War God's Mantle- Underworld

by James Hunter

  Now I knew how Necro Earl had got his army so fast. And it was positively Darwinian. Survival of the fittest was the order of the day here, it seemed.

  If Persephone’s info was accurate, the new batch of creatures needed at least six hours to grow into their full size. Then they needed training, which would’ve been another hour, and then an hour to march to Lycastia City through secret passageways. Which meant the churning mass of newly hatched creatures would be the next wave to assault us in eight hours’ time. I had to admit, everything about this place was gross and horrifying, but damned if Earl Necro Earl wasn’t one efficient son of a bitch. Credit where credit’s due.

  If all went well, though, those squealing hatchlings would never make it to dark.

  All around me, my ’Zons silently moved into position, guided by Asteria—who was finally in human form again—along with Myrina and Phoebe. My Battle Warden general ensured the front-line troops were evenly dispersed and concealed by the pillars, careful to remain hidden from prying eyes. Phoebe had the war machines and siege weapons set up in next to no time, creating overlapping fields of fire, which would allow us to mow down our enemies wholesale. We’d turn that courtyard into a killing field.

  Phoebe grinned at me when the last ballistae was in place, then gave me a nod. Showtime, War God. Dazzle them a little before you kill them. We came all this way, after all, so we deserve a good show.

  “When you strike them, when the time is right, we will follow,” Myrina said. Her faith in me felt good.

  I took a few deep breaths—in, out, in, out—steadying my nerves and focusing my will. This was it. What I’d come for. I exhaled, giving the godstone a little bit more leash, and snapped the reins of the chariot. The fiery horses burst into action, shooting out of the temple like a bullet fired from a sniper’s rifle. Riding high, the Helios Chariot gleamed. This was going to be fun. Necro Earl had no idea what was about to punch him in the face.

  “Hey, dickhead!” I bellowed, using a bit of my Divine Essence to give my voice a little extra oomph.

  Earl—marked by his heavy black armor and glowing green weaponry—spun in an instant, gaze locking on me. Even better, Antiope was beside him, which meant I wouldn’t have to track her down—she’d be easy pickings. Her hand tightened around the heft of her trident, her face contorting in a grimace. The ring on her index finger oozed a malignant green light. Her eyes flashed in anger. Or was that fear?

  Earl raised his skull-headed mace and pointed at me. “What in the fuck are you doing here?”

  The question echoed through the still of the morning. I liked the slight edge of panic in his voice. Earl’s army of arachnaswine, gimpy goblins, werewolves in glowing green plate mail, and serpent-tailed nagas all turned to look upon me, while harpies squeaked from above, clearly surprised by my sudden appearance.

  I raised Athena’s Spear and pointed it at Necro Earl. “Nope,” I called back to Earl. “We talked a whole bunch last time we fought. This time? This time, you and your little friends die. I’m not going to waste another word on you, you blue-falcon shithead.”

  I took the reins in my teeth and brought up the Inferno Shield. The chariot’s fire stallions knew what to do. They dove, hitting the ground and galloping down the temple steps. They hit the front row of spider pigs like a semitruck of flame and force. Squealing spiders turned into scuttling bonfires as chariot flames consumed them. In seconds, blackened husks curled around each other. Others were tougher. One spider pig scuttled over the corpses of his fallen brothers to launch himself at me. The pig-faced, eight-legged freak flew up at me, and I batted him away with the Inferno Shield. The scent of barbecued pork filled the air.

  The fire stallions charged on, carving through the ranks of my enemy like a hot knife through butter. Bullets from enemy Gatling guns sparked off my shield.

  Barbed arrows, launched from naga bows, rained down, but the feathered shafts turned to ash and embers around me, consumed by the raging flames coming from the fire stallions in front of me. An armor-clad werewolf darted in, hacking at one of my horses with a battle ax ... the blade simply passed through the mystical beast. The ax came away a melted, twisted mass of useless metal. I hurled a shadow spear into the werewolf’s heart, ending it on the spot.

  I didn’t pause. Didn’t falter, not for a moment. I smashed through the ranks, creating a burning path of destruction through the middle of the nightmare army. But I had another five hundred yards to get to Necro Earl and Antiope.

