Mark of the fated 3 a li.., p.56
Mark of the Fated 3: A LitRPG Adventure, page 56
Cris, Cody, Abby, take the tower! Kill anything that moves.
Cris gave me a warning look. Be careful!
I was all out of careful. They powered away while I took to divebombing and Sun followed me down. People were crying and screaming as the zealots approached a fourth pyre. They were naked apart from a ragged loincloth, their whole body a mass of welts and cuts. Little remained of the first two stakes, and the third was an inferno. Atop a fifth platform stood my old enemy, berating another young girl while screaming at the crowd about damnation.
“Selene!”
The priestess spun round, unable to see us properly in the night sky. Our shadows gradually gave way to the burning light. I equipped my full armour, sword, and shield. Reaching the very limit of my Superhero Landing, I stashed Pterry and used our combined velocity to aid my descent. The two fanatics with the torches finally made out my plummeting form. Their malevolent grins were wiped off a split second before I crashed into the ground, turning them into blood-balloons. Their crimson paste burst everywhere, covering the unlit pyre and myself into the bargain. I jumped to my feet and sprinted toward another zealot, cutting him in half with one hate-filled swipe. His upper trunk thudded wetly to the ground, and his legs took a single step before toppling beside him.
Sun landed and quickly hopped from the saddle. She let fly with her chaos axes, burying them in the chest of a charging fanatic. He was swatted hard, smashing into the ground and skidding for a few feet. The others started to surround Selene protectively, withdrawing short swords from their underwear. Two of them raced down the steps to attack, only to meet my highly levelled Shield Bash The kinetic pulses crushed their faces and chests, sending them flying up and over the sobbing child.
Somewhere to my rear, a man was yelling in anger, but it was drowned out by my pulsing blood. I needed to hurt, so I put away my weapons. Four guards remained, and the bravest tried to engage. He swung the sword with as much skill as I expected. I caught his arm by the wrist, then snapped it as I had Bull’s. His free arm swung round, the knuckles clanging against my helmet. I grabbed him by the throat and crotch, lifting him up and over me, squeezing the unmentionables hard enough to feel them pop. Slamming him down into the courtyard, I followed up with a Smite that turned him into a screaming, writhing torch.
The crowd gasped in unison, taking a few steps back.
I felt a series of blows ring against my back. The enchanted armour shrugged them off as if they were gnats annoying a rhino. Turning toward my assailants, the one on the right tried to stab my face through the helmet. I sidestepped the lunge, grabbed his arm, and used it to swing him around like a ragdoll, feeling the joint pop. I misjudged the throw slightly and he landed at the edge of the third fire. Sun helped him out with a running kick that sent him sprawling into the hungry flames.
I was already on the third as his accomplice’s screams rose to a crescendo. I grabbed his head between my mitts and squeezed, ignoring the ineffectual swipes of his weapon. My enraged, god-gifted strength saw his skull crumble under the pressure and he started to spasm in my grasp. I dropped his flopping corpse and slopped the brains from my hands.
Stalking up the steps, I fixed the final zealot in my glare. “Come and meet your god,” I goaded.
Armed with a spear, he took the bait and tried to use it like a bat, swinging wildly. The wood broke against my armour, rendering him helpless. He dived down on me, and I caught him around the throat. I saw Sun’s icon behind me and tossed her the zealot. Her warcleaver cut the air, rending the man into pieces before he landed.
Selene was looking between the straw and her torch. She already knew my power and that the girl would be removed before the flames could engulf her stake-bound form. “The witches must burn!” she screamed at me. “Their cleansing will stop this evil!”
Her character tab held no thrall identifier. She was just batshit crazy. I darted forward, disarmed her of the flame, and bunched her greasy hair in my fist. “There’s only one cleansing that needs to be done,” I said, inches from her face.
