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MURK FROWNED, but I saw a little fire of enthusiasm in his eyes. He always reacted like that when it came to weaponry, and anything related to it. A real enthusiast.
“What’s the risk to us?” he asked the right question.
“Nothing,” I answered. “Spirits are unable to harm their master. And that is exactly what this one considers me. I can sense that distinctly.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Murk asked with surprise.
I sighed. And really, why not? Murk’s excitement rubbed off on me. I sensed no threat from the keeper spirit. In fact, it was expressing a willingness to obey me unquestioningly. The only thing that bothered me was the Great System’s silence. By all appearances, the spirit was an otherworldly creature, so it didn’t fit into the laws created by our great goddess of order.
“Let’s give it a shot,” I agreed and gave the spirit permission to act.
It then rolled a wave of joy and gratitude over me and immediately left its temporary dwelling place, which fell apart into a thousand tiny grains of purple sand.
I watched it move into its “new home” with magic vision. The keeper spirit looked like a little bright blue nearly transparent cloud. It seemed to be afraid to spend too long outside, so it quickly slipped into the golem’s supply and fell silent for a moment.
“Well, how is it going?” Murk enquired.
“It’s already inside,” I commented and nodded at the golem.
“And what is it doing?”
“As far as I can tell, it’s getting used to its new home.”
“And how long will that take?” I heard impatience in Murk’s voice.
“No clue,” I shrugged and glanced out of the corner of my eye at my deputy. The albino was clearly worked up. Like a little boy who was just about to get a toy after a very long wait. Hm, the leader of the Fangs shows me new sides of himself every day.
I was pulled from my thoughts by a familiar magic upwelling. The surprise made me shudder.
“What?” Murk asked right away.
I scratched the back of my head in perplexity.
“It’s asking permission to change the golem...”
Murk snorted, then rubbed his hands together in satisfaction.
“Is this what think it is?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “We’re about to find out. It needs materials.”
“What exactly?” Murk asked eagerly.
“It doesn’t know,” I responded pensively. “It’s like it was just born. And as a newborn, it knows nothing about our world. It’ll figure it out as it goes.”
“Then let’s haul over everything we got!” the albino smiled and went to hand out orders.
Meanwhile, the spirit gradually got settled into its new dwelling place. It could already move the arms, walk and turn the golem’s head. When Murk came back, he found the golem gracefully swinging both swords in the air in intricate figure-eight patterns.
“Woah!” the albino exclaimed admiringly. “It’s getting the hang of it quick! I didn’t think golems could do that.”
I just shrugged my shoulders vaguely, continuing to watch my new “pet” closely. And what could I say? I’d never seen anything like this, either. On top of all that, the golem’s magic energy consumption was noticeably lower than before. Almost half. And the swords were spinning so fast the blades seemed to disappear into thin air.
Behind Murk’s back with their mouths agape stood several stock-still foxfolk.
“What did you bring?” I asked.
The albino stepped aside in silence, letting the carriers through.
“Nothing much,” he said. “Metals, beast parts, crystal fragments... Where should we start?”
I looked through the pile of materials and answered:
“You know... How about we let it pick.”
Murk snorted.
“That works. I’m actually curious.”
I turned around. The golem stopped swinging the blades and stood with its head turned toward the stuff. The ghastly bronze mask where its face should have been, probably created by gnomes to scare their enemies, bore no expression.
I decided to address the spirit the same way I had done with Bad Seed and Lazybones.
“You asked to change the golem’s body. I give you my permission. You may take whatever materials you like.”
The spirit rolled waves of joyful emotions over me and sent the golem straight to the chest with shards of crystal.
Murk and I traded understanding looks and followed after the golem.
The bronze giant loomed over the chest appearing to think, staring with its empty eye sockets at the crystals glimmering in the rays of the sun.
A little while later, the golem came to and, tossing the sword down, picked up one of the mana crystals in its right hand. For the record, it caught me by surprise. I thought it would take the biggest one. But the spirit ended up choosing a somewhat smaller shard with a slightly elongated shape.
I looked closer. Hm... I guess it made the right choice. The color of that crystal is the most saturated. And the difference is visible only through magic vision.
The golem turned toward me and showed me the crystal. At first, I didn’t understand what it wanted, but then it hit me. It was asking permission.
I nodded and added mentally:
“Take it. As long as it won’t harm us, you can use it and the others too.”
The golem froze for a moment then, clearly having made a decision, clenched the crystals in its wide hand. At first nothing happened, then the fragment lit up and disappeared.
A mutual sigh of surprise rolled through the armory.
“It just...” Murk started, perplexed.
“Transformed the golem’s supply,” I finished his sentence.
Meanwhile, the spirit kept absorbing the crystals it had been offered. Honestly, it was quite selective. It didn’t take them all one after the next. Only the ones with the most saturated colors. I’d have to remember that.
