by Dante King
“Would the Lord of Light really choose to ally himself to the Death God?” I asked.
“Of course not. Then. have you commandeered a Church of Light naval vessel?” He looked at me with disbelief, and perhaps a little admiration.
“It’s mine now, yes.”
“Truly, you must be a powerful warrior,” Zhenwan exclaimed. “And you must be who the soldiers were looking for.”
“Those assrags were most likely looking for me,” I said with a nod.
“Then you have made a powerful enemy,” Zhenwan said. “The might of the Transcendent Sails is unequaled across the High Seas.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. What happened after those assholes boarded your ship?”
“Well, of course, the warship did not find anything illegal on our vessel, so they allowed us to continue. Things were uneventful for the next few days, until we encountered… it.”
“The kraken?”
Zhenwan gulped and nodded slowly, his eyes darting from side to side. “Yes,” he whispered. “The kraken.”
“How did you come across this beast?” I asked. “They rarely show themselves close to the surface when ships are around.”
“This is true,” he said. “And I was hoping that, in the course of our long voyage across the ocean, we would avoid running into one. The attack happened at night, so I did not get to see the beast too clearly, but I saw it rising from the depths of the ocean to swallow our ship, and that… that is a sight I will never forget, as much as I desperately wish to.”
“Vance,” Elyse whispered, taking me aside, “perhaps you shouldn’t be asking him to relive his trauma.”
I turned to Anna-Lucielle. “You can help ease Zhenwan’s nerves, right?”
She nodded, knelt down, and put her hands on Zhenwan’s temples. Once more I felt her Charm magic, calming, warm, and soothing, dance in the air. The fear faded from Zhenwan’s eyes.,
He was ready to tell his story.
Chapter Thirteen
“It was late at night that the beast came,” Zhenwan said, continuing of his own accord, in a much calmer tone of voice. “I am often afflicted with dream devils, and on that night, I couldn’t sleep. That, I believe, is one of the only reasons I survived. I got up from my bunk and went up on deck to get some fresh air and look at the stars. I was standing near the prow when I noticed two glowing lights in the ocean’s depths. They grew larger and larger, and I became quite alarmed; whatever was down there was rising to the surface, and it was coming up quickly. The lights were a bright, luminous blue, and as they got closer to the surface, they grew larger, like two enormous wagon wheels, and then bigger still.
“I ran to call one of the sailors who was on night watch and showed him the rising lights. His face went pale, and he almost fainted on the spot.
“‘A kraken,’ the sailor whispered hoarsely. ‘A kraken. The ship is doomed. We’re all doomed!’
“From what I knew of the creatures, they ripped entire ships apart, snapping them in half with their monstrous strength and pulling them down into the depths, where they feasted on the many drowned bodies. I guessed that the only way to survive the coming attack was to get off the ship.
“The sailor and I ran to the nearest dinghy while raising the alarm. That was when the first of the gigantic tentacles shot out of the water. Never have I seen anything as horrifying, as utterly terrifying, as those tentacles. Each was easily thicker than the biggest wagon you’ve ever seen, or the trunk of a 200-year-old oak tree. They were slimy and orange in color and looked much like squid or octopus tentacles, covered in suckers. There seemed to be an immense number of them, a dozen or more, all blasting out of the black water, writhing like snakes as they wrapped themselves around the ship.
“I felt a jolt like the biggest earthquake I’ve ever experienced, multiplied a hundredfold. The strength of the beast was beyond immense, and I knew that it would not take much for the creature to smash the ship into splinters. A group of sailors and I jumped into the dinghy and cut the ropes, dropping off the ship into the ocean, and just as we did this, we heard the terrified screams of the passengers inside as they woke to the sound and jolt of the kraken’s attack.
“A gigantic beak emerged from the waves, and a brazen roar louder than any sound I’ve ever heard tore through the night. The sailors and I, driven by sheer terror, paddled furiously to get away from the ship, all of us screaming and weeping like terrified children. The creature, praise Xayon, did not seem to care about us, though; it only wanted the ship.