She spat at me, her saliva landing on my cheek. Before she could follow up with a frenzy of raking nails, I swept her legs out from under her. Calling Pterry forth, the crowd gasped again and more men were shouting. I ignored their cries, and climbed into the saddle. The priestess had given up trying to hit me and held my hand, trying to ease the pressure on her strained scalp. Realising it would be too awkward to fly with her dangling at my side, I hefted her up and pinned her across my saddle and Pterry’s upper back. My mount took flight, buffeting the raging flames and spraying embers far and wide.
“Keep them back! I won’t be long!” I called to Sun, heading straight for the wall. Passing over the battlements, I guided Pterry down toward the zombie horde.
Selene was bucking and kicking. “You killed Feltham! If the child had burned, this would never have happened! Their deaths are a stain on your soul! Galbury too will fall! They will scream your name with hate as they’re torn apart!”
“Shh,” I said, quietly.
Finding a suitable spot, I had Pterry hover over the crush of corpses. Yanking the priestess from her position, I held her out behind me by her hair.
“The gods will kill everything you love!” she screamed.
“Yeah, no shit,” I muttered.
I released her before she could utter another word. Selene’s short drop was broken by the reaching arms. The hungry dead received her gratefully, tearing at her body with bony corpse-fingers, shredding her robes and skin. Rotten peg teeth took great chunks of her flesh.
I gave her a little wave as she was borne under, disappearing into the teeming ocean of undead. The zombies waved at me, urging me to join them.
“No thanks,” I said, ordering Pterry to fly higher.
At the other end of the fortress, I saw dozens of ravens fly squawking from the roof. Further down the circular face, I saw purple strobes from Cris’s arcane powers. Another level lower and I caught the unmistakeable flash of gunfire from Cody’s Thunderfury.
You all ok?
Just taking out the trash! replied Cris.
The birds are flying home with nothing. We set them loose just in case we miss anyone, said Cody.
Good thinking. Meet me in the courtyard when you’re done.
I soared over the wall, finding Sun freeing the two remaining children unchallenged. The crowd was in uproar, the civilians berating the soldiers. It looked like it would turn ugly at any moment. One among them was obviously the commander. His ostentatious armour was a dead giveaway, as was the personal guard. I met his gaze as I landed, scowling pure hatred at him. Inaction was complicity. One crossed word from that fucker and he’d be joining the priestess as zombie food.
Pterry settled to the ground and I jumped down. Several of the women were screaming and sobbing, making my heart ache for their loss.
“Fuck Death,” I muttered, activating Holy Shield.
Walking straight into the first pyre, the flames were already dying down. I found the tiny, shrivelled corpse and lifted it from the embers. Little but charred bones and sinew remained. I did the same with the second, watching the flames lick at my protective shell. The heat of the bodies was burning my hands and forearms, but I didn’t feel it at all. I retrieved the third, which was almost recognisable as human.
The parents were utterly bereft, and I couldn’t blame them.
I turned to some fearful looking soldiers. “Get water and put this shit out.”
They hesitated, looking to their commander.
“I said now!” I roared, making the onlookers shy away.
The soldiers ran off to comply and I turned back to the three tiny corpses. Kneeling at their feet, I looked to the heavens. “If you try and punish me for this, I’ll shove that scythe up your bony arse, you hear me?”
I stashed my gauntlets, finding the blistered skin beneath. Reaching out at the bones, I cast Resurrection.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
I sat back on my heels and pulled out my halberd, ready to clash with the Grim Reaper. I’d use his broken skull as a piss cup.
The astonishment of our arrival was as nothing to the shock as the crusty, charred remains started to fill out with new flesh. The burned shell cracked and peeled away, revealing perfect pink skin. It was like Astrid from Kherrash all over again, only with a much greater audience. I laid a blanket over each of the children to spare them the humiliation of waking completely naked. Moving closer, I picked away the layers of shed char that covered their reconstructed faces. None of them were older than ten and I wished I could feed Selene to the zombies again. For a fleeting moment, I considered flying out, gutting one of the zombies to find a chunk of the bitch, then using another resurrection to bring her back.
