Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 39 - Command and Conquer - Part Two

 

The Colonel had called off the morning assault on the central fortress. I hadn’t asked him to do so, but his original plan had required my attendance in order to guarantee both offensive and defensive synergies that would reduce friendly casualties. I had spent almost all of my mana rescuing the reinforcements and the relief force sent to escort them to the tower. The rest I had spent capturing the Drake’s and summoning Wraithe.

 

Without a reserve of mana, I would not be able to use any of my active Abilities and would be comparatively vulnerable. Summoning Wraithe earlier this morning, tapping out my mana again, had basically forced the Colonel’s hand.

 

Not that he appeared to mind. The Drake’s Racial Abilities were incompatible with Humans, with a singular exception. Primal Rage. The Ability increased Strength proportionate to the amount of HP they were missing. It was the reason the Drakes had been kept in a perpetual state of agony.

 

The Goblins and I were in a similar position to the Humans, gaining Primal Rage but no other Synergies. However, the Serpent-Kin’ qualified for a second Synergy. Hardened Scales provided both a chance to deflect projectiles and reduce projectile damage taken.

 

With Nila’s help keeping an eye on the Drakes, it gave me the opportunity to settle down for another long rest to restore my mana. However, before settling down, I passed along instructions to the Colonel to in turn pass along orders to provide more substantial food reserves for the Drakes. Specifically, Swamp Lurkers or Spiked Lizards. Their size would make feeding far less tedious, and their tier of evolution would make Healing far more effective.

 

It was past midday when I woke up. Descending the hill, I could see that the Thralls had attempted another push in an attempt to breach the outermost earthworks. Unfortunately for the Thralls, every passing hour, and each new offensive, provided the engineers with more time and materials to further fortify the army’s position.

 

Most of the engineers’ materials were acquired indirectly, breaking down empty crates acquired through the ongoing Quest and point redemption system. This was in spite of the fact that raw building materials were also available on the point redemption list. The Colonel or one of his Captains must have had enough of their thrift because a large wooden fortification was being built at the base of the hill and a pair of large wooden towers were being built near the outermost trenches.

 

There wasn’t really anything the Thralls could do to stop them either. Not attacking would slow construction by denying redemption points, but the soldiers could acquire those through killing the wild undead too. With so many wild undead drawn to the general area in their desire to feast on the living or otherwise snuff them out, there would never not be a ready supply close to hand.

 

Of course, this was only possible due to the efforts of logistics and a robust labour force making those materials available.

 

Checking in on the Drakes, I found Nila in the process of sweeping the smaller Drake’s back with a thatch broom. Just judging by the amount of debris I could see being dislodged from Cooper’s scales, it was obviously a worthwhile use of her time.

 

Approaching the Patriarch earned a rumbling growl and angry glare, which I summarily ignored, earning a probing challenge, which I ruthlessly crushed. Pretending as if nothing had happened, I inspected each of the Drake’s wounds for signs of fresh infection. Although dissatisfied with the slow rate of recovery, I was pleased to find that the existing infections were on the way out.

 

Making use of the supplies already located in the nearby pit where Nila had made her camp, I spent the better part of an hour brewing and mixing a salve that would continue to assist in fighting off the infections and provide a measure of pain relief. It annoyed me somewhat that the Colonel hadn’t brought any Surgeons.

 

While the most common and prevalent injuries thus far could be healed through Synergy with my Iron Gut Ability, which was also provided through the Totem, a team of Surgeons would be incredibly useful for situations like the one I now found myself in.

 

Blight, the pair of Drake’s namesake, was a healing inhibitor. It appeared to make them carriers of a supernatural pathogen that interfered with the Healing of both themselves and those they injured. It explained why my side was still not fully healed in spite of gorging myself and engaging in protracted sessions of rest.

 

Being so incredibly large, the Drakes would almost certainly draw the brunt of the heavy-hitting attacks the enemy could send their way, and Blight made that a real problem. It made them even more vulnerable to attrition and poor luck. Without a dedicated team of Surgeons to treat their wounds, the Drakes recuperation periods would be that much longer and resource-intensive.

 

In just about any other environment, the expenditure of resources would be considered minimal. However, consuming rotting corpses when their ability to recover from disease and infection was already compromised, was asking for trouble.

 

Applying the fresh salve earned a reluctant tolerance of my presence from the Patriarch as the reduction in pain allowed him to relax.

 

Cooper was far more neutral from the beginning, seemingly content to watch me as I worked.

 

With both Drakes freshly tended to, I began using a long length of rope to take measurements of the patriarch for a very basic saddle. The task was made more difficult because any anchoring ropes would need to avoid the raw exposed sections of the Drake’s hide that were left by the Thrall’s sadist saddle.

 

After close to an hour of considering different options, I settled on a cargo net design to minimise the abrasive force that would be applied to any given area. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. The saddle itself was far tricker. Accommodating a regular human was more difficult than designing it to suit myself. The Drakes were simply too large.

