Necromancer Unmanned

Chapter 9: 9. Desperate Times


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Von

“How much power does she have?” Von asked, looking at the dark lines covering the sky.

The Screechers flew over head, greatly reduced in number after most of them had tried to swarm the artillery and machine guns only to die as they touched the strands of necromantic magic. Rockets and scatter guns were quickly killing the rest.

Turning his attention back to the oncoming demons, the fastest ones were almost at the trenches. The tiny humanoid imps, the long legged dark hounds, and the large mouth gnashers were howling with glee even as they were shot down by the hundreds. Once they got into the trench, they would have all the advantages and it would be a bloody fight to push them back.

Less than a hundred yards from the first trench, the demons came to a crashing stop. Hundreds of bodies who had been lying on their backs seemingly dead grabbed the demons by the legs, tripping them, and causing the ones behind to crash into their fallen kin.

Some of the soldiers began to laugh hysterically at the sight. They didn't stop firing as they laughed.

Keir had been right, the worker zombies and skeletons he'd created the night before weren't capable of fighting. But using them as a trap to slow the demons down, they had worked perfectly. The demons snapped, stabbed and pounded on the undead, trying to free themselves, even as they were cut down by gunfire.

As the first zombies were torn apart, the next row of undead grabbed at the demons. A ridge of dead and wounded demons began to form. Then the larger demons arrived.

Massive handed Crushers grabbed the dead and dying demons, throwing them into the trenches. Soldiers had to duck, or risk getting hit. A few unlucky ones didn't move in time, they were knocked down and stunned from the blows. Most of them got up a few moments later, shaking their heads, eyes unfocused, but still capable of pulling a trigger.

Some of the demons survived the flight, they lashed out biting and clawing at anyone who was close. Children ran all along the trench, stabbing the demons, living and dead, with spears, letting the soldiers focus on firing into the horde.

Von reached out with his magic, healing and invigorating the dozens of soldiers along his trench. He'd learned the spell over a decade ago when he'd been training to be a healer, it had served him well over the years. The firing picked up as the soldiers felt relief from the pain and wounds that had become a fact of life.

“Grenades!” a sergeant shouted.

The older children reached into satchels, pulling out homemade hand bombs. Lighting the fuses they lobbed the grenades high into the air. The explosions were tiny compared to the artillery that was still falling, but it shredded the demons who were almost at the trenches.

Von couldn't help but be amazed. The demons should have overrun them already. A few thousand humans in trenches defending against a horde of this size was a hopeless cause. The Screechers would have taken out the artillery, or forced too many soldiers to focus on killing them, allowing the horde to get closer relatively unharmed. No sane human would have, or could have, stood in the hordes way like the undead had, slowing them for precious minutes, allowing the artillery to kill them in droves. 

That morning, he would have laid good money on the ragged army breaking at the sight of the demons. Now they were laughing. It was crazed laughter of disbelief and hysteria, but it was still laughter.

What could Keir accomplish with a week to prepare?

His thoughts were brought back to the present. A long, lizard-like Reaper was racing towards the trench. Staying low to the ground, weaving and dodging erratically, it was avoiding most of the bullets, the ones that did hit seemed to bounce off its scales.

Acting on instinct, Von sent a wave of magic into the earth in front of the trench. As the Reaper dug its long scythe-like claws into the dirt, preparing to leap into the trench, the mud sucked it down. The demon shrieked, struggling to climb out of the unnatural quicksand. A bullet struck its temple, silencing it forever.

More demons charged, some got stuck in the quicksand, others jumped over it, or used the trapped demons as stepping stones. Another volley of grenades were thrown, and the firing became more desperate.

Channelling the ambient magic through him, adding his own to the mix, Von wove it into a spell. Spreading his arms wide, spears of air flew at the demons, piercing their hides, knocking them backwards.

All along the line officers blew their whistles, signalling that trenches were about to be overrun. Drawing his sword, Von cast more spells, trying to hold the demons back for a few more precious moments.

Keir

His eyesight was still blurry.

Getting to his feet, relieved that his heart had found a proper, if very fast, rhythm, Keir wiped at his eyes, hoping that would improve his vision. It didn't.

A shrill whistle was making his already aching head, hurt even more.

He went to the side of the trench and managed to peer out at the battlefield. It was a wall of demons, all of them running forwards. Worse, the edge of the horde was almost on top of them.

Bracing himself, he grabbed hold of his fleeting magic. Weaving it into the dead roots that had been crushed and ruined by bombs, feet and claws, he willed them to rise up. The demons fell as dead plants wrapped themselves around their legs.

Leaning against the trench side trying through sheer force of will to make his heart slow down, he pushed himself to keep casting. Several dozen ghostly constructs, no larger than hummingbirds, took form. The tiny things were little more than ethereal blades. They flew through the air, slicing at the demons eyes, throats and limbs, trying to kill or lame them.

He had never been so tired. This wasn't the type of war he was used to. This was like fighting a force of nature. If he'd had time to prepare, he might have been able to do something, but with what he had and no time, it was damn near hopeless.

