Chapter 213 - With a Whimper (Patreon)

Talia’s claws raked through what felt like her thousandth zombie, slicing its spine neatly in two. It collapsed, still moaning in unquenchable hunger and hate, only for her boot to find its head. It exploded like an overripe melon, splattering bone, rotted flesh, and black ichor in a circle all around her. She didn’t see it; instead, Talia moved on to the next monster in line, repeating her tried and true tactic of disabling, then ending it.

She had long since run out of mana, and her skills – save for [Alacrity of Undeath] – were well beyond her reach. So, she had no choice but to dismantle the zombified creatures, one by one. It was messy, gory work, and she was covered in bits of rotted meat and gallons of the black ichor that passed for blood amongst most of the undead.

It wasn’t lost on Talia that, unlike her opponents, her own blood ran green through her veins. But that wasn’t so surprising. She wasn’t one of them. She was awakened. A revenant. And no matter that they were elite versions of zombies, they were still no more than mindless footsoldiers. Even Rumas, who’d been one of the world’s elite, had fared no better, and though he could utilize rudimentary tactics and a couple of skills, he was still as mindless as the rest of his army.

Strangely, instead of making her feel better about her plight, Talia felt more isolated than ever before. She wasn’t like the other undead. She was unlike any human. She was unique, which was another way of saying that she was alone in the world.

Sure, there was Zeke, who was caught in a similar net, but he didn’t look like a monster. He didn’t have green blood and unnaturally pale skin. He didn’t have claws or a need to consume the hearts of his enemies. No – he got all the benefits of being more than human, but none of the downsides. If he wasn’t who he was, Talia would’ve been incredibly jealous. As it was, the differences only saddened her.

As for the others? They couldn’t understand. No one who hadn’t lived through something similar could, regardless of how much they tried.

Talia continued to rip her way through the brainless undead, rarely stopping longer than it took to completely dismantle a zombie, flesh golem, or reaper. The first two types were easy to deal with and could barely be considered a threat, they were so slow. However, the reapers were a different story altogether. Talia was still much faster, but the gap was narrow enough that, if she wasn’t on top of her game, they could injure her. Luckily, the tiny trickle of vital energy provided by the lesser version of Zeke’s leeching skill, which in turn was only possible because of the [Mark of Companionship] she bore, kept fatigue at bay. It wasn’t enough to do much about any injuries she might sustain, but it did keep her own energy levels high enough that she could avoid that eventuality.

It was yet another debt she owed Zeke. Without it, she’d have long since succumbed to exhaustion.

All around her, the battle raged. Her companions used their skills, with Pudge destroying undead with his fiery breath, massive claws, or his powerful jaws. Abby continued her long-ranged assault, though the time between lightning bolts grew progressively broader. Her mana, like Talia’s, was running thin. Carlos, however, was still going strong, though he refrained from using his [Shadow Explosion] skill, likely due to mana constraints.

Not that it mattered. The horde of undead was slowly growing thinner as the group methodically mowed them down. It wasn’t unlike the time they’d spent weeks killing fire ants. Back then, they’d had Tucker’s potions protecting them from the worst of the ants’ fiery attacks. They didn’t have anything similar now, but they didn’t need it, either. It wasn’t a battle; rather, the moment Zeke had finished the former paladin off, it had become an extermination. The only true danger lay in exhaustion, both mental and physical.

Which meant that, with access to Zeke’s skill, there was no danger at all, so long as they remained diligent. Still, she had a long, tedious fight ahead of her.

For the next six hours, Talia didn’t slow down a single time. Every hour or so, her mana would regenerate to the point that she could use one of her skills – usually the point-blank version of [Flood of Death], which was wide enough to affect twenty or more undead. Because of how densely packed the horde was, the skill was incredibly effective. Most, it killed outright, and the ones that did manage to survive were easily dismantled only a moment later.

Minute by minute, hour by hour, more zombies fell. However, Talia didn’t escape the melee completely unscathed. More than once, an unseen reaper would manage a solid blow, slicing into her flesh with relative ease. But being undead herself, she didn’t have to worry about the resulting disease. Nor did she let it affect her actions. Still, as the injuries piled up, she was forced to retreat to Abby’s position.