Once finished with the crystals, the golem turned its empty eye sockets toward the other items. Mandibles, fangs, shells and other monster body parts it ignored. Its attention was wrapped up in the pile of armor and weapons.
While watching the golem dig through the scrap metal, an idea sprang to mind. I took ten dark orbs from my backpack and turned them into sparks of the otherworld.
As soon as that happened, the golem shuddered and turned my way. Once finished digging in the scrap heap, it stood to full height and came up close to me. Based on the emotions the spirit rolled over me, if the golem’s mask could move, it would be smiling.
“Try this out,” I mentally suggested.
Gingerly pouring a few dozen sparks into the golem’s bronze hand, I watched it carefully cover the glowing pile with its other hand.
A quick flash and the sparks were gone.
I looked at the description of the golem’s characteristics and smiled in satisfaction. My heart started beating faster.
“Well, how’d it go?” Murk asked me in a near whisper, standing at my side all that time.
“It worked!” I announced. “Its figures are shooting upward!”
Murk smiled ravenously.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That it can help us improve all the other golems?”
The albino nodded and gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. After that, he turned to the other foxfolk and commanded:
“Bring the rest of the shards here, approximately the same amount! Also tell everyone that we need dark orbs! Lots of them!”
While Murk handed out orders, I ran another darkness purging and gave all the resulting sparks to the golem. This time the absorption took a bit longer. And the result was more modest, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was that the spirit had just raised the golem’s characteristics by a few levels. It did what we had been trying fruitlessly to do for several days. And who cares that the Great System is still ignoring it? The outcome is all that really matters.
The spirit took quite a long time absorbing the third batch of sparks. Out of sheer excitement, I prepared it a few hundred right away to keep it busy.
“We must send word to Newtown, the fortress, and Brown,” said Murk. “Have them bring all their orbs to us.”
I wanted to respond, but a noise outside distracted us.
“They sure figured it out quick,” Murk muttered.
The door flew open and a heavily breathing foxman appeared in the doorway.
“What happened?” Murk asked anxiously.
“The patrol is back from the valley!” he exhaled heavily. Meanwhile his expression made it clear something had happened to the trackers we sent out there.
Leaving the golem to deal with the pile of resources, we went to the gates where the scouts were waiting.
“A horde of necromorphs!” the tracker told us right away. I recognized this foxman. He had been in Chris’ squad but, not wanting to remain in the Stone Forest, had returned to Foreston.
The tracker and the other scout were covered head to toe in mud. He also reeked of death and blood.
“How much time do we have?” Murk asked quickly.
“Three days...” the second man rasped out after he finished greedily drinking water from a skin. “Even less...”
I felt a vile chill run down my spine.
“Where are the others?” Murk kept up the interrogation.
The scouts just turned their heads in silence.
“We got caught in an ambush,” the first said dismally. “The flying beasts appeared out of nowhere. We gave battle, but there were too many of them... The commander ordered us two to retreat and send you word...”
Murk brought his hand down on the man’s shoulder.
“You did exactly right...”
A heavy silence hung for a while. I could practically feel the growing tension in my skin. Behind me the city was getting ready for bed but, in less than an hour, this fearsome news would turn it into a batted beehive.
“How many are there?” Murk finally broke the silence.
“A lot!” the second scout exclaimed with his eyes wide open. “Tens and maybe even hundreds of thousands! They’re like a black sea flooding the valley! But that’s not all! We saw huge flocks of flying creatures filling the whole sky like fearsome storm clouds!”
“You know me, Murk,” the first tracker rasped out. “We’ve been through a lot together... But I’ve never seen anything like this.”
He raised his head and looked Murk in the eyes.
“Foreston cannot hold out against such a powerful onslaught...”
The albino placed his hand on the tracker’s shoulder and, with a smirk, said:
“We will hold out, brother. Absolutely we will hold out. Who if not us? You just need to get some rest. You’ll see. Tomorrow it’ll be easier.”
The soldier lowered his head and breathed a heavy sigh.
Murk looked at the foxfolk surrounding us and barked fearsomely:
“What’s the hold up?! Get these two to a healer! Now!”
Not far away, lacking the courage to walk up, the scouts’ families were shifting from foot to foot. Their necks were craned, and they were standing on tiptoes trying to see who had returned. Based on the shouts and loud weeping, many already realized what happened. Families had lost husbands, fathers, and sons.
I clenched my teeth angrily and watched the trackers get led away. Women and children stuck to them like glue. A barrage of questions came crashing down on the poor saps from all sides. Shouts, weeping, children crying ― it all blended together into an unbearable cacophony.
As luck would have it, Zoe Weber’s face appeared before my eyes. The woman was looking at me sadly as if asking whether I remembered what she said.
