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— ATTENTION! THE HIGHER Powers smile upon you! You have replicated the legendary feat of Tenazeer the Illustrious for a third time! You have defeated a Primordial being!
— Congratulations! You receive:
— Drop of Primordial blood (10).
— Heart of a Primordial (1).
— Attention! The heavens bless you! You have replicated the legendary feat of Olaf the Brave! You have defeated a Higher Necromancer!
— Congratulations! You receive:
— Experience essence (200,000).
― Diamond tablet (40)
— Gold tablet (100).
— Silver tablet (400).
— Monster Hunter Token (1500).
― Large Orb of Darkness (300).
— Iridescent tablet “Undoing.”
— Attention! The heavens bless you! You have accomplished a legendary deed! You have defeated Udun Acolyte of Death!
— Congratulations! You receive:
— Necromancer’s Cloak (1).
AFTER QUICKLY READING through the message, I glanced at the spot where Udun had been lying just a minute earlier. Naturally, the beam of the Great Light had reduced the necromancer to dust. Not even a chip of bone remained. Much less his cloak, which the system promised me as a reward. On the other hand, that was maybe for the best. A necromancer’s cloak is probably a pretty vile item.
I turned and glanced up at the wall where my warriors were now celebrating. Mare’s body probably also turned into ash along with her belongings. I shook my head. Oh well! I’m doing just fine anyway. Look how much valuable loot dropped from just two primordials. And I hadn’t even tallied up the rewards from the dead creatures, necromorphs and wraiths we’d killed yet.
And speaking of them, as soon as Udun died, Newtown’s alarm system turned right back on. So, he was the only one blocking it. At any rate, the alarm network barraged me with messages about trespassers getting caught in its magic traps. The undead warband, left without a boss, had started wandering aimlessly through the forest. The second and third circle traps were now running full blast. Messages about victories and rewards raced before my eyes.
The level of mana in Newtown’s magic supply took a big dip, but there’s a big difference between level four and level one. The city handled it without our help. We won’t go poking our heads around in the forest just yet. Let the traps bring down the number of walking corpses. We have bigger concerns for now. We have to hurry to the Bridge of Bones. A small party of scouts is there now under Chris’ command holding the fort down.
I wasn’t particularly worried for the trackers. Our defenses around the portal were overkill for orcs. Our fleet-footed hunters could easily take shelter in the forest. And overall, my intuition is telling me Sarkhaat won’t be poking his nose over here any time soon. I’m sure he’ll wait for the necromancers to destroy the city first. I wonder if he can already tell we defeated his masters.
When I got back up on the wall, I saw that almost half of our garrison was preparing to leave the city. Gus once again proved himself the right man for the job. As troop commander, he understood that we needed get to the river as quickly as possible.
While walking toward the main gates, I saw Mee. The gremlin was tending to the wounded with all the enthusiasm he could muster. Sensing my gaze, he looked up.
“Stay here,” I asked him. “We’re going out to greet more visitors.”
The gremlin nodded in silence and hunched back down over a wounded soldier.
“You stay, too,” I said to Gorgie and the foxmaidens.
Whereas Amber was unbothered, Gorgie and Onyx had looks of disappointment in their eyes.
“The forest is full of necromorphs,” I said, nodding behind my back. “They could come test our defenses at any time. Your mission is to keep Mee safe.”
“That’s all we’ve been doing for the last while... Just looking after this little guy,” the unhappy Onyx muttered to herself. “We’ve been missing out on every big event...”
She thought I couldn’t hear her.
“Very soon, you will understand that your mission was essentially the most important one of all,” I chuckled and watched the restless fox’s face stretch out in surprise. “You don’t have much longer to wait. Be patient.”
With a wink at my former bodyguard, I moved out.
At the gates, I was awaited by two hundred troops headed by Gus. Troop commanders Scowl and Whistle were there, too. And of course the omnipresent Wheeze. How could we ever leave him out? The clever fox was surrounded by his trophy brigade and driving something home to them with vibrant gesturing.