“It pulled with its tentacles, its two bright blue eyes glowing like two evil moons in the darkness, and it cracked the ship in half. I will never forget the sight or sound of the passengers as they fell screaming out of the wrecked ship, like weevils from a broken biscuit, tumbling into the black water. The huge beast gulped them down with its enormous beak, its many limbs writhing like sea serpents as it pulled the pieces of the ship down into the depths.
“Within minutes, the ship and the passengers were gone, and the foul creature disappeared below the depths. The sailors and I had survived, but after our food and water ran out a few days later, many started to wish they had been killed by the kraken. One by one, they perished from thirst. Some drank seawater and went insane; others chose to kill themselves by sliding overboard and drowning rather than enduring the terrible death that comes from thirst. I was determined to cling to life. I prayed fervently to Xayon through my ordeal, believing, even when death seemed inevitable, that somehow my prayers would be answered, and by some miracle, I would be rescued. And now, surely enough, my prayers were answered. Praise Xayon, and praise you, Lord Chauzec, God of Death!”
“Sometimes, prayers are answered,” I said, “if you pray to the right gods.”
Zhenwan chuckled and clasped his hands together, then bowed his forehead into the knuckles of his clasped hands in a gesture of deep respect in Yeng, akin to kneeling before a king or a lord.
“Thank you, Lord Chauzec,” he said.
“Which direction did you come from?” I asked. “I mean, do you have a rough idea of how far you’ve traveled in the dinghy, and roughly where the kraken attacked you? You said earlier that you went out on deck that night to look at the stars. Do you know how to navigate by them?”
“Ah, very wise. You wish to avoid the area. Unfortunately, you will have to rely on luck to avoid the beast. I do not know how to navigate via the stars and have no idea how far we drifted on that terrible boat, or in which direction we came from.”
“The thing is, though, Zhenwan,” I said, “I’m not actually trying to avoid the kraken. I’m hoping to find it.”
Zhenwan’s jaw dropped open. “L-Lord Chauzec, did you not understand my tale? Did I not make the beast’s tremendous power and destructive might clear enough to you? The ship we were on was a little smaller than this warship, but I have no doubt that the kraken could destroy this ship just as easily. You must try to avoid the creature at all costs!”
“As you might have noticed,” I said to him, “my fleet is a little smaller than that of the Transcendent Sails’, and while I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, and some powerful friends, I don’t know if we could take on 50 warships as we are. I need a secret weapon, a weapon that can split a ship in half. I need a kraken. Two would be even better, and three would make me happier than a pig in shit.”
“You don’t understand,” Zhenwan said, “the kraken is— ”
“You had faith that you’d be rescued from that dinghy,” I interrupted him. “Despite how hopeless your situation seemed. Do you remember?”
“Y-yes, Lord Chauzec.”
“Then have faith that when I find the kraken—and I will find it—I’ll kill it, resurrect it, and make it the most powerful weapon on the High Seas.”
Zhenwan finally managed to force the incredulous look off his face, and he nodded slowly. “Very well. You’re right, Lord Chauzec. Against all odds, you rescued me from certain death. You are tru
ly a mighty god, the likes of which I did not know the universe to hold. Should luck, good or ill, bring the kraken your way, I trust you could kill it if you wished.”
At this point, Elyse tentatively interrupted, begging us to let Zhenwan rest and have something to eat. The conversation had run its course, and the Yengishman seemed to desire some rest, so I agreed.
“He can have one of the empty cabins below deck,” I said. “He could probably use a comfy bunk. And Anna-Lucielle, can you use your Charm powers to induce a long, restorative sleep?”
She nodded, and after Rollar had gently picked up the emaciated Yengishman, she and Elyse followed the two of them below deck. I paced the deck, allowing myself to get lost in thought.
