Chương 107: Chapter 106

Death Knights The ritual complete, Caxir sagged to his knees. Despite his exhaustion, he was filled with a savage sense of triumph, his lips curling once more into a twisted grin. He had done it. Even now, spears of unholy magic rained down upon the city and surrounding countryside, seeking out and reanimating the dead. Very soon, he would command a vast army – a million undead, each and every one greatly enhanced by the magic of his ritual.

Not only would they possess incredible strength and speed, but they would also be utterly devoted to him. And with such an army at his back? He would be unstoppable. A tide of bone, sweeping across the land, their numbers growing with every victory as Caxir freed the living from the suffering that was life. But he was not done yet. One important task remained.

While his skeletal warriors would be incredibly formidable, there were those among the living who, despite being foolish and misguided, were undeniably powerful. Caxir had no doubt his skeletal warriors would eventually defeat them through sheer weight of numbers, but the cost would be great. No. That would not do. During his imprisonment, one thing Caxir had never lacked was time. Time to think. Time to plan.

He had given much thought to how he would crush the more stubborn resistance he would encounter – the likes of his old masters and any new heroes who had risen to power in his absence. Death Knights. When the runes imprisoning him finally failed and he stumbled from the crypt, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin for the first time in over seven hundred years, Caxir had not immediately made his way towards the pyramid.

Instead, he had visited the Valley of Heroes, the resting place of the greatest warriors his civilisation had ever produced. Generals. Warlords. Champions. He had selected five from among their number who would serve as his elite guard. His Death Knights. Ryul, the Blade of Echoryn. Hatharal Redclaw. Gorluin the Hungry. Vulas Sharpeye. And, greatest of all, Elidyr the Colossal. Rising to his feet, Caxir left the ritual chamber and hobbled through the hallways of the pyramid.

He leaned heavily on his staff, the ritual of reanimation having taken a significant toll on him. The exhaustion was not physical. Indeed, he had left such weaknesses behind when he had shaken loose the shackles of mortality. No, it was spiritual. Despite draining the life force of the very land itself to power the ritual, he had still drawn deeply from his own mana pool to channel and direct the flow of energy. He entered another chamber, letting out a croaky gasp of satisfaction at the sight that greeted him.

Arranged carefully on the flagstones and bathed in the flickering torchlight were five sets of remains, each with a spear of green energy embedded within them. Even as he watched, the spears dissolved into a fine dust that settled over the skeletons. It clung to the bones before slowly sinking into them, suffusing them with power. It was the set of remains in the centre that drew his attention. Elidyr the Colossal. His title was well earned, for he had been a giant among his people.

His bones were far longer and thicker than those of the other warriors, despite the fact that they too had been imposing individuals. The last remnants of the spears dissolved, and the skeletons rose unsteadily to their feet, Elidyr towering over the others. They were clumsy at first, stumbling to one side and then the other as they struggled to find their balance. Caxir smiled once again, but this time, there was a certain warmth and fondness to it.

In many ways, he was watching his children take their first steps. Thankfully, it did not take them years to gain their bearing as it would a real child. The five warriors, still a little unsteady, moved to stand before Caxir. A sickly green light flickered to life within their empty eye sockets. It was weak at first, but quickly intensified until they blazed like noxious suns. They dropped to their knees, heads bowed.

"Master," said Elidyr. His voice was deep and powerful, with an almost resonant quality to it.

"We are yours to command." Caxir simply stared at them for a few moments. Everything had led to this moment… his imprisonment, and the loneliness, anguish, and madness it had entailed. His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle tremor. For a moment, he thought it might have been nothing more than a little shiver of excitement running through his body, but when a fine cloud of dust rose from the floor, he realised it was the chamber itself that was trembling. And that noise? What was it?

It was distant and muted, which was unsurprising considering he was in the heart of the pyramid, surrounded by millions of tonnes of stone. Even so... how loud must it have been to reach him here? He shook his head. There would be time to investigate later. There was still work to do to prepare his Death Knights for what was to come.

"Rise, my children." Caxir's voice broke a little, causing an unfortunately high-pitched squeak when he said "children." He, then cleared his throat.