“Losses?” I asked shortly when I got next to the garrison commander.
“Including the tracker party — seventy-eight troops,” Gus reported sullenly. “Three were headmen and two were troop commanders.”
“Who?” I winced.
“Slick and Gray.”
“How did that happen?”
“Slick was one of the first people the Demon of the Night ran into on the wall... Gray and another couple of his troops meanwhile got hit by a giant spiderweb.”
I breathed a condensed sigh. I felt pity for all the warriors without a doubt, but I must admit I was particularly upset to lose the talented commanders.
Scowl and Whistle were standing at my side in silence. On their gloomy faces, I saw decisiveness and desire to take revenge for their fallen comrades.
“It’s time to move out!” I commanded and stepped off toward the gates.
By the time we made it across the ditch and reached the first trees, I heard Wheeze’s familiar surly voice.
“It is a real shame that lady burned up with all her stuff... My heart is telling me she had all kinds of expensive stuff in her pockets...”
I just shook my head. As my mother used to say: honey is sweet, but the bee stings. After all, not long ago he was telling me to incinerate the demon’s body, but now he’s over there sighing. Although on the other hand, I wouldn’t have my loot brigade commander any other way. Economically minded and clever. But most important is making sure none of the loot ends up getting stuck in his greedy paws.
* * *
I WAS STANDING WITH troop commanders Scowl, Whistle, and Wheeze as well as tracking party commander Chris on the edge of the forest. We were keeping tabs on the far side of a river the steppe dwellers called the Snakelet. After the rainy season, the river had swelled beyond its banks. The water raced west in a frenzied dark-brown flow to later join up with its older sister the gushing Venta.
“What, they haven’t moved yet?” I asked, staring at the army of orcs stationed on the opposite bank. The smoke of hundreds of bonfires curled up toward a sky enshrouded by gray rainclouds. There was a cool breeze on the air. The rainy season was not yet over, so a downpour was liable to begin at any moment.
“A few times, small parties rode up to the bridge on their wargs,” Chris responded. “But we easily pushed them back with arrows. I’m starting to get the impression they don’t particularly want to come over here. Like they were chased here with a rod.”
I was right. Sarkhaat was waiting for word from the necromancers. Which was why he had yet to work up the courage to cross the river. The sly shaman must have been aware of our traps. And as for the common warriors’ behavior... That could be anything from crushed will to a simple ploy. Which I told Chris right away.
“What do you think, are there a lot of them here?” I asked scout commander Whistle.
Gus had appointed him deputy while he stayed back in Newtown.
“Around seven hundred riders,” Chris replied. “We didn’t even count the slaves. There are a lot of them. A whole lot.”
Wheeze gave a whistle. I glanced sidelong at him. He’s probably tallying up future profits. Based on the pointed, sullen gazes from the other commanders, we all shared the same thoughts about the quirky loot brigade leader.
“Your suggestions, esteemed troop commanders,” I said.
“If we meet them on open ground, there will be many losses,” troop commander Scowl called back. “But on our side, where the forest is packed full of traps, we can take them down quickly.”
“So, we should lure them over here,” came troop commander Whistle. “But how? If I’m getting this right, they are awaiting a signal from the necromancers. They know about the traps, too.”
“Yes,” Wheeze confirmed. “They won’t make a move without the command.”
“We’ll wait for nightfall,” Chris suggested. “Then we can go to the other side of the river and hit them while they’re sleeping.”
“Out of the question,” I shook my head. “I don’t want the slaves to get hurt. Plus, Troop Commander Scowl was right ― on open ground, we’ll take big losses. Plus, the whipsnakes’ main spells haven’t cooled down yet.”
