“With the name came knowledge of a ritual. I had sent my prayers into the Aether, and they were answered. I would finally have the power I needed to have my revenge. Aachen will be mine!”

Chapter 71

With the realization that this entire battle was simply a trap designed to lure the mindless and frenzied undead, Wil saw the conflict in a new way. He was confident that the wards could have held longer than they had.

He was sure the living defenders could have counterattacked multiple times, rather than allowing the undead to force their way on top of the fortification. The mages were holding back, Wil knew they were still capable of causing massive damage, but they seemed to be waiting and holding back.

Even the clerics seemed to be focusing on providing their divine magics to a task other than powering the wards. He could feel the Mana the Altars were supplying.

To his eyes, each burned as bright as a star in the Night sky. Only a fraction of that power made it to the wards, the rest traveled to the old priestess along lines of power, gathering in the Sun Symbol she gripped in her hands.

This entire conflict made the defenders look weak and ineffectual, to the point where Wil was surprised the defenses held for the years since Aachen fell. If this was the only defense the living could offer, the Empire would have been lost.

But when viewed through a different lens, this entire exercise was simply a way to draw the undead forces close to the divine wards before unleashing their power. It seemed rather brilliant. A long, drawn-out battle over an entire Night would favor the undead.

With their vast numbers, the undead could sustain heavy losses and still overwhelm the living. They also didn’t require sleep or supplies and held no fear of causalities. They were the perfect army for a protracted war.

The living needed a quick battle and decisive battle. They needed to annihilate their enemy before they became exhausted and were swarmed by their opponents’ massive numbers.

The plan seemed simple, as Wil pieced together. Lure the enemy within the wards, channeled a vast amount of divine power into them and turn the undead to ash with the goddesses’ holy magic, cast by her most capable clerics.

Wil had heard of clerics destroying dozens, even hundreds of undead with their holy symbols and their enduring faith. He could easily imagine the result of hundreds of clerics focusing their power to one high ranking cleric. Their magic would clear every undead on the wall, and a large portion of Aachen as well.

This was a tactic that could only work against an unthinking and mindless enemy. Wil was positive that the legion used this very same method every Night, and the undead lacked the memory or tactical understanding to recognize the threat. It was as if this Night had repeated itself over and over again in the years this conflict has been ongoing.

He had once heard a myth when he was at the academy, about a mage who had been reliving the same day for centuries. He was caught in some kind of endless cycle, a curse that forced him to try and fix the worst day of his life. His own personal living hell, 24 hours of life repeated for eternity.

The mage would die at the end of each loop, only to wake up alive at the start again. It eventually drove him insane, but with a power that could rival the gods.

This battle was similar, in Wil’s opinion. A war fought in the same way every month against an enemy that would never remember the tactics used. Whose death would not matter in the long run. They would rise the next Night, ready to fight again.

No wonder Garman had said that the fighting would be the most intense for the first few hours. Wil expected that a large portion of the undead would be destroyed once the trap was sprung.

Even now, Wil could see that most of the fighting around him was incredibly defensive. The living fought behind shields of Mana, the mages having forgone the use of offensive magic after their initial barrage.

The high ranked warriors formed ranks in a tightly packed shield-wall, with silver tipped spears and enchanted arrows driving the undead back, preventing the walls from being completely overrun, but allowing the undead to congregate around the wards.

From the look of the fighting on the walls, and the sounds of battle at the battered gates below, a majority of the higher ranked undead were within range of whatever divine power the priestess would soon unleash.

From behind his shield of mana, Wil could see the power building around the distant priestess.

The faint blue glow was becoming brighter and deepening to brilliant azure. The wards on the grey stone below his feet were responding to her power, and he could almost see her leech whatever Mana remained from the barrier in front of them.

The flying undead could now easily pierce the barricade and thousands of ghouls were fighting on the walls. They were almost overwhelming the human defenders with sheer numbers. The casualties to the living were mounting, and Wil prayed to the Suns that whatever the priestess was going to do, she did it soon.

“How much longer?” Wil shouted to his mage companion standing next to him. He was forced to shout over the din of the conflict around them. The screams and howls were growing louder as more undead assaulted them. Wil could barely hear himself over the cacophony of noise.

The mage turned to look at him, lifting an eyebrow quizzically. He yelled even louder as he repeated the question to her, nodding towards the distant priestess.

“Soon!” She said, before lifting her hand to fire a trio of magic missiles into the horde of undead. She saved one of their fellow auxiliaries from a gruesome death at the hands of a Ghoul’s mauling. Freed from the Ghoul’s attack, the man leapt back to his feet with a quick nod of thanks before dashing back into the melee.

“Any minute now! Can’t you feel it building?” She asked as her magic barrier flared to life again.

He could, now that she mentioned it. The walls were faintly thrumming with power, growing stronger every second. Even through his thick soled leather boots, he could feel the power in the stones below him.

The wall vibrated all around him, like a faint tickle on his feet.

The glow around the priestess built until it was a blinding radiance that could rival the blue sun itself, but it was only visible to his mana sensing vision. To a casual observer, it appeared as a shimmering light, with flashes of static electricity arching from it.

Even from this distance, Wil could smell the overpowering stink of ozone from the large concentration of Mana. It even overpowered the fetid stink of decaying flesh the undead carried with them.

The thrumming soon became so strong that his shield flickered and dimmed in time with its vibration. The clerics prayers became louder, they were shouting their prayers to the goddess as they kneeled around the altar.

The undead became even more frenzied as the divine power built. To Wil, it seemed that they instinctually knew of the approaching threat, and they were seeking to end it. All along the wall, the ghouls snarled and leapt towards the living, flailing widely with their claws.

The slightest scratch from their infected nails caused agonizing pain to the living, allowing the Ghouls to feast on the still living flesh of their victims.

Following some unheard command, the flying undead monstrosities hovered in the air over the defenders, flapping their wings fiercely as the screeched.

One lingered just overhead of where Wil was standing, and Garman must have recognized the threat. He yelled loudly and pointed at the flying creature.

“Bring it down! Now, before it bursts!” He ordered, gesturing to the nearby auxiliary mages and archers. Arrows flew to the sky and struck the undead. The bird screeched at the attack and the silver tipped arrows pin cushioning its body.

Wil and his mage companion both lifted their hands in the air, palms facing the monstrosity. He forced his mana into the spell matrix that hovered in front of his hand. It glowed brightly, forming the Tier 1 magic missile spell. Next to him, his mage companion did the same.

With a loud, double cracking noise, the spells formed, and six bolts of pure energy flew through the night sky, smashing into the undead bird. It was knocked backwards from the attack, hitting the remaining wards that formed the protective dome.

The bird slid downwards along the dome, trying to right itself. As it struggled, it swelled like a balloon until it was comically round. It flapped its wings ineffectually in an attempt to regain its former height above them, but it couldn’t with its new shape.

Wil smiled morbidly at the display, but Garman’s next order wiped the smirk from his face.

“Cover! It’s about to burst!” The man ordered, ducking back behind his large shield.

Wil whipped his head back to look at the bird just as he heard a loud ‘POP’ and the massive undead creature exploded in a rain of blood and gore.