The children gasped, drawing in the first breaths of their new life. My burning need for double revenge ebbed away as their eyes cracked open, looking around in shock.
I smiled down at them. “You’re safe now.” Turning to their parents, I snapped my fingers and waved them over. They hesitated for a moment, then broke into a full run. Falling to their knees, they gathered up the children and rained kisses on them. I backed away, drawing strength from their reunion. “Take good care of them.”
Death would come for me at some point and I didn’t give two shits. The joy taking place before me was worth every ounce of pain the skeletal horror would try and inflict. I watched the surroundings, just in case he was already here. Nothing in black robes stalked the shadows, and I returned my attention to the crowd.
At their back, the tongues of the blazing oil were licking over the ramparts. On my minimap, the red icons of the zombies were blinking out rapidly on the other side. We had a temporary shield. As soon as the fires died down at the lower gatehouse, the larger zombie constructs would start to move the rubble and the full attack would begin in earnest.
I was about to address the crowd when the rest of my party arrived. They landed nearby, stashed the mounts, and joined me.
“We got most of them,” said Cris.
“A couple disappeared into the grounds before we could get them.”
“Good work. Broderick won’t know what happened here. I like the idea of him receiving a raven with no message and wondering what it means.” I turned to address the onlookers. “To all the soldiers, I want the rest of the zealots rounded up and brought to me. Search every inch of this place. I wouldn’t put it past them to try and sabotage the castle.”
A group of soldiers returned at a run, carrying buckets. They pitched the contents over the pyres, the water hissing and steaming.
“You!” I snapped at them. “You have a well?”
“Yes, sire,” said one of the men.
“Then you’re on guard duty. Don’t let anyone come near it that’s wearing a cloth and covered in cuts and bruises. In fact, unless it’s one of us, keep everyone away.”
They just stared at me.
“Go. Now!”
They knew the entire situation had changed following the miracle. Dropping the empty buckets, they ran off, unsheathing their swords. The rest of the soldiers were still dutybound to the commander and watched for his orders. His name was Joseph Sharp.
“If you want to survive, do as I say, Sharp!” I warned him. Seeing the same obstinance I’d found in Randulf, I swallowed my pride and softened my tone slightly. “We’re here to help, I promise you.”
“You expect me to believe that after your butchery?” he snapped.
I noticed he only glanced briefly at the dead zealots with a scowl, but studied the resurrected children intently. He knew that a miracle had taken place in his presence.
“We can talk in private. The Seven aren’t what you think they are. They are the enemy no less than the zombies at your door. You know this. I can see it in your face.”
As with many people of his lofty status, he was a capable judge of character. He acquiesced to my order and gave the nod to his captains to begin the search.
Approaching us cautiously with his guard, he looked over my disparate band of adventurers. “Quite the display.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” I replied. “Let’s go and have a chat.”
Chapter 72
Sharp led us into the main fortress and climbed the steps towards the war room. The planning was becoming as much a part of each world as the fighting. It mostly revolved around us talking to people who had little to offer, followed by my party risking life and limb. I rebuked myself for that thought. Many others had fought valiantly at our side, and it was a dick move to pretend otherwise. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t brought any weight to bear on the scales. At least they stood on them beside me.
We’d passed through several more gates inside the castle before reaching the keep, which at least meant there were positions to use as a fallback.
“We’re here,” said Sharp, pushing open a great door. “Now, would you care to share who and what you people are? Your creatures. Your magic. Are you with Stonevale?”
“No, they’re still hiding on their island,” I replied, bristling at his demanding tone.
Sharp cursed under his breath. “I was hoping they might offer aid.”
I’d already decided to share everything with the commander, even if I was furious with him. “One among them did,” I said. “Lucien, one of the High Heralds, took King Edward to safety with the dwarves in the Bellowing Mountains.”
Sharp’s eyes bugged at the revelations. “You said the king? But he died some time ago.”
I shook my head. “He came close. He was on death’s door before I rescued him from the bastion.”
