A/N: Back into the fight!

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They quickly figure out that the situation in Zuveria has become quite dire, despite them only being away for less than a week. The nature of Foss Sangrey’s undead forces, his partially successful decapitation strike on the Empire’s leadership, and the danger at their border with the Savage Lands tying up their armies all worked together to make for very favorable circumstances for the self-titled Supreme King.

Knight-Superior Dawnguard had marshalled what forces the Order of the Rose had still at the Citadel into a working army and had sallied forth to meet the greatest concentration of the Supreme King’s army, but Foss Sangrey wasn’t content with playing things by the book or even remotely fair. And his army, as it turned out, wasn’t measured in the thousands… but in the tens of thousands.

As such, groups of hundreds of undead summoned heroes were sweeping across the Zuverian Empire, attacking and destroying everything from hamlets to towns to villages, putting homes to the torch and forcing the peasantry and noncombatants to flee before their relentless assault.

The only positive from the whole mess seemed to be that he was letting most of those civilians live so long as they actually ran away… but Avina was quick to explain this was almost certainly because they would eventually make their way to Zuveria’s cities, overwhelming them with a refugee crisis that would destroy moral and wreck supply stores in the days and weeks before the Supreme King’s armies reached said cities as well.

So… basically, even that show of mercy was Foss Sangrey being an evil, manipulative, monstrous prick. Mikael really shouldn’t have been surprised.

Fortunately, there was one thing the Supreme King wasn’t counting on. Them. With Bula’s connection to Syl refined into something far less one-sided and based on slavery, she could effectively reach out to the thousands of Children that they’d brought out of the Sylian Woods with them and communicate with them all instantaneously.

It sounded like a hivemind to Mikael, but Bula didn’t know what that was so he couldn’t really say for sure. Regardless, at Mikael and Avina’s urging, Bula had some of their forces peel off from time to time as they moved with lightning speed across the Empire. The Children of Syl they had to send off to fight Foss’ pockets of undead raiders were technically unsupervised, but it wasn’t like the three of them had much of a choice. In the end, they had orders to kill only that which was already dead but still moving, and to leave any living they found alive and well.

Meanwhile, the vast majority of the Children stayed with him, Avina, and Bula as they raced to the frontlines. Fortunately, they were able to make good time. Unfortunately, this was because the undead army had already pushed deep into Zuverian territory. They weren’t quite to the Citadel itself yet, but they were about halfway there and engaging in constant skirmishes with the Order of the Rose.

In fact, when they finally arrived, it was to see that the Knights of the Rose were in the midst of pitched combat. With enhanced eyesight, Mikael was able to see exhaustion on exposed, dirty faces, and golden armor no longer gleaming under the amount of mud and blood coating it. The Order of the Rose was clearly being pushed back by the moment, and perhaps almost nearing a full rout.

“We need to get in there. Avina, can you try to find the Order of the Rose’s command tent and see if the Knight-Superior and Thayla are alright? It’s possible they’re in the battle itself… if they are, just let whoever you can find know that the beasts are on their side.”

The Soul Mechanic nods sharply from atop her mount. Mikael gives her a smile and then looks to Bula.

“Bula… ready?”

The half-orc warrior flashes him a wide and wicked grin as she hefts her battle-axe high above her head.

“Hah! Ready?! I’ve been ready since we first saw them crest over the horizon back in Alether! This battle has been a long time coming, Mikael!”

Chuckling ruefully, Mikael shakes his head. She’s not wrong… but this is the first time he feels confident in their ability to actually put a dent in Foss’ forces.

“CHARGE!”

Bula roars out the order, even though they both know she doesn’t actually need to speak aloud to communicate with the Children. Still, the effect is something straight out of legend. Even as Avina and her Child of Syl break off to move behind Zuverian Lines and find whoever’s in charge here, the bulk of the army that the Forest God has sent with them begins to surge forward, with Mikael and Bula both astride their own monstrous house-sized ‘mounts’ at the front of the pack.

As the Children of Syl flow towards the battlefield, Mikael notes the way the two very different sides react to their arrival. On the one hand, the Order of the Rose looks shocked as all hell, individual reactions the name of the game from the look of things. On the other hand, Foss Sangrey’s army doesn’t have an ounce of individuality to it. In the end, the army is made up of a bunch of undead puppets under the vile necromancer’s nominal control.