"The custom is that a parent presents their children with a gift on their birthdays. I see no reason why this occasion should be any different. Come." He led them into the adjacent chamber, his eyes narrowing as the walls shook once more. His thoughts turned, somewhat uncomfortably, to the two strangers he had intercepted on the outskirts of the city. Surely they were not involved?

Any sane person who witnessed the birth of a million skeletal warriors would have fled as fast as their legs could carry them, regardless of how strong they might be. It mattered not. Even if they were involved, it was not as though they could cause any real damage in such a short amount of time. He would take his Death Knights and deal with whatever was happening soon enough. The room was a treasure trove of legendary armour and weapons.

Not only had Caxir retrieved the remains of the fallen heroes, he had stripped the vaults of all their possessions. But he hadn't stopped there. By his own hand, runes had been etched into the metal of the blades and armour, and carved into the leather. They glowed with the same sickly green intensity as the warriors' eyes, vastly enhancing the durability and potency of the equipment. Once they were armed, they would be nigh unstoppable.

They would cut through that arrogant man and his pet rodent before either had time to draw breath. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The chamber shook again, even more violently this time. What was happening? They were ruining the moment! He had wanted to witness his Death Knights donning their armour – to see them in all their unholy glory for the very first time. He snarled.

"Equip your armour and weapons. Find me when you are ready." He strode through the corridors this time. Not only had some of his mana recovered, but he was now fuelled by a barely contained rage. Whoever was responsible for interrupting him would pay. Flinging the doors open with such force that they tore from their hinges and tumbled down the side of the pyramid, Caxir stepped out onto the narrow balcony that ran around its apex. He was forced to squint at the sheer intensity of the maelstrom raging over the city.

Lightning, fire, and frost rained down, and Caxir's heart dropped as he witnessed the devastation they wrought. Buildings and skeletons alike were obliterated, creating enormous mounds of rubble and bone. Had he angered the gods? Had one of them descended from the heavens to unleash their wrath? And then, improbable though it seemed, something tore his attention away from the elemental cataclysm. Something... or someone...

was zigzagging through the city at such absurd speeds that it crossed from one side to the other in the space of a second. Whatever it was, it was either too small, or simply too fast, for Caxir to make out from his vantage point. What he could see with perfect clarity, however, was the trail of destruction it left in its wake. With each pass, another pathway was carved through the city. He withdrew into himself, examining the threads of power that formed the tether between himself and the skeletal warriors. No...

no... NO! This wasn't possible! It had been less than ten minutes since he had completed the ritual, and already more than fifty thousand skeletons had been destroyed. He started to feel the fingers of despair closing around his heart. All the suffering he had endured. All the waiting, the planning, the sacrifice. It was unravelling before his very eyes.

"Curse you!" he roared, his magic spilling into his voice and carrying it across the city. Fury, pure and unbridled, exploded within him, severing the fingers of despair. He raised his staff, his lips curling back in a snarl, and fed his mana through it, power gathering at its tip. It shone with an intensity that matched the maelstrom raging before him. However, it did not burn with the pure, unrestrained power of the elements. It was a dark, twisted, corrupt thing, radiating a foul green light.

He thrust his staff forward, unleashing the spell, and roared his defiance as a bolt of unholy energy tore through the air. * Undead destroyed Pete – 37, 256 Rel – 18, 842 As I read the latest update, only one thought ran through my mind. Well... I say "thought," but I'm not entirely sure if muahahahahahaha qualified as one. Soon, Kaelis, Voklum, and Allaria would learn the truth... the undeniable truth that peasant garb was the pinnacle of fashion.

The star pose had proven to be an incredibly effective instrument of destruction. I may have looked like an utter moron, but the results were undeniable. In less than ten minutes, I'd obliterated a not-insignificant portion of the city. I'd also learned that the magical protection offered by Flight – which did a fantastic job of keeping the wind and bugs out of my eyes and mouth whenever I flew – also worked pretty well at repelling bone fragments and rubble.

It didn't stop me from feeling the impacts, but it did stop anything from getting in my hair or on my clothes. But that wasn't where the good news ended. It turned out that turning into a flying human bulldozer and demolishing a small army of Tier Five, three-star undead, along with thousands of buildings, was fantastic for stat training. I'd gained a point in strength, presumably from going balls to the wall with Flight.

