entrance. [High Mage]yes. Shell assault the undead. Toss a few [Chain Lightning] spells into the fray! Can she do [Blackflame Fireball]? Have her join the adventurers!
Shes a Revivalist, Grand Magus!
Then Ill talk to Archmage Naili. Come on, Magus Valeterisa. She will participate as a representative of Wistram
and if she dies?
The question came from High Magus Telim. The half-Elf stopped at the door. He looked back at the portly [Mage]. Eldavin raised his brows.
If shes careless, it is a possibility. However, she might also level. If she dies, she wasnt worthy of her rank as High Magus. Thats not a [Mage] that Wistram needs. Alsoits not one of ours.
He turned, and was out the door in a moment. The other [Mages] exchanged looks. Valeterisa got up and followed without another word, and soon a luckless Dullahan [High Mage] was receiving the last orders she wanted to hear: participate in a raid in a death-zone, and not to retreat until shed killed at least a thousand undead.
-
Were doing it. Flanks are secure againthe undead are piling into the armies in the east. Were going to do it!
Levil breathed. He looked around as the setting sun turned the sky orange and red. It had taken hours, but they had survived.
With minimal casualties too! It had begun getting bad when the undead were flooding at them. Gold-ranks had died as well as Silver. However, the arrival of House Veltras had prevented the worst.
Now? He stared at the street. Or rathertwo streets.
The Frostmarrow Behemoth had smashed every house flat, thus joining both roads together. While the undead were piled up and some reanimating just because of the ambient death mana, many were on fire, having been covered with oil and lit up to prevent even a chance of them coming back.
The adventurers were on the move once more. No undead teleporting from houses. The streets were far less crowded. The Village of the Dead might have had hundreds of thousands of undead over the years.
Well, they had died crammed up like bugs in a basket, and without the immortality-effect, the adventurers and armies had reaped a full harvest. After rallying, resting, and replenishing their Skills, the adventurers were ready.
Enough waiting around. Lets get to the heart of this place.
Elia Arcsinger stood on a roof and spoke, to cheers from the adventurers in her wave. She pointed, posing with her bowalthough she did not actually join the first wave ready to go in once more. She was an [Archer]; shed be fighting from above.
Ceria and Pisces group had cleared enough streets to join their group to Elias. Ceria looked up at the Named Adventurer as she drank a mana potion. She herself had found a burnt-out wall to sit behindthen promptly decided to raise [Ice Walls] to do her business. Shed eaten, although she couldnt remember what.
She felt a bit shaky with tiredness, but she was ready. She pushed herself up as Pisces rose. He was in better shape than she was, despite having used his rapierno. Maybe because of that. Hed split his exertions between the physical and magical.
Ready?
Cheering adventurers were forming up behind Eldertuin. He had been joined by four huge Golems, like the ones Magnolia Reinhart owned. Steelno, iron? Not as expensive as the Terlands could afford to field, but four of them had smashed through the undead to protect him.
Ready.
Pisces rose to his feet, wiping his mouth as he lowered the canteen of soup.
Across the city, the adventurers were pushing in again. Jelaqua, in a new body, was whirling her flail, having already worn out one body and weapon already.
Halrac had taken a new position with his [Archers] and was conserving magical arrows, watching Yvlon cut her way forwards once more with Zenol and Dorgon.
Ksmvr sat, discussing mobile-tactics with the two Drakes, Dullahan, and Tomoor. They were waiting for someone to call for help.
Briganda marched up with her adventurers, giving Keldrass group time to recharge their flame breath.
Even old Typhenous was fighting with Levil, stabbing a Ghoul that had tried to jump them from behind.
Pisces and Ceria watched as Eldertuin strode forwards. He and the four Golems cut into the undead, bashing them down as adventurers joined them. Elia loosed an arrow to more cheers. It was a magnificent sight. The kind of thing youd see in a picture book.
HoweverCeria glanced sideways. Eldertuin halted, and glanced up, past a roof.
