“There’s no end to them!”
“Randolph, behind you!”
“Ughh… Take, that!”
Randolph made a shimmering slash at the zombies that leapt at him, chopping their heads clean off with his magic enhanced weapon, Gobbert then followed up with large sweep of an iron club smashing the skeletons into smithereens.
“Fuck!” Randolph cursed as his blade connected to another ghoul that tried to spit acid at Gobbert. There was no end to the undead that were spawning in front of them, and it was only ticking them off the more of the undead they had to kill.
The two of them were buying time for Scywell and Helen who were fighting the lich by the hill not far away from them. Scywell had been trying to get a clean strike at the lich but the magic deflection robe the lich wore made the fighting process longer than any of them had expected.
“Randolph, your six’o clock!” Gobbert warned, immediately causing Randolph to perform a backwards sweep with his weapon.
While Randolph could cause a humongous explosion with his sword magic by infusing it with [Extreme Combust], it would instantly scorch everyone and everything in a small radius—including himself—and turn all the undead into ashes, he restrained and kept his cool.
He was rough when it came to combat, but he was not stupid. Though it would have made his day if he was able use that skill of his against the lich and end the battle swiftly and be crowned as the virtuso for this mission, but thanks to the magic deflection robe that the lich had, and the current state he was in, he was better off fighting the undead with [Minor Combust] which applied an explosive force behind each swing of his weapon.
Firstly, [Extreme Combust] would use all of his mana and strength in exchange for a powerful explosion that decimates all enemies but he would not only end up hurt in the process, he would be vulnerable for a long period of time, and with the unending waves of zombies, both the risk and reward were not worth doing it. Secondly…
A zombie slipped pass him and took sharp turn into Kershent Ruins.
“Gob! We’ve leaked one!!!”
“On it!” Gobbert answered right after Randolph’s voice reflexively took the light round shield he had and bent his elbow as he aimed at the running zombie. “O’ wind, guide my aim and protect the innocent, [Absolute Aim]!” he hurled it in the direction of the zombie before it could even get close to the glowing monolith of Kershent Ruins.
It was the monolith that the two of them were tasked to defend, the place where the eight unconscious hostages were tied to.
If any of the undead were allowed to move pass them and spill the blood of the hostages onto the circular patio of the monolith, the sacrificial ritual that the lich had prepared would begin. Until Scywell and Helen had disposed of the lich, it was best to leave the hostages untouched to avoid any unwanted incidents.
Thwip!
The shield that Gobbert launched struck the zombie straight in the head, causing it’s body fell to the ground and dissipated.
“Too close…”
Randolph tightened his grip on his sword, the impenetrable defense that he had been maintaining for the last twenty minutes finally came to a halt when that zombie slipped pass him, he was starting to get tired, and he did not like it.
“Gob, I need you to do it now!” he called to his friend who wore heavy armor, the both of them were getting more and more sluggish as time went on, but the wave of undead seemed to have no end, and it was only a matter of time they lose focus and made more mistakes.
“Okay…” Gobbert nodded at Randolph before he took a deep breath. When his lungs reached max capacity, he expelled all air and shouted to the skies for everyone to hear. “[Call of The Unbreakable Fortress], [Limitless Aggravation]!” Gobbert was then surrounded by a light film across, and when the spell had fully taken into effect, all manner of undead, skeletons, zombies, ghouls, and fiends alike turned their attention at him. “Thirty seconds, Randolph! Make it count!” Gobbert then charged into the horde of undead and began taking out each of them at close proximity, utilizing his thirty seconds of complete immunity of damage and taunting to the best of his ability.
Once the undead gathered in one spot and surrounded Gobbert, Randolph let out a cold smile, this was the coordinated move that they always used when facing enemies more than they could handle. Though Gobbert could only use [Limitless Arggravation] twice a day to grab the attention of their enemies, his [Call of The unbreakable Fortress] that prevented all damage had a limited use of once every thirty hours.
“Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty eight…” Randolph muttered under his breath as he moved to the closest undead and began his great culling, he drove the edge of his two handed bastard swords horizontally and slit neck after neck of the undead.
As his blade found the consecutive target after the last, flesh ripped, blood split, bones cracked, one by one the bodies tumbled to the ground like ragdolls, their false life put to an end by this tactic that Gobbert and Randolph had applied without fail on their many missions.
“Four, three two, one…” just as he counted the last few seconds remaining to Gobbert’s spell, the last of the undead that was standing fell to the ground and joined its kind. “I think they stopped spawning, Scywell must have done something on his end.” Randolph said as he sheathed his sword, his eyes darted their surroundings to check the sudden lack of newly spawned undead sent to attack them, “How many you’ve got this time, Gob?”
