Part 1 –

 

The Maw of the Uboros. An infamous yet ill understood phenomenon that hardly existed beyond the defiled lands of the Boric Region. It consumed the skies over Palvel with an overwhelming presence. A darkness so deep and pulsating with malevolent energy that it devoured the sun and its bountiful rays, replacing it with a gateway that led directly to the Domain of the Uboros.

This was why it felt so alive when one stared too deeply into the Maw; like how the abyss stared back if one looked too deep into its gaze. But the Maw felt all-consuming, scrubbing the mind as it ate away at the sanity of those foolish enough to look up.

Thankfully, if it were not for the existence of the Domain of Realms then the Undead Deities would have undoubtably exerted their authority wherever the Maw consumed, for it was an extension of their mouths, true to its name.

But that was not the only thing that dominated the skies. The black orb that appeared like a fallen black star hovered over the centre of Palvel, ominously humming with a harmonious choir of countless distorted voices, all spoken in an incomprehensible tongue.

If one heeded its words, they would undoubtably be driven insane.

The Undead revelled in the red, manaless Palvel. The soldiers and adventurers that braved on were nowhere near as organised anymore. They were now fractured and stranded in various locations as they fought for their lives in small clusters, isolated by an ocean of chaos. By now the flames of their oiled weapons had been extinguished, leaving them to battle against an immortal enemy in near total darkness.

Had it not been for the golden particles that orbited the giant sphere, alongside the red glow of the blackened skies, [Flares] among [Light] and [Fire] magic would be required just to be able to see.

The Undead grew feral, pouncing on the living with unseen ferocity. Although, while their speed and dexterity were a far cry from the ordinary man, it was still not something anyone would wish to face.

Not now when they were isolated from the brave men who had rallied their hearts on. Most Greater Knights of their own divisions were already slain. The unfortunate ones were paraded as parodies of their former self, puppeted as hideous ministrations of the Undead.

Only fear festered, withering what little courage these displaced individuals retained. With each swing of their weapons a dozen Undead were birthed from the splattered remains. Crushing them to death was no longer effective. Even severed fingers saw new life, some merging with others and becoming crawling balls of digits, seeking nothing but to wriggle their way into the abdomen of a prey.

And they did with agonising success.

An isolated group of ten who managed to take refuge within a ruined structure right as Anoma released the ‘garrison’ order were subject to a horror beyond comprehension. One of these absurdly fast-moving creatures scurried up the leg of a man, emerging from the dark as if birthed from within.

It entered through his clothing, slithering through his plated armour and leather tunic beneath as it squirmed to his abdomen.

He screamed for someone – anyone to save him but no matter how many hands tried to pry away the creature from underneath his wear; their hands only slipped away. His blood only made it all the more difficult as he felt each and every finger of the sea urchin-like monstrosity tug away at his flesh as it buried itself within, finding solace in his abdominal cavity before it began to devour his mana from the inside out.

The gaping hole that was left caused all 10 to shudder once they finally pried away his chest plate. Half had burst into a fit of utter hysteria as they fled from their ‘safe’ haven. The man’s organs squirmed like a rat in a cage before his body inversely folded, his spine joining the squirming fray.

The sight was nothing short of a nightmare. The Undead only moments ago were nowhere near as disgusting as this. Only now did these people realise power of the Undead.

And it was fear.

Their disgusting constructs of necrotic flesh and bone; conjoined and moving in diabolical contortions were a sight that not even a Demon could properly comprehend. These were but a few of the horrors that began to spread as quickly as the surrounding wildfire; a cleansing salvation that many had already thrown themselves into out of fear of becoming whatever these things were.

With hundreds of thousands of Undead swarming amongst the terrain of rubble and burning ruins of Palvel; the tide shifted from a war to pure survival. No longer did they fight in ranks, but instead, sought to take refuge within vacant structures, basements, narrowed streets and on rooftops.

The main streets were a breeding ground for the Undead, who marched endlessly from the centre of Palvel to its furthest corners as if directed by a higher being.

However, there was at least one division which remained intact as far as Haiyoto and Amy were aware of. The two Heroes stood amid the formation of Greater Knights, as Anoma and Ectarod reigned control over their division in the face of absolute chaos.

