by Ink Bamboo
Seeing this, the prince frowned in a pained manner. “Kill those bastards!” he ordered. “Don’t let the lives of your comrades go to waste!”
Slowly, soldiers from the back started replenishing those who fell before them, pushing the line of the fight further into the fortress. As things were, the tide was turning in the prince’s favor. If things continued this way, it would end in his victory.
Perhaps there was still hope for victory.
In the past, the kingdom’s army had never managed to get this far. They were often blocked by the royal family’s lack of commitment and the nobles’ lack of support. The internal divisions of the kingdom had created the perfect ground for the rebels’ expansion. It was the king’s change in attitude along with the Church of Light’s message that had finally gathered all the conditions necessary for the prince to mobilize most of the troops.
“My lord,” said Johan, summoning the prince’s attention back to the battlefield. “What’s that?”
As a butler, he wasn’t someone who had ever been blessed with medical reagents to increase his strength. Given how he had lived a life serving inside the castle instead of adventuring in the world, his senses couldn’t be compared to those of the prince. That, however, meant nothing in the face of experience.
The prince turned to look at what Johan was pointing, noticing a black sheet of fog expanding from the place his troops were towards him. It made him feel a slight sense of discomfort. Almost like his body itself rejected the existence of the miasma forming in the battlefield.
“Magic?” he asked himself in disbelief. Nyx didn’t have any court magicians, but he had witnessed a few wandering mages achieve similarly surprising phenomena. “Since when do the rebels have mages on their ranks?”
Focusing his senses, the prince did his best to look over the battlefield, trying to find the mage responsible for the black fog. Even someone as inexperienced as himself could tell the presence of a spellcaster would spell trouble. Mages were known as the kings of the battlefield for their vast destructive power, and he wasn’t going to just sit around when one was making a move.
Eventually, his gaze landed behind the destroyed gate. There, he noticed a group of almost ten individuals standing together behind the soldiers fighting his troops. There was someone slightly ahead of them on his own with both of his hands raised together, seemingly grasping something in between them.
Pushing his sight to its limits, the prince was able to discern small amounts of the same hazy black fog flowing from his hands. Looking at him, he was almost able to discern his mouth as it moved and spoke a single word: “Arise.”
Almost immediately, a wave of dread hit his mind alongside his body. It was a similar feeling to that he got when looking at the miasma, only a hundred times more intense. It made him want to puke, and to his surprise, it even summoned an instinctual sense of fear. Thoughts about abandoning the battlefield started to build up on his mind. Before long, he had to consciously suppress both of those desires, dry heaving in an undignified manner in their stead.
“Over there,” he said, pointing the way to Johan and the file of archers behind him. “Shower that bastard in arrows!”
His order, however, was ignored.
“I said, kill that bastard!”
“My lord…”
“What!”
Turning to look back, the prince saw Johan and the archers behind him turning a ghastly white. Their hands were trembling and some of them had even dropped their bows. Only Johan barely managed to recover himself, raising his hand to point at the battlefield.
Following Johan’s hand, the prince turned to look at the battlefield instead. There, he slowly found his troops losing ground.
The reason for the turning tides was evident. At the pits dug around the battlefield, at the backlines of his own troops, and even at the fallen gates — everywhere he turned to look, soldiers he had considered dead were now rising to their feet, weapons gripped in rotting clutches as they took over control of the battlefield.
“What in Vita’s name is happening?”
Chapter 23
Hunt.
Every life has an end. Whether an individual manages to make that ending something he can make peace with or not, is something that lies in his own hands. Much in the same way, death on the battlefield mattered more to some than others.
In Zaros’s case, he stared at it all in apathy, watching as arrows rained down upon enemy soldiers and reaped their lives. He had no sympathy for those men, and even less for the one leading them. In fact, if not for his end goal, he would have already stepped forward to accelerate the process.
Seeing them fight so vigorously brought in him the desire to go out and claim their lives for himself, to get even for what he had seen their kind do to the people he cared about. Be it his village or the Town of Sol, Zaros knew the kind of people the nobles and the royal family were. In his mind, those serving them were no better.
However, wish as he may, it wasn’t his turn to step into the battlefield. He had been summoned along with Jan and seven other officers to the back of the gates, commanded to be ready at any time. It was his duty along the other ‘volunteers’ to mobilize the undead once Arkus commanded it.
Like that, Zaros had been able to witness the most gruesome part of this battle without getting his hands dirty. The army of undead commanded by the dark marble had mechanically killed most of the invaders attacking the fortress, eventually pushing them back outside. Only through sheer numbers had Nyx’s army been able to hold for this long.
A game of numbers, however, wasn’t Nyx’s biggest strength at the moment. It was theirs. Once Nyx’s army incapacitated a sufficient amount of the undead, Zaros had heard Jan give his group an order.
“Ok, it’s time. Channel your energy inside the marble and raise more from the corpses in the battlefield. Let them learn the true meaning of despair.”