I conveniently failed to mention the fact that I also had a few mass damage spells up my sleeve. For example, Chaos Whirlwind or Decay of the Abyss. An iridescent tablet with that last spell dropped after I defeated the lesser Demon of the Abyss. How spells like that work is totally unpredictable. I’m scared to even imagine what might happen if that magic also harmed the orcs’ defenseless prisoners.
By the way, speaking of tablets. Defeating the necromancers got me two Iridescents. They both contained spells from King Nidas’ magic arsenal. Seemingly, to a certain degree, what I told Udun about equilibrium and balance was right. The mysterious higher powers were bringing light magic back to this world through me, after having its adepts zealously exterminated over the course of several centuries by the necromancers and ancestors of the Steel King. And I don’t blame them. The legendary king of Darta’s spell was strikingly effective.
― Footstep of the Light
― Description:
― One of the most powerful light magic spells, created by King Nidas.
― Type: Camouflage.
― Rarity: Legendary.
― Magic School: Light.
― Effect:
― After activation, makes mage invisible (normal/magic vision). No follower of Darkness can sense or see a mage that is using Footstep of the Light.
― Requirements:
― Intellect – 15.
― Expends 500 mana points.
This spell was like my Canopy but with one important extra. I could now stroll through hordes of Dark creatures without the risk of being detected in any way.
The second spell was no less effective. As a matter of fact, when I read the description, a ravening smile appeared on my face. Yet another trump card I intend to use to catch the ironskinned Egbert off guard.
― Undoing
― Description:
― One of the most powerful light magic spells, created by King Nidas.
― Type: Magic support.
― Rarity: Legendary.
― Magic School: Light.
― Effect:
― After activation, removes magic buffs from all adversaries (strength/defense/camouflage).
― Requirements:
― Intellect – 15.
― Expends 10,000 mana points.
― Note:
― Cooldown time: 10 hours.
― Important!
― Works only on Dark magic!
“I know how to get the orcs to attack.”
The commanders turned their heads toward me.
“Their shaman has been seeking a meeting with me for a long time,” I said. “We have to take advantage of that. Announce formation!”
The sight of two hundred foxfolk packed into armor suits emerging from the forest caused a stir in the enemy camp. The drawling roar of a war horn blasted out over the steppe. The orcs assembled their riders. The longer I watched, the more I realized the slapdash collection of vagabonds was no match for us. The real threat here was Sarkhaat himself and the third rider that had seen Chris when he first went onto the steppe to scout and who Udun and Mare had referred to later as “the old man.” The only thing I was absolutely certain of was that this “old man” had nothing to do with necromancy. Otherwise, he would have taken command of the herds of orphaned necromorphs idiotically wandering to their deaths in the Stone Forest long ago.
“They must not have been expecting to see us!” Wheeze laughed, watching the low-level orcs’ chaotic dithering.
After noticing the two riders that stood out in the fray like big rocks in the midst of a raging sea, I stepped out in front.
When I saw that Wheeze was trying to follow me, I stopped him:
“Stay here. Soon, it won’t be safe around me.”
The riders noticed me and also moved out. Not long after, we stopped to face each other across the river.
I recognized the first rider straight away. It was Sarkhaat. The shaman was seated atop a huge level-thirty black warg. The sole living orcish warlock left in existence was already up to level seventy-six. Not bad. The shaman had gained twenty levels in one year.
The second rider on a gray horse I recognized also, but not right away.
Now I could see why the necromancers called him “the old man,” and why Udun warned Mare not to say anything.
It was Magister Sato. The right hand of the Steel King. But alas, I was not able to see his level.
I was also being studied closely. Based on Sato’s sour expression, he couldn’t read me either. Sarkhaat meanwhile was practically burning a hole in me with his hateful gaze. That’s good. I’m sure I’ll be able to rattle his cage.
“Bah!” I exclaimed mockingly and threw up my arms. “Magister Sato! Happy to see you again! You move pretty quick for an old man! You must have informants just about everywhere!”
Based on the primordial’s frown, he could hear me just fine despite the Snakelet’s roaring waters.
