The sound of muffled whimpers drifted through the air, the result of the hundreds of hooded slaves that had been bound to wooden stakes ringing the center of the enclosure. His Confessors bowed their heads in acknowledgment as Alexion started making his final rounds. Several white-robed zealots had been assigned to each sacrificial pier, and they spared an occasional kick at the bound slaves.
As Alexion walked among the slaves, his heavy plate armor clinked gently, and his hand rested on his jewel-encrusted scabbard. He had splurged a bit on equipment, purchasing the best platemail he could find from among the city’s vendors and the player market. He was also loaded with potions and consumable items, his health, strength, and mana increased considerably.
Alexion stopped directly in the center of the courtyard. A crimson pentagram had been painted on the ground in blood, and the posts formed a rough circle around the macabre drawing. This is where it would happen. Right here. This is where he would finally transcend the rest of the players and become something more – just as the Lady had promised. The hollowness in the back of his mind threatened to overwhelm him as he contemplated the culmination of his carefully laid plans.
His gaze shifted to the troops lining the walls and the interior courtyard. They watched him expectantly, their expressions warring between fear and avid devotion. He spoke loudly, his voice carrying over the courtyard. “Hear me, men and women of the Crystal Reach. Today, we make history. Today we will conjure and kill the god of our enemy – the Twilight Throne. We will face the Dark One himself and show him the power of the light.”
A cheer rose from his soldiers’ ranks, cascading through the air. Yet he could still see some of his followers shifting anxiously. He could certainly understand their hesitation, but the Lady had insisted that her spells would bind the Dark One. As long as he stood within the pentagram, she had promised that Alexion and his troops would only need to end the god’s miserable life.
“This is only made possible by the Lady’s light,” Alexion continued, his voice booming through the air. “With her blessing, we will finally be given a chance to strike at the heart of our enemies. To claim our place as this world’s strongest empire!”
Another cheer came from his soldiers and the hollowness pulsed and throbbed in the back of his mind. Alexion drew his sword, the metal scraping harshly against his scabbard. The blade shone brightly as he held it aloft, the fading rays of sunlight refracting off the metal in a kaleidoscope of color.
“We all know what will come next. We will sacrifice these lowborn – who were complicit in helping Jason’s schemes and machinations. Their bodies will be given back to the light.” The slaves struggled harder against their bindings at this explanation, and one of his confessors stepped forward, slamming his fist into a recalcitrant slave’s stomach. The bound man gasped feebly and bent forward, hanging from his restraints and unable to resist.
“When the Dark One appears, he will be front and center,” Alexion continued, unperturbed by the violence. “Do not hesitate and do not give into fear. The darkness takes many forms and may seek to corrupt your spirit. Give yourself over to the Lady and place your faith in her and her alone.”
Alexion looked around at his soldiers, hesitating for a moment. “For only through the light can we vanquish the darkness!” he shouted.
A resounding cry echoed through the courtyard as his soldiers and Confessors shouted their faith into the sky. Overzealous nephilim released bolts of light into the air, the projectiles ricocheting and fragmenting, creating golden motes of energy that drifted down over the courtyard.
It was time.
Alexion gestured to Caerus on the wall, and the noble began signaling the nephilim and Confessors. The first of the funeral piers was suddenly engulfed in flame, fire curling around the sacrifices bound to the wooden column. The men and women let out muffled shouts that quickly turned to ear-piercing screams as the flames melted through their clothing and their gags. The other piers soon followed until the air above the courtyard was filled with smoke, ash, and the cries of the dying.
Through it all, Alexion stared at the pentagram in the center of the enclosure, watching as the lines began to glow with unholy crimson energy. A manic smile was painted on his face, and the malignant voice in his head was practically screaming in glee. He gave himself over to the sensation – letting the hollowness wash away any lingering trace of hesitation.
He wouldn’t fail here. He couldn’t. He was unstoppable, and the game world was about to tremble at his actions. He would make certain that everyone knew his name – Alexion, the Godslayer.
***
Frank and Jason arrived back at Falcon’s Hook nearly a day later. It had taken Jason much longer to prepare his new minions than he had anticipated. He had barely used half of the corpses in the caves, and he had rigged together skeletal carts to carry the remaining resources, summoning temporary zombies to load the carriages and Death Knights to pull them.
The pair now strode at the head of a column of undead. They didn’t bother to hide their presence on their return to the city, taking the main roads to save time. Vilewings hovered overhead, their claws crackling with electric energy and the monstrous creatures occasionally letting out a piercing cry. Jason had primarily summoned Death Knights as his secondary troops, the hulking warriors leaving deep footprints in the dusty roadway as they plodded forward.
Any players stupid enough to challenge the caravan were killed instantly, the Vilewings swooping down to grab the offending player before racing back into the sky. A moment later, a body would slam against the road, the player’s limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Then Jason would have his minions load the fresh corpse on the wagons. After a few of these demonstrations, the players had wised up and stopped challenging his forces.
