Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 59 - Tides of undeath - Part One

 

Honouring the request made by the Dwergi, I terraformed the space for the arena just enough to allow the tournament to function. It would be up to the Dwergi to improve and develop it further over time.

 

The tournament would be different to those that had come before.

 

After exhaustive debate and testing, Sebet’s Sculpt Flesh Spell was proven to serve as a near-perfect means of stabilising most conventional forms of injury. The Spell itself could reattach limbs, restore organs functionality, and halt bleeding. The only downside was that it prevented Surgeons from applying their form of immediate healing.

 

Surgeons could still accelerate the long-term recovery of HP, but the discovery was still somewhat disappointing. However, the Surgeons long-term healing Abilities synergised incredibly well with my own Iron Gut Ability, reducing recovery time from days, weeks or months, into hours or even minutes.

 

With Sanctuary’s stockpile of donated mana stones to serve as collateral, participants in the tournament would be covered by a restoration Contract. This would allow the participants to engage in otherwise lethal combat and earn considerably more Exp without an unacceptably high risk of fatalities.

 

The tournament was already stratified into tiers that would match the general capabilities of the participants. I was confident that a few solid ground rules combined with the restoration Contract would make the tournament safe enough to satisfy my conscience.

 

Sebet wasted no time in advertising the restoration Contract to the major Factions alongside the emergency recall Contract. Playing off their need to preserve both anonymity in the outside world and retain high-level soldiers.

 

The costs, so far as I was aware of them, would be many times higher than those within my Demi-Plane. The distance was the primary factor in determining costs, and Sebet wasn’t shy about turning a figurative profit either.

 

The raw mana harvested through established Contracts was one of the three methods she could fuel her growth. The traditional absorption of mana stones or Evolution Elixir was a given, but I had barred her from using the third method in all but the direst of circumstances.

 

True to the mythos of her namesake, Sebet could literally drain the life from her victims. The same Ability also drained their core mana, causing permanent damage to their future development. Assuming they survived.

 

With the preparations complete, I initiated the next stage of the quest and signalled the beginning of the selection tournament.

 

As tempted as I was to watch the opening matches of the tournament, I was forced to admit that there would be little reason to do so beyond indulging a desire for violent entertainment. Besides, I had my training to be getting on with anyway.

 

With all the second chances to earn reentry to the primary tournament, it took the better part of a fortnight to cycle through the lowest-tier participants and move on to the middle tier.

 

The deadline for the Asrusian mobilisation was growing closer and the wargames between the Asrusian and the Fireheart Factions had intensified with every passing day. Besides the obvious element of competition between the two Factions, the leaders on both sides were using the opportunity to issue quests to level up their forces.

 

Despite their relative inexperience with conventional warfare, the Kobold forces of the Fireheart Faction were leaps and bounds ahead of the Asrusians when it came to guerrilla tactics. Both Factions seemed to be learning a great deal from one another, but I was concerned that their mutual spirit of competition might devolve into outright hostility.

 

My training was progressing slowly but I was showing improvement. Frequent sparring against Ophelia had ingrained an otherwise lacking sense of self-preservation in my training. As skilled as Faine was, he lacked Ophelia’s ruthlessness and single-minded drive to dominate her opponents. Not that the benefits of our sparring were all so one-sided.

 

To put it bluntly, I was literally the toughest opponent Ophelia could spar with multiple times in any given day. My mediocre skills were offset by my sheer Strength and Toughness, evening the playing field more than I otherwise would have expected. We were not a perfect match, but our frequent sparring had produced tangible results.

 

So long as I was prepared to soak a hit in exchange, I had learned that I would be able to drastically increase my chances of landing a blow in turn. Training with only minimal armour made the exchange painful. However, Ophelia had already begun to devise counters, requiring me to become more creative for the gambit to succeed.

 

I had lost count of the number of broken fingers and hairline fractures our sparring had inflicted. At a certain point, keeping count had seemed more like complaining than tracking the destructive effects of our sparring.

 

Enduring the pain tested my resolve, but it was made easier with the presence of my family serving as a constant reminder of what I was fighting for. Physical pain was nothing compared to my ever-present fear of losing those I loved.

 

“You’re turning into a real battle junky,” Clarice barked in amusement from the sidelines, “I can hardly believe you’re the same person from a few months ago.”

 

“I was in a bad place...” I admitted while trying not to recall the intense depression that had preceded my arrival in the Labyrinth. “I didn’t have anything to fight for either,” I added and smiled slightly as I looked across the lake.

 

The twins were cackling and shrieking as Lash chased them through the shallows on the opposite bank of the lake.

