Chapter 157

Army of the Dead (III)

The countdown ticked down to 0, prompting heavy silence to emerge; it lasted but for a moment, however, as Lek snapped his eyes open and pulled his lips away from the flute. Right after, a silvery sheen coated him whole, making him seem regal even whilst wearing a beggar’s clothes.

“My army... arise...” he mumbled softly into the air and, as though his voice carried the order, the soil shook and ruptured, three rotting corpses emerging. Two of the three wielded a sword while the last had a bow, but, aside from that, their appearances were nigh identical.

Almost as soon as the corpses arose, six lanterns appeared at the edges of the room; they looked old and worn out, the kindled fire inside of them oblique green, still roaring.

“Tanks, pick up the corpses, kill them quickly!” Emma shouted the order as she charged forward, followed right after by Kramer and Lukas; Belric remained behind as a safeguard.

The hall was immediately lit up by an array of attacks that landed squarely on the undead; though their defenses were rather soft, they had considerable Health -- 35,000 each.

Diya immediately calculated that, unless the party burned their important cooldowns, they would be unable to down all three of the corpses within 13 seconds.

“Focus on the two!” she called out. “Make sure at least two are dead before the next three spawn!”

Senna stood the closest to the corpses outside of the melee attackers, playing with her new items; she herself had summoned thirty weapons, splitting them into offensive and utility ones, forgoing defense, while her 'Shard of Warmaster' had summoned an extra three that were repeatedly belting against the corpses. She weaved the weapons expertly, her attack speed increasing as the battle continued, and the 'Catalyzed' weapon truly did a number on one of the corpses. On the other hand, three shields that she had summoned were continuously channeling the beam of soft, silvery light at the other corpse, striking it down.

The party managed to down two corpses within 11 seconds, leaving the remaining two for Daniel to quickly pick up the dropped cores and shuffle them over to the lanterns by vanishing into the shadows and drawing back immediately. By the time he returned, three more corpses emerged from the ground.

"I'll burn the first cooldown!" Senna called out, abruptly summoning thirty more weapons, totaling sixty, in addition to using 'Aerial Onslaught'; the entire battlefield was quickly swarmed by the sounds of the metals clashing, shimmers of the weapons blinding. A shower of swords, axes, poles, spears, and maces fell from the sky on top of the four corpses, slowing them down considerably and dealing nearly 40% of their Vitality each in one fell swoop.

The rest of the party quickly followed out, with Ryu conjuring up an quadra-attuned spell, summoning a serpent of fire that arched over from him and toward the corpses, ‘swallowing’ them. Jamal charged his blade with Starlight, milky-white tendrils echoing, as he swept it several times rapidly, opening up countless new wounds on the already decomposing bodies.

Daniel’s unrelenting barrage of attacks resulted in him summoning a ‘Blood Spirit’ by his side, a crimson-dyed avatar of himself, that replicated his attacks. All four corpses were felled within 10 seconds, prompting Daniel to once again pick up the four cores and drag them over to the lanterns.

Just then, Lek grunted and raised his finger, tipping it forward; the room shook for a moment as a vortex appeared above the very center, spitting out a twenty-feet tall hunk of stone filled with runic carvings.

“The dead... deserve the respect...” every member of the party suddenly felt as though there was a heavy bag on their backs, slowing them down and slowly grinding their bones. Right then, three more corpses shuffled out of the ground, prompting the party to once again focus on the two instead of three.

Daniel’s passive leech came in handy as it allowed healers to conserve their Mana still since his damage kept almost every other melee attacker topped-off permanently. Furthermore, shields rained upon the party, courtesy of Diya, as she slowly charged ‘Soullight’, but making sure she didn’t hit 60 stacks yet as she was saving it for the right moment.

The other healers, too, had to get a bit busier while the Mausoleum was active as it dealt 150 damage per second, three of which would effectively kill several members of their party if not healed through. Even still, the first phase continued to go well as the party began nearing the 40 cores mark that was necessary to drop Lek's immunity without any big hiccups just yet.

**

Cain stood beneath the City of Mirrors, his expression slightly furrowed; next to him, Ernie stood as well, though appeared beyond jittery and excited, his eyes alight with the shine that was beyond difficult to describe.

“Get ready,” Cain said. “You’ll get a bit queasy.”

“What--” before Ernie could ask what Cain was talking about, he felt a pull that ripped directly into his soul dragging him upward. He tried to cry out in panic but found that his throat was closed as his vision began to blur.

An eternity seemed to pass before he could breathe and open his eyes again; when he did, he found himself lying flat on the cracked and dirty floor, a rat the size of a grown man’s thigh staring at him with a tilted head. He screeched and leaped up, backing away slightly and suddenly hearing laughter. Glancing to the side, he saw Cain calmly standing, looking at him with a peculiar expression.

“Relax man,” he said. “It’s just a Queeser. You’ll likely not find a creature as harmless as that one, no matter how hard you look.”

“...” Ernie wanted to offer a rebuke -- it was a massive rat, that shouldn’t matter! -- but held back as he knew it would lead to even more jokes on his account.

