"The undead are pushing forward with their plan, which will be in place by dusk today. All movable personnel will be stationed before the sun goes down today," Prince Xander ordered.
There were some hushed murmurs from the larger group today, but it was Lauren who silenced them. "We do not know why, but the undead are moving…unexpectedly. We all guessed that the undead would wait for this…plague to spread amongst our ranks, but they are deciding to strike now for some unknowable reason," she explained.
Bowen nodded in agreement and confirmed by saying, "I sent one final scout last night. Before dawn, I found the undead moving erratically and pushing toward the front lines, including their elites. The undead had even ceased their ungodly construction of a fourth battering ram for no discernible reason."
"Is it possible an even greater threat has yet to show itself? Something that could even disrupt the undead horde? Does anyone have an idea as to why the undead may be acting this way?" Prince Leopold offered an explanation.
Prince Leopold's words resonated with me slightly as I thought back to Deguzman's prophecy. Even to his standards, something abnormal would come, and we would have to face it, or it would spell doom for everyone. And it was an inevitable confrontation at that.
"It's impossible that reinforcements have arrived so soon. Even an expeditionary vanguard force that launched immediately would have struggled to make it here in time. And even if they did, they would be small in number, and we would have no way to usher them into the city safely," Marshal Cloudsun said.
"Yeah, there were no powerful monster sightings in the region either. None that would pose a threat to a horde this big, let alone a single Lich. Maybe a new dungeon popped up because of all the death happening, but…I can't see anything strong enough to shake the undead into action coming out of it this early," Guildmaster Elora added.
"Regardless of the reason, we have no choice in the matter and will use this to our advantage. If the undead are being forced to act rashly, then all the better for us. If no one has anything left to say, then everyone is dismissed. Orders will be sent within the coming hours," Prince Xander stated.
No one had anything else to add, so the short meeting was adjourned. Afterward, many people mumbled unfamiliarity with each other as confusion and unease spread amongst everyone. This siege was slated as a long, drawn-out process, even with an offensive attack at our own risk. And with a still unknown disease spreading quickly, people grew worried. Yet somehow, it was the undead acting as if time was not on their side.
That was a discerning change of events that was sure to unnerve anyone. After all, what could spur such a large undead force into acting so hastily? I had only rudimentary guesses, and none spelled out good news for us.
She was asleep before the meeting was called as she had the late night shift the previous day. But I couldn't lie to her.
Cerila ponded something for a moment before giving me a serious look and asking,
I raised an eyebrow at her question. I didn't think it deserved such a severe look from her, but I nodded and signed,
Cerila smiled softly and just signed an okay. < I will go back and rest some more since I have the time. I'll see you tonight?>
Cerila left to go back to her room, and I looked over to find Sylvia, slightly frustrated. I thought that it was because I was talking to Cerila, but I soon figured out why.
"Still not the best at Sign Language?" I asked.
Sylvia rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, but a faint blush hit the tips of her ears. "It—it's nothing. Just…you two are so fast, so it's hard to keep up sometimes…"
I chuckled at the cuteness and said, "Then I'll make sure to slow down more next time."
Sylvia scoffed at me more in embarrassment than anything and started to walk away a little faster. But I stopped her and asked, "Are you prepared for tonight?"
She abruptly stopped and turned her head slowly. Her crimson eyes told me all that I needed. "I am. Bowen won't be dying tonight. Not on my watch. So you better kill some Liches for me."
"I'll save a few just for you."
—
The afternoon came and went quickly. The entire city was hustling as the defenders took their positions. Every section of the wall around the city was fully manned in preparation for the counterattack. The undead had indeed mobilized their full force. Our plan was simple: we would use the magic item to decimate the undead forces. Then, most of us would use Gryphons to drop us directly at the front line to hunt any surviving Liches. But that was only after.
I viewed the battlefield as the lone Corpse Golem had new comrades. Another half dozen joined their ranks. Two of the golems were pulling two of the three "battering rams" into the field, stomping through and crushing their allies to death with every step. We aimed to strike them as they would divert to other wall sections and destroy them while they remained grouped. The third battering ram had yet to reveal itself, so its whereabouts were unknown.
But Bowen was correct in his accounts. The gross monstrosity that resembled the battering rams was a mockery of life itself. Even from atop the walls, I could see just how horrendous they were in their appearance—disgusting amalgamations of what seemed to be hundreds of bodies combined into a single, writhing mass. Arms, faces, and every matter of body parts squirmed against the rotting flesh. The entire flesh contraption moved on hundreds of tiny legs. Even the actual battering ram itself seemed to be one giant bone.
It was truly a revolting sight.
I shook my head and turned my attention to the congregation. Many of us had gathered at the Western gatehouse to prepare the weapon. Lord Vasquez carried an iron crate that was surprisingly small to the battlements. It was chained and locked up tightly. Disregarding the noise of the undead, the constant twang of arrows, and the explosions of magic, Prince Xander moved toward the box and started to unlock the locks with a set of keys.
It only took him a moment to undo all the locks, but once the crate was opened, I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Put under lock and key that only a prince of a nation had access to was an even more unassuming item than the crate itself. It appeared to be nothing more than some wind instrument made of wood.
There were no engravings, symbols, or anything special about it, indicating that it was a dangerous weapon that could wipe a battlefield clean or take the life of the user. It could have very well been a toy that a child had, and none would be the wiser.
But that was only at first glance. Through my Dragon eye, I could see that the item held an immense amount of mana. It appeared to me as a pure, white-hot rod of metal straight out of a forge. I had never seen so much mana packed into such a small item, which left no doubt that it was as dangerous as we were told.