The Frostmarrow Behemoth stomped forwards, squishing undead like rats in front of an elephant. It opened its maw, swallowed a Bone Horror and began chewing it to pieces. Ceria and Pisces waved, and their group advanced in the wake of the construct, killing anything not run flat by the rampage.
Somehow, theirs was the team with the most firepower, which even Keldrass team couldnt equal. Ceria looked up at the glistening ice on the Frostmarrow Behemoth. She had regrown its body, repairing damage in the fight.
I dont understand. Its beenfive hours? Six? We should be bleeding our brains out our noses trying to keep it up for so long.
What a charming image.
Pisces grumbled as he stabbed a half-squashed Draugr in the neck a few times. He shook his head, looking at the Frostmarrow Behemoth. Both had used mana potions and Ceria knew the cost was split between them. However
Its the death magic. We are barely sustaining it. This place
His eyes glittered as he inhaled, and Ceria realized his lack of fatigue was due to more than his fencers training. Pisces looked ahead.
We are closing in on the center. With each step, I feel more power.
The heart of the village lay beyond. A maze of houses it might be, but Ceria could tell the artificial village was running out of space. Just a few more streets and
Artificial village? Why had she thought that? Ceria turned her head. Perhaps it was some thought that came to her when shed been on the Behemoths back. Or
No. Just look at the houses. They were so uniform. So straight and narrow, each street a fighting ground, a killing zone for adventurers or undead.
That was not something natural to Cerias world. To Ryoka, it might be more familiar, mass-manufactured houses, planned layouts like the Unseen Empire.
Here, though? Where every [Carpenter] or [Builder] might alter a design? Families put in little improvements, quirks? At least one or two houses should have been torn down, rebuilt.
In a normal village. More thoughts came to the half-Elf, belatedly. Where were the wells? There were none, and the river was far, far too far for this place to survive without water. What about a central hall, upscale buildings by the richer members of the village, even a [Mayor]?
This place wasfake. The houses looked more like undead themselves, the more Ceria looked at them, burned, shattered, or sealed by the adventurers.
They had grown here, piece by piece, along with the dead lured into this trap. Like a fake skin over whatever had really started this place.
The Putrid One.
The Helm of Fire.
A chill began to run down her skin. A familiarsensation. She had felt this before. This unease.
A little song began playing in her head, although she had never heard it sung. It sounded like her voice. It was her voice.
Skinner, Skinner!
Hell eat your tails and tear off your skin!
Hell pluck out your eyeballs and devour your kin!
Skinner, Skinner!
Run while you can!
The Frostmarrow Behemoth had reached a strange place in the Village of Death. Acircular street, unlike all of the straight lines. Houses, joined together to form a wall. Yet as it tore down the streetit came around the other end. It was a perfect circle in the heart of the Village of Death.
Strange.
Pisces looked worried as the Frostmarrow Behemoth halted. Down the street came a jet of fire; Keldrass team appeared, looking annoyed theyd been beaten. Eldertuin was just a minute behind Cerias group.
What is this? Is there nothing in the center?
The Drake demanded, clear worry in his voice. Was this all just a waste of time? Pisces shook his head, although uncertainty lingered.
No. I was toldno. Whatever it isconsidering the geography, it must be hidden behind thiscircle. The center.
The Drake nodded, eying the aberration of architecture. He glanced at the Behemoth and couldnt hide the disgust on his face, but he looked at Pisces.
Your thing should do the honors. Well blast whatever comes out. Named Adventurer?
He looked more respectfully at Eldertuin. The older man leaned on his tower shield, looking tired, but resolute.
And here I said I wouldnt be at the front. Old habits die hard. No adventurer has ever come this far. We never made it past the first two streets. Wed never
He looked at Pisces and Ceria, expression troubled. Then he smiled ruefully.
For all the adventurers before and sincelets crack this damn place open.
Pisces and Ceria nodded, but the half-Elf couldnt put the song out of her head. It sang on. A warning from her subconscious as clear as day.
Skinner, Skinner, never open his door.
Or soon your bones will lie on this floor.
