Chapter 210 - Hammers and Anvils (Patreon)

“This is a mistake,” said Talia, following Carlos through the tunnels of the Nest. She had a decent idea of the layout, but the former assassin had spent months navigating the twisting corridors. According to him, they could walk right past the branch that led outside the walls and not even know it. “I should be with him.”

“We all want to be up there with Zeke,” said a bow-wielding Abby, who was following behind her. A snort from Pudge announced his agreement from the end of the line. The tunnels were barely wide enough to accommodate the bear, and his every step scraped against the walls. “But this is the best plan.”

Talia disagreed. The best plan would have had them all leaving the city via the Spiders’ secret passages. They didn’t need to fight for a city that had, on multiple occasions, tried to kill them. As far as Talia was concerned, they could fend for themselves.

The others weren’t so callous or indifferent, much to Talia’s muted chagrin.

Carlos said, “The fork is right up here.”

His voice was strained, and for good reason. Throughout their trek through the tunnels, he’d come across dozens of his former guildmates, most of which had been mere novices. None had survived Talia’s massacre. He’d claimed that he understood the necessity of what had been done, but Talia wasn’t so sure.

He had never looked at her with anything approaching comfort. Usually, if she moved too quickly, he flinched. Sometimes, it only affected his eyes, but it was still there, all the same. That wariness had graduated to full-fledged fear. In short, he’d always looked at her like she was a potentially dangerous monster. Now, he saw her as something else. Something worse. Something that might soon need to be dealt with.

The worst part was that Talia didn’t disagree. She had no death wish. She didn’t want to revisit the void, even for the instant she suspected it would take her to reach that light that had dangled just out of her reach. But she was cognizant of just how dangerous she would be if she completely lost control.

In that respect, she felt much like Zeke.

He was dangerous, too. That was why they’d attacked him, why they had tried to trap him. It wasn’t because he’d run afoul of them outside of Beacon. Nor was it an act of revenge for all the lives he’d inadvertently taken. The Sultanate – and the Crystal Spiders – were all smart enough to recognize a threat when they saw it. And that was precisely what Zeke represented. A threat to everything they’d built. Everything they had struggled to create. He was a force of nature that could, if provoked, bring everything tumbling down.

So, in their hubris, they had set their trap. They had chosen to end the threat before it could grow any stronger. And they had lost. Badly. The cost had been the very thing they had been trying to protect. The Spiders, for all of their history as one of the most powerful organizations in the Radiant Isles, were no more. They had been exterminated like the pests they were. And the Sultanate that had clung to their city so fervently, were all dead.

All because they had chosen to oppose Zeke.

He was a monster, if of a different sort than Talia, and probably far more dangerous than she could ever be.

After a few hundred more feet, Carlos stopped and, with both hands, pressed against the tunnel’s bare wall. It swung inward, revealing a passage.

“Why did they not flee this way?” she asked, the shadowy tunnel hiding nothing from her evolved eyes. It was a reasonable question. If the novices had been behind the wall, she never would have found them.

“They didn’t know about it,” Carlos answered, his voice devoid of the emotions he doubtless felt. From what Talia understood, Carlos had been a bit of a loner, but he had still likely been acquainted with many of the Spiders who had been slain, either by her or by Zeke. Even knowing that it was necessary – and he had to know that – it was still a hard thing to accept. He continued, “These tunnels to the outside were almost never used anymore. We didn’t have to. When the guild first started, the Spiders were an underground organization that had to remain hidden. After being legitimized by the city, we could just walk out the front gates. These tunnels leading outside were unnecessary.”

That made some sense, and as Talia followed Carlos, the cobwebs in the corners and thick coating of dust on the ground supported the former assassin’s assertions. Still, it felt like such a waste to Talia. To be able to come and go without anyone being the wiser was too great an advantage to have been discarded out of hand. But then again, the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. The Spiders’ leadership had grown complacent over the years.

It wasn’t so different from what had happened with her own mother. Aside from her recent quest to resurrect her dead husband, Lady Constance had largely abandoned the idea of improvement. When you were already at the top, what use was there to climb higher? Especially after hundreds of years. That further supported Zeke’s claim that people weren’t supposed to have been stranded in the Radiant Isles. Instead, they were supposed to have moved on to a higher plane. Something had stopped the natural order, though, and humanity had grown stagnant. The Spiders, for all their fearsome reputation, were no different than any of the other continent’s powerful people.