No matter the newfound strength of the Undead; they could still barely stand against the bulwark that were the Greater Knights. Armed with magic and fire pre-chants, the Undead were vanquished as quickly as they arrived, burnt by lanes of protective fire that easily bought time for them to move onto the next front of combat.

But even someone as ill in combat as Talia could see how unsustainable this method was. With the mana sapped from their very surroundings by the Maw of the Oboros; they needed to rely on their reserves and however many pre-chanted papers they brought.

Basically – they were on a strict timer.

Their goal was but the following:

Find a suitable structure to fortify. Time was not on their side. Amongst them were not just the Greater Knights, but also adventurers and soldiers who were lucky enough to reach them before the Undead could swarm their division from all sides.

Mere minutes had passed since the world fell into disarray. But within this chaos there was order in the form of Anoma and Ectarod’s voice.

“Maintain the wall of fires! Pave forward until we reach that tower at the split! We’ll fortify all entrances and hold our position there!” Anoma commanded, inspiring her brave soldiers who replied with hearty roars.

What laid 200 metres away was a five-way intersection. Each road branched out into a star-shaped pattern, with two moving to the east and west, and the other two towards the north. What miraculously sat in the centre was a massive watchtower, once used by guards to oversee the city beneath. What made it so miraculous was because it somehow remained upright despite the devastating bombardments which had levelled almost all similar structures. Only the top quarter had collapsed into a collected heap underneath where a stable once stood.

While not an ideal, it was the only feasible place to hold out until they could properly gauge the situation. Although, what they could even do afterwards was still in the air even for the Greater Knights, whose immense combat wisdom was dwarfed by the unprecedented situation at hand.

“Do not offer them a single one of our lives!” Ectarod commanded as he brought his flame-imbued great sword to the skies. “We must keep – fighting else our homes will be next!”

Arrows whizzed over the shoulders of comrades, striking the heads of the Undead. The damage caused was minimal at best. However, it stunned them enough to allow the Greater Knights to finish them off in a single fell swoop, crushing them to paste before they were set alight.

“Vermin… Keep pushing onwards to the tower!” Khalis relayed the message of Pathfist’s warrior king from the centre of the formation where a large clearing for those who could not fight was made. It consisted of Khalis, healers, recovery groups, the injured and… the ‘Heroes’.

Haiyoto held onto his blade with immense vice, strangling it as he continued to stare at the remains of the ruined clocktower, unable to lift a finger higher than his waist. Amy remained on her knees, clutching at the ground beneath Haiyoto as she silently wept for Lizen. To see the Heroes in such a ragged state was hardly inspiring for those that weren’t the Greater Knights.

A cold gauntlet found itself on Haiyoto’s shoulder, briefly snapping him from his trance as he looked up into the brown eyes of Khalis.

“Move, Haiyoto. Please pick her up and bring her with you… We cannot stay here any longer.” He spoke begrudgingly, struggling to outright admit Lizen’s death. “Your lives are important… Let’s go. Follow one of the Greater Knights here.”

“… I can fight –”

“You’re not in any state to fight… if you truly were, then you wouldn’t need to tell me you can. Look after Amy. Graggur brother! Look after them in my stead!” Khalis called out to the one-armed Greater Black Knight.

“Anoma specifically tasked you to overwatch them, no?” He refuted, but accepted Khalis’ order, nevertheless. He could tell that the man was as pained as the Heroes were over Airu’s death.

“The battlefield is my calling… and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I couldn’t take out as many of those monsters for her sake. That orb… The beam has settled by now. It’s best to move while we still can before something else appears. Graggur, please do not allow them to die. My hands have already been stained enough.”

“I’ll lose my head before that. Trust me. I’ve already offered my arm for my brothers and sisters.”

“Good… Haiyoto. Amy – Do not leave his side.”

“Urgh… Ok.” Haiyoto nearly threw up as he struggled to speak. Khalis took his leave and ploughed through the line of Greater Knights, swiftly joining with Calin, Anoma and Ectarod at the forefront of battle. “Amy. Stand up. C’mon… here –”

“She’s… she’s –!”

“She’s dead. Let her go and move on.” Graggur spoke unapologetically, cutting her off. “Carry her Hero Haiyoto. If you both have any semblance of self-awareness, then you’ll realise that there are others around you who have lost more than just a single person… Though it does not change the fact that your lives are valued infinitely more than ours by the Gods, and our Kingdom. I’m deeply ashamed we allowed such a tragedy to occur right before our very eyes.”