 

“You’re a good dad, Tim...” Clarice said quietly.

 

Looking away from my family, I was surprised to find that Clarice’s earlier amusement had evaporated entirely.

 

With a scowl on her lips, Clarice stared at the ground for a handful of seconds before suddenly changing her demeanour. “I mean it,” Clarice insisted earnestly, “I can tell, just by the way you look at your kids, you would do anything for them, right?”

 

I nodded.

 

Clarice’s smirk returned, only it was now somewhat forced, “They are lucky to have you. Shit, we all are!” A somewhat manic edge had entered her voice and Clarice made a show of keeping her arms away from her sides.

 

I had known her long enough to know that something was bothering her. I also knew Clarice well enough to know that asking her what was bothering her would just aggravate her further. I just needed to wait it out and see if she would open up on her own.

 

“Tim?...Do you?...” Clarice was determinedly avoiding eye contact and had begun clenching and unclenching her fists, “Do you think I would be a good mom?...”

 

The question caught me off guard. However, it was obvious that Clarice needed an answer and any delay on my part would cast doubt on my answer, regardless of sincerity. “I don’t know,” I replied honestly, startling both Clarice as well as myself. “I’m not even sure I’m a good dad...” I continued anxiously, “I want to be with Lash and our children almost more than anything, but it’s so easy to justify being away from them...To keep them safe, there are so many things I have to do and many more that I could be doing. But it means spending less time with them, missing out on being a part of their lives...I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make this about me,” I apologised and tried to gather my thoughts.

 

Clarice closed her eyes and nodded stiffly as she let out a long frustrated sigh, “Isn’t that part of what makes you a good dad?” She asked bitterly, “You want to be there, but all the shit you have to deal with keeps you away...Fuck! Why did even say anything?! Just forget it!-” Clarice turned to leave but I caught her by the arm and held her in place.

 

“What’s this all about Clarice?” I asked, unable to and willing to conceal my sincere concern.

 

Clarice’s bicep flexed for a moment and I felt her attempt to pull away. However, when it became clear that I wasn’t going to let go, and that she couldn’t free herself, Clarice stopped resisting. Her body tensed and her hands balled into fists, “It’s my family...I told you about them before...kind of...We don’t get along...” Clarice grunted and shifted uncomfortably, “Even if they are shitheads...Even if I can’t stand them...”

 

“They’re still family,” I released Clarice’s arm and nodded in understanding. With that piece of the puzzle, I could somewhat guess the motivation that drove Clarice’s earlier question. “You’re afraid those relationships define the future relationship you would have with your children.”

 

With visible hesitation, Clarice stiffly nodded.

 

“I won’t lie,” I cautioned her, “It’s something to be wary of. However, it’s ultimately up to you whether you allow those relationships to define who you are and how you will live your life.”

 

Trauma had a way of turning its victims into perpetrators of the same trauma. Like the way bacteria and viruses used an infected host to transmit themselves to others.

 

“It’s just...Grrrr!” Clarice growled angrily and pulled at her hair, “There’s a reason I left home! I fucking hate them!” The anger quickly left her and she stared out over the lake, “But they have kids...And as much as I want to hate them too, I can’t...They haven’t done shit to me or anyone...”

 

A buried memory of an offhand comment resurfaced in my memory and I felt a cold chill pass through my gut. “Your family, they’re in the empire, aren’t they?”

 

Clarice nodded sullenly.

 

“Do you know where?” I forced the defeatist thoughts into the background and focused on being productive.

 

Clarice shook her head, “The capital, maybe...But they were in the north when I left...” Her eyes darkened, “They would go wherever the money is...But the old man has enemies...So...I don’t know...That is...If they are even still alive...”

 

I tried my best to comfort Clarice, but she quickly became emotionally withdrawn and left without saying a word.

 

After sparing a moment to return to my original form, I gathered my mana and Summoned my champions and the Asrusian Regent. “The invasion of the Werrian Empire begins now,” I stated bluntly, “I expect all invasion forces to be ready and underway by daybreak.”

 

“Majesty!” Faine, Jayne and Randle saluted in unison and disappeared as I dismissed their projections.

 

“Our approach must be made through conventional means,” the Regent cautioned, “Marching hard, our foot soldiers will take a week to reach the northern pass-”

 

“I will provide Kobold auxiliaries,” I interjected, trying and failing to suppress a momentary surge of anger, “The Asrusian army WILL move at speed to the northern pass.”

 

The Regent paled slightly and nodded, “I will see it is so...”

 

I dismissed his projection with a wave of my hand. “Sebet-”

 

“I will liberate as many Slaves and commoners as I am able, Great One,” Sebet declared fervently, having already read my mind, “And will not limit my efforts to the camp of our enemies.”