“We’re coming up on the exit,” Carlos announced, coming to a stop before a set of crudely carved stairs. He glanced back at his companions, adding, “I have no idea what’s up there, so I think it’s best if only one of us goes out.”

“I will do it,” said Talia.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” asked Carlos.

“It is,” she responded. “I am undead. If the others can sense the living, I will be the least likely to alert them.”

“But I can stick to the shadows and –”

Talia pushed past him and climbed the steps. It wasn’t a short trip, and the stairs kept doubling back on themselves, but eventually, she made it to the top, where she found a trapdoor. She wasted no time before unhooking the crude, iron latch and, with a heave, pushing it open.

Talia blinked as sunlight flooded the area, but it only took a few seconds for her vision to adjust to the bright light. When it did, she climbed through the trapdoor and found herself in the middle of the desert. Beside her was a sizable rock formation comprised of sandstone, and nearly five miles distant were Jariq’s walls. She scanned the area, looking for threats, and when she found none, she raised her voice and told her companions that the coast was clear. In only a few moments, everyone had joined her in the desert air. Pudge had a little difficult fitting through the trap door, but he managed it well enough.

Once everyone had climbed to the surface, Carlos shut the trap door. It was well-concealed by a pair of scrubby bushes and some artfully arranged rocks, and if she hadn’t just used it, she never would’ve known that there was an entrance to a tunnel there.

“Okay, so we should be on the eastern side of the city,” Carlos said. “The plan was to skirt around until we see the undead army. Once we do, we’re supposed to get behind them, and when Zeke makes his move, hit them from the rear. Any questions?”

Everyone shook their heads or said that they didn’t; after all, they were all privy to the plan. They knew what they were supposed to accomplish. So, without further ado, they set off, giving the city a wide berth as they circled the walls. After a few hours – they could only move as quickly as their slowest member, which was Abby – the group spotted the undead horde. And it was just as massive as Talia remembered.

“Wait,” she said as she noticed something different.

“What is it?” asked Carlos.

“You do not see it?” she asked, pointing. The army was a few miles distant, so, to unevolved eyes, it would’ve looked like nothing more than a dark wave on the horizon. However, Talia’s eyes were long since evolved, so she could make out enough details to know that the horde had grown in the short time since her last scouting expedition.

Abby, who was squinting at the army, let out a gasp. “There are…animals…”

“This is bad,” Carlos muttered to himself. “This is really, really bad.”

Indeed, there was nothing that said monsters couldn’t succumb to the disease that turned a living being into undead, but it was still uncommon. Few people knew precisely why it was rare. It just was.

However, it seemed that Abraham Micayne had solved whatever problem usually prevented monsters from being affected by the disease. The evidence of his work was within the horde approaching Jariq. Monsters of every shape, size, and, most distressingly, power – from uncategorized to Boss-tier creatures – were nestled amongst the shambling zombies, flesh golems, and other assorted undead.

“What the hell?” Abby said.

“This does not change anything,” Talia stated, her voice breaking the spell.

“It changes everything,” Talia, Carlos said. “If they can turn monsters and other animals, think about what this means for the rest of the world.”

“Oh, God…”

Talia cut that off, saying, “We are not concerned with the rest of the world. We have a job to do. We can worry about the rest when the time comes.”

Even as she said the words, worry tickled the back of Talia’s mind. She understood the implications of the discovery. If Micayne could transform normal monsters into undead, he would have an endless sea of mindless and obedient soldiers at his disposal. Humanity had always been outnumbered by the monsters. The only thing keeping them at bay were the rare elites and the enchantments left behind by the elves. One such enchantment protected Beacon and the area surrounding the city, and another protected Sanctuary. Lesser versions kept the monsters away from the Waystations that dotted the continent. But how long would those enchantments last before a tidal wave of undead? Even weakened by those ancient defenses, the undead, bolstered by the new additions of monsters, would still outnumber humanity a hundred to one. And that was an optimistic ratio.

The simple discovery was an announcement that humanity’s time in the Radiant Isles had come to an end. Soon, the undead would reign. It was only a matter of time unless someone did something about the instigator of it all.

Still, Talia couldn’t let herself care about that. She needed to focus on the job at hand. And so, she added, “We will figure it out later. Now, we must adhere to the plan.”

It was a poor motivational speech, but it served its purpose of refocusing everyone enough that they all pushed the dire thoughts to the backs of their minds. Once that was done, the group resumed their journey on a trajectory that would take them wide of the undead army where they could attack the horde’s loosely organized backlines, destroying the spitters that could attack from range. In the meantime, Zeke, as well as everyone on the walls that could throw a ranged skill, were supposed to take on the army from the front. It wasn’t exactly a hammer and anvil situation, but it was the best they could come up with, considering their dearth of resources, both in terms of powerful items and strong fighters.