“Welcome back, Thief,” a raspy voice caused Ernie to once again yelp, but quickly stiffen his fear despite seeing an apparition cloaked in gray appear from seemingly nowhere. The apparition ignored him completely, focusing on Cain. “Did you rest well?”

“I did,” Cain replied, smiling faintly. “But I’ve grown bored of the artisan's life. It is time to get back into action. Before that, can you tell me where the others are? I’d like to see how they’re doing.”

“They’re on a Quest at the moment, I’m afraid.” the Shopkeeper replied.

"A quest? Ha ha, those idiots really never rest; what Quest? Is it the Queen's Gambit? No, no, wait, I told them to gather materials -- so, it's Jet's Stash? Man, it's a real pain in the ass to find that satchel.”

“No.”

“Oh? Which one, then?”

“Moru'gh.” the Shopkeeper said. Cain stood confused for a moment before a bag of memories surged into his mind, his blood freezing.

“... did... did you--did you send them to the Underworld?”

“They are entirely safe.”

“Safe?” Cain chuckled eerily. “Safe? Safe?!!”

“Rest assured--they are fully qualified for the Quest. I wouldn’t have sent them otherwise--”

“YOU?!! YOU SENT THEM?!!” Cain roared abruptly, leaning forward and grabbing the Shopkeeper’s collar. Ernie stepped back in horror, a visage of the masked man standing aloof amidst the flame appearing in front of his eyes. “WHEN?!! TELL ME WHEN?!”

“... just after you left.”

“...” Cain’s gaze chilled as it bore down onto the Shopkeeper who continued looking back at him indifferently, the yellow-tinted eyes seemingly void of emotion. “Open the portal.”

“You cannot help them; rather, you needn’t help--”

“Open the portal. Directly to them.”

“You should instead focus on--”

“OPEN THE FUCKING PORTAL!!” Cain yanked his arm back and then tossed the Shopkeeper forward within a blur, slamming the apparition directly through the wall of the city and tossing him in an arc over the lakes below. Wings of fire sprung behind Cain’s back as he flashed forward, quickly catching up to the fast-moving silhouette in the air, grabbing him once again.

“I shall forgive you for this transgression,” the Shopkeeper said, his voice cooling slightly. “But if you attack me again, I won’t be as kind.”

“You have three seconds to open the portal,” Cain said as Mana began turning berserk around him. “Or I will rip your soul and open it myself.”

“... you need to let them fly.”

"You didn't send them to fly," Cain replied in a chilly tone. "You sent them to die. And I promise you this, you old bag of bugs -- if even a single one of them dies," he added. "I will not only kill you, but I will also eradicate your entire fucking race from existence and burn your names from the history books."

“That is far--”

“As a warning,” Cain mumbled as he suddenly placed his palm onto the Shopkeeper’s chest. “Spell Creation -- ‘Soul-link’”

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE!!”

“Soul-link--permanent,” Cain added swiftly as a tinge of Mana sipped from his palm and entered the Shopkeeper just before the latter managed to rip himself free.

“UNDO THE CURSE, YOU DAMNED THIEF!! UNDO IT AT ONCE!! OR BOTH YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS SHALL BURN IN FIRES ETERNAL!!”

“... I’ve just wasted a precious slot on a worthless skill,” Cain mumbled, the wings of fire behind him roaring, as though replicating his anger. “And I’m about to waste more of them. When I return, you will absolve me. And, as I said, if anyone died... then I will kill you. Spell Creation--” Cain mumbled again as a storm of Mana erupted around him, startling both everyone within the city -- regardless of which strata they belonged to -- as well as those standing on the lake. “Voidrip; Pertinence of Infinity; Soul Prism; Agent of the Dead; Ardent Savior; Stellar Beacon; Mana Infinity; Bestowed Inferno--" the more names he whispered into the void, the storm raged further until his figure was but a speck of white light amidst the storms of Mana that shredded whatever they touched, forcing even the Shopkeeper to draw back, aghast. He'd realized... he'd underestimated the Thief severely.

“Better pray, the last dreg of Chaos,” Cain’s voice became deep and choral, echoing like thunder across the entire floor. “That I reach them in time. Better pray...”

Right after, Cain slammed his fists together and used ‘Voidrip’, the first of the Skills he just created -- a surge of Mana in the shape of a transparent, twilight-dyed blade burned from him, good two-hundred-feet in size, and sliced across the nothing. A moment later, a massive gash appeared in front of him, like the gates to an entirely new world -- beyond, he saw stretches of infinite flatland and gritted his teeth. Too weak... shit, if I land in a bad spot in Limbo, I’ll be stuck for years. FUCK... whatever. Hold on everyone. Please... just... hold on...

His thoughts remained adrift in infinity as his figure, as well as the storm of Mana he created, vanished through the gash, the latter closing down immediately as though it barely held on for that long. The world cooled and calmed in a second after, leaving hundreds of thousands of souls aghast and wondering what demon had awoken this time.