 

Repurposing the recumbent throne used by the Thralls seemed to be the only viable option. However, making sure the throne saddle wouldn’t slip was going to require additional planning. The Thralls had made liberal use of meat hooks and barbed spikes anchored into the Drakes’ flesh to hold their saddle secure. I was not going to do that.

 

Putting the Goblins and Serpent-Kin to work making the necessary netting, I began breaking down the Drakes original saddles for materials and parts.

 

While agitated by the arrival of the saddles, both Drakes calmed down as the saddles were slowly dismantled.

 

Designing the new saddles, I leaned towards a platform design that would have the rider’s seating area connected to the front of it. Smaller than the Thralls saddle, the platform would still allow a certain degree of customisation.

 

Considered far more of a structure than a traditional saddle at this point, I decided to bring in the engineers to have them make improvements on the general concept. With plenty of materials to work with, the engineers set to work and promptly began drafting soldiers to provide the bulk of the labour under their direction.

 

The final design turned into something similar to a wagon bed and drivers seat that would be braced on the Drakes back. The saddle designed for Cooper would allow enough space for up to three passengers of roughly Human size. The Patriarch’s saddle would be able to accommodate almost three times as many due to the increased surface area. However, unless the Drakes were committed to remaining still, allies with ranged weapons would not have secure enough footing to reliably engage.

 

Still, there was a certain utility all the same. The Drakes could carry supplies, deliver or retrieve soldiers from the thick of battle, and prominently display my banner. Spellcasters such as the Shamans or Summoners could hunker down safe from harm while using their Abilities in relative safety...

 

At the very least, the wooden saddle would provide obstruction and shield some of the Drakes most heinous wounds.

 

While the engineers worked, I finalised my decision for the Patriarch’s name and then assessed his stats in more detail.

 

I stood next to the patriarch’s head, looking it straight in the eye. He was intelligent enough to understand speech, and perhaps more besides. “In the Bleakfang, children were named for the ideal desired by their parents...”

 

The Patriarch’s glare changed to confusion.

 

“Ushu...” I felt a pang of regret, “Ushu, was named for determination and resilience, quite prophetic given the events that brought us together...and later separated us...” I carefully regarded the Drake and could see that it was thinking over what I was saying, “You need a new name, because I am not using the one the Thralls and Vampyrs gave you-”

 

The Patriarch bared its teeth and growled in what seemed like his agreement.

 

“-So, I thought Ushu would be rather fitting,” I explained, “I think it is rather obvious that you are resilient, and with how persistently you keep challenging me, you're certainly determined.”

 

The Patriarch huffed through his nostrils and rolled his eyes dismissively.

 

“Ushu it is,” I confirmed, taking the Drake’s indifference as a sign of approval.

 

[Ushu - Blighted Drake Patriarch Newt: 3 ] [HP: 41/56 ] [MP: 15/16 (+16) ]

[Class: ???] [Exp: 0/0 ]
[Party: Tim’s Party]

 

[Strength: 25* (30*) {+5} ]

[Agility: 10 ]

[Toughness: 28* ]

[Intelligence: 7 ]

[Willpower: 12* ]

[Presence: 8* ]

 

[(Racial Abilities.)]

[(Racial Ability: Blight {Rank 5}): Decelerates {Healing}. Decelerates {Healing} of enemies exposed to attacks carrying {Blight}.]

 

[(Racial Ability: Rigid Scales {Rank 5}): Increased Chance to {Deflect} {Projectiles}. {Toughness} reduces damage taken from {Projectiles}.]

 

[(Racial Ability: Primal Rage {Rank 3}): Increases [Strength} proportionate to missing {HP}. {Willpower} increases the damage threshold before involuntarily gaining the {Berserk} Condition. {Willpower} decreases the mandatory minimum duration of the {Berserk} Condition.]

 

[(Racial Ability: Pack Leader {Rank 3}): Inspire {Allies} of the same {Species} while within line of sight, Increasing {Coordination}. {Presence} increases the duration of the effect.]

 

[(Racial Ability: Savage Nobility): A paragon of primal might and authority. {Strength} increases the effect of {Racial Abilities} and {Class Abilities} modified by {Presence} when targeting {Allies}, subordinates, and members of the same {Species}.]

 

Ushu’s stats were more or less what I had expected after having seen Cooper’s. He had a higher Intelligence and Willpower as well as Toughness and Strength, but not so much that it was strange considering their difference in Evolution.

 

It was Ushu’s missing HP that gave me the most concern. With no clear idea of what the Berserk threshold was, or what exactly it would do, it was for the best to accelerate his recovery as much as possible.

 

True to my word, Nila’s riding lessons started in the early evening. Taking one of the engineers as a passenger, she took Ushu on a slow walk around the periphery of the tower’s trench network. Intended as both an opportunity to familiarise herself with riding the Drakes and afford the engineers with potential insights into changes for the saddle design, Nila continued until the late evening.