She shuddered.
Pisces. I
The Frostmarrow Behemoth reared back, onto two legs. It brought its front paws down and struck the houses in front of it with all its weight. Thousands of pounds of force hit the rotting wood
Thunder. The adventurers staggered with the impact. Yet when they looked up, the Frostmarrow Behemoth was resting its weight on the cracked faade of the old houses.
They hadnt broken. Ceria saw Eldertuin frown. Adventurers reaching the heart, following the sight of the huge construct of ice and bone, saw the Frostmarrow Behemoth strike again. The woodcrackedbut that was all.
Pisces.
The [Necromancer] turned. He felt the death magic in the air humming around him. He felt alive, afraid, hopeful. His thoughts raced about his head as he waited, impatient, for his creation to break open the secrets of this place.
I shall find the secrets of true Necromancy here. I will bring Erin back. I was promised. I will recover the Helm of Fire. I will
He saw the [Cryomancer], Ceria, looking at him. His old friend was looking at her hand. The hand of bone, skeletal fingers and bone ending where flesh began. She spoke, her voice quivering.
Pisces. My [Dangersense] went off.
The young man looked at her.
Obviously whatever is in the center is
He trailed off as the meaning of her words took on a different shape. He looked at her for clarification.
Your [Dangersense] went off? Had it not been going off already? With the Draugr and
The half-Elf shook her head. She had come all this way here, resolute. Borne by urgency, a desire to bring her friend back.
Hope and desperation and courage.
Nowsomething else seeped in. Just for a second. Ceria remembered.
She didnt run. She looked at Pisces. Slowly, both of them looked at the heart of the village.
The Frostmarrow Behemoth had reared back a second time, to break through. It collapsed forwards, but the mighty impact never struck the houses standing in a ring.
The frost-and-ivory paws hit the street, with such force they shook the ground. Yet they did not crack the smooth bricks. The huge construct raised its head. It was level with a building, a glass window, dark and empty.
A burning mage-light hung from an iron street-lamp, blown glass letting the inner light shine through. The light burned as the suns light faded from the sky.
The houses were gone. Where had stood a small ring of buildings in the center of the labyrinthine village was something else.
Adventurers halted on the dirt and cobblestone street. Ruined buildings, a pathetic village in squalor lay around them. The last of the undead hemmed in street by street, or fighting the army of Izrils noble families to the east.
Ceria looked at the magical lamp, fit for a mansion, hanging so casually in the street, providing illumination. She looked at the smooth bricks.
Bricks, a pale ocre color, seamlessly joined together. Laid by an expert, with mortar, cement holding them together. A sidewalk on each side. And rising taller than the Frostmarrow Behemoth
Buildings. Some had glass windows. Others were simply tall with classic shutters. They were not alike. This was true architecture, some with more wealth or craft poured into solid stone or metal; others made of wood.
The adventurers looked ahead. The street was one of many. It lay beyond the center, as the village changed. Revealing what it had hidden, protected by immortal undead for so long.
Is that?
Brigandas voice quavered nervously as she looked past the others. Keldrass spoke, his claws suddenly sweaty.
A city.
A city indeed. It lay beyond, as if it had always been there. The village was just a shell, Briganda realized. A shell which, when you pierced it
Ancient buildings stood, empty. Magical street lamps hung there, only a few still working. It was not a full city, like Invrisil. It was as ifsomeone had simply scooped up part of Invrisil or wherever this had been and put it here.
The adventurers stood uncertainly. Suddenly, the end of their fighting had become a segue into a larger, unknown space. Eldertuin was frowning, but he held up his hand, stopping other adventurers from moving forwards.
I think we should link upno one advance into
Whatever the Named Adventurer might have said was too late. It had been too late the moment the Frostmarrow Behemoth had triggered the change.
Something moved in the city within. The adventurers tensed. Someone raised a bow.
Dont
Ceria breathed, turning.
Too late. Pisces had grabbed the arm of the [Archer], but someone else had raised their wand.