  It was time to up the ante. The Helios Chariot had the Sunfire feature. Once per day, I could turn it into a raging ball of fire, inflicting ten times the driver’s level of fire damage to all enemies in a fifty-foot radius.

  Flashing down through a menu of the Helios Chariot, I triggered the function, and the result was immediate and positively badass. The chariot burst into a supernova of destruction, white-hot flames, powerful enough to melt the stones beneath the chariot, engulfed me in an inferno of biblical proportions. The monsters closest to me were incinerated so fast I didn’t even smell their immediate destruction. The Helios Chariot continued its mad dash across the training grounds, racing toward Necro Earl and Antiope.

  But it was hard to see. Werewolves in their armor glowed red-hot before bursting into living statues of flame. Harpies lost feathers, becoming flapping, squawking torches. Those smelled like grilled chicken.

  I was a rolling ball of apocalyptic fire cleansing the city of evil.

  Finally, I leapt from the blazing chariot, skating into the air on my winged sandals. I held the Inferno Shield in my left hand, Athena’s Spear in my right. The War Blade whipped out of my sheath with a thought, then promptly darted down to engage Antiope. Her trident rang out against the War Blade, but that was soon eclipsed by the howling of berserkers dying slow, painful deaths and the squeaks of gimpy goblins suffocating as smoke and fire swept through the ranks.

  I hurled a shadow spear at Necro Earl, but he swept away my strike with a bone shield made entirely out of skull pieces, bound together by diseased green energy. I’d fought Necro Earl before, and I knew he had all manner of necromancy at his disposal.

  I took a quick second to look down at the destruction I’d caused. I’d cut a fifty-foot swath through the armies, taking out at least a quarter of the monsters. That was around 250 freaks in fifty seconds.

  Not bad for less than a minute’s work.

  Oh, you sweet, manly bastard, Phoebe sent. We’ll wait another minute before striking. Sorry, but this is just too fun to watch.

  Take your time, I messaged back. I’m just getting started.

  It was like I’d parted the Red Sea for a minute until the monsters crashed together once more in a desperate rush to get at me. Harpies flew at me, and I let my shield cook them alive or flung shadow spears, impaling them. They dropped from the sky like hailstones, crashing into the seething mass of frantic, hateful creatures below. A few crash-landed too near the monster generators, and the baby nightmares fell on them with tearing claws and razor-sharp teeth. Survival of the fittest.

  The Helios Chariot rolled to a stop—the fiery mounts rearing back, hooves pawing at the air and caving in skulls—and then let out one final blast of pure hellfire before winking out, the horses gone in an instant. That was fine, though. The chariot had more than done its job.

  I wheeled, War Mammoth Cloak flashing out, and skated away from Necro Earl until I was in the middle of his befuddled army, twenty feet up in the air. With a heave, I flung the Athena’s Spear into the ground, activating the Battlequake feature as it hit home.

  The shaft struck the cobblestones and a wave of primal energy rolled out through the ranks of Necro Earl’s army, stones buckling, fissures opening in the ground. In a five hundred-foot radius, creatures were blown off their feet as the fury of Athena’s power hit them like a tsunami. The weapon delivered twice my Miracle Damage, which meant each creature in the vicinity took nearly a thousand points of damage.

  Muscle-bound berserkers bleate
d like sheep and gimps convulsed into twitching corpses crushed like tin cans. Werewolves died without a single whimper, their bones shattered from the force of the blast. The wave of magical energy was devastating. Nearly every single enemy soldier took some damage because it was a five hundred-foot radius from the epicenter of the spear. Those closest absorbed the brunt of the attack while those farther back managed to dodge some of the worst effects.

  Still, I wouldn’t relent. I had the element of surprise on my side, and with the weapons I’d assembled during my trip through the labyrinth, I was damn near an unstoppable force of nature.

  I whipped the Crystal Scythe off my back and blazed through the sky.

  Any harpy that got in my way lost limbs, carved away with a flick of my wrists and a minor effort of will. They shrieked as they died, spinning down to the ground.

  The godstone thrummed in my chest. I don’t think it had ever been happier. This was going to be victory, total fucking victory. First Sunfire, then Battlequake, and now the Smiting could begin.