He was right. Graggur was right, and Haiyoto was the first to accept it. Around him were people who had lost more than them. Suffered more than them. But even so – it did not detract from the pain of losing Lizen.

While others lamented that they had lost a Hero, he and Amy were distraught that they had lost a friend.

“… Why… why – why was she –?” Amy shuddered, the man’s words falling onto dead ears for she could only hear the clash of steel and flesh as if it were thunder.

Haiyoto immediately knelt in front of her, offering his back as she painstakingly crawled aboard.

“… why was she smiling…?” Amy spoke in vibrations against his back as Haiyoto carried her through hell itself, shielded by a ring of selfless martyrs. Though he wore metal armour, he could still feel the dampness created by her tears.

“Amy… please… please don’t think about it.” Haiyoto painfully begged in a begrudging groan. “Sir. Grugger. Is there… any way I can help?”

“To take your mind off Hero Airu’s death?”

“No… I just… I just want to help.”

“Then fight.”

“… what about Amy?”

“Fight.”

“Will you –”

“Fight… why do you need to ask me anything? Do what you believe is correct, Hero. Fight. Inspire us. Make them believe they won’t die horribly here… show us that our sacrifice won’t be for naught.” Gruggur stated, coughing blood in the process.

“… fight…”

“It will always be your choice in the end… you have that freedom as a Hero chosen by our Gods.”

A war waged within Haiyoto’s heart. A dilemma of some sort took a toll on his mind as his steps dragged along, as if he were trudging through mud. After some time as the cacophony of chaos surrounded them, he came to a decision and grit his teeth in soul-crushing regret.

“… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

“It is understandable.” Graggur, despite how cynical and cold he sounded, did not judge him. It was human nature to protect the ones closest to oneself. It was selfish, but also selfless in its own way. A Heroic trait in one hand, and a weakness in the other. “Hasten your pace. Hero Amy – regain your strength. The end of this nightmare is still nowhere in sight… of all people to rely on, many of us were hoping it wouldn’t have to be our Heroes. Oh Gods… I pray the Spirit of Balance hasn’t forsaken us.”

Haiyoto’s resolve waned, made no better by Amy’s helplessness. The Heroes were useless. This was what the countless judging eyes all around them stated. No pity or empathy was spared for the ones who were supposed to protect them… the ones who were supposed to possess overwhelming might to eradicate their foes.

But where the common folk who were the soldiers and volunteers for the fight blamed the Heroes for their incompetence, the Greater Knights who fought alongside Anoma hardly shared similar sentiments. The Heroes were but a single cog in the entirety of this insane machine. Their aid would do little against the true, unknown nature of the foe they faced.

At best it would only prolong their struggles.

But the Greater Knights were not known for defeat. Each swing and torrent of magic they unleashed, countless Undead fell to waste. Their ash remains were quickly trampled on by the boots of nearly a hundred men as soon as the flames quelled, allowing them to progress further towards the tower.

“It’s so beautiful~ To be fighting amid the embrace of flames alongside you again brings me so much joy~!” Calin cried with excitement, rending many Undead to ash with the strike of her [Flame Whip].

Anoma disregarded her disgusting enthusiasm and continued to press on. Each Undead she struck instantly vapourised into necrotic mass, for her blade was imbued with powerful [Light] magic. The Starlight, as her blade had come to be named, possessed a [Sixth Tier] magic called [Night’s Bane]; a magic originating from legendary weaponsmiths of the Boric Region.

Needless to say, this weapon was specifically designed to eradicate the Undead.

“Say, doesn’t this bring you back? Remember when we fought alongside each other in Katho? You never did like fire. Yet here you are~”

“I never liked the flames that burnt down the homes I loved.” Anoma clarified, irritated by Calin’s mouth. “… Never believe in sayings. There is no warmth to be gained from burning down your home. Calin. Open a route forward!”

“One steeeeeep ahead of you!” She exclaimed, unleashing a torrent of flaming whips which paved open a path for the group to push through.

“Watch your mana! We cannot afford to deplete our reserves!” Khalis roared. “Those with oil flasks – toss them to the outer edges! We’re going to make a last push for the entrance!”