 

I nodded approvingly and then hesitated, if only for a moment, “You have my permission to use whatever means necessary to preserve your true identity from our enemies...”

 

Sebet’s smile extended a full two inches wider than was humanly possible, forming a shark-toothed crescent. “By your command, Great One, I obey!”

 

Dismissing Sebet’s projection, I opened my mind and issued a mental call to Gric, and through him, every Daemon within Sanctuary. It took them less than a minute to assemble before me. Most had been in my relative vicinity already, but even those further afield had made impossible good time traversing Sanctuary’s grounds.

 

“I am going to war,” I stated bluntly, emphasizing myself, “It will be your responsibility to safeguard Sanctuary and my family in my absence-”

 

The Daemons stared up at me with sycophantic devotion, hanging on my every word with a fanaticism that would have made the most deranged Cthulian cultists rethink their own life choices.

 

“-Lash will serve as regent in all respects until my return...or...or until my children come of age and she deems them fit to rule...” The thought of widowing Lash and leaving my children fatherless hurt and was immeasurably uncomfortable to think about, but it was a distinct possibility I needed to account for. “I will not return until the Liche is destroyed for good...or my vengeance is satisfied...” took a moment to share eye contact with each of them, “I’m so proud of what you all, and who you have chosen to become.”

 

They were not my biological children, and sometimes I treated them more like tools than people, but I meant every word. The Daemons had proven time and again that they could be more than savage killers if given the chance. Words couldn’t begin to express how proud I was of them.

 

The Daemons beamed with pride, releasing pleased guttural hissing and chittering in response to the unexpected praise.

 

“I know you all will continue to make me proud in my absence,” I reaffirmed before taking my leave and using my authority to visit the Fireheart capital.

 

Recruiting volunteers to provide Synergies to the Asrusian army wasn’t particularly difficult. However, it didn’t stop Iristrixanthrax from bargaining hard for every advantage and benefit she could get in exchange.

 

I had planned on rewarding those who participated anyway, so I wasn't particularly annoyed.

 

By the time I returned home, Lash had already figured out what was happening, so it didn’t take long to fill her in on my arrangements with the Daemons. It had been an unspoken assumption between us, and no doubt for many others. However, saying it all aloud made it feel far more real.

 

Toofy still behaved more or less the same as when we first met. However, she accepted my leaving with far less hesitance than previously, insisting that she would keep Pete and Suzy safe until I made it home again. Adopting Ril and Anette had matured Toofy in ways I hadn’t expected of her, but I appreciated it.

 

A small part of me was disappointed that no one, not even Lash, attempted to convince me to stay. I understood that my position came with responsibilities, but it didn’t make me any less afraid. Afraid of not returning home again. Afraid of returning home broken...

 

I barely slept, instead, choosing to imprint the faces of my children in my mind. A reminder of why I was leaving, and why I needed to make it home again.

 

I left before sunrise, giving Lash and our children one final kill goodbye and telling them each how much I loved them.

 

With the almost guaranteed possibility of being spied upon while in the field, I would be using my human disguise to reduce the attention I would personally receive.

 

Wisp was waiting just outside of my cave, his pale body cloaked in black billowing robes of shadow. A long length of fine silver chain was tied around his left arm and was linked to a small unlit lantern carried in his left hand. “I have made all the preparations that I am able,” Wisp announced in his usual dry crackling whisper, “Should the physical form of the Liche be destroyed within close proximity, the lantern shall imprison her soul...” The chain binding Wisp to the lantern made it clear that he would be accompanying it wherever it went.

 

I nodded in approval, “And you are confident that the Dirge of Undeath will draw all the lesser undead?”

 

The hood of Wisp’s robe bobbed briefly as he nodded his assent, “Yes, quite confident.”

 

“What if I empowered it?” I asked hesitantly, “Would that be strong enough to draw the Liche?” If I could end the war sooner, I would do it.

 

“Unlikely...” Wisp replied cautiously, “Although, it would likely draw away most, if not all, of the Liche’s Lieutenants. Depending on their degree of personal autonomy and proximity, of course...”

 

What about an Empowered Bane Spell?” I pressed, “How is it different from the regular version?”

 

“I am unsure,” Wisp admitted apprehensively, “But I suspect the Empowered effect will increase the destructive properties of the Spell, or at the least, increase its duration.”

 

“I guess we will find out...” I muttered disappointedly and began donning my armour.

 

A short while later, Ushu surged out of the lake and took flight. Only moments behind him, Cooper and Dhizi did the same, the mana-rich lake water falling like rain in their wake.

