Lord Sorcerer: Singularity Online: Book 3

by Kyle Johnson

  “Not necessarily,” McBane grinned. “I think there was a cathouse back in Stoneleague. Maybe if we score a ton of loot, he can pay someone to give him a kiss. I mean, if there’s enough in the city to convince a girl to do that.”

  Longfellow scoffed dramatically. “I’ll have you know, I haven’t had to pay for affection since at least our last logout. I wouldn’t have, normally, but my mum can be terribly stingy with her hugs.”

  Even Aranos laughed at that, and the awkwardness of the moment passed. “The gifts are welcome, Oathbinder – not that I would thank you in quite the same fashion as the Lieutenant,” Geltheriel said, her eyes twinkling with mirth, “but is there not an undead horde, as you called it, clamoring to meet us? Or did the two of you need a few more moments?”

  “There will be time later,” Saphielle declared nonchalantly, hefting her new weapon. “First, we will face this horde and destroy it. Then…” She gave Aranos a serious look, and he felt his face flush again. Fortunately, before he had to answer, the air shield fell. The earth began to rumble and shake as the next part of the Spell kicked in, and the players shared nervous glances.

  “What the heck?” Meridian asked, her eyes darting around. “Is there some kind of giant out there?”

  “One might recall that the second part of this Spell involves giant, stone spears erupting from the ground,” Rhys spoke with a deadpan expression. “It might be reasonable to expect that this will cause some disturbance. Of course, I could be mistaken.”

  “Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Meridian laughed. “Wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. I see what ya’ll mean about the Spells kind of surprising you.”

  Aranos stepped to the doorway – he’d cast the Spell carefully this time, making sure that the entire interior space was within the safe radius and that the effects ended at the doorway – and looked outside at the onrushing undead. Dozens of shambling jangshie and rotting ghuls were racing heedlessly into the Ward and were being obliterated by the eruptions of sharp stone from the ground. Still, there were so many of the creatures that after a few moments, they reached the point where the third part of the Spell would activate, and a curtain of flame roared to life, roasting the creatures and dropping their lifeless corpses to the ground.

  As he watched, Aranos grimaced; whoever was commanding these things knew what they were doing. The jangshie and ghuls were cannon fodder, designed to trigger the Ward’s defenses and use them up while the more powerful undead remained safely out of harm’s way. The lesser creatures would probably be destroyed – as he watched, the clouds of acid felled the undead in droves, while the curtain of flames rolled across them, filling the air with the reek of rotting, charred meat.

  “The enemy spends their minions recklessly,” Saphielle murmured, startling Aranos. The blue-haired woman had slipped up beside him and stood, watching the onslaught. After a moment, she frowned. “Or perhaps not.”

  “Yeah, they’re being smart,” Aranos acknowledged. “They’re using up their lesser troops to set off the wards. Once they fall, the more powerful ones will charge.”

  “What do you think they’ll do?” Phil asked from behind Aranos, looking out over the Sorcerer’s head.

  “If it was me, I’d send the rest of the fodder right at us, first. They’re not going to be much use in a longer battle, anyway, and if they can drain some of our resources like SP, LP, and Stamina, all the better. After that, I’d probably send in half of my shock troops – those big, rotting things, or maybe the ravants. If those could break through our defense, the battle will be over.”

  “And when that fails?” Saphielle asked.

  “Then it becomes a war of attrition, and the undead have an advantage in that. No stamina, no pain, and they never need food or rest. Their commander will keep hitting us with small attacks, over and over, never letting us rest but never committing too many of his forces at once. Eventually, we’ll get tired, and that’s when he’ll hit us with a full assault.”

  “So, how do we stop that from happening?” Phil said curiously. “I assume you’ve got a plan?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got an idea or two,” Aranos grinned. “A way that we can take the battle to them. And if it works, I think it’ll lead us right into the city.” He turned to face the others. “All we have to do is survive.”