“Our only push. Khalis! Break down the door with me. It appears bolstered from here.” Ectarod noted, clearly identifying that the main hard-wooden doors were nailed shut with only a single eye. “Brothers! Sisters! Put your hearts into this push! Do not let a single one of our comrades fall!”

A battle cry surged through their ranks. If their foes were anything other than the Undead, they would have been stunned by the sheer ferocity by their combined voices. Additional cries echoed around them from seemingly random places amongst the ruins and rubble, but they were cut short almost as quickly as they were heard.

Graggur cursed beneath his breath. Only Haiyoto understood the origin of those cries and wore a look of disgust as a result.

“Did… Anoma know?” He felt compelled to ask.

“We can only pray she didn’t…” Graggur groaned. “Curses. Keep moving Heroes! We are almost there!”

* * *

The base of the tower was at least fifty metres wide. It was staggering just how large the structure was as they approached its base. Equally as baffling as its size were the set of doors that defended it. They were bolstered from what appeared to be the inside, with jagged nails protruding through like needles.

Undead impaled themselves along these as they futilely banged against the wooden doors, crushing their limbs and brittle bones. The sight was far from peculiar to most. However – Ectarod was the first to notice the disparity of this and held it close to his heart.

Who were hiding inside? They were obviously alive given that the Undead wished to enter. However – what concerned him the most was that there was no feasible way that his soldiers or anyone from their divisions could have reached that tower with the sheer number of Undead that flooded the streets.

The question rung inside his head again like a ghostly bell, prompting him to glance over at Anoma who paid no heed or regard to the disparity.

Of all people – She would have been the first to notice.

Ectarod swallowed his tongue for the moment and raised his sword and bludgeoning war banner to the darkened skies and roared:

“Toss your oil flasks along the sides! Ignite them when I give the word! Mages – keep the walls of fire up! Everyone defending our rear get ready to flood in! Those of us in the front – Defend the entrance as soon as everyone enters!”

His command was acknowledged in the form of countless shouts. Oil flask with unlit cloth flew over the visors of many, landing within the Undead swarm from either side. Those that possessed more strength threw them further along, although not all made it to the side.

The fear that the Undead exuded made it notoriously difficult for most to even hold their flasks in the first place. Expecting them to throw them with such accuracy and strength was foolish at best. After all, not everyone present were as mentally refined as the Greater Knights. Most of those who possessed flasks in the first place were the adventurers and standard soldiers, all of which who had little to no experience with war – let alone the Undead.

… And dare anyone mention the calamity that unfolded around them.

The mages struggled to maintain their walls of fire. Beads of sweat flooded through every pore in the body. Not by the flames, but rather, from the effort that was required to keep them active.

What they utilised was a [Third Tiered] magic called [Flaming Shield]. Due to the nature of [Third Tiered] magic, and consequently any magic that was lower than the [Seventh Tier] – the Maw of the Oboros devoured it as if it were nothing more than external mana, ripe for the picking.

In fact, every magic user suffered similarly. Calin was also no exception. After only half an hour after the world turned dark, she had already extinguished a quarter of her mana reserves.

Some were already teetering on the edge of a depletion. For most humans, internal mana was not a plentiful resource. This was why chants were so important for them. But what good would it do if there was no external mana to draw from?

This was but one of the hideous plethora of reasons why the Boric Region was so dangerous for those ill versed with the Undead. An additional danger was that upon mana depletion the Maw of the Oboros had the potential to begin digesting the living flesh of those afflicted, slowly turning them into the Undead in perhaps one of the most agonising processes known to man.

This process was called ‘Undying’.

That aside – After short minutes the rear guard were primed to abandon their stead and follow the group straight into the tower. Around 15 brilliant Greater Knights annihilated the foul beasts as they waited for Ectarod’s immediate orders. With the tower now but 20 metres away – their lives depended entirely on the success of everyone else.

However – as Ectarod gave his command – something happened at the back.

A tragedy that none were able to foresee.

“… where did…?” Someone whispered as blood splattered across their face.

“All of them at once!?”

“They were just… M-Move! MOVE!”

“GET INTO THE TOWER!” Ectarod roared like it was his last.