A point in durability, presumably from using my body as an incredibly muscular and well-proportioned weapon. And a point in agility, presumably for aiming that weapon so effectively. Current strength: 72 Current durability: 67 Current agility: 58 Current intelligence: 44 As I flew back and forth through the city, my mind started to wander. Sure... the star pose had been effective, but what if there was an even more devastating option? What if I lay horizontally and flew sideways through the city?

I'd essentially turn into a human clothesline. A clothesline travelling faster than the speed of sound and capable of turning stone to dust. Or what if I spun in circles as I flew and became some sort of living hurricane? I wasn't entirely sure about the physics involved, but it sounded pretty fucking cool. My scientifically grounded and tactically minded pondering was interrupted by someone roaring, "No!" For a moment, I assumed it was Rel.

He'd probably just checked the latest update and finally accepted the reality of the situation. But no. The voice had contained equal parts anger and anguish, as though someone's entire world had just come crashing down. As unhappy as Rel might be about having to compliment peasant chic, I doubted even he would be so dramatic. Probably. I came to a dead stop less than a metre from a skeletal warrior. Its eyes pulsed slightly, almost as though it were blinking in surprise at my sudden and unexpected appearance.

"Join us!" it groaned. It lunged at me, arms outstretched and fingers curled into claws, as though it intended to tear me apart. I paid it no attention. I was too busy tracking an orb of green energy as it shot towards Rel. It was moving fast, the air around it twisting and distorting, and I expected him to swerve out of its path at any moment. It drew closer and closer. What the fuck was Rel doing? I was all for doing risky shit in the name of durability training, but this was our first three-star Tier Five quest.

Logic would suggest that avoiding a writhing mass of evil magic would be sensible. Rel either did not agree, or he was completely oblivious, too absorbed in playing elemental god and levelling a city with his spells.

"Fuck!" I roared. I activated Flight once more and tore through the air, intending to put myself between him and the approaching spell. I doubted it'd be a pleasant experience for me either, but I knew my durability was much higher. I'd left it too late. As I drew closer, I watched helplessly as the orb of green energy pierced the whirling storm of elements surrounding Rel.

Then it was as though someone had flicked a switch and turned out the lights, the world suddenly plunging into darkness as every one of Rel's spells winked out of existence at once. My Bane of the Dark enhanced vision was unaffected, and I saw Rel's limp form drop from the sky. I felt my heart lurch, and I swooped down to catch him. I placed him softly on the ground and gave his shoulder a gentle shake.

"Rel? Are you okay?" His eyelids fluttered open.

"Pete... my dearest friend." He groaned, then broke into a pitiful spluttering cough.

"Is that you?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Don't worry, buddy. You're going to be fine." I withdrew a healing potion from my inventory and gently lifted his head. He raised a paw to stop me.

"No... I need to do this myself. I wouldn't have been injured if I'd been paying more attention to my surroundings." Golden light gathered around his claws.

"Can you promise me one thing, though..."

"Anything."

"Make whoever was responsible pay." I stared at him for a few moments, my concern giving way to a bubbling anger. I nodded, then rose to my feet and turned to face the pyramid. Some dumb motherfucker was about to learn what happened to people who hurt my friends. * Rel watched Pete leave through barely open eyelids. He let out a few more pitiful groans for good measure, just to make sure the performance was convincing, but he needn't have bothered. Pete was already stomping towards the pyramid.

He reached the outer wall and, rather than slowing down, simply walked straight through it, leaving a man-shaped hole behind him. Rel jumped to his feet, letting the golden energy dissipate. He brushed a little dirt from his robes. Right... Undead destroyed Pete – 38, 954 Rel – 19, 756 Pete's rampage through the pyramid should buy him a good five minutes. Plenty of time to destroy a few more undead.

Pretending to be struck by the necromancer's spell might have been somewhat underhanded and more than a little devious, but honestly, who could blame him for employing such tactics when so much was at stake? Besides, Pete had once shared a saying from his home world. All is fair in love and war. This was both. War against the undead. Love for wizard robes and hats.