“Thirteen.”
“Ha, that is five less than me this time!”
“Yeah…” Gobbert spoke hesitantly and eyed the bodies around them. “They haven’t stopped spawning until we used that combo of ours… Do you think…”
“Bullshit! They must have been scared that we have something like that up our sleeves, the lich probably got frustrated and decided to not waste his energy on us. Since we are done, maybe we can go help Scy.”
“No, he told us to guard the entrance. Who knows what—”
A large rumble came from the ground beneath them and interrupted Gobbert before he could finish.
“Back! Move away from the bodies!” Gobbert shouted and the both of them jumped away just in time when the ground beneath them oozed out dark purple liquid, enveloping all the bodies of the various undead they have defeated. “It’s taking all of them, get ready for round two!”
The dark purple liquid then rose to two stories high and molded itself into a giant creature of death.
Randolph shared a smile with Gobbert, then spoke, “The lich must be desperate if it is trying to reuse the undead we disposed of.”
“I sense a challenge coming,” Gobbert said.
“Whoever takes the big guy down gets ten kills added to tonight’s battle, deal?”
“Oh, you’re on Randolph!”
“John? What’s the matter? Are you sick?” Angeline said with a face filled with concern.
John shook his head, when he opened his mouth to tell her his suspicions regarding their coachman, he stopped, closed his eyes and placed his fingertips together, took a deep breath so we won’t be making the same mistake as earlier—acting too quickly and ended up alerting the undead horde.
Let’s take it slow this time, the ‘coachman’ hasn’t known that I am suspecting him yet... He thought to himself as he got to his feet, releasing himself from Angeline’s arms. This time, he wanted to be ready to face what monstrosity that was hidden behind that benevolent smile, his memory of the past still had many gaps, but he’d be damned if he jumped the gun here.
He turned to the coachman and said in friendly manner, “I just remembered, did you do what Scywell told you? It is important that we get help from headquarters, I don’t think the three of us alone can handle any of the undead here, me and Angeline are just not the combat type.”
“Scywell—? Ah, yes! Yes, I did, the headquarters just informed me that help is on the way, there is absolutely nothing you have to worry about. Miss Angeline also contacted them too, so please rest as you see fit, I am sure dealing with those undead was exhausting, I’ll keep watch in the meantime.”
He sure is eager for me and Angeline to rest ourselves.
John pretended to nod favorably, but before he agreed to the coachman’s offer, he held up a finger at him.
“Just one thing before I take up on your offer to rest, did you know where, Kuran and Barry went? You know, the two soldiers that was guarding the entrance. I am worried about them,” John said before he gave a quick glance a Angeline, hoping that she would catch on to what he was attemping .
The coachman had his gaze upwards for a moment before he answered in the most casual tone, “Kuran went to check the nearby perimeters while Barry is doing his, business. The toilet kind, ahaha.”
“I see… Thanks for informing me that.” John said before moved closer to Angeline and grabbed her hand.
Angeline who was listening to John and the coachman’s peculiar conversation scrunched her brows. By the time John’s hand grab bed onto hers, she knew something was up.
What is he talking about? Kuran and Barry? They never told us their names in the first place. John is acting just like how he hugged me back in the townhall…
The epiphany hit her was then she noticed John’s other hand drew close to the short sword by his waist, he had moved his hand so casually that if not for her keen observation of John’s slightly hunched back, she would not have pieced together what John was doing by striking up such an idle conversation.
You rascal, you are pretending to be romantic to save me again…
It was a test for the coachman, and he failed it.
Kuran and Barry were just names John randomly chosen to test the coachman, none of them knew the real names of the two guards. If the coachman who supposedly had spent the most time with the two guards had casually agreed to the names that John pulled from the top of his head instead of correcting John, the two guards that disappeared were the were the least of his worries.
The coachman, this impostor of their coachman that he was staring at face to face, was not the one who brought them here on the imperial carriage. It was a third party who was trying to fool him and Angeline.
Did he kill them? Or were they working for him? John can’t help but wonder. The two guards were acting unusual too, and there isn’t any blood on the grounds.
As if on cue, Angeline moved behind John when their ‘coachman’ was convinced that John was going to rest himself and let out a big yawn, “John, come on, I am tireeeedd, let’s take take a nap before we continue this,” yanking him away from the coachman before whispering to him in a quiet voice. “Give it to him, tell him it’s holy water. Try to get the contents on the ground, I’ll be able to restrain him with my magic then.”