With the news that there was a fleet of around 50 Transcendent Sails ships patrolling the sea looking for me, I was now more determined than ever to find a kraken or two. I remembered how, when my mind was in the body of one of my zombie sharks, I’d been able to sense the presence of other sea creatures miles away. I wondered if the whale could do the same, and if it could, I assumed it would have even more finely attuned senses, given the depths it could roam in. And down in the depths is exactly where it would have to go to hunt down my future zombie kraken.
I’d killed enough enemy troops in this first naval battle that I figured another skill would be ripe for the plucking on the Gray Tree. I closed my eyes, and in an instant, I was there, on the glassy black plain. Sure enough, a new skill was glowing in the upper branches of the Gray Sentinel. I’d long since learned that the laws of physics in the real world didn’t apply to this realm, and a thought struck me: why had I always wasted time climbing up the branches of the tree when I could get there much quicker just by jumping? After all, when I’d gone to see Isu’s withered tree, I’d covered a mile or two in a single leap. Surely the same principle would apply when jumping vertically?
There was no way to find out but to try. I tensed the muscles of my legs like tightly coiled springs and then jumped upward with all my might. I’d always been pretty good at running and jumping, but the highest I’d ever managed back in the real world was a couple of feet. Now, however, I soared up a hundred feet with ease and landed smoothly on the branch next to the new skill fruit.
The glowing three-dimensional image was one of a blacksmith at a fiery forge, but the flames were not orange. They were an inky black, and the anvil was made of bone. The blacksmith was a grinning skeleton, and his hammer was made of rotting flesh and yellowed bones. This was the ability to forge magic equipment, infused with Death magic, that anyone could use. Isu must have possessed this power when she’d been a Death deity, for it was she who had forged Grave Oath, the very weapon that had got me started on this whole journey.
I snatched the image from the branch like a greedy monkey plucking an overripe piece of fruit, and grinned as I felt the pleasing jolt of new energy rushing through my body. I backflipped off the branch and did a few backward somersaults on the way down, but the split-second before impact with the glossy black surface, I yanked myself back into the physical reality of the present.
I was immediately eager to test my new skill, so I looked around for something to experiment on. Now, up to this point, I’d been able to channel Death energy through normal weapons or magic weapons, but I had to be the one wielding them, as it was my body as well as the weapon that served as the conduit for the Death magic. What I had to do now was create Death weapons that other people could use.
My roving eyes fell on Drok, who was staring out over the water with a blissfully blank expression on his face, staring out over the water like a content cow chewing cud.
“Drok!” I yelled, snapping him out of this little trance. “Come over here, my friend!”
He swigged a mouthful of rum, tossed the bottle into the sea, and swaggered over to me.
“Yes, Vance?” he asked, eager to serve. “What you need? You say, Drok do!”
“Drok,” I said, “you love your battle-axes, don’t you?”
He reached over to his back and patted the blade of each one of his twin battle-axes.
“Beautiful weapons.” He smiled. “Drok love Drok’s axes.”
“They’re not enchanted, though, are they?” I asked. “They’re just regular steel axes. I mean, when you swing them, sure, they can take a man’s head off or split an enemy soldier in half, but there’s no magic involved, just brute strength.”
“Strong arm, sharp axe.” Drok flexed for effect. “Very good combination.”
“How would you like to make your axes even better? Maybe add some Death magic to those blades, huh?”
“Yes, yes!” he exclaimed, nodding his big round head enthusiastically. Then, however, a frown came across his face. “But Drok not know how to use magic.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “When I first started using Grave Oath, I didn’t know how to use any magic either. So, what I’m going to do for you, my faithful barbarian warrior, is give you a gift to thank you for all the fighting you’ve done for me. I’m going to enchant your axes with Death magic, and then you can wield this magic, without needing the knowledge.”
“Vance, can do that?” Drok asked, awed.
“Let’s give it a shot.” I gestured for him to hand them over.