 

In part, this had been because of a minor oversight, providing a means of removing the saddle. So, while Nila walked Ushu in a slow circle, a team of soldiers busily dug and reinforced a deep narrow trench. The trench had a ballast crane that would allow the weight of the saddle to be taken by the crane, so once the toggles were removed, Ushu would be able to walk free of the saddle. The Saddle could then be moved to the side in readiness for its next deployment.

 

It was a rather elegant solution given the time constraints involved, and I was glad to see it work with minimal fuss. However, it now meant that Nila’s heavy cavalry would need an official support team in order to function. Vets, labourers, saddlemakers, just to name a few, it was a team she would not have access to until the central fortress was under our control.

 

With this in mind, I informed the Colonel of my intention to test the enemy fortress in the morning, and if possible, claim it. The Colonel had provided only what felt like a token resistance to my demands before submitting and then presenting a battle plan for taking the fortress.

 

The former Foothold had been expanded to two or three times its original size, making it a small town rather than a village. Assuming the majority of buildings were used as storage and barracks, the Colonel estimated the enemy's numbers to be roughly three to five thousand strong.

 

The probe would be one hundred and fifty soldiers at most initially. If a foothold could be secured inside of the fortress, more soldiers would be committed to taking the central fortress, otherwise the Captain in charge would be required to retreat.

 

Under normal circumstances, the sheer difference in numbers would have made such a plan completely insane. Under ‘normal’ circumstances. However, the absence of Synergies amongst the enemy left them at a similar rate of stat progression to the Humans. Furthermore, the Asrusian soldiers would be benefiting from a host of Synergies that collectively afforded profound combat advantages, and lastly, we had an insurgent on the inside.

 

All the same, the fighting would be fierce even after reinforcements arrived from the tower. This was why reinforcements would begin arriving en masse from Mournebrent city as well. Assuming a foothold in the fortress could be secured, guaranteeing a means of entry that wouldn’t require expanding copious amounts of mana.

 

Logically, this would mean capturing one of the gates, but they would be almost guaranteed to be under the careful watch of ballistae and ranks of crossbowmen.

 

Breaching a section of the wall would reduce the number of prepared defences they would need to face initially, but if they couldn’t hold it, it would quickly turn into a killing field.

 

It was also assumed that a powerful Vampyr would be commander of the fortress, if not assigned as a key defender. There was every chance that there would be others as well.

 

I tried to sleep but couldn’t. I spent most of the night staring at the sky and vacantly wondering why the Labyrinths, or whoever made them, went through the trouble to fill the sky with stars. It seemed so...unnecessary. All the death, all the killing and suffering...But hey, there are pretty stars to look at,,,

 

I spent the final couple of hours feeding and treating the Drakes in order to pass the time. As I had suspected, the Swamp Lurkers and Spiked Lizards made feeding the Drakes much easier. They basically fed themselves once they learned the knack for manoeuvring the bodies without cutting them into pieces prematurely.

 

When Ushu was fitted into his modified saddle, he seemed to understand that we were not just going for a walk around the perimeter of the base.

 

The Serpent-Kin’ and Goblins made themselves at home in the semi-enclosed platform of the saddle. They no doubt intended to disperse the moment we entered the grounds of the fortress but having so many combatants available to swarm a section of the defences wasn’t a bad idea.

 

Despite her desire to protest, Nila was left behind to continue caring for Cooper. Officially transferring ownership over Cooper was as much a safety precaution as it was to prepare her for gaining a new mounted Class.

 

With the intense resistance presented when I attempted to claim the tower, I could only assume that the central fortress would be just as bad, if not worse. Cooper’s leg was still healing and he seemed to have bonded with Nila enough that I doubted he would attempt breaking free, if only in order to take advantage of free food while recuperating.

 

Ushu was quite the opposite. I knew he would test me if I left him behind, and I couldn’t risk it. At least bringing him to fight the Thralls would redirect his attention and aggression away from me and towards them. So long as I didn’t attempt to bar him from his revenge, Ushu should be too distracted to take advantage of my overtaxed Willpower. Or so I assumed.

 

The soldiers were divided into two groups and would make the approach some distance to either side of Ushu, predicting that he and I would attract the majority of the Thralls' attention. They were probably right, which was why I was carrying a shield made from crude thick planks and banded with recycled iron and steel.

 

Just as we were preparing to leave, the abbot and his militant priests silently fell into line a short distance behind Ushu. Approached twice by the Captain in charge, they refused to return to the tower and were reluctantly accepted.

 

The journey over the bog was largely uneventful, the more intelligent undead kept their distance and the mindless were executed with minimal effort. For his part, Ushu ignored them all, crushing them underfoot or leaving them in his wake. The tortured Drake had caught the scent of his intended prey and nothing else mattered.