Angeline’s hand reached inside her pouch before handing John a small vial with a colorless liquid.
“I’ll wait for you by the tree over thereee.”
When she was done, she quickly moved to a nearby tree and leaned against it before she pretended to nap. A faint green aura started to form around Angeline, indicating that she was preparing her magic in anticipation of supporting John.
Thankfully she catches on quick. This girl is very observant.
“Hey coachman, catch!” John wasted no time and tossed the vial of colorless liquid that Angeline placed in his hand to him. “Use that last vial of holy water we have if you face any undead too strong.”
The vial fumbled in the impostor’s arms a few moments before he finally got a tight grip on it. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Are you sure? Giving me your last vial of holy water? I heard they are hard to come by ever since the empire placed those new regulations on them.”
John waved a hand nonchalantly as he turned away, indicated to the impostor to not worry about it, “You’re our coachman. If I can’t trust you, who will I trust my life with?”
“Ahahaha, quite right too, thank you, Mister John.”
“At least… That’s what I would say if you were indeed our driver.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Ask Kuran and Barry, maybe they might know why.”
“…”
Woosh!
Like the unrelenting breeze on a stormy day, the impostor rushed himself at John.
Luckily, John was expecting this and returned the assault with a parry of his own, he struck with the short sword that he had on a reverse grip sending the razor sharp metal upwards and passing the entre blade through impostor’s shoulders.
Thud.
The arm that John had so easily dismembered dropped to the ground, and person who pretended to be their coachman took a step back, showing no visible signs of pain across his face.
John looked to the ground, expecting to blood but what he saw instead was the limb hardened into a purple rock before it crumbled into pieces. “What are you…” John held the blade across his face, ready for the impostor to strike at any second.
If it were any undead, the impostor would have bled or even howled at John’s devastating counterattack. Yet, not only the impostor’s face showed no emotions, the arm that John cut off was starting to regenerate to the razor sharp fingers that slashed at him.
As if to answer John, the impostor opened his arms wide. His facial features blurred, the chainmail he had underneath, the silver armor that he so boldly wore, fused into his body, his boots, his weapon, all of what was on his body, fused with him, leaving nothing but a purple humanoid figure.
What John saw was no longer a human, instead it was a creature who was in complete deep shade of purple, a creature who had the same two arms and two legs just like him, but had no distinguishable features across its face, no ears, no nose, no hair. All that was left recognizable on the impostor’s body were the two glowing eyes that stared at John with heavy killing intent.
A shapeshifter.
“You brat…” the impostor spoke clearly despite its non existent mouth. “How did you see through my disguise?” the lines across the impostor’s neck popped, the arm that regenerated from John’s attack now have elongated itself into a two-meter long scimitar blade. With his newly formed weapon, the impostor ran to John with the curved edge of the blade a neck level.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
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John move to intercept the shapeshifter’s before the impostor could slash at his throat. He slid his body two steps to the right, dodging the attack, then closed their distance and swung his weapon at the shapeshifter’s sides, leaving a fresh cut on the impostor’s ribs.
Shapeshifters, or changelings as many would call them, were creatures born with the ability to mimic another person’s image on a perfect scale. Although they are not able to duplicate the memories of their person of interest, most of the shapeshifters by trade have charismatic personalities, that allowed them to pass off as someone else.
But unfortunately for the shapeshifter, this was not the first time John dealt with people who used their charisma to get him believing what they wanted. That vague memory that popped in his head earlier only strengthened his resolve.
“The vial,” John muttered, “I shouldn’t have...”
Noticing John’s gaze on the vial that Angeline told to give away, the shapeshifter raised his arm, and waved the vial in the air. “What’s the matter? You were smart enough to figure out my identity but you forgotten that you gave me this holy water that would weaken me?”
“…”
“Come on, human child, try harder! Don’t disappoint me like the two useless undead guards I’ve placed to welcome you and your merry friends, be a man and face me with everything you’ve got!!! And perhaps, I might return this to you!” the shapeshifter taunted as he wriggled the vial in his arm like a tentacle.
Just when he thought to give up this little charade of his, John noticed Angeline nodding at him from the corner of his eye, indicating to him that he was right to fake his overreaction towards the vial of liquid that was the ‘holy water’.
“G-give it back,” John held his weapon with two of his hands held his weapon firmly by his waist and charged at the shapeshifter as though a child with no prior combat experience would.
“How foolish,” the shapeshifter muttered before striking a free arm that had the form of a hammer at John’s left cheek.
Wham!