Prince Xander took a deep breath before carefully handing Bowen the item. He looked regretful, to say the least, but Bowen graciously took the item and stood at the front of the gatehouse looking out at the undead horde. Sylvia walked up to him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and gave him a firm nod. Bowen smiled softly in return, but the worry was evident on his face.
"All you need to do is simply blow into the end of the device like an instrument," Lord Vasquez instructed.
"Hold until the order is given, Master Bowen. We need the undead to come closer," Prince Xander ordered.
"I understand. And yes, Your Highness, I shall await your command," Bowen said with a bow.
We all watched the city's Western side with bated breath as the hulking Corpse Golems shuffled forward, dragging their heinous siege engines forward. I had yet to see any Liches myself, but I was certain they were waiting amongst the rank-and-file undead as my Soul Sigh had found at least two blips of powerful mana sources amongst the horde.
After moments of tense waiting, the undead arrived just outside our siege weapons range. But unbeknownst to them, they were in the strike zone for our weapon. Prince Xander raised his hand, but before any command left his mouth, a blur burst from the group, headed straight for Bowen.
It was too fast, and even Lord Vasquez struggled to react in time to the unsuspecting movement. In a flash of golden lightning, Thrandil had knocked both Sylvia and Bowen away, snatching the dungeon item for himself. My heart sank as I, and I'm sure everyone else, suspected the worst that he would betray us and use the item to strike the city. But to our shocked surprise, he imminently leapt onto the battlements, facing the undead.
"Make sure someone writes a ballad about this!" Thrandil shouted.
He placed his lips on the item as everyone rushed toward him, but it was too late. I could only watch in slow motion as I inhaled deeply. However, nothing happened. Thrandil had suddenly stopped mid-breath.
Sylvia had gotten up and put a hand out to stop everyone. "I've got it," she said.
She strutted over with an annoyed look as she stood behind Thrandil. "If you wanted to sacrifice yourself so badly, you should have said so from the beginning. And even though you are a bastard, you are still family. So I can't just let you die."
Ah, I see…
A small line of blood dripped down from the back of Thrandil's arm. It was clear that Sylvia had struck him with her magic and stopped him from moving entirely. I had not expected him to take the item and use it in an attempt at self-sacrifice, and it was clear everyone else was just as surprised.
"But since you are set on it, why not go through with it?" Sylvia said as she bit into his shoulder.
Thrandil flinched against Sylvia's power, but he could not combat it. That was until his body started to move on its own, clearly against his will as he fought back.
"This is for never saying hi to me, Grandpa," she mumbled.
Thrandil put his lips to the item, and his body moved, blowing directly into it. A loud pinched hum echoed from the item as visible mana swelled around the simple wooden instrument. I didn't dare use my Soul Sight in fear of just how much mana was truly present but it was clear to see what was happening.
Despite Sylvia locking him down, Thrandil yelled in pain. Contrary to what was reported, a violent storm of mana surrounded them both, knocking everyone near them aside. But the mana's source wasn't from the dungeon item but Thrandil himself. It appeared his mana was trying to rip him apart in a maelstrom of blue mana.
Sylvia was stuck in the middle of it alongside him, and heedless to the storm, she remained firmly attached to him during the entire process. Blood poured out from her eye sockets, and the pain etched into her face was unmistakable. But the storm grew ever more until it consumed both of them. My heart sank in my chest and I was moving long before I commanded myself to do so.
Regardless of whether it was a good or bad idea, I walked forward.
If things didn't improve, I would rip Sylvia free and save her. Even at the cost of his life. I had little to no feelings for my maternal grandfather; even if it sounded harsh, it was just the truth. Sylvia was far more important to me, and I wouldn't let her die for his sake.
As I reached the edge of the storm, I had to use gravity magic to root myself to the ground. Every step forward felt like I was fighting the power of a raw typhoon. Whether it be the raw winds itself or the item manifestation of mana, it cut the skin on my face regardless.
The wind buffeted against my armor as I broke through the gale. But as I saw Sylvia and Thrandil again, the storm suddenly stopped, and the two of them fell backward onto the stone walkway. I rushed toward them, and thankfully, both of them were still breathing, albeit unconscious. Relief washed over me in an instant.
This is what it must feel like for everyone else when I do something borderline suicidal…I should probably avoid that in the future.
I sighed deeply as Lord Vasquez was approached. "They are… alive?"
"Yes…they are both alive," I answered.
A deep sigh of relief came from the War God, but the shouts had already begun as people pointed to the undead horde. I picked up Sylvia and looked out at the battlefield. A small white sphere had appeared in the sky and continued growing into a large ball.
Then it happened.
The sphere expanded into a blinding light that consumed even sound as it expanded and exploded into a giant wave. It did indeed remind me of a nuclear strike as the expanding wave consumed everything in its path. The shockwaves rolled past us, threatening to knock everyone over.
But when it was all said and done, and sound returned to the world, the battlefield was nothing more than an empty, smoldering crater. The undead, the abhorrent battering rams, all of them were gone without even so much as a speck of dust left in their wake.
The blast zone was massive, but unlike an explosion, it had not spread damage very far. There were still hundreds of thousands of undead crawling around, and Northern and Eastern hordes were untouched. Regardless, the damage was significant, as hundreds of thousands of undead still remained. They still outnumbered us greatly, but it was by far the most decisive blow yet.
"To the Gryphons! Find the Liches and slay them all! For Luminar!" Prince Xander roared.
The crowd roared back, and Sylvia stirred in my arms. "Did it work?"
"It did. Both of you are alive, and the undead took a devastating blow. You did great," I told her.
Sylvia chuckled to herself. "Good…damn bastard…almost ruined everything for nothing…stupid old man," she groaned as her eyes rolled back into her head.