 

Fesk and Nadine had both begun descending the elevator to their home, engaging in a flurry of conversation that I was too far away to read clearly. Just judging by the fact that they were both wearing their armour, it was clear that Nadine intended to accompany us at least a part of the way.

 

After strapping on the third and final layer of my armour, I opted to hang my helmet by its straps from my belt for the time being. With a thought, I recalled Blackthorn into my right hand and then carefully looped it through my belt as well.

 

Confident that Fesk and Nadine would be able to catch up with little difficulty, I made my way out of The Grove and began heading for the Gateway. I indulged in the minor exercise to help settle my nerves. Otherwise, I would have just used my authority to move myself and everyone else about.

 

Nila and her team were already in the process of strapping on Ushu’s latest saddle when I arrived. They were assisted by ten Thralls whom I assumed were members of Fesk’s team, or soon would be.

 

Unlike Cooper’s saddle, Ushu’s saddle had an even larger platform with an oblong dome of reinforced hardened leather with stylised fins running along the top. The saddle was large enough that it could probably shelter the entire team of Thralls in relative comfort. Assuming measures had been taken to allow for abrupt changes in directional orientation.

 

Unlike Nila’s team who predominantly used bows, the Thralls all carried Dwergi-made lever action crossbows. I hadn’t seen one in person before and wasn’t sure how the claw was able to avoid generating drag after pulling the drawstring into place. However, the Thralls appeared quite happy with their choice of weapon, so I figured the crossbows had to be worth whatever price they paid for them. Assuming, of course, that they did in fact pay for them.

 

Dhizi was positively dwarfed when compared to Ushu’s sheer bulk. If the current disparity in size continued, it wouldn’t be unrealistic to imagine Dhizi riding on Ushu’s back and using him as a sort of living aircraft carrier.

 

Clarice and Sebet were seeing to Dhizi’s far more conventional saddle themselves without difficulty.

 

Ushu had the greatest weight tolerance, but for the sake of accounting for possible unknowns, I decided that Randle and Jayne would travel with Nila and her team on Cooper. Nadine, Faine and myself would join Fesk and his team on Ushu alongside a Lesser Summoned Kobold. Wisp hunkered down inside of the domed shelter without needing to be asked.

 

With Nila’s assistance, I was strapped into a riding harness and shown how to anchor myself to Ushu’s saddle. I could have claimed the rider’s seat in the saddle, but I felt like Fesk had truly earned it at this point. Besides, the platform and outside of the dome featured hundreds of potential anchoring points.

 

With Nila being the highest-ranking military officer present, and everyone wearing Asrusian colours, I assigned her the position of acting commander.

 

Instead of travelling through the capital city on foot, Ushu, Cooper and Dhizi launched themselves up into the sky from the castle grounds.

 

Much to my surprise, Nila quickly demonstrated that she had learned a limited amount of sign language, and so had her team. Her signing was limited to basic observations and directional instructions, but it was interesting all the same.

 

It came as far less of a surprise that Fesk’s team of Thralls had a much stronger grasp of signing and weren’t shy about holding lengthy discussions in near-complete silence. Which was just as well since the wind made communicating verbally incredibly unreliable. Although it did alienate Faine somewhat since he was surrounded by conversations he couldn’t understand, let alone take part in.

 

With a Summoned Kobold’s Synergy, our vanguard was able to fly for two straight days before landing for a comparatively short rest to recuperate.

 

“So...What exactly is the plan?” Nadine asked with nervous enthusiasm, “Are we just going to fly to the Werrian capital? Or?...”

 

“No,” I replied firmly, “As much as I want to take the fight straight to the Liche, fighting the Liche on its home turf would be suicide.”

 

“Indeed,” Wisp agreed without hesitation.

 

“I want to turn the northern pass into a fortified kill zone and try to lure the Liche into coming to us instead,” I insisted adamantly, “From everything I have been told, the pass is our best bet to funnel the undead into a more manageable front. Once it becomes clear that the sheer numbers won't be able to beat us, the Liche will have to come out and face us or run away again. If the Liche tries to run, we will chase it down. So long as we aren't fighting the Liche in its own territory, then it's worth the risk to take it out.”

 

Nadine frowned slightly in confusion, “But how are-”

 

[Hush. We are not alone.] Without further warning, Sebet leapt to her feet and sprinted out into the woods.

 

Minutes passed and then the silence was broken by a terrified primal scream.