  As I sped toward Necro Earl again, the asshole thrust a green-fire mace straight up into the air and giant skeletal hands erupted from the ground, the oversized bony fingers frantically clawing, but the Combat Dodge feature of the sandals saved me from being swatted out of the sky. I spun, fleet-footed and preternaturally agile, positioning myself between him and the towering outer wall. Using my speed, I swung the Crystal Scythe one-handed, the Inferno Shield glowing like a hellish manhole cover on my left arm.

  Mind you, I’d killed half his army without using a single Divine Essence Point. I had power to spare. Poor guy.

  I didn’t just hit him. I Smote his ass with all the power I could muster. The shit heel went flying, flipping through the air like a boneless ragdoll. A hundred of his monstrous force went flying right along with him. The Smite ability was an AoE attack, so everyone got the goodies. A werewolf had his arms torn from his body by the ferocity of the miraculous attack. A gimp simply exploded, splattering everything around him in gore. A mule kick of force lifted Antiope from her feet and hurled her into the wall.

  The War Blade—fighting with a mind of its own—zipped in and hacked at her gut. If she hadn’t been wearing thick armor, clearly reinforced with potent magic, she would’ve been cut in half.

  As for Necro Earl ... The dude was in bad shape. His helmet was gone, his mace and shield had been effortlessly ripped from his hands, and he’d taken a direct shot from the Crystal Scythe in the side.

  Blood gushed from his nose, running in twin streams down his stupid face. “That was good, Jakey,” he coughed, his mouth red. He grimaced, winced, tried to fight his way upright. “That was real good. I admit, you’re a little less of a bitch than I remember. You have all the fancy shit now. Fuck.” He blanched and grabbed at his side, trying to staunch the flow of blood. “This ain’t over. Not by a long shot. I’m not going to stop until I shove Deathbringer up your ass.” He reached a trembling hand toward the spiked mace, which lay in the bloody dirt half a dozen feet away.

  I floated down, dropping into the Helios Chariot without saying a word. A few hundred monsters came for me. It was almost laughable.

  With a grunt and a muttered incantation, the mace rose into the air and shot into Necro Earl’s outstretch hand. Antiope had somehow recovered from the Smite—what can I say, Amazons are some tough SOBs—and darted forward, ready to spear me like a prawn with her trident, probably another relic from the Olympian War.

  Not today. I activated Apollo’s Glory, another daily spell courtesy of the Helios Chariot. Before, the chariot had become a supernova of fire and force, but with Apollo’s Glory, it lit up like a solar flare. Suddenly, it was noon at dawn. You could almost hear the light, it was so bright. In a hundred-foot radius, every single creature grabbed their faces, shrieking in panic and pain as they lost their sight, blinded by my radiance.

  Antiope howled and tripped on a boulder that had come loose during the Battlequake attack. She slammed, face-first, into the deck and rolled across the stones, losing her grip on the trident. The War Blade swooped down.

  Necro Earl cursed. “Fucking fuck, motherfucker!”

  And around us the normal monsters let out a plaintive cry.

  What better time to unleash a storm of flesh-eating locusts on them? I reached out with my shield hand and the Divine Essence left me in a gush. From my fingers flew a cloud of emerald-colored insects with tearing mandibles and whirring wings. They hit the blind, writhing creatures in a wave and blanketed the doomed bodies of my enemies.

  Myrina’s voice erupted in my head. War God, you have nearly slain them all! Your warriors will not be pleased if we are not allowed some battle.

  Come on in, then!

  I watched with absolute satisfaction as my Amazons swept down from the temple steps, falling on the ragged remains of Earl’s horror-show army.

  Hell. I almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

  Excellent, but now I needed to get back to the matter at hand. With a flick of my wrist, I sent the War Blade into Antiope’s back. She let out a grunt of pain and blood splashed the cobblestones.

  The Inferno Shield blazed. The shaft of the Crystal Scythe was sweaty in my grip. I floated toward Necro Earl. Time to end him forever.

  Some days it’s good to be a god.

  Sometimes They Come Back

  I BATTED NECRO EARL’S mace out of his hands, and it rolled across the ground. He skittered back on his elbows and knees. Blood dripped down his face, speckling his bone armor—or what was left of his armor, at least.