When she did, she was taken aback by just how many undead they’d slain. In every direction, the desert floor was carpeted with rotting bodies. More, she saw Pudge in the middle of the horde, standing on his hind legs, and swiping his massive claws at anything that dared to come near him. Only half the undead army remained, evidence of how effective they had been.

Carlos was nowhere to be seen, but if Talia focused, she could see a steady barrage of shadow spikes on the right-most flank, announcing that he was still alive and well enough to continue his attacks. That gave Talia a little relief. Of all her companions, only Zeke’s well-being rated higher than Carlos’s, as far as she was concerned. And though she knew it was unfair – after all, Abby had always tried to treat her like a friend, and Pudge was a stalwart companion – she also knew she couldn’t really help feeling how she felt.

Talia stumbled to a stop next to Abby, who had positioned herself atop a shallow rise. And when she saw Abby’s reaction to her appearance, Talia took a moment to take stock. Her left arm was in tatters – a result of being knocked off course by a particularly fast reaper. It had sent her careening out of control into a pack of zombies who, once they got their hands on her, took that as an opportunity to feast on her flesh. She had quickly escaped, but not in time to save her arm from being savaged.

There were various other cuts, scrapes, and gashes along her body, but none were as bad as when she’d caught a blow from one of the zombified Jotuns. It had ripped through her left side, taking ribs and flesh alike with it.

Finally, both of her collarbones had been broken – one much worse than the other – by some unknown assailant. It had caught her with a club-like arm, sending her flying across the battlefield. In every case, she’d soon recovered her momentum and continued her assault. However, even if she wouldn’t let the muted pain affect her, the structural injuries cut into her combat capability enough that she needed to take a moment to heal. Thus, she’d returned to Abby.

“Heart,” she croaked, one of her arms hanging limp. The other could scarcely move.

Abby reached into her satchel, which was enchanted to hold far more than it should have, and retrieved a still-warm heart. She handed it over to Talia, who wasted no time before bringing it to her lips. In moments, her teeth were tearing into the life-giving organ. Thick, red blood gushed, dripping down her chin as she devoured the thing in only a few seconds. As she did, a flood of life energy spread throughout her body. Her bones regrew and her flesh knitted back together as her body, once again, became whole. When she was finished, she thanked Abby.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “It’s fine if you need a break.”

Talia shook her head, unfamiliar emotions dancing in her mind. That was the one thing she hated about consuming the hearts. Not only did they heal her, but they also removed the undead filter from her feelings.

“I don’t need breaks,” she said. “The army is unbroken. We can’t afford to stop until they’ve been destroyed right down to the last zombie. Anything else, and we’ll soon have more undead in the city.”

“I know,” Abby said, reaching out to grab Talia’s arm. Her fingers trembled, likely repulsed by Talia’s cold, unliving flesh. An understandable reaction when one touches a monster, Talia couldn’t help but think. “But you’re not alone. You can rest. Everyone else has. Even Pudge had to come back here and lie down for an hour or so, but you’ve been going non-stop since the beginning.”

“So has Zeke,” Talia stated, the vital energy finally healing her back to pristine condition. “I stop when he stops.”

With that, Talia pulled away from the archer and resumed her efforts at extermination. She kept going for hours more, the process continuing well into the night. But aside from a trip back to Abby’s perch to consume another heart, she didn’t stop for more than a second or two. And her efforts were not without results. Slowly, the undead horde was whittled down to only a few ragged clumps of the strongest unliving creatures. Reapers, flesh golems, zombified Jotuns, and a few of the more powerful monsters were all that remained.

Over the course of the night, Talia caught sight of Zeke more than a few times. He methodically carved a path through the horde, his mace singing as it tore the creatures limb from limb. It was beautiful, in its own gory way – especially to Talia, who was uniquely positioned to appreciate the carnage he left in his wake. Upon seeing Zeke, Talia’s efforts redoubled, and she pushed herself to a combat speed she’d never before attained. Every movement harnessed the full might of her inflated stats, and all around her, everything else looked as if it was moving in water.

It was empowering. Even with her emotions muted by her undead nature, it was a joyful feeling, moving at such ridiculous speeds. She reveled in it as her claws sliced through one undead abomination after another with relative ease. Until, finally, there was nothing left to kill.