  Martina moved in Stealth through the tunnel, although she wasn’t really sure if it would even be useful. So far, the undead they’d met had mostly been able to spot her through her Stealth, which meant that either their Perception was really high – which was possible but didn’t seem likely, since most of their sensory organs were half-rotted – or they had some Ability to sense her that negated her Stealth. Still, it made her feel better, so she did it. Having the ever-silent Monetta creeping behind her, also in Stealth, didn’t make her feel good at all, though.

  Martina had no idea how the Rogue had located this hidden tunnel. The entrance had been so perfectly disguised that, even with her decent Perception, Martina hadn’t spotted it until the silent Rogue had pressed a hidden latch and the entire side of a tree opened with a click. The tunnel was wide enough that the whole party could have walked abreast through it with room to spare. It was obviously artificial; it was paved with smooth stones and the walls had been heavily polished at one point, although time had broken most of the stones and pitted the walls.

  Just as obviously, the passage was frequently used by the inhabitants of the city, which was what was making Martina nervous. They hadn’t encountered any of the undead denizens of Antas, yet, but they could at any time, if she was reading the myriad tracks around them correctly. She could tell that whatever had made them was humanoid and barefoot. Although she had no idea how many creatures had passed through or exactly when they did it, she could see that it couldn’t have been too long. Dust hadn’t had a chance to settle in most of the prints, which she felt might have made them less than a day old. There were a ton of them, though, and as far as she could tell, most of them seemed to be heading out of the city, not back in. That should have made her feel better – if a lot of creatures were heading out, that meant there would be fewer inside for them to deal with – but she wasn’t reassured in the slightest.

  To be honest, this whole thing felt off to her. What are the odds that Monetta would chance upon this tunnel after only a couple hours searching? she wondered silently. And what are the chances that we’d arrive less than a day after a mass exodus from the city? Something wasn’t right; there were too many coincidences, and Martina didn’t really believe in coincidence. At least, not much.

  Her searching eyes caught a flash of a green, glowing light up ahead, and she halted as she spotted it. “Something up there,” she murmured to Monetta, who had halted right behind her. “Stay here. I’m going to go take a peek.” Without waiting for the woman’s response, Martina moved ahead as silently and carefully as possible.

  The tunnel opened to a large room that looked as if it might once have been a living area. Stone benches lined the walls, and what looked like a dried-up, dead fountain in the shape of three crumbled figures occupied the center of the room. The entire space was filled with a green radiance that seemed to come from nowhere but filled the air, nonetheless. Several passages led off the main area, but the one directly opposite Martina was filled with the same eldritch light that hovered in the main room. Martina watched for a while, searching for signs of movement. When she saw nothing, she sighed and stepped one foot into the room. Instantly, a red notification flashed in her vision, and she retreated with a curse:

  New Region Discovered: Fallen Realm of Antas

  Corruption Level: High (6 CP / day)

  Necrotic Zone: This region is filled with necrotic mana, sapping the life and vitality of all living creatures. Any living creature entering this zone loses 1 point from each of their Physical Stats, plus an additional point per hour within. Spells, Abilities, or Perks that prevent Corruption do not prevent necrotic damage. This damage can only be healed by restorative m
ana and cannot be healed within the Necrotic Zone.

  For entering a Necrotic Zone, you have taken: 1 point Str, Dex, Agil, and End damage.

  Martina swore as she realized that if they wanted to use this tunnel, they were all going to take a ton of Stat damage. She turned and headed back down the tunnel, not bothering with Stealth. If there were any undead nearby, they were probably in that room or the tunnel nearby. Martina was willing to bet that the undead weren’t affected by the necrotic zone, making it a perfect place for them to ambush potential invaders.

  She stopped as she reached Monetta, who dropped out of Stealth as Martina neared. “There’s some sort of damaging zone up ahead,” she said shortly. “Keep watch while I go let the others know.” The silent Rogue gazed at Martina with flat, dead eyes but nodded her head in acquiescence. Martina shrugged off the shiver she always felt when she locked gazes with the mute woman and slipped back to where Liam and Hector were waiting.

  When the Ranger explained what she’d found, Liam’s lack of reaction confirmed her fears. “You knew about this, didn’t you?” she said flatly, her voice accusing.