A Gnasher made it into the trench. The two legged mouth, launched itself at a child who couldn't be more than ten years old, that tried to spear it.

Keir's ghostly servant Hanina, made herself visible, placing herself between the child and the demon, a knife appearing in her hand. The demon hit her ghostly body, not stopping, but slowed down enough that it fell to the ground just short of the child. A second later, the ethereal knife cleaved through its skull.

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More demons made it into the trench. Hanina silently charged at them, passing harmlessly through any humans, as she stabbed and slashed the monsters.

A Render crawled into the trench right next to Keir. The large, four-legged demon opened its enormous bony jaws, lunging at him.

Keir was yanked to the side by a soldier. The Render snapped its mouth shut so swiftly, he felt the air move. Realizing he was still alive, Keir slapped the demon with his hand. He felt the life force of the demon, the powerful magic that coursed through its body, and its tiny, savage soul.

He absorbed it all.

The energy jolted him off his feet.

The demon roared in his head. He needed to kill something. Without realizing it, death energy formed around his hands, creating long, dark claws. The same energy covered his skin, crackling and snapping as he moved.

He watched the demon turn to ash and laughed.

They all needed to die.

Getting to his feet, he saw that the trench was full of soldiers and demons, fighting and dying. A childlike Imp tried to stab him with its long knife-like claws. He caught its arm and absorbed it's soul and energy. The roaring in his head got louder.

“Keep control, Keir,” he told himself, his voice an almost inhuman growl.

Drawing his sword, the energy moved from his hands to the blade. Walking down the trench, every demon that was cut by the blade burned and died. A few demons managed to claw him, the magical energy surrounding him blunted their attacks. Those unlucky demons found themselves grabbed, their souls ripped out and eaten.

Soldiers all along the trench, cheered or breathed a sigh of relief as the demons were slaughtered. Then they saw Keir's twisted, gleeful expression, his black eyes that were more monstrous then the demons, and heard his inhumanly loud growl. The cheers died away. The soldiers cowered, pushing themselves against the side of the trench. Momentarily forgetting the demons who were trying to kill them.

Keir didn't notice any of this. The shrieking in his head was too loud. One desire filled his mind, kill every demon that he could find and eat their soul.

Floria

Racing down the side trench, Floria wished, not for the first time, that she was riding her horse. It wasn't natural fighting in the dirt like this. The  Lleial were cavalry, not infantry. Unfortunately there was no place for a horse in this type of fighting.

Now they were shock troops, plugging holes and retaking trenches.

A dark hound leapt at her, it's dog like jaws going for her throat. The runes on her shotgun glowed, helping her aim. Pulling the trigger, the butt slammed painfully into her shoulder. The shell went through the demons mouth, turning its brain into mush. Jumping over the body, she pumped the shotgun, ejecting the shell and chambering the next.

Reaching the main trench, her ten man squad right behind her, she couldn't hear much. The second, third and fourth trench lines were firing for all they were worth, and the artillery was coming down almost on top of them. She was surprised they hadn't run into more demons, the monsters should have been charging through the side trench. Still there was no hesitation as she and her squad turned and ran into the trench. They all knew what they were going to see, a lot of dead humans and living demons that needed to die. They had to hit hard and ruthlessly if they were to have any hope of clearing it out.

What she saw was the last thing she expected. Most of the soldiers were firing at horde. The children and teenagers were helping the wounded, moving the dead out of the way and handing out weapons and ammo. Dozens of demons littered the ground, most of them had diseased wounds that smelled of rot.

From the far end of the trench rose an inhuman shriek.

Waving to her squad, she ran towards the noise.

A four armed Brute threw a dead man to the ground. Floria raised her shotgun, ready to take its head off, when the demon screamed and turned to ash. Getting closer, she watched in amazement as several demons tried to escape over the side of the trench.

Floria saw the Regua and felt her heart soar. No wonder the demons were fleeing, they couldn't stand against the Emperor. Dark energy flashed and surged around the saviour, as she slashed at the demons who dared stand against her.

A Crusher jumped into the trench, its fists raised ready to kill. It swung its massive arms, hitting the Regua, sending her flying backwards.

“Kill it!” Floria shouted in rage, firing as she did.

The monster crashed to the ground, its body riddled with bullets.

The Regua got to her feet and raced towards the body, placing her hands on it. Nothing happened and she gave a monstrous shriek. Then the young woman turned to glare at Floria and her squad. The Regua's face was twisted in rage, streaked with blood and dirt, a monstrous mockery of the confident and cheerful woman, Floria had met earlier.

For a moment it looked like The Regua would attack them. Then the woman turned away and did the most insane thing Floria had ever seen, she climbed out of the trench and charged the demons.

For a moment, she and her squad could only stare in astonishment and disbelief. No one could get out of the trench and survive. The artillery, gunfire and demons would kill anyone in a matter of minutes, if they were lucky.

“Protect the Regua! Stay low!” she shouted, climbing out of the trench. She was going to die, but she'd die doing her duty.

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