 

*Brooooooooot!*

 

Still some distance from the fortress, a horn called out in warning. Most likely, Ushu had been spotted, his huge body disturbing the thickening fog in a way that was easy to spot from an elevated vantage point.

 

The fog was beginning to clear as we drew closer to the fortress, providing a relatively unobstructed view of the walls and one of the gates. Almost eye level from my position on Ushu’s back, the wall had to be close to twenty-five feet tall. The gate was much shorter, only about half the same height and made of wood rather than stone.

 

“We are taking the gate!” I called out and redirected Ushu to head in the right direction.

 

Even from this distance, I could make out the raised towers along the wall that would hold massed crossbowmen or ballistae. They were far more concentrated by the gate than anywhere else I could currently see, which made sense. They were no doubt intended to whittle down the forces of anyone attempting to break their way in, buying time for more defenders to reinforce the gate from the other side and draw out the fighting into an even bloodier melee while the crossbowmen continued exacting their heavy toll.

 

I was close enough to the fortress now that I could feel Marco’s Slave Collar. Directing my attention to the gate, I impressed upon him the order to sabotage the defences as best he could manage to allow our entry within.

 

Continuing towards the gate, a number of smaller horns had begun sounding throughout the grounds of the fortress. I had no real way of knowing what they were, so I largely ignored them. However, as we began our final approach to the gate, I felt the presence of an enemy slave quite suddenly enter my sphere of influence. Then another, and another, ten, twenty, thirty, a hundred, I couldn’t keep track of them all...

 

Able to feel out their general direction with my mind, I quickly found myself scanning the length of the fortress wall ahead of me. I couldn’t believe it, it made no sense. If my Ability was correct, then close to a quarter of the nearby fortress wall was defended by Slaves.

 

“Majesty?” The Captain enquired somewhat restlessly, “Are we to proceed?”

 

I nodded, “Wait for my signal, and do not attack the defending forces without checking their allegiance first...” Gathering my mana, I began to latch onto one Slave after another, challenging their Master for control, amplifying the pain in my head with each additional contest.

 

[You have Enslaved {Thrall}], [You have Enslaved {Thrall}], [You have Enslaved {Thrall}], [You have Enslaved {Thrall}], [You have Enslaved {Thrall}], [You have Enslaved {Thrall}], [You have Enslaved {Thrall}], [You have Enslaved {Thrall}].....

 

It quickly became obvious that the Slaves I was stealing were not controlled by a powerful Slave Master, just weak Taskmasters. Realising this, I pushed harder, deliberately overwhelming the Taskmasters and either killing them in the process or leaving them vulnerable to the Slaves formerly under their control.

 

“NOW!” I roared, trying to drown out the pain in my head, “TAKE THE GATE!”

 

“SHIELDS UP!” The Captain commanded, “CHARGE!”

 

Ushu began charging towards the gate almost immediately, opening his mouth and bellowing in rage.

 

I very nearly lost myself in the tide of contested Enslavement, and I probably would have if it weren’t for Pyrrhic Will melting the brains of my enemies in return.

 

As Ushu entered the final stretch, the gate doors swung open and revealed an open path.

 

The sounds of battle were already well underway and I could feel my new slaves beginning to push outward in an attempt to overrun other sections of the wall. Feeling vulnerable after expending so much mana, I ordered them all to retreat, to dig in and take a defensive position so the gate would be held against the inevitable counterattack.

 

I had stolen control over a couple of hundred slaves, but the Fortress was defended by thousands of Thralls and their Vampyr Masters. Synergies were going to help, but we needed reinforcements.

 

“No attacking allies,” I reminded Ushu before jumping down off his back. After giving Shady, the Goblins and Serpent-Kin’ an opportunity to disembark, I let Ushu loose under the condition that he would return if reduced to half his HP.

 

With arrows raining down from the inner wall and castle within, I staggered to the relative shelter provided by one of the nearby buildings.

 

So many kill notifications were streaming across my vision that I had no choice but to disable them just so I could see.

 

“PHALANX ATTEMPTING TO RETAKE THE GATE!” A deep throaty voice cried in warning, “EAST SIDE!”

 

There was a momentary lull in the battle as crossbowmen redirected their attention to the east. A few moments later, the ballistae joined in as well.

 

Able to see the forty strong phalanx of spears and shields headed in my general direction, I watched with morbid fascination as hails of bolts broke their shields and turned them into pincushions. The ballistae only intensified the carnage, boring through shields and impaling the men that held them.

 

Attacks from the inner defences were slowly taking their toll, driving the Slaves into more defensive but less effective firing positions of their own. It was very likely only due to Synergies that the crossbowmen had been able to attack so brazenly in the first place.

 

Enemy Thralls were taking to the walls and forming shield walls to drive the crossbowmen back further. If it weren’t for Ushu running amok elsewhere, the crossbowmen would almost certainly be in an even worse state than they were now.