Drok whipped the axes off his back and gave them to me. I held one in each hand, then closed my eyes. I knew all about channeling Death magic, but infusing a weapon permanently with it was something altogether new.
I focused on the steel of the axe blades and found myself thinking about it as if the metal was an open pit grave where I would dump a bunch of corpses. I wasn’t sure why this thought popped into my head, but it seemed to make perfect sense. Before, when channeling Death magic through myself, my fists, or some item, I had always thought of the object as a conduit. Now, however, I needed to think of it as a receptacle to pour the Death magic into and then store it. And, like a shallow pit grave full of rotting corpses, the Death magic would seep slowly like putrefaction from the grave, except that in the case of the weapon, some of it would be released with every swing, every impact.
Like the old throwing stars I’d used way back when I’d just started out as a necromancer, I figured the easiest Death magic to infuse the axes with would be a necrotic type of damage. It would spread putrefaction through the victim’s flesh and bones.
I reached out to the undead whale and channeled some of its Rot energy into the axes, visualizing the energy as gray, rotting corpses I was dumping into two mass graves. In my hands, the steel of the axe-heads became ice-cold, and the entire weapon thrummed with power.
When I opened my eyes, I saw that the gray steel of Drok’s axe heads had turned the same glossy hue of black as the blade of my kusarigama.
“Here you go, Drok,” I said, handing him the battle-axes. “You now have a pair of necrotic battle-axes. The magic will work against any opponent who isn’t Fated.”
“Ooh,” Drok said, delighted with his new weapons. “Death axes. Drok like new Death axes. Thank you, Vance!”
“I bet you can’t wait to go berserk with those babies,” I said with a proud grin.
“Yes, yes! With Death axes, Drok kill many, many enemies!”
Now that I’d successfully managed to enchant a pair of battle-axes, I glanced around for some other weapon to imbue with power. Something that might enable us to take down a kraken if my zombie whale discovered one.
My eyes were drawn to the ballistae mounted on the decks of the warship. Each of these fired a heavy 10-foot spear, capable of smashing through a ship’s hull. But for the kraken, these would be about as damaging as toothpicks.
But what if these toothpicks were infused with Death magic?
To take down the kraken, I needed Death ballistae on all five of my warships. These would also be pretty damn useful against the Transcendent Sails, so there was that too.
I walked over to the nearest ballista and put my hands on the bow section of the weapon, thinking that this was how
an ankle-tall pixie must feel when looking at a human weapon. The bowstring was as thick as the warships’ rigging and had a crank that two men had to operate to draw and cock the weapon. The huge, heavy spears the ballista launched also required two men to load—or one strong zombie.
“Yes,” I murmured, “a number of these, enchanted with my Death magic, will do the trick.”
Again, I closed my eyes and touched the weapon. I wouldn’t enchant the ballistae with necrotic magic. That would be useful against a living opponent, like the kraken, but wouldn’t do anything against warships. I needed something that would damage both types of opponents.
I hadn’t smacked anyone with my Plague Fists for a while, but I did remember just how much explosive Death power was contained in one of those fists. When I swung my Plague Fists at an opponent, the concentrated, channeled Death magic in my knuckles packed as much power as a man-sized war hammer swung by a Frost Giant. That sort of explosive impact was the kind of power that would allow the ballistae’s huge spears to punch through a ship’s hull. Hell, it might even provide enough power to burst through one ship, smash straight out the other side of it, and bust a hole through the hull of the next ship, and the one behind that one.
For this, I needed to access the ancient Death energy buried deep beneath the ocean floor. I sent my spirit plunging downward through the depths of the icy waters beneath me. Wherever things lived, they died, and there was plenty of life and death in the oceans.
I found it, a ton of it, on the ocean floor and below, where skeletons of fish, sharks, whales, and other things were buried below the silt. There were wrecked ships too, some a hundred years old, others a thousand or far older, and the skeletons of the sailors on them who had drowned. Plunging down deeper, there were the fossilized remains of other, stranger creatures, none of which I recognized.