 

Sebet returned shortly afterwards, dragging a desiccated lightly armoured corpse behind her. “A Confederate Scout,” Sebet explained casually before crouching and stripping the corpse of its belongings. “There is a Confederate camp a few hours to the east. So I guess it’s time for me to get to work,” she sighed but was smiling eagerly. However, after stripping and changing into the Scout’s clothing and equipment, her smile waned as she looked over at Clarice. Without saying a word, she walked over to Clarice and gave her a tight hug and a kiss that left both their lips bloody.

 

With a half-hearted wave to the camp at large, Sebet stalked off into the woods.

 

“That Scout is a man...” Randle commented with a blend of confusion and concern, “Won’t they know she’s not the Scout they are missing?”

 

“She’s something of a specialist...” I answered somewhat awkwardly, making a note to fill in my champions on Sebet’s capabilities.

 

In all fairness, despite my relative familiarity with the Sculpt Flesh Spell, I hadn’t considered that Sebet would be able to change her sex. In hindsight, I had been painfully naive.

 

It did make her relationship with Clarice more complicated than I had initially thought and added much-needed context to Clarice’s fears on motherhood. It also served as an indicator that their relationship was more serious than I had expected. That, or Clarice had cause to be worried about becoming pregnant...

 

“What?!” Clarice crossed her arms defensively and glared at the camp at large in an open challenge.

 

“I just hadn’t considered that she could do ‘that’,” Nadine replied apologetically before narrowing her eyes at Clarice suspiciously, “Is this why-”

 

Clarice took a half step back, “Sh-Shut up!” She stomped off and hid behind Dhizi until it was time to leave again.

 

As we approached the northern pass that marked the former border between the Asrusian Kingdom and the Werrian Empire, we began to spot loose hordes of lesser undead wandering in a generally southward direction.

 

Within moments of landing in the mountain pass, zombies, skeletons and other lesser undead began swarming toward our position.

 

The moment myself and my champions had dismounted, Ushu and Cooper bounded into battle. Akin to an angry child stomping ants, the pair of Dragons were unstoppable.

 

With Faine, Jayne and Randle covering my position, I focused on gathering my mana pulling stone out of the mountains on either side to form a ten-foot-high wall. I tried my best to use as much stone from the foot of the mountains on the other side of the wall as possible. I wanted to make it as difficult as possible for the undead to circle around or otherwise bypass the wall.

 

When the wall was completed, I directed my champions southward and took the opportunity to lay into the undead with Blackthorn to accelerate my mana regeneration.

 

The trio’s blessed weapons cut through the undead with little perceived effort.

 

After allowing my mana to fully regenerate, I began forming a second wall to match the first.

 

“Look out!” Randle’s warning gave me just enough time to step out of the way as a dark hooded figure swept past with a naked blade.

 

“Vampyre!” Jayne roared, her voice thrumming with mana and causing the dark figure to stumble as the figure's head violently snapped toward her.

 

Before the Vampyre could react, Faine’s blessed spear tore through its back and erupted from its chest, spraying its foul ichorous blood across the ground.

 

The Vampyre spasmed like a dying spider and then collapsed into a mound of blackened ash.

 

I nodded grimly to the trio in thanks and redoubled my efforts in creating the wall. It would do little to impede the progress of greater undead like the Vampyres. However, it would make spotting any Vampyres who infiltrated the perimeter that much easier.

 

“Establishing a ward would be most wise,” Wisp’s advice and sudden appearance in my peripheral vision caught me off guard. As did the struggling Vampyre held high by the throat in his right hand. “It will weaken the lesser undead considerably and compromise whatever Spells are allowing THIS FILTH-” A bright silver-white light flashed beneath Wisp’s hood. The struggling Vampyre mouthed a soundless scream as an ephemeral simulacrum was drawn out of its body and into the depths of Wisp’s hood. ”-to infiltrate our ranks.”

 

Whatever Wisp had done to the Vampyre proved fatal. The moment he released it, the Vampyre collapsed into a pile of ash like the first.

 

“Right,” I agreed, trying to force the sheer terror I had witnessed in the Vampyre’s eyes out of my mind and concentrate on the task at hand. Picking a stone up off the ground, I began to gather my mana and raised my helmet’s visor. Biting the inside of my cheek, I spat the blood onto the stone and willed an Empowered Ward Spell to take hold of it.

 

Thin tendrils of blood arched out of my open mouth and wrapped themselves around the stone, binding it over and over until its entire surface was covered. Not a single drop fell away from the stone or was left behind on my gauntlet, as if the stone had an intense and specific gravity all of its own.

 

The blood surrounding the stone began to harden and took on an obsidian-like semi-transparency and sheen. Beneath the hard outer surface, I could see the blood slowly churning with a life of its own.