 

“Majesty!” The Captain ran to my side with his shield raised to ward off stray bolts, “What is happening? The enemy appears to be at war with itself!”

 

“That’s exactly what’s going on,” I replied with a grunt, kneading my temple as I fumbled for my pouch of willow bark.

 

The captain seemed momentarily taken aback for a few moments before slowly nodding in understanding, “I see,” he replied decisively, “I will inform the Colonel and begin deploying our men to best effect!”

 

I nodded and waved him off while stuffing strips of bark into my mouth.

 

The Captain briskly walked out into the street, still making sure to keep his shield raised as he cupped his other hand around his mouth, “RANGERS! DEPLOY THE TRAPS! INFANTRY! I WANT BLOCKADE AND I WANT IT YESTERDAY! ARCHERS! GET INTO COVER AND MAKE THOSE SONS OF BITCHES REGRET PEEKING OUT FROM THEIR WALLS!”

 

Asrusian soldiers began to scatter, running this way and that. Long rough planks of timber began to appear as reserved points were exchanged for resources, and the infantry wasted no time in dragging out other materials from the nearby buildings to help subsidise their makeshift walls.

 

With no immediate sign of the abbot or his priests, it was something of a surprise when a dozen Angels all bearing a striking resemblance to Ophelia flew up and over the outer wall and plunged into melee combat against the Thralls attempting to clear the wall of the Slaves. Enemies cut down by the Fallen Angels’ blades had an amber light erupt from every orifice of their bodies.

 

I was able to feel the transference of mana and was somewhat surprised by how brutally the Fallen Angels conducted their harvesting of raw mana. Still somewhat influenced by the pop culture and religiously historical portrayals of Earth, I kept expecting the Angels to be polar opposites of the Daemons. Except the more time I spent around them, the more similar they were revealed to be.

 

The Pact Binders were wasting no efforts in ‘power levelling’, Ophelia and by proxy, Orphiel as head of the pantheon, a role similar to Grick’s. Rather than risking their summons against stronger enemies, the Pact Binders had clearly given them commands to hunt the rank and file as a pack while the Pact Binders themselves remained hidden from sight, preparing to summon a fresh wave of Angels into the fray.

 

“Majesty!” The Captain raised his shield high and darted over from the cover of a nearby building, “Reinforcements are passing through the Mournbrent City Portal as we speak! The Colonel is also leading a relief force to help hold the gate! Please remain in cover!” He snapped a quick salute and ran off towards another building.

 

Taking control of the Thrall Slaves had taken almost three-quarters of my mana, so I was not in a rush to do anything reckless when the soldiers still seemed to have things in hand. Then again, if the commander of the fortress decided to come out of hiding, I wasn’t going to back down from a fight either.

 

Expending my own accrued points to redeem an Evolution Elixir, I gulped it down and felt a little more like myself again as fresh mana began circulating through my body. Similarly, the willow bark was slowly pushing back my migraine and allowing me to perceive events with a clearer head.

 

Despite the fighting having only lasted no more than ten minutes so far, an uneasy stalemate appeared to have taken hold of the battlefield. With the exception of the summoned Angels and Ushu rampaging somewhere in the outer wall, no one was pushing to attack the other side, seemingly content with exchanging bolts, arrows, javelins, and a plethora of creative curses at a distance.

This was to our advantage, given that we were waiting for reinforcements. Which made it strange that the enemy would be so willing to behave so defensively. Granted, the Thralls commanders had made a number of tactical blunders before now, but with their control over the first floor in direct jeopardy, it didn’t make sense that they would choose now as the time to abandon their Russian-esque rushes against defensive positions. The Thralls had enough men that they could at the very least contest control over the gate, and that was ignoring the Vampyrs amongst their number that could wreak all sorts of havoc with only minimal risks of personal injury.

 

Deeply concerned, I willed Marco to find out what was going on and then report to me with what he could uncover.

 

I felt an external challenge for control over Ushu. However, the challenge was aborted shortly afterwards, accomplishing little more than momentarily redirecting my attention towards a section of the outer fortress I couldn’t see. It happened again shortly afterwards and just as quickly ended. Unsure of what was going on, the best I could assume was that Thralls or perhaps even a Vampyr was attempting to seize control of Ushu, only to be torn to pieces for their effort. Or perhaps cancelling the attempt when the pain was revealed to be more than they had bargained for.

 

Reinforcements from the city arrived shortly afterwards, having apparently been transported just a short distance from the fortress’s barrier and moved double-time in order to reinforce our position. It came as something of a surprise to the Lieutenant in charge that our position was not in fact on the brink of being overrun, and that, no he may not lead an assault against the enemy.

 

The Lieutenant's men were instead put to work establishing a large bonfire outside of the gate to serve as a beacon for other reinforcements.

 

Still waiting on Marco, the Colonel and his relief force arrived next, requiring a minor offensive to take place in order to seize enough territory to shelter all the soldiers from opportunistic ranged attacks.