  “I suspected something like this, yes,” he shrugged. “It simply means we’ll have to limit our trips into the city and rest outside at night. I think you can both handle these undead with only a point or two off your Stats, and if not, well, that’s what summons are for.” He smiled at the woman, who didn’t return the expression.

  “This is the sort of thing you need to share if you want us to work with you,” she said flatly. “Like the fact that you knew where the entrance tunnel was all along.” Hector looked startled as she said that, but she saw him puzzling it out, and after a moment, his eyes flattened with understanding.

  Liam gazed at the woman appraisingly. “Okay, fine. Yes, I’d learned about the escape tunnel. There’s a Loremaster in Adenvale that was an expert on the elves, and I visited him before I came to Stoneleague. He told me about the tunnel.”

  “Adenvale?” Hector murmured. “That’s at least five days travel. You didn’t have time…”

  “One of my summons can run very fast,” Liam smiled, interrupting the Warrior. “Before you ask why we aren’t riding it, I’ve only got one of them. It can carry Monetta and I, but no more. Still, it got us from Adenvale to Stoneleague in two days.”

  “So, what else did you learn?” Martina asked skeptically. Liam’s story might have been true, but she doubted it. More and more, she was convinced that Liam was playing a deeper game here, and that she and Hector were along for a specific reason she couldn’t quite fathom. “Come on, spill. If you went to this Loremaster, then you were always planning on coming here, even before Aranos’ Quest. Why? What is all this about?”

  “You don’t have to be pushy,” Liam snapped. “Fine. You want to know why I wanted to come to Antas? I’m looking for a temple.”

  “A temple?” Hector repeated disbelievingly. “Nope, not buying it. There are plenty of temples back in Stoneleague…”

  “Not like this one. Antas was the center of learning for this world, back in its heyday. It was also a place where any race was welcome, which meant most of the great temples were here – including the one to Maeve Beastborn.”

  Hector looked at Martina, who shrugged helplessly. “I never learned the myths of this place, sorry. Who’s Maeve Beastborn?”

  “Queen of the beasts, Mistress of Animals,” Liam said a bit derisively. “Her priests were supposed to be the greatest Summoners in the world, but they were also reputed to be somewhat – feral. They were usually relegated to small shrines outside of city walls. There were only two major temples to her, and this is one of them. I’m hoping to plunder it and find an Advanced Class that will make me the best Summoner in the game. Then, I’m going to challenge that Aranos and prove I’m the best Wizard in the game. That enough for you?”

  Martina looked at Hector and nodded, making a subtle gesture with her hand. Hector’s eyes went blank for a moment as the Ranger turned back to face Liam.

  “Fine, we’re still with you, although we expect you to use what you know about this city to find us Advanced Classes, too. Fair enough?”

  “More than fair,” Liam smiled. “However, if we’re going to find the temple, we’ll need to get moving. Don’t worry; from what I’ve read, the necrotic damage should fade with a night’s rest. We’ll go in for a couple hours at a time and head out to heal before the damage can get ahead of us. Is that okay?”

  Martina nodded, but in her head, her thoughts were whirling. Liam was lying to them; she didn’t know how she knew that, but she was sure of it. Hector had gotten her signal, though, and his blank face meant that he had done what they’d planned.

  Now she only had to hope that Phil wasn’t too busy to read his messages.

  Chapter 12

  The undead crashed upon the tower once more, their decaying bodies flailing wildly as they sought to claw and tear their way through the defenders holding it. Lumbering, skeletal ravants lashed out with slime-coated bone claws, trying vainly to punch through the shield wall, while shadowy nurhuins attempted to slip past the defenders and steal their strength and life. Waves of death and void magic roared toward the humans and elves, seeking to sap their energy or paralyze them.