 

I handed the stone now turned vessel for the Empowered Ward to Wisp, confident that he would be able to watch over it while I continued forming our outermost defences.

 

Despite my champions’ most dedicated efforts, a small number of lesser undead had slipped through the remaining gap in our southern defences. However, with the Empowered Ward now active, the lesser undead lost most of their motive force and slowed to a crawl.

 

Able to outpace and outmanoeuvre the lesser undead without any effort whatsoever, Jayne, Faine and Randle’s butchery intensified tenfold. The retaliatory attacks of the Zombies and Skeletons were so feeble that the three champions had begun ignoring them outright.

 

After the two halves of the southern wall connected and combined into one solid piece of stone, I took a few minutes to quickly sate my hunger and replenish some of my lost fluids.

 

Rather than flattening and opening up the winding path of the territory we had claimed, I intended to build our fortifications into and out of the mountains themselves.

 

Once my mana had sufficiently regenerated, I turned my attention to the mountain slopes that overlooked the northern wall. I had been considering different options on the flight, and one idea, in particular, stood out.

 

I intended to line the slopes with fortified stone bunkers.

 

The relatively simple design was well within the scope of my relative inexperience. Furthermore, I was confident that, with some trial and error, I would be able to link each cluster of bunkers with a tunnel network through each mountain.

 

With no other immediate means of traversing the mountain, I decided to start by digging a wide trench up the mountainside and forming the sloping ground into steps. The ceiling would remain open for the time being, but I planned on sealing it after I had completed the bunkers.

 

Displacing such a prodigious amount of stone took the better part of an hour and caused me to reconsider sealing the stairs and open trenches altogether.

 

From the vantage afforded by the mountainside, I could see the undead coming from miles around. There were tens of thousands of them. Most of them seemed to have no clear direction in mind, simply following the largest source of movement and sound. This created a snowball effect where small groups would attract the attention of other undead, increasing the size of their group and drawing in more undead through their collective noise and motion.

 

Of course, Ushu and Cooper’s collective bellowing ensured that once the undead were close enough to hear them they would be headed more or less in our general direction.

 

Despite its simple design, it took me ten minutes to craft the first bunker. Thankfully, each bunker that came afterwards took a little less mana and time as I became more confident and proficient in my abilities.

 

The work would have gone faster if I had had my champions join in. Unfortunately, I needed them to watch my back. Shape Stone required very nearly all of my concentration at any given moment, leaving me vulnerable to ambush and ranged attacks in general. The trenches offset that danger somewhat, but they also made it more difficult to see the enemy coming before it was too late.

 

I had nearly completed a dozen bunkers on the north-western slopes of the eastern mountain when the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the mountains.

 

Lacking the dark-attuned vision of my true form, I switched focus from the bunkers to increasing the height of the northern wall. With so many undead already headed toward us, I was genuinely afraid that they would form a mountain of bodies and scale the wall.

 

Besides, the taller I made the wall, the sheerer I could make the bottommost slopes of the mountains on either side.

 

After hours of near-constant concentration, mental fatigue was beginning to get the better of me. And I had to refit one of the bunkers to serve as a rest stop so I could take a break. Sealing the viewing and firing port, I hunkered down in a corner and tried my best to decompress.

 

“Above us!” Randle cried out in warning.

 

What sounded like metal hail echoed through the entrance to the bunker.

 

“What the fuck is that thing it's riding?!” Jayne cursed.

 

“Does it matter?!” Faine shouted in reply as more of the hail pelted against the outside of the bunker, “The Dragons will make short work of it!”

 

The mountain shook beneath me as Ushu bellowed in rage.

 

“-already fleeing!” Faine shouted in triumph.

 

“I see more enemies in the sky to our west!” Jayne called out, “They don’t look nearly as big as that one, but there is a great deal more of them!”

 

“We need more ranged support!” Randle cursed.

 

With the prospect of relieving my mental fatigue well and truly ruined, I stiffly got to my feet and left the relative safety of the bunker in order to see things for myself.

 

Foot-long spikes were embedded in the mountain slopes on either side of the trench and the roof of the bunker. They looked like they were made of bone, but it was difficult to be sure while investigating my moonlight.

 

Whatever had attacked our position had disappeared behind the mountain, or at least I assumed it had done so since Ushu was flying to the southeast.

 

Clarice and Dhizi had retreated behind the wall and Cooper was preparing to take to the sky.

 

The reality of Dhizi and Clarice being so exposed drove me to begin boring a hole into the mountainside for them to take shelter in. I would have done the same for Cooper and Ushu, but caves of that size would no doubt collapse due to my lack of architectural and engineering experience.