 

The battle of attrition appeared to be firmly in our favour, but there was still no sign of the Vampyrs, only their Thralls.

 

“Majesty!” The Colonel snapped a salute as he stepped into the shelter of the building alongside me. “By your leave I-” His voice caught in his throat as Marco suddenly appeared between us. Either not recognising the Vampyr, or recognising him and not trusting him, the Colonel’s blade appeared against Marco’s throat only a half-second later.

 

Eyes wide in surprise, Marco pressed himself back into the wall of the building so hard that the rough planks groaned in protest. “I-I have news!” Marco hissed defensively, baring his elongated and sharpened canines in the process.

 

I waved the Colonel down and motioned for Marco to continue.

 

“It’s a trap!” Marco exclaimed emphatically, “The commander is calling in reinforcements to surround the fortress and prevent your escape! You need to flee back to the tower! No...Back to the city!”

 

“How many men?” The Colonel demanded, seemingly unphased by the prospect of being surrounded and caught in a trap.

 

“Thousands! And not just infantry! The commander has been given permission to field Blood Wights and Fel Bats! You need to retreat!” Marco insisted for the second time.

 

“Majesty,” the Colonel sheathed his sword and fixed me with a stern but almost pleading expression, “I know I have not done much to warrant your confidence in my abilities. However, I beg of you to heed my advice now...” He took a deep breath and briefly bowed his head before staring me determinedly in the eyes, “We can hold this position! We can use the enemy’s own trap to our advantage, crushing their commander and seizing the fortress in one decisive blow! Our informant claims that the commander intends to surround and destroy us! Moving that many men takes time! If your Majesty would activate one of your artefacts and begin the conquest of the fortress, the enemy commander’s reinforcements will be cut off while the territory is disputed! And when we prevail, we will match their forces, man to man, until they are broken and forced to retreat!” An inner fire burned bright in the Colonel’s eyes and I was aware that he had activated at least one of his inspirational Class Abilities, but he had a point.

 

Grimacing against the pain, I looked up towards the near-transparent barrier and pushed.

 

Cracks began spreading like spider webs across the surface of the barrier until it became too much and collapsed entirely.

 

[Mandatory Quest: Conquest! {Active}]

[Conquest! {Stage 1}: Locate and destroy the {Enemy} {Totem}. You must complete this task within 3d. {Success} will bind the territory to your will and unlock the next stage of the quest. {Failure} will result in your death. All {Teleportation} is disabled until the Quest is resolved. Good luck!]

 

The black panel disappeared the moment I finished reading it and was replaced with another much smaller panel at the top of my peripheral vision.

 

[ 2d : 23h : 59m ]

 

Precisely what the Colonel wanted, he gave me a determined and grateful nod before donning his helmet and barking new orders to his soldiers.

 

“Marco, what is this fortress’s Totem?” I asked while making sure to keep my voice even and steady.

 

Somewhat shell shocked, Marco just stared blankly back at me until I introduced an element of command to the question. “The commander’s coffin...” He replied quietly, “It’s located deep in the bowels of the castle dungeons...Alongside his subordinates and the Guardian left by the Liche.”

 

That was going to be inconvenient since I doubted the castle would be any more accommodating than the tower had been.

 

“See if you can stir some discontent amongst the ranks or something,” I told Marco, “But make sure to keep your cover intact. This is just one battle of the many to come before the Liche is put down for good.”

 

Marco nodded uncertainly and then disappeared in a burst of shadows.

 

The Colonel was not messing about and already had two assault teams preparing to annex the rest of the outer wall territory. Controlling both gates would make receiving reinforcements easier, but it would also deny the same opportunity to the enemy. This was now doubly important since the wild undead were now able to approach the fortress with impunity.

 

The change in tactics had unsurprisingly resulted in the abbot and his militant priests seeking shelter inside of the walls near the gate. However, they did not flee any further, instead, the summoned angels were redirected against the approaching undead. This had a twofold benefit, as Ophelia was seemingly without fear and could handily dispatch even the fastest Crypt Stalkers, and her luminous presence served as a secondary beacon for allied reinforcements.

 

The abbot himself engaged in the fighting with a two-handed shining copper sword I was quite certain he had not originally possessed. Similar to the Angels, any undead cut down by the blade would briefly emit a rich amber light before falling truly lifeless to the ground.

 

Curious, I concentrated on the weapon to bring up its information. Impeded by the distance, it took the better part of five minutes before the information appeared in front of me.

 

[Holy Sword {Orphiel/Ophelia}: Deals additional damage against {Spirits} and {Undead}, and allows attacks against {Incorporeal} targets. {Spirits} and {Undead} slain by the blade are {Consecrated}. (Special Condition): The {Consecration} Class Ability allows a portion of the {Consecrated} mana to be retained by the wielder.]

 

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at the abbot, “That seems about right,” I muttered incredulously, but then I changed my mind as I remembered the abbot’s former exploits against a Vampyr that had attacked the tower. Maybe this was for the best after all.