  A hazy silver-gray fog covered the field, leftovers from my chariot’s Sunfire attack. The monsters continued to howl and thrash as my insect army gnawed into their skulls and bored into their exposed flesh. Those already dead stared with sightless eyes. The sheer number of the dead was staggering. The sunrise was as red as the cobblestones after the carnage I had delivered to this place. In many ways, the bloodshed was a fitting tribute for a temple to the god of death.

  Then ... Then my Amazons hit.

  They punched into Earl’s reeling forces like a runaway semi through season two of The Walking Dead. Powerful siege weapons engaged, the thrum of bolt strings, the clack-clack-clack of steam-powered Gatling guns. Ballista bolts skewered meathead beserkers. The Death Harvesters, on the temple steps, blew gimpy imps off shoulders, werewolf heads off necks, and harpies out of the air.

  “Wait!” Necro Earl protested, his eyes wide and wild as he scanned the battlefield and saw his inevitable defeat. “Jacob, come on, you didn’t play fair, man. You can’t sneak up on me like this. You can’t just fucking kill me! That’s some grade-A bullshit, bro.”

  My only reply was the crunch of my feet as I stalked closer and closer, the Crystal Scythe gleaming and hungry in my hands. This guy was such a worm. With a thought, I called the War Blade to me; the weapon thrummed through the air, coming to an abrupt stop just over my shoulder.

  Earl’s eyes flashed to the Amazons now removing the last of his forces, his grand army that would never again attack my city.

  “Or,” he stammered, licking his lips, “I can join you? Like a buddy cop team-up movie, dude. Have, like, a cool bonding moment, where we both realize that we’re not so different in the end. Just think about it, dude. Me and you, we can stop Hades from taking over the world. I mean, that was my plan all along. I’d get close to him and betray him at the last minute, double-agent style.”

  That was unlikely. I considered telling him that, but I didn’t want to waste a single word on the douchebag. Instead, I smiled and stormed forward, raising the Crystal Scythe, itching to kill the demigod of rot.

  A blur of motion dashed in from one side—Antiope, coming in for the last-minute assist. She tore across the fractured courtyard, snatching up Earl’s mace and tossing it to him with a pained grunt. Earl leapt to his feet and caught the weapon, a snarl ripping across his face. His weapon erupted into malevolent green flame ... the same color as Antiope’s eyes. And, unfortuna
tely, the traitorous Dark Amazon was only getting warmed up. She slammed the Vambraces of Boreas together, unleashing a beam of arctic power that washed over the floating War Blade, entrapping my sentient weapon in a block of ice.

  Antiope crept forward. She was dead—she had to be dead—after getting impaled by my sword. Her skin was waxen and her eyes were lifeless save for the green light flickering in her irises. Shit. That was the problem with fighting necromancers. You had to kill everything twice.

  All around us, the corpses I’d killed shambled back to life, retrieving weapons, ready for round two despite the fact that many were missing limbs or even heads in some cases. Most were blackened like catfish from a New Orleans bar and grill, yet they stumbled forward.

  Zombie Antiope was the worst by far, though. She raised her trident into the air. The disgusting sludge in the fountains by the gate whirled up in a cyclone. Baby monsters fell to the cobblestones, while the column of fetid ichor came at me like a fist. I hacked at it with the Crystal Scythe, but all I did was get wet. And slimy, because that was definitely not water. Another column of “water” swept at me, and this time I intercepted it with my shield, unleashing a wave of heat, hoping to evaporate the rancid goo.

  My plan worked splendidly; the black water gave way to a cloud of dirty-gray steam. Instinctively, I took a breath and found myself gagging and coughing, my Health lurching minutely from whatever toxins were in the water.

  I staggered back, and a big black dripping fist punched me like a heavyweight boxer on crystal meth. I went down, blinded by pain, unable to breathe, and in some deep shit.

  “Shoulda put me down when you had the chance, Jakey!” Necro Earl’s skull mace flashed again like green strobe lights at a Halloween party.

  I rolled away and got up, but then a tentacle of black water whipped the Crystal Scythe out of my grip. The weapon went flying through the air, clattering across the cobblestones, right in the middle of a dozen undead berserkers halfway across the city of the damned. A follow-up punch sent me sprawling on my ass, white stars dancing across my vision. I shook my head clear and gained my feet once more, using the brief reprieve to survey the chaos around me.