 

“Majesty, the more nimble undead are attempting to scale the wall,” Faine observed with a scowl and pointed toward the wall.

 

Sure enough, Crypt Stalkers and other undead I couldn’t name were slowly inching their way up the wall.

 

A shift in the wind carried the stench of the gathering dead up the mountain and made it all the more difficult to think.

 

While shaking my head in an increasingly desperate attempt to clear my head I received my inspiration on what to do as my scattered focus was drawn to Blackthorn’s barbs.

 

Gathering as much mana as I was able, I did my best to picture the north-facing surface of the wall covered in sharp thorns. With the image firmly locked in my mind, I directed my mana to make it a reality.

 

The sudden and extreme expenditure of mana, combined with my accumulated mental fatigue left me light headed and I would have collapsed if Faine and Jayne had not taken hold of my arms to keep me upright.

 

“Just...I just...need a moment...” I muttered dizzily and did my best to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.

 

Vision blurry and already restricted to the slit of my helmet’s visor, I nearly missed Wisp’s approach toward the northern wall. The sudden surge in mana was my only warning before a sudden flash of bright silver light pierced through my eyelids.

 

“The undead are falling off the wall...” Randle grunted uncertainly, “Whatever that was, it looks like it’s working.”

 

“The Bane Spell,” I muttered distractedly while wishing I could remove my helmet and use the cold mountain air to try and clear my head.

 

Little by little, minute by minute, I forced my mind back into a semblance of working order.

 

Almost by pure chance, I recognised the danger lurking in the periphery. The intruder’s presence likely would have continued to go unnoticed if I wasn’t so acclimated to engaging in telepathy with the Daemons. It was an entirely unique sensation that required a deliberate, or unwitting, openness between both parties.

 

Whoever was probing into my mind had touched things they shouldn’t have, thoughts and memories the Daemons knew to leave well enough alone. Even so, they had nearly gotten away with it thanks to my accumulated fatigue.

 

Nearly.

 

Enraged by the violation, I seized my mental intruder before they could sever the connection and dragged them into the darkest corner of my mind. Sensing panic, I tightened my grip further and flooded the connection.

 

A raw primal scream echoed off the mountains and through my mind.

 

The intruder desperately fought to free themself, losing pieces of their own mind in their desperate bid for escape.

 

Beyond pity, I tightened my grip further and descended deeper into the depths. The pain at this level was nothing compared to what lurked below, and I knew I could outlast the intruder if needs be. After all, I had survived the worst it could muster already and was still standing.

 

I felt the intruder’s mind buckle and begin to collapse.

 

Fragmented memories began spilling through the connection but were destroyed before they could form a coherent message.

 

The intruder’s mind collapsed entirely and the connection between us was severed.

 

I staggered for a second time as an immense psychic pressure was lifted from my mind. My earlier fatigue was still present but was greatly diminished. Whatever and whoever the intruder was, it seemed to be a safe bet that their mental attack had been responsible for my earlier deterioration.

 

The absence of a kill notification made it clear that the invader was still alive. Unfortunately, they had all of the mountain range in the immediate area to hide in.

 

Unwilling to let the intruder get away, much less survive its trespass in my mind, I gathered my mana and Summoned a projection of Ophelia.

 

Borne aloft by her scythe-like wings of condensed divine mana, Ophelia’s copper-plated armour reflected and bathed the surrounding mountainside in amber light.

 

“There is a spellcaster hiding somewhere on the mountain,” I croaked angrily, “Find and destroy it!”

 

Ophelia’s projection nodded eagerly and raced up the mountainside.

 

I could only hope that she would be able to find her prey before it had a chance to escape. Assuming the intruder was able to recover, there was no telling how much information they had managed to steal from my mind before being discovered. It was a risk I was unwilling to take.

 

Ushu had returned from his chase with the mangled rotting remains of a huge bat-winged beast falling from his jaws. Any chance of investigating the defeated undead were lost as the corpse was dashed apart on the slopes of the mountain. Similarly, a quick search through the kill notifications provided only the label of Wight as an explanation to accompany the death of its presumed Vampyr rider.

 

The efforts of Nila and her team revealed the flying undead to be Zombies created from some form of Beast. However, there were no further clues as to what those Beasts may have been.

 

Cooper was wheeling away from the approaching airborne horde and slowly circling back toward her father.

 

Whether it was by Nila’s direction or undertaken by her own prerogative was unclear. However, it was definitely the smart play given the distinct possibility of Plague Zombies being hidden amongst their rotting kin.

 

As Nila swept overhead, I prepared to retreat into the bunker. The flying Zombies would lack the coordination to enter the bunker on the wing and would be forced to land before attempting entry. This would give us a key advantage in fighting them off.