 

I was drawn from my musings when Ushu returned and hunkered down in the street, making it that much more difficult for friendly soldiers to move around, but also providing a substantial amount of cover in the process. Able to see a couple of javelins protruding from his side, and a few dozen new cuts along his belly, I could tell Ushu was in pain, and not at all happy about obeying my conditional command to return.

 

Leaving cover, I did my best to remove the Javelins without causing Ushu further harm, a difficult process given that the enemy javelins were barbed.

 

Ordering the enemy fallen to be gathered and stripped so Ushu could recover some HP, I searched through the enemy supplies for some water and then began pulverising my remaining willow bark between a pair of rocks. Bruising and then shredding the bark to a veritable paste, I mixed it with a barrel of water and upended it into Ushu’s gullet.

 

Conditioned enough at this point to not complain over the bitter taste, Ushu almost seemed grateful as he began tearing up the road to better hide from the remaining active enemy ballistae atop the inner wall and castle.

 

Reinforcements continued arriving in staggered waves, every one of them now having fought through a slowly tightening ring of wild undead closing in on the fortress. Eventually, the wild undead would be depleted, but because they were drawn from much farther distances than regular monsters, it would be unlikely that the undead would cease their ongoing attack until the late afternoon. This added a sense of urgency to those doing their best to not only provide support to their besieged comrades but to find shelter from the wild monster respawn at midnight.

 

Despite the arrival of a half dozen Field Surgeons, I was determined to keep Ushu out of the fight for the time being. Content to have him slowly regain HP by consuming the corpses of Thralls while the Rangers continued their personal war of attrition burning down the enemy ballistae.

 

For his part, Ushu seemed content to maul the enemy corpses, for the time being at least.

 

*Broot! Brooooot!*

 

A horn call I was entirely unfamiliar with came from somewhere to the north, perhaps signalling the arrival of some of the enemy commander’s reinforcements. The sudden redeployment of so many soldiers seemed to support that assumption.

 

*Brooo-BOOM!*

 

The next horn call was interrupted by an explosion powerful enough to cause the ground to tremble.

 

“DAR SMASH YOU!!!” A familiar voice bellowed from somewhere to the north.

 

*BOOM!*

 

*Brooot! Broot! Brooo-BOOM!*

 

“DAR EAT YOU!!!” The voice was unmistakable, but it took me a few moments to accept that the hulking Daemon was actually here.

 

Ushu shifted uncomfortably, perhaps worried that he was no longer in fact the largest or more deadly predator in the vicinity. Which actually reminded me of something important.

 

Snatching up one of the bloody barbed javelins I had removed from Ushu’s hide, I began running towards the north side of the fortress. If Dar was really here, then a sample of Ushu’s DNA could make him that much stronger.

 

Rushing past surprised soldiers, I made good time in spite of the ground shaking every half dozen seconds.

 

With the gate shut against whatever was outside, I opted for climbing the wall instead.

 

A massive army was in a state of disarray as a green-scaled behemoth thrashed, smashed and crashed through its ranks with reckless abandon.

 

Thrall crossbowmen and Asrusian Archers were firing at the enemy as quickly as they could manage, but it was clear that without Dar’s interference, they would not have been able to slow let alone stem the tide of enemy soldiers approaching the gate.

 

Even with all his success, Dar was visibly wounded, the broken shafts of javelins, spears and bolts could be seen scattered across his scaly hide.

 

“DAR!!!” I roared and pulled back my arm as I took a dozen steps back.

 

For a moment, Dar’s carnage came to a halt, a dozen reptilian eyes falling upon me before returning to track his most immediate threats.

 

“CATCH!!!” I ran along the wall and threw the barbed javelin with all my might.

 

As the javelin arced towards Dar, I felt a cold rush of anxiety as Dar failed to move to intercept it. However, just as the javelin was about to impale itself in his back, Dar whipped his crocodilian tail, smacking the butt of the javelin and causing it to spin towards his waiting jaws.

 

*Clonk*

 

Dar didn’t stop moving. Using his accrued momentum, the hulking Daemon barrelled over a mess of Thralls that had drawn too close, crushing them to death through sheer bodyweight.

 

A golden flash to my left momentarily blinded me in one eye, but as I turned to regard the source of the light, I realised that the soldier furtively glancing past the battlements, and who had just levelled up, was almost certainly the one responsible for bringing Dar to the battlefield.

 

The soldier looked back at me with a hint of surprise before staggering and falling on his ass.

 

More than familiar with mana exhaustion, I extended a private invitation of my own personal quest reward system to the struggling soldier. Dar was too important to the battle, if this soldier had to go into renal failure to keep Dar in the fight, it was a sacrifice he was going to need to make.

 

*****

 

Joshua tried to stand but immediately thought better of it.