He also clearly has some form of sense-sharing with his army, because there’s no element of surprise here. A portion of the undead army turns in unison to set themselves in Mikael and Bula’s path, preparing to meet the charge. In Mikael’s mind, that can only mean that the small groups of Children that they had break off along their rush to get here had already met with some success and had encounters with the groups of undead soldiers they’d felt along the way. Foss Sangrey had known they were coming… he just didn’t seem to care.

He should have. He really should have. Because even as his forces turn to face the Children’s charge, the great big hulking natives of the Sylian Woods reach the line… and barrel right on through it like it’s not even there. Swords, spears, and all sorts of gleaming glowing weapons are brought to bear… to practically no avail.

The Children of Syl rip through the undead army’s initial defensive line with ease, and Mikael shares a savage grin with Bula as they find themselves in the thick of it instantly. This right here… this is what Timothal Dawnguard was hoping for.

Speaking of which… a look at the Order of the Rose’s forces shows indecision and shock on their faces. Avina will find someone and let them know what’s going on eventually, but it won’t be nearly fast enough, Mikael realizes. Right now, the arrival of all these monsters straight out of legends and horror stories told around campfires late at night… it was honestly doing more damage to the Knights’ morale than it was Foss’ forces. Mostly because the army of the dead didn’t HAVE its own morale, but also because in all the chaos, it didn’t really seem clear who’s side the army of literal monsters were actually on.

Well that just wouldn’t do. Mikael thinks for a moment before coming up with a solution. Lifting his sword high over his head, he coats it with his distinctive teal energy. He grows the sword larger and larger in size, until its one big beam of glowing teal light shining over the battlefield. He’s got a lot of eyes on him by the time he’s done, and once he’s sure everyone is looking his way, he feeds some of his magic into his vocal cords.

Foss Sangrey wasn’t the only one who could enhance his voice to be heard across a wide area, after all. This battlefield might not be the size of a city… but that just meant it was easier to make sure everyone heard him in the end.

“FOR THE ROSE! FOR ZUVERIA! REMEMBER THE EMPEROR!”

It was the best he could come up with on short notice. Maybe not the deepest or most meaningful battle cry, but hey… if it worked, then it worked. And boy did it work. Hearing those words from a man wielding a massive teal sword from the back of one of the Children of Syl definitely did the trick. Mikael watches with a grin on his face as the Order of the Rose rallies in real time, their eyes lighting up with renewed vigor and fresh fervor, their sword arms raising and their shields lifting from the ground.

“For Zuveria!”

“For the Order!”

“Remember the Emperor!”

With that, a rudimentary understanding of who’s on who’s side here is established. They might not be fighting side by side with each other, but at least the Order knows not to attack the Children… and with Bula leading them, the Children are very, VERY focused on tearing every undead they can get their claws on to shreds.

Unfortunately, shreds is just about what has to happen for one of Foss Sangrey’s warriors to be put down permanently. Mikael’s lips slowly thin out from the wide grin they’d been pulled back into as he observes the battle developing from there. Swinging his elongated blade around in large slices, he’s able to remove heads from necks, arms from torsos, and even separate multiple enemies at the waist.

However, even removing the head doesn’t seem to end the magic this time around. That doesn’t make sense given their experiences back at the Citadel… unless one assumes that distance between the Necromancer and their creations is actually a factor in their long-term viability.

As headless, armless, and even legless undead continue fighting until every single method with which they can swing a sword or wield a dagger is removed, Mikael’s eyes sweep across the battlefield… and up onto hill far in the distance behind the enemy’s lines. There, seeming almost innocuous, is a small tent of all things. A tent… for an army of undead. An army that needed no food, water, or rest to continue moving and fighting. And in that tent… the flicker of a soul. In a place where there are plenty of moving bodies, but not a soul in sight.

Could it be? If there’s even the smallest chance… Mikael figures he has to take it.

“Bula! I’m going for the tent! Keep fighting! Make sure the Order of the Rose doesn’t get overwhelmed!”

“Grrr! Fine, but if you die I will have the little one bring you back again so I can kill you myself!”

Mikael just tosses the half-orc warrior a grin and a nod before leaping off of the back of his mount. Except, he doesn’t hit the ground. Instead, his feet hit shimmering panels of solid teal energy forming one after the other as he sprints high over the heads of the forces battling below. He has full faith that even with their insane durability, the undead will eventually be demolished by the Children of Syl so long as nothing changes.

But that’s just it. If Foss Sangrey knew that they were coming, that meant he’s had time to consider countermeasures. And that… that, Mikael can’t allow. More than that, if the undead are moving better because of their proximity to their creator, which meant Foss was here at this battle. And that meant Mikael could end this all by killing the bastard right this moment.

