Shale considered the composition of her forces. She was primarily in command of Lurkers, but there was a smattering of Enticers and Mystics along as support. The Mystics provided massive firepower should it become necessary, and the Enticers were there to keep her warriors in the fight. Barring that, they could also be used to inflict mental attacks on the enemy. The Lurkers, of course, were the main effort of her force. They would be used to ambush, assassinate, and reconnoiter the enemy. Shale intended to join them in their hunt. She had more advanced stealth capabilities than many of them. She didn’t plan on staying in the rear and leading the effort from some command post. Lynia could do the coordinating; her class and background suited her more for the position than anyone else. Shale would cause maximum destruction. The Scourge didn’t have weak leaders. In their tribal, animalistic structure, the weak would soon become prey to the strong.
The way nature intended, Shale thought, satisfied.
She and the Collective army should be reaching Ithicus at about the same time. She hoped that she could catch them before they had time to fortify the city. With her composition of forces, she should be able to wreak havoc on their lines. Over the last week, she hadn’t remained idle. In addition to producing more members of the Scourge and teaching them the Way, she had also been studying up on tactics. There was a small library located in the palace that had a variety of books in stock. She had seen Matek in there, referencing one subject or another on multiple occasions. As far as she was concerned, the politics of the Scourge were utterly uninteresting. She was a warrior, and a warrior knew to assess their areas of weakness and improve them. To be a great general, one needed to read about great generals. No one simply became a master tactician overnight. It required work. The degree of work and the output of that work was dependent upon a person’s natural capabilities, but that didn’t eliminate the need for old-fashioned studying.
She threw herself into the study of warriors. When she asked Matek for recommendations, he referred her to a few classic works. The first book she read was the Art of Battle by an eastern scholar. The tactics held within were a bit specific to the time in which it was written, but many of the lessons could be taken as metaphors for her coming conflicts. One piece of advice would be essential to the future fight with the Collective army.
“Be where your enemy does not think you to be and convince your enemy that you are somewhere you are not.”
Deception was a part of any conflict, large or small. Even Shale was familiar with the concept in her fighting. Sometimes telegraphing a punch was a set up for a more lethal strike. Many of the techniques she invented in the Way were based on deception. Many of the Scourge’s natural abilities lent themselves to it. Striking with a fist was only one of many ways in which a member of the Scourge could kill an enemy. They had a tail, claws, talon, fangs, acid, and magic to dispose of their foe. Weaving those abilities into one cohesive martial art had been a monumental task. She still wasn’t pleased with the result. She had to strip down many of the planned movements because she wanted the Way to be general enough that all of the different classes could learn it. She hoped the other leaders would take her foundation and build upon it for their respective warriors.
Do you notice something odd? Lynia interrupted her train of thoughts. If Shale were honest, she had been running on autopilot for the better part of a few hours. Once she had set a group of Lurkers to range ahead of them and had been able to keep track of them through the Scourgemind, she had let that part of her mind shut off while she considered everything else. It was a useful exercise.
Hm? Shale asked.
There’s something wrong with the forest, Lynia stated cautiously.
Shale didn’t slow her pace as she tried to clarify what Lynia was feeling. What’s wrong, exactly?
Haven’t you noticed we’re the only living creatures, it’s strange.
It’s winter, Shale replied. It’s relatively normal for there to be so few creatures around.
Not like this, Lynia replied. Even the mana signature in the area is muted. It seems lifeless.
Shale switched to her mana vision. She didn’t use the mutation very often. It was distracting and detracted from what was happening in reality. Additionally, using it around Slate when he shone like the sun in mana vision was hardly practical. In most other cases, their acute eyesight during the day and at night was more than enough. When she switched her vision over, she looked around and saw the rest of the Scourge in the dim forest. They shone like beacons as they moved through the woods in a quiet, deadly wave. Comparing Lynia to the rest of them, she noticed that the Mystics shone brighter than anyone. It took a few minutes of concentration, but Shale realized what Lynia was referring to.
Usually, the forest looked like a field of stars. Every living thing could manipulate mana to some degree. Insects, plant life, and even the trees had mana and biomass. However, most creatures had minuscule amounts. The complexity of an organism lent itself to the amount of mana the creature possessed. Now, the forest looked like all the stars had been dampened. They didn’t shine as brightly, and their mana flickered like waning candlelight.
That is strange, Shale admitted. But it doesn’t change the mission. We need to remain focused on the Collective and leave arcane anomalies well alone.
Okay, Lynia replied, distractedly. She seemed to be chewing on the subject in her head.
It looks like…she trailed off…we need to go in that direction.
Lynia sprinted off at an angle perpendicular to the rest of the army’s direction of travel. They were skirting the forest on their way to Ithicus, and now Lynia was angling north, deeper into the forest. Shale growled deep in her throat. They were deviating from the plan, and Shale knew that Slate would be furious. He would consider the deviation a minor betrayal, but Shale wasn’t Slate. She thought about what to do before finally signaling the rest of the Scourge through the Scourgemind.