A jet of fire shot across the street. Levils burning orb of fire shot forwards, slower than an arrow, illuminating the silent homes and buildings on each side of the street. The orb of fire hit what had moved there.
It burst into flames across metal and rotten flesh. The fire burned bright for a moment, trying to incinerate what lay beneath, catch, grow
But it couldnt. The Draugr stood there, eyes glowing. Unmoved by the spell.
For a second, Ceria felt nothing but relief. Draugr. Ohjust a Draugr. That was all.
Then she heard Pisces draw in breath sharply. Ceria looked again, and her heart sank.
The superior version of a zombie stood, arms clasped before it. Unmoved, despite the attack. It had shifted, but only to look up. Levils flame had not burned it.
Because the Draug was wearing armor. Steel or some other fine metal; head to toe. Not torn, not broken by rust or battle like the other undead. Fine, intact metal. Even a helmet on its head, under which two glowing eyes looked out.
That was not the scary thing. What made Cerias heart skip a beat was what the Draugr was holding. Its hands were clasped around a two-handed axe, planted on the ground.
Armor and a weapon? What kind of
Keldrass looked at the undead, as well-armed as he. He stared at Pisces. The [Necromancer] was silent. Slowlyhe raised two fingers. He tried oncethen managed to snap his fingers on the second try.
A ball of light appeared in his hands. Slowlyseeing or sensing something that the others could not, Pisces flicked his hand. The ball of light flew across the street.
-
He could not stop smiling. He felt his body trembling. His skin crawling. His teeth were bared, and his heart pounded.
For themall his sympathies. Yet all Niers Astoragon could do was remember. Remember as he had stood in similar places, and beheld similar sights.
The audience of the world watched as the ball of light flickered down the true streets of the Village of Death. It halted, glowing, and someone sighed in the common room below.
Selys.
Tears ran down her eyes as the Drake looked. Rags stirred. Numbtongue gripped his sword more tightly and Mrsha held the clawed hands tightly. As if that could make it go away.
-
Ryoka Griffin felt the same sense of terrible nostalgia as Ceria. But not for the same memory. The same feeling but a different place. Another time.
Something reaches up out of the ground, a hand, grey-green flesh, rotten sinew. But pink in places, too, oozing red. And bone. An arm, but not one any Human would have.
It reaches towards the sky, each finger as tall as I am, and the colossus rises. A head breaks the snow, and two eyes filled with huge, squirming maggots gapes at us. Im screaming in my head, but the cold air is filled only with silence.
This was not the same as the Zombie Giant. Yet every part of Ryoka, held by the two now-silent boys, felt it.
The ball of [Light] illuminated the ranks of Draugr. Eighteen across, four ranks down.
Human. Drake. Half-Elves? Standing silent, each one wearing the same armor, clasping weapons. Garbed for battle.
They stood in the street, looking ahead. Waiting. The adventurers had gone still. Ryoka heard someone counting in the feed from the scrying orb.
No one spoke. Not Drassi or Joseph, or the adventurers. No one could. No one knew what came next save for one.
-
Azkerash closed his eyes. They had made it to the inner city. He reached up, and his fingers found curved lips. A smile?
Nowhe listened, but his heart did not beatnow, it began. His eyes fixed on the half-Elf and young [Necromancer] standing together.
Show me.
-
A voice cried out. In bitter ecstasy, in triumph. In grief?
They have come. Will you do something now, master?
He danced, in the heart of the city. Waiting.
The Putrid One never moved. So his servant grew uncertain.
Afraid.
-
Who broke the silence at last? Ceria couldnt tell at first. The voice had no spatial qualities at first. It was justthere. Hovering, ephemeral. Yet growing more solid.
Intruders? Intruders. They have breached the perimeter. They have defiled this ground.
The Draugr stirred. The voicewas not an adventurers voice. Nor one from the scrying orb. It came from within. It had a quality that Ceria realized, with a shudder, was familiar.
She had once heard it fromthe scrying orb. When listening to Fetohep of Khelt.
It was not a voice produced by lips or a tongue, or lungs.