The heads of all 15 of the rear guard disappeared before their very eyes. A powerful gust of air paved through, knocking many of the non-combatants in the centre of the group off their feet as the oil flasks caught alight. A blaze of spontaneous flames erupted all around them as hysteria engulfed them all. Those who had fallen were left behind and dragged into the grinding maws of the Undead, screaming endlessly as Haiyoto watched them reach out for him in desperation.

Gruggur clasped onto his arm and towed him away, easily overpowering them young man as he stared back with widened eyes, unable to remove them from the eyes that begged to be saved.

The flames bellowed as another gust of air rampaged through, throwing it into the division as Ectarod and Khalis managed to smash the door apart, allowing all to flood through like an army of cockroaches. The Greater Knights remained at the front to defend it until all managed to enter. As Gruggur threw Haiyoto and Amy inside, and as they landed on a bale of hay alongside… children? –

– The ill-thrown flasks caught alight and incinerated another 20 valuable people. They were mostly none-combatants and the injured who had managed to escape the collapsed rear end. The sight of screaming men and women, wailing as they burnt was enough to cause Amy to black out entirely.

“Seal it shut! Brothers – Sisters – Hold the entrance with everything you have!” Khalis cried out at the top of his lungs as he joined the fray, using his body, magic, and weapon to prevent the Undead from pouring through what was a gaping 4-metre entrance.

“““AYE!”””

“Raise your flame walls! We can keep the Undead at bay for as long as we need if this is their only means of entering!” Calin ordered, already creating one ahead which, as expected, eased the number of Undead that attempted to flood through.

Their bodies seemingly collapsed the moment they passed through the barrier of flames, laying in heaps at the mouth of the entrance. Thankfully, the entire construction of the tower was of well-masoned stone. The only flammable material were the wooden doors that sprawled as countless splinters beneath them.

[Fire Balls], [Flaming Shields], [Fire Strike] and many more fire-based magic were focused on the brickwork just beyond the entrance. The Greater Knights momentarily stepped aside to allow them to whiz by and strike into the hearts of the Undead horde.

“HURRY!” A woman shrieked.

As their shrivelled bodies and tissue beyond decay began to pile at the entrance, they quickly created a natural blockade that prevented the Undead from advancing almost entirely. In only a minute the screams of chaos beyond became muffled shouts. The Greater Knights took a sigh of relief as they realised that the Undead could progress no further.

“Is – is it sealed?” Someone asked in a panicked voice. “Are we safe now? Shit… we’re alive.”

“It seems so. Don’t let your guard down… the Undead will try to break through with whatever means they have…” Khalis trailed off as he panned his gaze around the vast room that seemed to be an eatery of some sort. Tables and hay bales laid scattered almost haphazardly about, some even blockading the entrance to the proceeding floors.

The reason why he trailed off was not due to relief. Rather, it was shock.

“What – Who -Who are you all!? Did you come here to save us!?” A woman dressed in… rather casual wear, albeit torn and burnt, asked as she tugged on the sleeve of a Greater Knight.

“Saviours!?” Another exclaimed, utterly relieved as he embraced who seemed to be his wife. “Did you all come here to rescue us!?”

“… we’re being saved!? Us?”

Why did they sound so shocked? Khalis could only imagine the reason as he recalled the sacrificial manner of Di-Lock’s envoy that had declared war on them. The soldiers of Di-Lock were beyond deranged, as if brainwashed to believe that their deaths would bring them to their promised paradise.

It would not be a surprise if they were in some way connected to the Undead.

However, the more glaring reason for their shock was the fact that they had arrived like holy warriors offering a hand amid their darkest night. Innocent people waiting for someone to pull them out of this nightmare.

And this was where Khalis, Ectarod, Calin – and everyone else found themselves utterly speechless. Like an invisible force had strangled them all simultaneously as tension built as quickly as their breaths filled the room with heat.

It was because there were others here.

People adorned in normal clothing.

It immediately became apparent to everyone who these people exactly were, as the wails of children and women emerged all around them.

There were at least another hundred inside the tower, including those that took refuge in the upper floors. They peered through their hastily made barricades of furniture with wary eyes, questioning the intentions of these heavily armed men.

These were the citizens of Palvel.

The people who were supposedly already killed by the Undead.

And suddenly – all eyes fell onto Anoma.