With a quick head shake, I chased off the intrusive vision. No! I cannot get discouraged! Not now!
Suddenly, I felt someone touch my shoulder. With a shudder, I turned my head. Murk and I met eyes.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I took a look around. We were all alone.
“Like crap,” I winced and exhaled.
“I know,” he nodded. “It’s always like this during war. There’s no getting used to it. The only thing you have to remember is that it isn’t your fault those warriors died. You aren’t the one that killed them.”
It was as if Murk could see straight through me. I understood he was trying to reassure me, but it wasn’t working very well.
I breathed in heavily as if coming up from a deep well and walked off toward the main treehouse. Murk followed behind.
After a brief silence, I said:
“Gallia’s plan is no longer going to work. She thought the main blow was going to be struck against Stenborg. But Egbert decided to attack from all directions at once. Smack us all down at once.”
“We must send word to the queen before it’s too late,” Murk said.
“And to Newtown as well,” I agreed and added:
“Have Brown bring all the golems here except the ones linked to the castle’s supply all along. And tell him to be ready to bring his whole fifty troops here at any moment. Every warrior counts now.”
“Aren’t you afraid to leave the castle ungarrisoned?”
“Foreston is more important,” I threw out. “Same for the Newtown garrison.”
When we had all reached the door of the main treehouse, I stopped and glanced at Murk.
“Everyone not taking part in the battle must be sent to the other side of Narrow Lake without a moment’s delay. Pinebogey will take them in and offer them protection.”
“Many will prefer to stay,” Murk objected.
“That is their right,” I shrugged and stepped over the threshold.
“What about the golems?”
“Leave ten for the spirit to mess around with,” I said. “Link the rest to the supply and send them up on the walls.”
When we were all up on the top floor of the treehouse, I nodded toward the library.
“We need to get this all loaded onto carts down to the last scroll. Same for the treasure and laboratory.”
“You also think we won’t hold out?” Murk gave a sidelong smirk.
“If this army is being led by who I think it is, we’d better take precautions,” I replied seriously.
* * *
THE TRACKERS WERE RIGHT. The horde’s first advance parties appeared on the horizon three days later. Thanks to our scouts’ self-sacrifice, in that time, we were able to send every civilian to the opposite side of Narrow Lake along with our treasures, archive, library and laboratory.
Pinebogey was already expecting refugees and a few dozen dryads. I saw the warriors looking on calmly as their families disappeared among the trees. When you know your loved ones are safe, it’s easier to go into battle.
First, the flying necromorphs tested our defenses. A small flock tried to attack the city’s dome but were repulsed by the guard vines and archers crouching among the branches. That scuffle ended with almost fifty dead winged freaks and not a single wound on our side.
We realized the attack was just a small engagement compared to the upcoming battle. But it was our first victory. And victories, particularly without losses, can really raise a warrior’s spirits.
The second attack came at night. Twenty level-ninety wraiths. And there were a lot more beasts along with them. Our magic traps thinned the ranks of the undead herd quite a lot.
This time though, we did not escape totally unscathed. A few of the nimble and graceful creatures made it past all the traps then ran up to the ditch. At the wall, they managed to break through the vine barricade and start climbing up. And although only three of the monsters made it to the top, they managed to kill seven hunters and badly wound six more.
In that battle, the golems made an excellent showing, complemented by my new pets. Two bronze swordfighters cut one of the wraiths to smithereens in a matter of seconds. Honestly though, the creature managed to leave deep claw marks on one of the golem archers.
And those marks were what Murk and I were currently studying.
“These creatures are stronger than the ones that attacked Newtown,” I said when I’d seen enough. “This one was able to slash through the golem’s armor like paper.”
“I’m not even surprised,” Murk snorted. “Look how thin its armor is. The gnomes must have been trying to save on materials. Your keeper spirit’s swordfighters over there also took damage, but it’s just scratches.”
“They gave us junk to keep us from complaining,” Onyx tossed in her five copper. The foxmaidens were now trying their best to take part in every engagement. While the winged freaks attacked, the spotted one managed to take down six of them.
“Now, now,” I cooled her jets. “Don’t forget that these golems are from the bronze legion. The pride of the undermountain folk. The fact an archer had weak defense means only that they prioritized levelling other characteristics. Think about how the archers did against the flying creatures. I can see you remember. So there.”
They really had proven themselves effective on that day. The bronze archers shot down more beasts than anyone else.
A shout from a watchman up in the crown of the tallest sequoia made us whip our heads upward.
“They’re flying this way!” he shouted with all his might. “A lot of them! More than a thousand!”
We traded glances.
“Now the necromancer takes his first truly hard bite,” Murk said and added with a ravenous smile: “Lets tear out a few of his fangs to teach him not to bare his teeth at the wrong guys!”