“In the Order of Mages!” I started mockingly counting off, putting up fingers on my right hand as I did. “Among the elves! And now on the Wastes! You need to look after yourself better, sir Magister! At your age, you should be sitting at home by the fireplace sipping warm herbal tea all day.”
I knew that wouldn’t bother the old man but, on the other hand, it might give him a false impression of me. An insolent kid who acquired lots of authority without deserving it.
But alas, Sato didn’t take the bait. He could tell what was happening right away.
“Udun and Mare are dead...” he said half inquisitively.
He didn’t look to be straining his voice particularly, but I could hear the old man perfectly as if he were standing a step away from me.
“What else were you expecting?!” I chuckled.
The primordial had no reaction to that. He turned his steed around and headed toward the orc camp. And a moment later, I saw him wave a hand and create a flickering portal in front of him. A second later, Magister Sato was gone, leaving the orcs to the whims of fate. I didn’t even manage to react. That’s how quickly and unexpectedly it all happened.
The fact that the Steel King’s advisor ran away made absolutely no impression on Sarkhaat. The shaman seemed to have known the magister would do just that.
For the record, the primordial did exactly the right thing. Sato had already realized the attack on us was doomed to fail. Beyond that, the dark portal is sealed. The necromancers are dead. No point wasting mana and risking his life. Now the old man’s priority is to keep his master informed.
Too bad... The magister’s escape came as a complete surprise to me. I never should have let him go. But who knew he was going to do that?
“You’re all alone now, traitor to your own kind!” I shouted at Sarkhaat with a cheery smile.
The wolf riders gathered behind the shaman shuddered at my words and started trading looks. They could hear me perfectly well, too.
“Was it really worth it?!” I shouted loudly. “You betrayed your friends! You do know after all what the necromancers did to the other shamans you tricked into that trap, don’t you?!”
I saw the wave of riders start to stir. The orcs seemed caught off guard. I had noticed they were all from different clans and houses a while ago. Probably some of them were related to the shamans he had led to the slaughter.
“Warriors of the steppe!” I shouted. “Your shamans were fed to the Tree of Spirits! They did it to lure powerful creatures into our world! You, your families and friends have become prey thanks to Sarkhaat and his necromancer buddies!”
I saw the orcs start to discuss what I said. I chuckled. The seed of doubt had hit fertile soil.
“Shut your trap, pup!” Sarkhaat bellowed out. His eyes spinning in rage, he bared his teeth and got up in the saddle. “You’ll pay for the death of my grandson! I’ll gut you for it, then quarter you!”
I broke down laughing loudly, clutching my belly to complete the image.
“You coward!” I shouted out, laughing. “You already had a chance to kill me! But instead, you abandoned your warriors and ran away with your tail between your legs like a whipped dog! Your grandson was a bloodthirsty brute just like you, but at least he was a valiant warrior! Vile traitor and pitiful coward! Come over here and act on your threats for once! Or are you planning to run away again like your master?!”
As expected, Sarkhaat was unable to bear that insult. The old man was holding on with the last of his strength. He raised his hands to the sky and roared out loudly. And a moment later, before him appeared a semitransparent ash-gray something. A spirit, some kind of monster from the otherworld. Now I remember! It was the same creature Sarkhaat was riding that day when he was following me on the edge of the Wastes.
Once off the warg’s back and on his transparent mount, Sarkhaat sent it straight at me. Obeying its master’s order, the spirit raced forward. Sarkhaat, flying right over the water, was quickly drawing near. He was getting ready to cast some kind of spell at me.
The leader’s attack made an impression on the orcs. They started shouting and shaking their weapons menacingly. Right up until two giant snakes appeared at my side from out of thin air and started attacking the flying shaman.
Before flame and lightning engulfed the old man, our gazes met. In his wide-open eyes I saw surprise and, seemingly, resentment... And another thing — realization that he would never get his revenge...