Sharp laughed heartily. “You almost had me, stranger. I…”
“Mark,” I interjected.
Sharp stumbled over his words. “Pardon? Oh, Mark, fine. I may not have magic, but I can sense lies as if I was a Stonevale practitioner. The dead king being given sanctuary with the dwarves in their mountain holds. A likely tale.” He laughed again, sardonically. “At least I can go to my death with a smile on my face, so I thank you for that.”
“Your powers aren’t working, sire. Mark did save the king. And we did place him into the care of General Gregor Hammerbrow. They are sailing him to shelter with King Agnor Kragghewer. The dwarves are now our friends,” said Abby.
Sharp studied our teenage protégé for long seconds. “You speak true?”
“You’ve got a million zombies beating down the gates of your castle, but imagining The Seven could fake the king’s death is a stretch too far?”
He turned his attention back to me. “You make a fair point, Mark, while at the same creating another fable that I just can’t countenance. The Seven are somehow involved in this? They are the voice of the gods. Divine. A good in this world.”
“Sit down and let me pour you a dwarf drink,” I offered.
Sharp was beyond bewildered and slumped into one of the chairs. He started to massage his temple as if a headache was blooming. I sympathised with his burden, though not with his acquiescence to Selene’s insanity. Fresh anger rose inside me when I pictured his annoyance at my intervention. Retrieving a mug and keg from our stash, the commander just watched as I poured him a lichen mead.
I passed it over. Unable to help myself, I leaned in close and growled, “Consider yourself lucky you’re able to drink this. I was going to feed you to the dead along with that bitch priest for letting them kill the children.”
My party telepathically facepalmed. Sharp glared up at me, ready to explode.
I pinned him down with one powerful hand before he could rise. “Sit there and shut the fuck up, child-killer. You’ll answer for your cowardice in the afterlife, but today I need you ready to fight.”
My words punctured his bravado and he sagged. “What else was I supposed to do? The Seven carry the weight of the crown in their word. Our kingdom is beset by evil, and the priestess promised us a way to live.”
“The kingdom is beset by evil because of The Seven.”
“Impossible,” he groaned. “The Seven promised salvation. The zombies are Dred’s vile work.”
“Yeah, they are, because of The Seven,” I repeated. “This all comes back to Edward still being alive.”
“How are the two events linked?”
“Brother Broderick is a master vampire.”
“A what?” Sharp blurted.
“A vampire. Two fangs. Pale skin. Addiction to blood.”
“They are make-believe. A tale to scare wayward children.”
“Once, perhaps. Now they’re the real thing. He’s taken the queen, the nobles, the entire Vale come to think of it. Edward was strong enough to resist, so they had him thrown in the bastion’s dungeon to think about his future, or lack thereof. Caroline is Broderick’s thrall, giving his orders in the name of the queen.” I pointed through the narrow window to the darkness beyond. “Why do you think that’s happening? Zombies don’t need to hide from the sun.”
“The growing night is the vampire’s doing?”
I nodded. “It’s designed to allow them to hunt without being burned to a crisp. All day, and all night. Forever.”
“What of the Legion? They wouldn’t stand for this!”
“They’re his. Everything in the Vale is under Broderick’s control. If they’re not already turned into vampires, they will be soon.”
Sharp groaned. “Then we are lost. Evil at our front and evil at our back, with only the remnants of the Tulahr army cowering in the downlands.”
“Not necessarily. They might have a powerful army, but so do we. I’m hoping to add to it today.”
His eyes lit up with hope. “An army? They are here?”
“No, they’re waiting in the wealds for our orders. Nature is on our side.”
Sharp sighed dejectedly. “You speak in riddles, Mark. I am but a simple soldier, elevated by my king for saving his life on the battlefield. If you don’t have the force of arms to help, you should take to the skies on your strange creatures and flee from here. One by one, the defensive layers of Galbury will fall until we are all mindless ghouls, marching in lockstep with the other undead toward the next settlement. Then the next. And the next.”