Zaros witnessed as the burly man holding the gem did as told, raising his hand as an endless stream of miasma flowed towards the entrance of the fortress. There, numerous corpses from both sides started absorbing the grey fog into their bodies, slowly standing up as they joined the other undead in battle.
Disgusting, he thought to himself. As much as he hated those on Nyx’s side, Zaros knew those on the rebel’s side were not any better. Robbing people of the peace of their death to achieve their goals was something he considered truly deplorable. It painted them just as badly as the group from the Church of Death he had previously met.
The only thing keeping him from trying to stop them was Amro’s instructions to wait for a better opportunity. After all, stealing the gem in the middle of the fortress guarded by Arkus and hundreds of troops was easier said than done.
It won’t be long...
Eventually, Zaros’s thoughts were interrupted as the man holding the marble collapsed into the ground. Fortunately for him, two of the other officers standing with them were able to catch him time. That being said, they were probably more worried about losing the gem than ensuring his integrity.
“Good,” muttered Jan. “I counted a little over eighty. Let’s see how many the rest of you can manage to raise before collapsing of exhaustion. Next!”
A sinister smile had appeared on the old strategist’s face, causing Zaros to frown in disgust. Unlike the officers next to him, Zaros knew the meaning hidden behind that expression. Amro had already told him the cost of using the marble that the council had hidden from them.
“You should just enjoy the show, boy,” said Amro, noticing the mood of his partner. “I promise you he will be dealt with when time comes.”
“I understand,” replied Zaros. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”
“Have I ever failed you?”
As Zaros was holding his conversation with Amro, a woman stepped forward. She was second in line according to the order they had decided upon the day before. Without caring for the burly man’s wellbeing, she stepped on his wrist, causing him t
o open his hand as she grabbed the marble held within.
“My turn,” she said, excitedly looking at the massacre happening ahead of their group. “You better not let me touch the ground if I faint.”
“Hurry up!” ordered Jan. “We have no time for idle chatter.”
The woman turned around, dismissing Jan’s concerns with a snort. Immediately, she raised her hands as she channeled her energy into the marble and repeated the word spoken by the man before her: “Arise.”
According to what Jan and Arkus had told them, simple commands like those helped with the use of the object.
More of the dark miasma flowed from her hand, moving towards the battle now happening outside the gates. Lacking corpses to fully consume it, the fog spread further along the battlefield, entering the pits where Morgan and the troops stationed in the fortress had hidden the bodies from previous encounters against Nyx’s troops.
The effect was almost immediate. The cacophony of grunts and screams in the battlefield rose by an order of magnitude along with her words.
“Next!” ordered Jan, noticing the woman holding the gem swaying from side to side.
“Don’t you dare!” retorted the woman, falling to her knees. “I can still continue.”
For her, this was a matter of pride. As an officer, if she failed to reach the standard set by the one before her, she would become an object of mockery.
“Whatever,” said Jan, shrugging as he prepared to let her have her way. She was dead either way. “Wait for her to kiss the ground, then whoever is next can take over.”
Foolish, thought Amro. The damage on her soul is severe enough. If she continues, she won’t even get a chance to reincarnate.
However, before she could continue, one of the officers standing next to Zaros stepped forward. With a hit from the side of his palm, he quickly made the woman pass out. His impatience was made obvious as he stated his intent.
“We have no time to waste,” he said, taking the gem from her hands. “It’s my turn.”
Truly a group of fools, thought Amro, laughing to himself.
“Don’t worry, kid,” said a man next to Zaros. “We will leave some scraps for you.”
Zaros turned to look at the man, causing chills to climb down his spine. For a moment, the man could’ve sword he saw a pair of fully black eyes looking at him with disdain. After blinking a few times, however, he only saw a pair of amber eyes in their stead.
I must be imagining things, he thought.
✽✽✽
“My lord, I must insist. We have to escape while we still have time.”
“Shut it, Johan! I won’t be known as a coward who runs away from the battlefield. You can run if you want, I’ll deal with you once I return victorious to the kingdom.”
“My lord, please. You can’t be this blind. Those rebels have allied themselves with the Church of Death. We need to go report this to the churches in the capital. It won’t be too late to come back and stop them with their support.”
*Slap!*
“I told you to shut it!”
Standing at the back of the battlefield, Nyx’s prince was pushing his brain to his limits. In a matter of minutes, the battle had changed for the worse. Following the black fog that had spread out from the fortress, several dead soldiers from both sides had sprung back to life.
Think! What can I do?
Seeing his soldiers losing ground, the prince knew he was running low on time. So far, the black fog hadn’t shown any signs of dissipating. Every soldier he lost added another to his opponents’ side. To make things worse, the archers on the walls had always focused on his backline. With undead aberrations rising from every lost soldier, his troops were now trapped in the middle of two undying forces.
He already knew what the right choice was. If he didn’t order a retreat, it wouldn’t be long before they reached the point of no return. If that happened, all his soldiers would be turned into loyal troops for his opponents.