John got the full brunt of the attack but thankfully his reflex of casting [Heal] was still ingrained in him, so the blow did not harm him, it only wrung his body backwards.
I better get the shapeshifter to break the vial before—
“Arghhh!!!” he yelled.
While he was sent into the air, the purple arm of the shapeshifter had formed a ring around John’s neck and caught him by the neck, squeezing him greatly such that his windpipes were crushed in the process.
[Heal]
He wasted no time in casting his magic silently, mitigating the damage that would completely destroy his throat.
The shapeshifter then retracted his arm, brought John close to it’s featureless face and looked at him with glowing eyes.
“You humans are pathetic, this is why I hate mimicking any of you, if not for my master, I would have morphed into a giant and smash you and your silly hero into bloody pulps. Alas, this is only a reconnaissance mission, the lich should inform me of how strong he is.”
“Give…it…back!” John choked out his words as he clawed at the shapeshifter’s grasp on his neck.
The shapeshifter than brought the vial of holy water to both their faces. “You mean this thing? Aww, you have to try better than squealing in my grasp to fight for it.” The shapeshifter then formed a thumb, pushed the cork out from the vial and began to pour the liquid onto the ground. “Oops, maybe not this life. Now say your goodbyes to your useless woman before I end your pathetic life!” the shapeshifter turned John’s body towards Angeline. “It seems that she simply watched while you fought against me, perhaps she too, like many human females, would simply watch their partner’s demise when faced with an impossible foe—"
“Heh…” John let out a smug grin before he spoke, “She’s pretty dependable, y-you should worry about me more,” with his short sword still in his hand, John swung the weapon and sent the entirety of the steel blade through the shapeshifter’s arm.
“GAHHHH!!!” the shapeshifter yelled, the shapeshifter took a step back, his grip on John released before hissing loudly. “THAT WAS MY CORE BODY!!!”
“Angeline, do whatever you are planning to do, NOW!!!”
The moment John released himself from the shapeshifter, Angeline who was preparing a spell by the large tree surged her condensed mana at the tree, connecting her magic to very roots of the tree.
“[Roots of Restriction]!”
The ground beneath the shapeshifter cracked and a torrent of roots burst from underneath, furious and voracious, each of the thick roots entwined themselves at the shapeshifter before he realized what was going on.
“You imbecile! Unhand me at once!” the shapeshifter shouted as he morphed his body into various shapes to escape himself from the roots entanglement, but as soon as his body grew in size, the roots responded and curled themselves around his body, constricting him until he had no choice to shrink himself according to the roots.
“That’s not holy water, damn, Angeline, growth enhancers? This is some impressive stuff.” John said to himself before moving towards the now entrapped shapeshifter, “Now tell me, where is our coachman, what did you do to him?”
“…”
John nodded, “I see, I see, so you want to test my patience huh?” John raised his weapon, readying the tip of the sword to plunge at the shapeshifter’s head, “Tell me!”
“You will never find him, he is—”
“John, my detection magic triggered a perception ward! Our coachman is underneath the coach!” Angeline shouted, interrupting the shapeshifter before he could finish his sentence. “He is in a really bad state, I don’t know if my healing potions can heal him…”
John looked at the shapeshifter who was desperately forcing his purple lump of a body to expand and snap the invincible roots, it was either stand here and watch the shapeshifter or go heal the badly wounded coachman.
John hesitated for a moment before he left the shapeshifter alone, he can’t help but to compare whether the life of an innocent worth more than a possibility that the shapeshifter escaping successfully.
I want to kill him now… But there seems like a lot more is going on here…
He looked to the shapeshifter who was glaring at him with glowing eyes before he gave up and went to where Angeline was. By the time he was beside her, Angeline had already have the imperial coach moved away from the coachman’s unconscious body.
A bruised body with a disfigured face was what the coachman had been reduced to, his armor which Angeline had gently removed and placed to a side was punctured to the point where repairs seemed impossible. A puddle of blood surrounded where the man laid, making it clear that the shapeshifter had assaulted the man from behind.
“Please don’t go yet.” Angeline muttered over and over as she poured the vial of healing potion onto the man’s back that was missing a large chunk of meat and bones, it was though the shapeshifter had turned into a large beast and tore the man’s back and caused such disgusting sight. \
“John he is still breathing but…”
“Yeah, on it. [Heal].”
John cast his spell without a second thought, his placed two of his arms on top of the coachman and made a clear mental image of what an imperial soldier’s muscular back would look like. The continuous blue aura of his kept on flowing from him, and he was not about to stop until the coachman breathed normally.