The company arrived back at Falcon’s Hook in the middle of the afternoon, the sun just beginning its descent toward the horizon. The guards at the gate stared at the column of undead in shock as they approached, and the crowds of players funneling into the city moved off the roadway to let them pass. Yet their hands lingered on their weapons and Jason caught more than one errant whisper mentioning the bounty on his head.
We need to be careful, he thought as he watched the players carefully.
When they reached the gate, one of the guards raised a hand to catch Jason’s attention. “S-sir, I have a message from Riley,” he stuttered.
Jason held up a hand, ordering his minions to stop. The Death Knights immediately moved into formation, creating a shield wall around the wagons and Jason. Their thick ivory shields slammed heavily against the dusty road, and the players along the roadway backed away quickly.
“Speak,” Jason ordered. The man edged toward the line of undead, keeping a wary eye on the skeletons who stood rigidly at attention.
“Riley told me that she has prepared the defenses along the cliff wall and she has requested your presence upon your return,” the man said. “I understand that we… we don’t have long before the invasion reaches the cliffs.”
“I appreciate you passing this information along,” Jason said with a nod. He opened his bag and flipped a gold coin at the guard. “For your trouble.”
The soldier bowed his head and muttered his thanks, backing quickly away from the road to let Jason’s caravan pass. Meanwhile, the players along the road murmured and whispered to each other in shock as they witnessed Jason enter the city unharmed. Perhaps they were unaware of Original Sin’s temporary authority within the city.
“This makes me uncomfortable,” Frank said quietly, eyeing the other players. “Even with your minions and the city soldiers, we’re heavily outnumbered.”
Jason nodded in agreement, slowing to a stop. Frank was right. They would need the players’ cooperation in the upcoming battle, or they would be fighting a war on two fronts. He needed to ease their fears – even if it didn’t convince them all, maybe it would discourage a few from betraying his group.
“My name is Jason, the rul
er of the Twilight Throne,” he called out, turning to face the players. His voice carried over the roadway. “Original Sin temporarily controls this city. If you wish to participate in the city’s defense, move to the cliffs along the city’s eastern edge. Anyone seeking to hamper or harm the defense of Falcon’s Hook will be killed immediately, and their equipment will be confiscated on behalf of the city.”
The murmuring among the players increased in volume, many staring incredulously at Jason or shaking their heads in confusion. He didn’t blame them. It was only through a happenstance series of events that his group had been able to obtain this position of power. He hesitated at this thought, the image of the Hippie’s face flashing through his mind’s eye. Well, perhaps it hadn’t been entirely random.
Seeing that the players were making no move to attack, Jason gestured for his minions to continue forward. Their heavy footsteps soon echoed through the air, accompanied by the creaking sound of the ivory wagons, their beds piled high with corpses. Right now, Jason was flush with power – nearly a hundred minions encircling him and dozens of corpses rolling along behind him. That might change soon.
It took Jason and Frank a considerable amount of time to reach the cliffs. Falcon’s Hook was packed. Hundreds of players had poured into the city over the course of the last in-game day. Men and women walked along the many ramparts running between the buildings. They milled along the street and flooded the market – likely purchasing last-minute gear and equipment in anticipation of the battle.
When they did finally arrive at the cliffs, Jason’s mouth dropped open. Riley and Eliza had been busy. Green and purple-liveried soldiers lined the area in neat ranks, each man armed with a heavy spear. Behind them stood archers in formation, longbows held in hand and their quivers overflowing with arrows. Meanwhile, the players stood further back from the cliff, having formed into loose groups based on their friendships and guild affiliations.
Soldiers and players immediately turned to stare at Jason’s undead as he approached, and the players reached instinctively for their weapons – hesitating as they noticed that the city’s soldiers made no move to intervene.
“Jason!” Riley shouted, running over to him with Eliza in tow. The sea of players grudgingly parted to let them pass, seeing that the two women were flanked on either side by a band of city soldiers.
Good, they’re being cautious, Jason thought.
“What took you so long?” Riley demanded as she approached.
Jason rubbed at the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension in his muscles. He knew the sensation wasn’t real and likely only signified that his real-world muscles were cramping. He could already feel the fatigue associated with staying in the game for so long, but he had no choice. He was going to have to push through.
“We needed to regroup and summon some minions,” he explained gesturing at his Death Knights. The minions I left behind went a little… well, crazy with the corpses.”
“I can see that,” Riley commented, looking at the heavily-loaded wagons. “Are these the only minions you brought along?” she asked as she surveyed the Death Knights.
“Not quite,” Jason replied. At a mental command, the Vilewings landed on the roofs of the buildings near the edge of the cliffs. Their skeletal claws shredded the tiles on the rooftops, splintering the wooden material as they flapped their unholy wings and their soulless black eyes stared at the nearby players and soldiers.
“What are those?” Eliza asked with wide eyes. Her surprise was mirrored on Riley’s face.
“He’s calling them Vilewings,” Frank replied with some amusement at the girls’ reactions.
“I can see that you all have been busy too,” Jason commented, gesturing to the soldiers lining the edge of the cliff.
“Yeah,” Riley replied glancing over her shoulder. “Why don’t we give you a tour to bring you up to speed? We don’t have much time left.”