“My lord, there is no time, please…”
“Damn it!” said the prince, reaching a decision. “I’ll make sure these bastards pay for using underhanded means.”
“My lord, are you saying…”
“Yes, Johan, order our retreat.”
As much as he tried, the prince could see no way to win this battle. Trying to conserve the last remaining bits of his pride, he placed the disgrace of ordering the retreat onto his subordinate.
“Retreat!” roared Johan, turning his own horse around. Ever since he had first seen the black fog, something inside of him had been consistently telling him to run. It was as if his very soul dreaded being turned into one of those creatures.
Echoing the old butler, the archers standing next to him shouted the order as well. The sooner the troops moved back, the faster they would all escape from this nightmare.
✽✽✽
Arkus stood still on the walls with Morgan to his side. A sneer was tugging at the corners of his lips, displaying the schadenfreude he felt for the prince and his troops. As he watched them struggle, he finally broke into laughter.
“Do you see this, Morgan?” he asked. “We haven’t deployed a single soldier and they’re already at the end of their ropes.”
“Surprising, indeed,” answered the crimson-eyed officer. “Should we prepare the troops to give chase? Even someone as arrogant as the prince will realize he has no choice but to escape.”
“Do you think it’s necessary?” mocked Arkus. “Look at them, they’re losing tens of soldiers every second. The prince and his father are worthless without them to intimidate those they’re against.”
“I do think it’s necessary,” said Morgan, trying to help Arkus see reason. “If we capture the prince, we will have a strong diplomatic tool at our disposal. You don’t intend to barge into the capital with this horde of undead, do you?”
“Damn it,” said Arkus, realizing his old friend had a point. Commanding the death of thousands had sparked the bloodlust he kept hidden from outsiders. “You’re right, I’m not entirely sure Richard wants to start his new rule like that.”
Immediately, he walked to an archer an extended his hand. “Pass that on to me.”
Pulling the string on the bow a couple times, Arkus smiled. “This should be enough,” he said. Immediately, he pulled the bow taut and aimed it towards the prince’s direction.
“You should probably avoid taking his life,” reminded Morgan. “We can’t do diplomacy with a dead man.”
“Have you not seen what we’re doing below these walls?” mocked Arkus.
“Fair enough,” conceded Morgan. “He’s more useful alive, though.”
“Just get some troops ready to retrieve him,” said Arkus. “I never miss.”
Nodding his head, Morgan jumped back down from the walls, ready to command his own men into the fray. Most of the rebel soldiers had been waiting behind the walls since the battle had begun, ready to be deployed. They had been promised they wouldn’t need to risk their lives so long as one of the undead soldiers remained alive. As such, they had been able to witness the massacre in their favor ever since the door to the fortress had fallen.
As Morgan hit the ground, he heard a faint call for retreat from beyond the walls. Not a second after that, the sound of a string snapping overwhelmed his hearing. That was probably Arkus.
“Holy Vita,” he said, recalling past training exercises. “That brute keeps overdoing it.”
Not losing another moment, Morgan made his way to where the troops were stationed. He was not afraid the prince would be taken away. Instead, he was afraid Arkus would be unable to control his own strength and commit a blunder because of it.
With quick steps that belied his age, he arrived where the cavalry were stationed. There, fifty men sat ready on their horses. So far, there had been no need for them to participate in the battle. His orders, however, were about to change that.
“Cavalry!” he called, turning the eyes from the horse-riders to himself. �
��We have a mission from the captain.”
“Yes, sir!” they saluted, ready to comply.
With a savage smile, Morgan mounted his horse. “We’re heading out for a hunt.”
Chapter 24
Excuses.
“What do you mean you missed?” asked Richard.
“I just missed,” repeated Arkus, shrugging his shoulders. “The bow snapped.”
“I’ve seen you shoot,” said Nolan, raising his brows in doubt. “You never miss.”
“Well, I did this time,” replied Arkus, slamming his hands into the table. “You got a problem with that?”
“What if I—”
Opening her fan to cool herself, Katherine interrupted their conversation. “Calm down, boys. There’s no changing anything now.”
Deep inside the command tent, the council was convening a meeting. Just an hour ago, they had won their first major victory against the kingdom. They had forced their enemy forces to retreat, allowing no more than a hundred of them return alive. In the midst of it all, Arkus had aimed for the prince with his bow, failing to hit his target.
“I just don’t get how he can confuse the prince with an old bag of bones. What use do we even have for a butler?” questioned Nolan, defiantly standing up to Arkus. Despite the difference in their strength, he was not someone to shy away from a fight.
“Well, it’s not a complete loss,” said Richard, sighing in defeat. “We can torture the old man on our way to the kingdom. A castle’s staff is always the most informed about its state, so it’s very likely he knows at least one thing that can be of use. How are the preparations for departure, anyway?”
“Almost done,” confirmed Jan. “We didn’t lose any men when giving chase to the prince, so there was very little to prepare. The injured will stay behind. In any case, everything is ready. I had already accounted for our victory.”