Even his spine is mostly gone… This is going to take a bit more…
A long minute passed, the majority of the coachman’s flesh was regenerated, even his scars disappeared with [Heal] but John was not about to let up, he had to make sure that the coachman’s internals healed properly before he stopped. Cold sweat began to form on his forehead before he knew it, his body started to heat up the longer he kept his magic going.
When Angeline saw that John was not stopping himself, she became extremely concerned. “John! It’s alright now, you’ve saved him, you don’t have to force yourself to mana fatigue!”
“Just give it a few more… And alright! Hah….hah…that was something.” John stopped with heavy panting, his reddened face was now beaded with sweat and everything around him felt light. “Give me a second,” he said with a raised hand while he supported himself with the frame of the military coach.
“You shouldn’t push yourself that hard… What if you collapsed?” Angeline said in a low voice as she patched the coachman with herbs.
John simply waved a hand away at her concern, “Don’t worry, there’s still a long way to go until mana fatigue, I used to play around with my magic until I pass out, to increase my capacity.”
“If you say so…” Angeline looked like she was about to say more but she kept silent and checked the coachman for his responses. Then…
Crraaaccck!
A loud snap came from where the shapeshifter was imprisoned by the roots. John exhausted as he is, perked his body in response and reached for his weapon and readied him to meet the creature’s oncoming charge at him.
“You are mineeee, girrrlllll!” the shapeshifter shouted with bloodlust from his featureless head, his two arms behind him elongated and took form the of two long fillet blades that was specifically made to skin someone alive.
John’s eyes widened at the shapeshifter, without thinking jumped from where he stood and placed himself in front of Angeline and their coachman.
With no weapon in his hand, no trick up his sleeve, no plan to escape this situation, he planted himself on firmly and hoped that he could unsheathe the short sword in time to meet the terrifying blades that charged in his direction.
[Heal]
Just as he preemptively cast his magic, a voice as clear as spring rang from above him.
“[Absolute Steel]!”
Claaaaannngggg!!!
A loud metallic reverberated his skull, the shapeshifter’s blades were stopped in their tacks before John.
“A shapeshifter, in the empire?”
The voice belonged to no other than the hero of his generation, Scywell Shatterstep, the hero had appeared in front of John intercepting the shapeshifter’s strike before John was even able to pull out his weapon.
“Well done, John. Your courage against this monster is worthy of praise.” Scywell commented before he returned his attention to the shapeshifter and swung his weapon blow after blow and forced the shapeshifter focus on Scywell only.
“Tell, me shapeshifter, from where do you come from? I am curious to know.”
The shapeshifter, realizing that Scywell was only getting more and more aggressive in his strikes moved backwards while parrying the hero’s rapid flurry. But the more the shapeshifter retreated, the more ruthless Scywell became with the sword, heavy blows after another within a second. The more the shapeshifter tried to respond to Scywell, the slower he became at reacting to the hero’s attacks.
“Still silent?” Scywell asked the shapeshifter in an icy voice, his breath began to fog as spoke. Scywell then changed his slashing strokes and went for a precise stab at the shapeshifter, successfully slipping pass the shapeshifter’s dual bladed defense and pierced into the shapeshifter’s abdomen.
“!!!”
“[Descent of the Eternal Ice]!”
At his chant, a layer of frost surged from the hilt of his sword and went into the body of the shapeshifter, freezing the monster at the area of the wound.
“Gahh!” the shapeshifter cried out. He morphed his arms into two whips and cracked it at Scywell’s face.
Scywell dodged, he pulled of his sword from the shapeshifter, imediately following up with another thrust at the shapeshifter but when his sword went forward, the shapeshifter had vanished from his sights.
“You dare escape?”
Rustle, rustle…
The shrubs by the dense forest made audible noises as Scywell searched for the shapeshifter. It took him no time to notice that a wounded purple boar was whimpering with all its might away from him, it was no doubt the shapeshifter.
“It is unwise to think mercy is given to cowards who seek to harm others.”
He raised his sword, pointed in the direction of the escaping boar and chanted.
“By the grace that was bestowed to me, I command the truest of ice, grant a fitting curse onto my enemy, [Arctic End]!”
A blast of ice wind swirled around him before quickly scattering into the direction of the escaping boar.
“No!!! Let me go, you accursed hero!!!” the shapeshifter spoke before transforming back to his original, faceless, form. Solid ice formed around his skin as he ran with all he could, he tried expanding parts of his body, shedding the shards of frost that were seeping into his flesh.
“I’ll—” but no matter how much the shapeshifter tried, Scywell’s magic caught up to him and turned the shapeshifter into an ice statue.
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