“Sounds good,” Jason agreed.
The city soldiers moved to form a protective circle around the group as they stepped away from Jason’s undead. He ordered his minions to secure the small courtyard near the cliffs, placing the wagons in the center and encircling them. He commanded the Vilewings to stay with him, but to keep their distance. The skeletal harpies lingered on the roofs of the nearby buildings.
“As you can see, we ordered the city soldiers to man the cliff edge – spearmen to the front and archers behind. We also created a makeshift barricade along the interior buildings,” she said, pointing to the debris lined up between the wooden structures. “We wanted to have a second line of defense if we get pushed back from the ledge.”
“Smart,” Jason commented, realizing that the barricades might explain why the city felt so crowded. Riley had essentially closed off a bunch of roadways. “I’m not certain I could have improved on that plan.”
“I’ve been taking notes,” Riley replied in a dry tone, a small smile curling her lips as she glanced at Jason. “But the fun part is what we did to the ramparts and the docks,” she added, moving over to the ledge. “You’re going to love this.”
Jason peered over the edge of the cliff, noting that a thick sheen coated every wooden surface, slightly reflecting the waning sunlight. “What am I looking at?” he asked.
Riley gestured at Eliza to explain. The water mage pushed back her glasses with a finger, before speaking up shyly, “Before we sailed to Anguine Isle, I had been experimenting with flammable oils.” At an odd expression from Frank, she added quickly, “As a water mage, I have no trouble with conjuring water and ice, but I occasionally have need for flame-based alternatives.”
“So, you coated the ramparts in this oil?” Jason asked.
“Basically,” Eliza said with a nod. “Alma and I have been working furiously to make enough to cover the docks. We also conscripted some soldiers to help with manufacturing.”
“What about the ships and docks?” Frank asked, waving at the handful of ships that still floated near the wooden piers at the base of the cliffs. “Won’t this oil destroy everything once you set it on fire?”
Riley smiled slightly. “Good question. Lord Cairn took possession of all of Lord Baen’s remaining vessels. Those are the ships you see below. The remaining fleet has left. He was much more amenable to my idea once it no longer endangered his own ships. Plus, it put him in a position to potentially flank the lizardmen.”
“The ships that are still docked are loaded with barrels of the oil, and we coated the decks in the substance,” Eliza said quietly. “We also outfitted one of the archer groups with flaming arrows.”
“Explosive ships,” Jason murmured, a grin creeping across his face. His dark mana pulsed and throbbed as he considered the benefit of those vessels.
“Damn, it looks like you really are rubbing off on us,” Frank said with a chuckle, slapping Jason on the back.
“That seems to be the case,” Jason replied. “This is great!”
Then he glanced over his shoulder at the groups of players that had lined up along the ridge. “What about the players? Have they cooperated?”
Riley frowned, her smile disappearing. “Not exactly. Some were willing to take instructions. We broke them up into different groups – melee, ranged, and support. However, most of them weren’t willing to listen to us.”
“She means that most of them are just assholes,” Eliza muttered.
Jason and Frank looked at her in shock, surprised by her language.
“What? They are,” Eliza defended. “They either threatened us or dismissed our advice and then insisted that they line up in whatever half-ass manner they had decided among themselves.”
“She’s not too far off,” Riley added with a chuckle. “Despite the realism of this game world, they’re treating this just like any other MMO. They’ve created smallish bands of their own guild or group members and plan to wing it – or something…”
Jason could see a group of individuals standing on the oil-coated docks belo
w the cliffs. “Like those people? Did you mention the oil?”
“They’re idiots,” Riley replied in irritation. “I confronted them and explained about the oil, but they still insisted on fighting on the docks. It’s like they don’t care whether they’re massacred. I’m honestly not sure how they survived this long.”
“Dissension among the ranks, hmm?” a voice asked from behind them. The group turned to find Lord Cairn approaching, a band of purple-liveried soldiers encircling him. He now wore heavy mail armor, and a steel helm adorned his head. “I thought you travelers were supposed to be blessed by the gods. My observations over the last day or two have not been that inspiring.”
Jason spared a glance at Alfred where the black cat stood nearby, his feline eyes resting on the horizon. It felt like the AI was using this as an opportunity to comment on human stupidity. “We are subject to our own faults, just the same as the residents of this world. We have our own grudges and grievances,” Jason replied.
“I can see that,” the Lord commented, glancing pointedly at a nearby group of players. They all had their hands resting on their weapons and glared openly at Jason’s group. Yet they made no move to interfere with the legion of undead and human soldiers lining the ridge.
“We will need to be cautious in this engagement,” Jason said. “If the players revolt mid-fight or start attacking my forces, we are likely to lose the city.”
Lord Cairn eyed him closely. “Our fates are intertwined then. Yet you and your group have already demonstrated that you are serious about the defense of the city. These other travelers… not so much. I will let my men know to keep a watchful eye out.”
“Thank you,” Jason replied. He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped short as a notification suddenly appeared in the air before him. A glance around the area confirmed that the other travelers and NPCs were viewing the same notification.
Awaken Online (Book 3): Evolution Page 48