  Once more, Aranos saw, the assault would be turned back. The void energies slammed into a soul-enhanced barrier of light mana and shredded themselves upon it harmlessly. The freezing aura of the nearby draegs was countered by the ball of flame Rhys had conjured within the tower, and the nurhuins couldn’t penetrate the life ward Meridian had erected. The brutal assault by the ravants, without support from the other creatures, was doomed to smash futilely against the shield wall. Geltheriel had taken Silma’s place at the door for this assault; the attackers were most vulnerable to piercing weapons, which could puncture the internal organs dripping in plain view within the creatures’ torsos, and it was hard for the fenrin’s teeth to reach them safely. Instead, the celestial wolf used her teleport Ability to jump randomly out of the tower and savage the supporting draegs and nurhuins with her light-enhanced teeth.

  Once the attackers were fully engaged, Aranos nodded to Longfellow, who opened fire on the distant vangolor casters. The creatures were protected by a shimmering barrier of void magic, but Aranos had enhanced the Archer’s heavy crossbow with light damage. Combined with the inherent armor-piercing traits of the crossbow, the Spell allowed Longfellow to puncture the magical barrier quickly and fell the distant casters.

  Aranos launched another Fire Burst on the group in between the tower and the edge of the clearing. The seven globules of fire spread out over the undead and burst a few feet above the ground, layering the area in a short-lived wave of roaring flames. With the weakening effect the Redeemed ground had on the monsters, very few of them survived the blast. Only the giant, pus-dripping corpses survived, but at least his attack hadn’t caused their boils to burst open. The party had learned that those pulsing nodules were filled with tiny worms that, once released, would quickly grow into foot-long, colorless centipedes that swarmed over anyone nearby, even other undead. Their bites were venomous and rotted flesh that they touched painfully; while they were easy to kill, there were usually a lot of them swarming the party at once. Fire attacks, Aranos had discovered, would not only damage the giants but would cauterize the boils and kill the worms inside.

  They’d endured this assault for two hours. The undead would crash into them for ten minutes or so and then recede for five or ten, probably to reinforce their numbers for the next assault. They marshalled within the tree line, out of Aranos’ sight, but Silma had darted over there several times to scout them and reported that the bulk of the creatures were remaining hidden, as if they were waiting for something. To Aranos, that meant that the undead commander had some Spell or minion that it was counting on to shatter their defenses, but it hadn’t arrived, yet. Aranos thought he knew what the commander was waiting for – most likely sunrise – which gave him a strong idea of what w
as about to happen. Now, he just had to hope he’d planned accordingly for it.

  The party had stood in shifts during the assaults; Stamina, SP, and LP didn’t regenerate quickly in the middle of combat, even with Aranos’ Aura of Vitality making that possible. Rhys and Meridian swapped out as active healer, allowing the other to rest and regain SP, and the Warriors at the door rotated in and out to regain lost Stamina and LP. Aranos spent his down time meditating in spurts, channeling mana from his crystal and his boosted SP regen in preparation for what he thought was coming. As the night wore on, and still no mass attack was forthcoming, he took advantage of one of their respites to call the party together.

  “Based on what Silma has been seeing,” he told the tense group, noting the streaks of blood and spatters of gore staining all of them, “I’m pretty sure that the commander on the other side is waiting for dawn to launch its biggest attack.”

  “Dawn?” Phil repeated, his voice unsure. “I mean, wouldn’t that be when its troops are weakest? It seems to me that if they haven’t beaten us by dawn, they’ve lost.” The others nodded their heads or murmured their agreement, but Aranos shook his head.

  “That’s what I was thinking, too,” he admitted. “If we just held until dawn, we would win. But the more I think about it, the more that doesn’t make sense. If that was the case, why wouldn’t the undead have hit us right at nightfall? They lost hours of time they could have used to break us. Plus, why hasn’t the commander committed his reserves? There’s maybe an hour until dawn; at this point, even if he does a full-out assault with everything he’s got, we’ll probably hold long enough for the advantage to turn our way.”

  Saphielle frowned as understanding showed in her eyes. “I understand your thoughts, Redeemer. The commander of the undead has led them with care and cunning to this point; why would it behave so foolishly in other ways? It must be acting with a purpose, and that means it must intend to fight past dawn.”