 

“Try not to drink too much at once,” the towering form of his Majesty commanded, pushing a low tier Evolution Elixir into Joshua’s trembling hands.

 

Trying to protest, Joshua was struggling to find the right words.

 

“It isn’t about you,” his Majesty reminded him coldly, “It’s about everyone else and how Dar is one of the only things standing between them and being overrun. So drink.”

 

Joshua cursed himself for being selfish and gulped down a mouthful of the burning liquid before cradling the jar to his chest.

 

Between the steady drain of mana supporting his summoned Daemon and the gradual replenishment provided by the Elixir, Joshua found himself in a limbo-like state of consciousness. Drifting between extreme focus and a waking stupor, Joshua continued to do as he commanded, drinking from the jar at fixed intervals while trying to stave off a mounting sense of dizziness.

 

“He isn’t going to last,” his Majesty stated with concern, “You! Go fetch me one of the priests! No! Fetch them all!” He commanded.

 

Unable to fully understand what was going on, Joshua was vaguely aware that he spilled sick down his front and that his abdomen felt like someone had stuck him with a knife and was twisting the blade for good measure.

 

It took him a while to realise, but instinctively Joshua understood he had arrived at the correct conclusion. He was dying.

 

Although not particularly religious, Joshua appreciated his Majesty’s efforts to provide him with last rites.

 

Accepting a fresh jar of Elixir, Joshua took a long slow pull before settling back into the dizzying haze.

 

He was an only child and hadn’t quite gotten around to getting married despite coming up hard in his forties. Joshua had always thought there would be more time. The army was all he knew and Joshua just sort of figured things would be arranged for him. As embarrassed as he was to admit it, he distinctly remembered his drill instructor promising that the army would issue him with a wife if he needed one. It was only now that he was on death’s door that Joshua allowed himself to accept the promise as a joke.

 

He had done his best to live a good life. Obeyed the law, obeyed his superiors, volunteered for the worst details so his married friends could spend time with their families...

 

Joshua took another long pull of Elixir. It felt like he was drinking fire, but he did as he was ordered, understanding that his sacrifice would save the lives of his comrades.

 

Joshua was one of the first volunteers to become a Pact Binder, in the days before Asrus fully accepted his majesty’s mantle of protection. Although initially exciting due to the unknown dangers, it had very quickly devolved into Joshua’s life being dominated by slaying monsters for EXP and summoning the rat-like Daemon Wraithe to perform healing on his wounded comrades.

 

Until today, Joshua had been oblivious to what the Daemons were truly capable of. In truth, he had attempted to summon a far weaker combat Daemon, but something had gone...awry. The Daemon Joshua had called for, was not the one that appeared. Presumably named Dar, Jushua had not even known a Daemon like that even existed. However, as troubling as that revelation had been, Joshua was profoundly thankful that the Daemon was at the very least nominally on their side.

 

Unfortunately, the behemoth consumed more mana than Wraithe in a triage tent. As grizzly as it was to consider, the primary reason the Daemon had managed to last as long as it had before his Majesty’s intervention was because the Daemon was consuming mana stones from the fallen. Lessening the immediate burden on Joshua himself, the majority of enemies were too weak to provide little more than a moment of reprieve.

 

Just as Joshua was resigning himself to the darkness, he felt the pain suddenly lessen and the fog clouding his eyes recede.

 

With the visage of a beautiful woman kneeling over him, Joshua felt tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “I-Is that heaven?” He asked tentatively.

 

The woman gave Joshua a bemused look before pressing a fresh jar of Elixir into his hands, “Drink,” she insisted, her eyes boring into his soul and filling him with hope.

 

Joshua did as he was told, drinking deep while trying to show he was enjoying the woman’s touch too much.

 

*BOOM!*

 

Joshua was literally shaken to his senses as the wall he was sitting upon shook violently, reminding Joshua of where he was and what he had been doing.

 

The beautiful woman came into focus and revealed her inhuman nature through the six shimmering scythe-like wings of amber coloured mana protruding from her back. “Drink,” she repeated insistently, a profound yet fleeting expression of empathy in her eyes.

 

Joshua did as he was told, but this time he noticed the woman flinch ever so slightly in response.

 

Not nearly as worse off as he had felt earlier, Joshua still felt pretty bad. However, looking into the yellowing eyes of the woman kneeling over him, he only now realised that whatever she was doing in order to prolong his life was taking a toll on her in turn.

 

“Drink,” her voice was sweet like honey and Joshua obeyed without resistance, earning a sad smile from her in return as she collapsed to the ground and faded away.

 

Joshua nearly dropped the Elixir in shock but froze when he recognised the woman approaching from his right side, her face splattered with blood and eyes fiercely boring into his own.

 

“Drink...” She commanded, her tone making it clear that she would not tolerate disobedience.

 

Joshua quailed under her scrutiny, choking down the Elixir as best he could manage while wondering if he was indeed truly dead and this was his eternal punishment...