Make an adjustment — northern heading. The First Mystic is taking the lead on this one. Her instructions were followed by an image of the running Mystic and the others adjusting their pattern simultaneously. Shale was more than a little impressed at the coordination that the Scourgemind allowed.
She felt appreciation flow through the bond between her and Lynia. Thank you, Lady Paramour, she said deferentially. I know this is important. Something in my gut is telling me we need to find the source of the forest’s corruption.
Shale considered her word choice. Corruption was a severe crime in the view of Lucidus. It didn’t matter if the corruption was political, spiritual, or the physical. The Lord of Light sought to expose every form of infestation to the light of day and destroy it. It was one reason that Shale believed in her. Maybe if Lucidus had been in charge of the Wyldwood instead of the ghost of Silvys, she wouldn’t have been treated the way she had. Possibly her parents would be alive. Perhaps, she wouldn’t be this--
No. I shouldn’t think of the past if it doesn’t help me in the present. I need to focus, she reprimanded herself.
As the running Scourge drew closer to the mountain ridge that separated the Wyldwood from the rest of the world, Shale noticed that the ambient mana was growing less concentrated. She found the experience somewhat worrying. She subsisted off of natural mana. To feel it receding was like feeling the breathable air leave the room. She felt her body working overtime to absorb and process the mana in the air. She switched over to her mana vision once again and noticed that there were even fewer lights than before. Even the plants started to look sickly and warped.
That wasn’t the only unnatural thing in the woods. There was a scent of rot and putrid flesh in the air. It was sickly sweet, but it made Shale’s stomach quiver in disgust rather than hunger. She had eaten plenty of corpses in her relatively short life as a member of the Scourge. She grew more concerned that whatever was affecting the forest was so disgusting that even her stomach didn’t want any part of it.
The deeper they traveled, the more warped and defo
rmed the woods became. Fluorescent purple growths began to appear on the trees. They seemed to jostle and twist as the various members of the Scourge passed them by. Shale was worried that this situation was much worse than it appeared.
Under no circumstances should you allow those growths to touch you, Shale warned. She felt determined assent through the Scourgemind as the various members slowed down so they could maneuver themselves carefully past the purple, luminescent growths. They were no longer leaping and swinging through the trees. Instead, they remained on the ground on their hind legs, ready for an attack. Once again, Shale was proud of the amount of coordination. She wanted to believe that the Way had something to do with it. She noticed that many of her progeny were in the ready stances that she had devised for them.
Just in front of her, Lynia slowed to a stop, and Shale came to rest next to her. The sky had grown dark, and the only illumination stemmed from the strange purple infestation that had taken over this part of the forest. The mountains stretched high above them, blocking even the moonlight from falling on the cursed location. Lynia looked around them somewhat fearfully before looking over at Shale.
There is something evil here, she said flatly. I can sense that the barrier between this world and the next has grown thin. It smells like Vallyr magic. I can recognize the scent from your memories in Standur.
Shale shuddered involuntarily at the reminder. Standur had been an inside look at Vallyr’s potential for depravity, and she had never seen soul-forged creatures like the things that dwelled within its boundaries. Even the shades in Bastion had seemed something otherworldly and disconnected. Objectively, she knew the armor that had been animated with souls had to be a form of torture for the souls that dwelled within, but somehow the fact that they were lifeless metal soldiers made them seem less monstrous. The creatures in Standur were entirely different. They were a dark reflection of life itself. They were twisted, barely recognizable forms. It was the transformation from life into a remnant of their former selves that made them so intolerable. It was like a mystical version of the uncanny valley effect.
We should continue alone for now and scout out what’s ahead, Lynia continued. I recommend we create a cordon around this anomaly so nothing can escape before we remove this blight from the world.
Shale nodded mutely. She obviously couldn’t sense whatever Lynia was sensing. Shale assumed it had to do with her connection to magic and the will of Lucidus. It wasn’t a great explanation, but those were rare when dealing with the supernatural.
Shale sent out a series of instructions through the Scourgemind. She could feel the rest of the Scourge arrange themselves according to her instructions. She was placing the majority of her forces, including the Lurkers, in the center flanked by two wings on either side of the formation. She placed the Enticers in the center of the configuration and Mystics on the edges. With any luck, Shale could pin whatever enemy was ahead in the center and smash it in a pincer movement with the wings on either side.
She signaled to Lynia that she was ready to move forward, and Lynia nodded quietly. They could have spoken through the Scourgemind, but sometimes knowing that their communication was silent wasn’t enough to feel comfortable. There was a heaviness that pressed down on them as they navigated their way closer to the moment that stood like a black silhouette directly in front of them. It was small comfort to the woman that they had an entire army backing them up.