She slowed to a stop, and without her momentum keeping her upright, she stumbled to her knees. After moving at such high speeds for so long, going back to a normal pace left the world feeling slightly askew. As if everything – even her perception – was mired in quicksand. Talia sank to the sand, heedless of the ichor or rotting flesh coating the ground.

Then, for the first time since being transformed into a revenant, she vomited. Mingled green fluid and bits of the hearts she had consumed spewed forth from her mouth until, after a few seconds, she fell unconscious.

Some unknown amount of time later, her eyes fluttered open to see helmetless Zeke looming over her. More, she soon discovered that she was being carried in his arms. As she stirred, he looked down at her and asked, “Are you okay? I found you in the middle of the battlefield.”

“I…I am well,” she said, her scratchy voice sounding stilted even to her own ears. “Please, I can walk.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

With a nod, he set her down, and she belatedly realized that, while she had survived the battle, her armor had not. There were so many tears, rents, and missing pieces that it barely preserved her modesty, leaving vast swaths of her pale, green-veined skin bare to the world.

Her legs wobbled as she struggled to stand, but she pushed her discomfort aside. She would not fall. Not in front of him. So, with unnatural willpower, she forced strength into her limbs and steadied her legs.

“Is it over?” she asked.

“It is,” Zeke said. “Every last zombie is dead. The healers are working on getting everyone cured of the disease. We won.”

“Casualties?”

“A few hundred,” Zeke said. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Most of those came when I got dogpiled by a few hundred zombies. Once I got back into position and took Rumas out, the battle became a lot easier.”

“I see.”

After that, the pair picked their way through the corpse-strewn battlefield and toward the gap in the wall. There, Talia was dismayed to see quite a few less defenders than had been there the day before. And quite a few of them were aiming weapons in her direction.

“Stop!” Zeke growled.

But a handful of skills were already on the way. Some of them even looked deadly. Talia tried to activate her skills, but she was so drained that her mana simply wouldn’t respond to her commands. On top of that, her body had exhausted itself to the point where even walking was a chore, much less moving at speed. As a result, her movements were slow and sluggish, and she knew she would never be able to dodge the skills.

Not that she needed to.

Zeke threw himself in front of her, hugging her tight and sheltering her body with his. The skills landed on his armor to no effect, but one stray bolt of fire singed the top of his head. Fortunately, such an attack was almost useless against him after his transformation into a half-demon.

“I said to stop!” he shouted again. This time, it had the desired effect, and the defenders raised their hands in surrender. Zeke looked at Talia, asking, “Are you okay? You weren’t hit, were you?”

“N-no,” she said. “I…I am unharmed.”

“Good. If one of them would have hurt you…”

He left the statement unsaid, but they both knew that, if he were to be pushed any further by the people of Jariq, the results would not be pretty. That her well-being might drive him to kill hundreds, if not thousands of people, warmed her heart. Not the killing part. Not really, at least. It was the sentiment that she was worth defending. No one else looked at her like that.

Only Zeke.

“Talia!” came a feminine shout from behind one of the ramparts, and Talia laboriously turned her head to see Abby rushing toward them. When she drew near, she gasped, “You’re hurt! Do you need a heart?”

“N-not here,” she rasped, glancing at the soldiers and adventurers in the area. Even Zeke’s unspoken threats wouldn’t be enough to spare her if she started gnawing on a fresh heart in front of them.

Abby remembered herself and said, “You’re right. Come with me. We’ll get you somewhere private so you can recover.”

“Take her to the tower,” Zeke said. “I’ll be along once I’m sure everything is in hand.”

Abby agreed, and soon, Talia was being escorted by the archer and Pudge, who’d appeared out of nowhere to lumber beside them. A bodyguard, she was sure. With the way those defenders had looked at her, she couldn’t argue with the necessity. However, with the giant infernal bear trudging along beside her, no one would dream of attacking.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she was led into the tower where she didn’t even bother climbing the stairs before accepting the offered heart to replenish her reserves and heal her injured body. Even after she’d done so, and her wounds had faded, she was still exhausted. So, she found her way to her oft-ignored room and collapsed onto the bed before she let sleep overtake her.