Once the group was in position a few miles behind the horde, they settled down to wait for Zeke to make his move. When he did, the entire army would be focused on him, and if it was anyone else, Talia would have been worried. However, Zeke had faced down armies before and come out on top. That he could do so again wasn’t just expected; in her mind, it was a foregone conclusion. The only question was how many others would die along the way.

She hoped that she – nor any of her companions – would be one of the casualties. But she also knew just how unrealistic it was to expect them to continue to defy the odds. Eventually, one of them would die. Tucker had already fallen. Who would be next? Would it be the weakest member of the group, Abby? Or would it be Carlos? Talia herself? Pudge seemed almost as invulnerable as Zeke, but even he could fall.

“Are you okay?” asked Abby, her hand finding Talia’s arm. She pretended not to notice the other woman’s trembling fingers. The fear in her eyes. Abby wasn’t frightened of the upcoming battle. No – she was scared of Talia, and rightly so.

“I am fine.”

“You’re not, though,” Abby stated. “What you had to do in those tunnels was –”

Just then, Pudge let out a roar and charged toward the undead army’s backlines. That was their signal. Zeke had begun the battle. Now, they needed to do their part. Talia jerked her arm free and followed Pudge. Carlos found a narrow shadow cast by a rock and stepped into it. Abby sighed and followed, letting the distance grow between her and the melee fighters. Needing every ounce of concentration she could muster, Talia paid her no mind. The archer knew her role, and she would perform it well.

She embraced her skills, one by one. First came [Alacrity of Undeath], sending her agility and dexterity soaring. Her muscles twitched with the need to move. Next was [Chill of Undeath] and [Plague Strike], coating her claws in a swirl of white-and-green energy. Finally, she embraced her new fused path, that of decay. Black tendrils, emanating from her fingertips, grew up her arms, mingling with her green veins.

She hadn’t had much chance to experiment with her fused path, but she instinctively knew that it would make her rot-based attacks, like [Plague Strike] and [Flood of Death] all the deadlier.

Talia veered to the north. Carlos, to the south. Pudge chose to target the middle of the undead army while Abby would pepper them with arrows and lightning from afar.

She swept in like a scythe, aiming a condensed beam of black energy at the first spitter that came into view. It sliced through the unliving creature’s head, but it didn’t stop there. The things were so tightly packed that the beam of [Flood of Death] kept going for seven or eight more ranks before dissipating, felling a half dozen of the creatures with a single attack.

And then she was dancing among them, her claws slicing and stabbing as she easily avoided their comparatively clumsy attempts to corral her efforts. In the distance, she heard Pudge let out a roar, and the smell of burning corpses followed. Lightning fell from the sky, adding the mingled odor of ozone and burnt flesh to the mix.

Talia was too far away from Carlos, who was on the other side of the army, to see his efforts, but she could easily imagine his shadow spikes exploding into razor-sharp blades of umbral energy.

The spitters spat, aiming head-sized balls of rot-infused saliva at her, but with her fused path of decay, the inferior skills slid off of her like so much harmless water. She killed nearly twenty of them before she faced her first elite-tier enemy – a wight that had slowly moved into an attack position.

The thing’s entire head darted out, connected to its body by only a thin tendril of grey flesh, and so quick that Talia could barely avoid it. But avoid it she did, and when it went flying past her to clamp down on a spitter that had been unlucky enough to be positioned behind her, her claws flashed – once, twice, then three times – before the monster could realize its error. The tendril of flesh that acted as its neck erupted into black ichor as it was severed, ending the threat.

But it wasn’t alone. All around her, more wight’s appeared. The spitters backed away, leaving a clear space around Talia.

She smiled – a rarity for someone with such muted emotions.

Even as a dozen wights attacked, their heads blistering through the air almost too fast to perceive, the spitters unleashed their own attacks. Balls of rot-infused saliva, accompanied by just as many gaping, chomping maws, shot toward her.

Talia’s smile widened. There was value in a challenge, after all.

She moved, pushing herself faster than she’d ever gone before. Twisting and turning, leaping and rolling, she avoided every single attack. Some missed by miles. Others by mere inches. When the dust settled, and the wights had retracted their heads, Talia stood unmarred.

“My turn,” she mumbled.

Then, she went on the attack. The smile never left her face.