It was an undeads voice. It spoke, again.
They come for your Master. Rise, servants. To arms, guardians. We are bound to defend this place.So: arise. Let us spill bitter blood once more, as our service dictates.
Such a curious call to arms. The voice was not furious, not angry. It sounded resigned. Even regretful. Ceria heard nothing after that.
Thenthe Draugr moved. Slowly, as one, they shifted. Their clasped weapons rose. They began to march forwards.
To arms.
Eldertuin breathed. His mace rose, and the Golems, fearless, lifted their weapons. His voice stirred the adventurers. Ceria saw Pisces lift his rapier. Some of the paralysis freed itself from her veins.
Yet she was waiting. Sure that this wasnt it. The vision, the warning in her mind had not feared this.
Ah. As the city stirred, she felt bitterly reassured. She saw more lights flickering across the dark sky. More shapes moving. Ceria looked upand laughed sadly, despite herself.
Good, good. She hadnt been wrong.
A Lich, a skeletal [Mage], floated in the air over a rooftop. It raised a staff as tattered robes fluttered about it. It was not by itself. Ceria saw another rising, chains around the bones of its legs.
She stared at itthen saw a building move. She heard an oath.
No. Thats not fair. Were supposed to have the only damn one
Briganda stared at the giant Bone Behemoth which slid out of the shadow of a building. Gleaming bone face armored with a metal mask.
More giant shapes began to move above the buildings. Shapes fluttered through the air.
-
Lord Tyrion Veltras slowed, looking towards the city, at the mirror. Thenhe saw the first winged undead burst out in the distant village. He spoke, his voice terse.
Undead Wyvern. Fall back. Lord Deilan, join your forces to minenow!
He whirled, racing back towards the carriage behind his lines. Ryoka Griffin stood just outside of it, looking towards the Village of the Dead.
No. Its not fair. Its never fair.
The wind felt black, blowing up from there. Like poison. It told her of things flying and crawling within.
-
A hundred, a thousand voices spoke to her. Yvlon Byres saw the first Wailing Pit creeping forwards, the damned collection of undead pleading, speaking to the living.
The adventurers shuddered. She saw the giant undead, heard the sound of despair from behind her.
The [Silversteel Armsmistress] gazed towards the city.
The center of the center, then.
Prince Zenol and Dorgon looked at her.
What?
Yvlon didnt reply. She drew her sword from its resting place in the ground. She began to walk forwards, like she had at the start of this all.
Forward. Set up fortifications. Ill stall them. Were going in. Horns of Hammerad? Forwards.
The Wailing Pit was blocked by a line of undead. Skeleton Knights, wearing armor over bone, and, leading them, a richly-dressed commander of some kind, moving with impatient animation. It raised its sword and saluted Yvlon.
She stopped, blinking and her sword rose. She copied the gesture, and saw a plumed helmet nod once. Then, Yvlon was running again. She swung her sword and met enchanted steel in kind as the last forces of the Putrid One awoke in their dead city.
Authors Note: This has beenthe worst writing vacation of 2021. Which I grant you, is not a hard bar to pass, but its been the roughest of the four so far.
The vaccineis not good for relaxation. Worse yet, in only a few updates, Im getting the second one, which Im told is rougher.
Well, Ill let you know what happens. For now, this chapter is one I have mixed feelings about. I was down because I felt like I had to geteverythingdone in one go. Which includes the city-battle, which we have just gotten to.
However, poor sleep made me feel my writing wasnt optimal in writing this chapter. Poor sleepas opposed to exhaustion, which is different. But were not here to talk about writing. If I had time, perhaps I would have revised this to be more action-packed, get to the point faster?
I dont know. One more chapter should do it unless Im all wrong, but I hope this was entertaining enough, even if it isnt pure action. Not all chapters can win everything. I hope you enjoyed this, and the next chapter is coming outvery soon. Thanks for reading!
Todays art is Healing Slime and Toren by Auspicious Octopi, commisioned by /auspiciousoctopi
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