There was a small part of him that wondered if he should have retrieved Avina first. This was her revenge after all. But… his Soul Mechanic wasn’t a fighter. And ultimately, he was her greatest creation. Foss dying at his hands was the same as Avina doing the deed herself, he figured. But most of all… Mikael knew Avina wouldn’t begrudge him ending this here and now if he could. Foss Sangrey was a monster that needed to be put down once and for all.

Racing across the sky on a path made of his own magic, Mikael comes to land atop the hill in front of the tent. He’s not at all surprised when two undead soldiers with swords dripping in malicious green energy come out from behind the tent’s sides and attack him. Even if he couldn’t sense them on approach, it only made sense that the tent would be defended.

This time around, Mikael is more than ready for them. He’s gorged himself, first on a handful of Children of Syl, and then on hundreds of elven warriors. Those sickly green swords, while able to eat through his magic like no one’s business, don’t even manage to touch him OR the teal energy that whips out and rips through their wielders. The undead soldiers are torn limb from limb into multiple body parts in an instant, with Mikael not even pausing his stride as he makes his way to the tent.

“Grahka Illrau Navrak Slanu! Ravah Slikah Vilcresh Sanark!”

He’s not surprised to see someone clearly unlike the undead soldiers fighting down below the hill within the tent. He IS surprised, however, to see the cloaked figure hunched over a swirling ball of black energy in a ritual basin. The fact that the Supreme King hasn’t stopped even though he must be aware of Mikael’s presence… well, it confirms his worst fears.

Whatever that black energy is, it’s almost certainly some sort of spell or ritual that will turn the battle back in Foss Sangrey’s favor. And for him to be continuing chanting even in Mikael’s presence… perhaps it was already too late. Perhaps it would be better to turn and run, to try and warn someone of whatever was about to happen. Perhaps…

Nah, fuck that. Gritting his teeth, Mikael calls upon his magic once more. He fills the interior of the tent with teal light and lashes out at the ball of black energy with all his might.

“FOSS! I don’t know what you’re trying… but GO FUCK YOURSELF!”

Maybe not his best line, but Mikael felt like Bula would have been proud if nothing else. Regardless, he grabs onto the black ball of energy with his magic and is almost immediately pulled off his feet towards the damn thing. All the while, the cloaked Supreme King continues his chanting.

“Grahka Illrau Navrak Slanu! Ravah Slikah Vilcresh Sanark!”

Same exact shit. But building in tempo and speed with every repetition. Mikael might not know what it meant, but he knew it couldn’t be good. Anchoring himself to the ground with more of his magic in order to avoid being sucked in, Mikael nevertheless pushes forward with the teal tendrils he’s wrapping around the black ball. He grabs at it with all his magical might, slipping through cracks that tug at him, almost like they’re tugging at his very soul.

And indeed, that might be exactly what’s happening. Mikael doesn’t know… nor does he care. One thing is for sure though… Foss had to be sloppy. Whatever this ritual is supposed to be, Mikael suspects it’s the kind of thing one casts over the course of days, if not weeks. Unfortunately for Foss, he only got warning of their imminent arrival a few hours ago with how fast they moved.

It’s very obvious that he’s rushed this spell… and while Mikael might not know what the bastard is trying to do exactly, he knows one thing for sure.

“Hey, Foss! What happens if I do THIS?!”

With that last word, Mikael twists every tendril of teal energy he has on the outside and inside of the ball of black energy… in the opposite direction that the black magic is swirling. In the blink of an eye, Foss stops his chanting mid-word.

“Grahka Illrau Navrak- NO!”

The black ball implodes and the backlash sends them both flying backwards out of the tent and onto the open ground of the hill overlooking the battle. Mikael wishes he could say he recovers first, but irritatingly enough, they both wind up pulling themselves off of the ground and onto their feet at the same time.

Gritting his teeth, Mikael sheathes his sword in a fresh layer of teal energy, even as he gets ready to end things with the self-titled Supreme King. However, he finds himself stopping dead in his tracks when his opponent pulls back his hood and he discovers it’s not Foss Sangrey at all staring back at him.

Motherfucking Zadicus Quinn, complete with that shitty little cheek scar under his eye, stares back at Mikael. That shouldn’t be possible. Mikael hadn’t just pulped the bastard’s face and skull; he’d eaten his damn SOUL.

What the fuck was going on?!

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A/N: Hmmm, what do you guys think is going on? *thinking pose*

Be sure to let me know what you think!