 

As I was about to give the order to fall back, the frontmost member of the airborne horde began to dive. Only, something didn’t seem quite right. Casting Keen Senses, I got my first good look at the flying Zombies. They were some type of large monstrous bat but had fully developed hind legs with sharp claws.

 

I noticed something else as well, something important.

 

“INTO THE BUNKER!” I roared, shoving the others into motion as I scrambled into motion myself.

 

The Zombie bats were not diving toward our position in preparation for a battle. The Empowered Ward had crippled them and turned them into unwitting projectiles...

 

***** Sebet - Northern Asrus Kingdom ~ Confederation of Independent City-States forward base *****

 

Sebet moved through the camp with complete confidence and an air of arrogance that gave the soldiers on watch every reason to direct their gaze elsewhere. She had changed forms several times since infiltrating the confederate’s camp to better disguise her true nature.

 

The fact that securing her identity had allowed Sebet to devour her targets’ souls was simply a convenient and orgasmically delicious bonus.

 

True to her mission, Sebet had already freed a half dozen pleasure Slaves that had been kept by high-ranking officers. She had only needed to mention a passing interest in acquiring a comfort Slave to warm her bed for the night and then the officers had fallen over one another in their eagerness to gain favour.

 

Given the identity of the man Sebet was impersonating, it was not really a surprise at all.

 

Rahan Delquain had been the scion of a powerful noble house that controlled the twin cities of Calliope and Ashford in the heart of the Confederacy. The camp itself had been placed under his command by his father, making every soldier present a direct subordinate.

 

It was a convenient disguise and Sebet intended to make the most of it.

 

She was now headed to the edge of the camp where the combat Slaves were being kept.

 

Unlike the disappearance of the pleasure Slaves, explaining the sudden absence of the combat Slaves required considerably more cunning. Of course, it had only taken Sebet, genius that she was, a few moments to devise the perfect scheme. Not only would it allow her to explain the disappearance of the current force of combat Slaves, but it would serve as a ready excuse to justify the disappearance of those sent to replace them.

 

Sebet would set them loose under the pretence of hunting down the undead threatening to overrun the camp, which had already been one of Rahan’s most vocal concerns. The combat Slaves would be transported safely to Sanctuary after making it a predetermined distance from the camp. Provided they signed Sebet’s Contracts, of course.

 

Charming the right guards, sentries and Scouts would ensure that the desired narrative would be corroborated should outside forces make covert inquiries. All the while, Sebet would be free to request greater numbers of replacements for the combat Slaves and pleasure Slaves both.

 

The plan was very nearly perfect, even if Sebet did say so herself.

 

The only potential letdown lay in the sexual proclivities of her cover identity. Sebet would be the last one to cast aspersions on someone else's sexual preferences. Especially since she had no trouble in inventing new ones whenever she grew sufficiently bored. However, Rahan Delquain’s diverse interests eliminated the possibility of maintaining a flawless performance while also guaranteeing the delivery of the more valuable Variant females.

 

Sebet could specially request all his comfort Slaves to be Variants. However, the humans had all sorts of little tricks they used to fool one another to disguise the ‘wild’ monsters as their more desirable Variant cousins.

 

Unfortunately, it was a wrinkle Sebet would have to ignore in her otherwise flawless plan. She felt confident that the Tyrant would agree that she was making the right decision.

 

Just like the guards she had passed earlier, the soldiers on watch accepted their summary dismissal in obedient and fearful silence.

 

Sebet could tell at a glance that none of the combat Slaves met the Tyrant’s favoured preference, but she knew better than to discount them out of hand. The Tyrant cared more for those somewhat arbitrarily labelled as Variants, but he was not altogether unsympathetic toward those who weren’t Liberating the current host of combat Slaves would still earn her his favour, just not as much.

 

Connecting her mind to the one-hundred and seven combat Slaves locked within the caged wagons, Sebet sent a psychic pulse to gain their collective attention.

 

< If you desire freedom, you will listen closely to my words. > Sebet smiled and patiently waited for the Slaves' anticipation and curiosity to build to make them more receptive to her offer. < Your Masters offer only misery, pain, and a cruel death. I offer you the opportunity to live. To be free of your cruel Masters, free of the destiny they have in store for you. Free to pursue happiness! >

 

Sebet could feel the primal yearning building inside of even the most downtrodden and broken amongst them. She filtered preselected images of Sanctuary and its people through the telepathic connection, showing them the possibilities of their future.

 

< All of this could be yours! > Sebet promised, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she conjured a large stack of neatly annotated Contracts. <All you need to do is make your mark on the dotted line! >