As they went further, the trees became less numerous and eventually opened into a vast clearing. There wasn’t a single blade of grass beyond the invisible boundary between the woods and the clearing. In the center, a towering obelisk glowed with malevolent amethyst light. The pillar was crafted from stone as black as midnight. Engraved into the surface was a series of runes from which the light emanated. Shale couldn’t make out their exact shape from this distance, but as she stood there, she heard a low chanting emanating from the center of the clearing. As her eyes adjusted, she realized that the obelisk was ringed by figures clasping hands in a circle. Shale frowned at the sight but couldn’t tear her eyes away.
What the fuck is that? She asked.
I don’t know, Lynia answered. But it isn’t good. Lucidus guided us here; this is important for some reason.
CHAPTER 11: THE SCOURGE DEFENDS
SLATE OPENED HIS wings and allowed the air to lift him to his next target in the whirling expanse of the sky. He increased the power of his aspect, and the force propelled him at the next Roc like a missile. He was almost sad to watch the Rocs die. He had heard of them before, but at the moment, he hadn’t recognized them. The Roc had its roots in plenty of mythologies from the Middle East, the Indians, and the Chinese. However, Slate knew the creature from reading The Travels of Marco Polo, wherein, Marco Polo described the beast as a great eagle that feasted upon shipwrecked sailors.
Slate supposed the legend could be true. These cliffs were situated close to the sea in a natural saddle that protected them from inclement weather. Slate considered once again how many different races came to be in Somnium. He couldn’t help but wonder if the Roc was transported from Earth in a different time or if it existed in another universe as yet undiscovered. These thoughts consumed him as he plunged headfirst into the body of another roc. Channeling his inner fire, the Roc exploded into fine mist that was quickly dispersed by the gusts of wind.
Congratulations! You have slain a level 50 Roc. You have earned 194,750 experience.
He idly wondered if the Roc had been taken from his planet. What deity would have wanted it for their own?
He flapped his wings, searching for another target, but the rest of the Rocs had grown agitated. Their behavior was erratic enough that Slate stopped daydreaming about their origins and focused once again on the conflict. He quickly discovered that they weren’t agitated because of him. It seemed that they had barely noticed him.
Rude chickens, he scolded them.
Instead, the Rocs were agitated by the arrival of the Scourge. Slate glanced down and noticed that the Lurkers and Raiders were scaling the cliffs so that they could get closer to the action. Enticers waited with the Mystics on the ground, who began lobbing giant fireballs into the windstorm. The fireballs exploded upon contact with the destructive gusts, and soon white fire was spreading throughout the formation. What was once a tornado of wind was beginning to resemble a fire devil made from blue-white flame rather than air. The intensity of the flames was so severe that the Rocs were trying to escape their thunderstorm. Slate smiled as he heard their death screams ring out. That is until he realized that the mages were going to take all of the possible experience from this venture.
He shook himself from his observation and began hunting for more prey to kill. He had plenty of biomass; the troops could use that to level their mutations. He needed more experience. He was so close to his next mutation that he could almost taste it. He hungered for the next level of power and what his new form would provide him.
The wind started to break, and the fire began to dissipate. The Rocs had stopped their elemental assault on Slate and were launching themselves at the Lurkers and Raiders that were nearing the entrances of their homes. Slate watched them carefully and immediately realized that there must be something of value within them.
Sumnu, Matek, he ordered. Organize the Lurkers to camo-up and enter the Roc nests. I want every last one inspected for valuables. Have the Raiders sit at the entrance and fight off the incoming Rocs. Fidem, organize the fire support on the Rocs. Only attack them if they’re far enough away from the dens. I don’t want the structures to be compromised by the fire.
Slate felt, rather than heard, their assent. He tucked his wings and dove for the nearest Roc; he wasn’t going to let this precious experience go to waste. He pulled up right before impacting the bird and snapped his wings open while letting his tail sweep below him. The motion caused his tail to sweep up the backside of the eagle, cutting it wide open. The tail severed the spine and brain of the bird, resulting in an ins
tant kill.
Congratulations! You have slain a level 50 Roc. You have earned 194,750 experience.
Slate decided he liked this particular form of fighting and sought out more opponents while the rest of the Scourge were scrambling to follow the orders issued by Sumnu and Matek. If Slate wanted to, he could listen to what they were saying. Instead, he put them in the back of his mind like background noise. He knew that he could tune into whatever they were saying if he found it interesting, but right now, he was only concerned with his next victim and the most efficient way to dispatch them.
As he was searching, the Rocs had finally returned to their homes and were fighting the Scourge that invaded them. Slate watched with a slack grin as Raiders used their multiple limbs to rip the birds into literal pieces. Some of the Raiders were strong enough that a simple punch aimed at a Roc would crumple bone and make them look like a Toyota Prius that ran headlong into a Mack truck. Those kills were particularly satisfying. The Rocs still had an aura of electricity around their bodies, and at first, Slate was concerned that their elemental powers would harm the Scourge. However, he soon realized that with this many Scourge in one place, the Scourgeshield was more potent than he had ever seen it. The minor shocks of lightning were dispersed as soon as they landed on the barrier.
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