The True Enemy Revealed

by Jason Cheek

  “To be completely honest, Sir. All that I can tell you is it had something to do with a rope and a dive off of a tower top with Helgath on his back.” Dell lowered his voice. “I promised the Dark Elf that the drinks were on me if he’d explain the technique in detail when this was all over.”

  “This sounds like something I need to get in on too,” Thomas said with a laugh. Seeing the troopers splitting off to their various positions, he held out a hand clasping the swordsman’s wrist. “Keep safe and keep me in the loop, I’ll let you know if we need to switch over to plan B.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Assault Leader Dell said, before giving his hand a final shake and heading off.

  Entering through the open door after Trent, Thomas waved for the man to follow him up to the apartment’s roof top. While it was only a two storey structure, being on the roof made it basically three storeys high and gave him a decent view of the main avenue. Further up the street, he could clearly make out the front ranks of the Dread Pack raid as they hurried down the hill at a fast jog.

  The players were all wearing what could only be called social clothing. It was all rich and opulent. Obviously, the clothing was of earth historical designs from various ages. Floppy hats, feathered caps and other various headgear with a surprising range of colors for such a poor world. While no one seemed to be wearing any armor, everyone did have a sword and dagger or an ornate staff in their hands. These idiots looked like they were going to a medieval rave and not a fight.

  Thomas wasn’t sure if that was done on purpose to make people take them for granted or was it simply because they felt overconfident in their Flame Shield ability. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Still, there was something about the mass of players coming down the hill that seemed off. He was just doing a rough head count, when his stomach suddenly twisted in consternation. That was a hell of a lot more than freaking eighty players heading down the hill! Calling up his local command channel for the raid, he began speaking quickly.

  “Assault Leader Dell, I believe we have a slight problem.”

  “Sir?”

  “Does Nuri know how to count?” Thomas asked sarcastically, doing his best not let the creeping panic color his voice.

  “That’s my fault, sir.” Assault Leader Dell said with a sigh. “I told everyone to hold off on updates while we were fighting, unless it was a life or death situation.” Thomas explosively let out the breath he was holding, immediately understanding what had probably occurred. His reasoning was confirmed a second later when the professional swordsman continued. “Team-Leader Haag was just updating me when I arrived that another eight newfar joined the main group as they passed by the arena.”

  “Well shit on me,” Thomas said unhappily.

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “Sorry, it’s just a saying where I come from,” Thomas said, rolling his eyes. He could almost hear Dell’s unspoken comment, before the man simply replied with an affirmative. Without culture context, he was sure the saying sounded odd as hell. “Well, this changes everything. As Star would say, it’s time to go with plan B.”

  “You only gave us a plan A, sir.” Assault Leader Dell respectfully reminded his current boss.

  “I know, so I need you to listen closely. Here is what we are going to do.” Coming to the end of his spiel, he heard the follow up commands as Assault Leader Dell began issuing orders to Trent and the other Team Leaders, when Sir Hemmet switched over to the raid’s command channel.

  “Commander Anderson,” the older knight’s stern voice came over the channel. “Am I correct in assuming you’re not going to use the sailors or the Royal Knights in the first wave of the attack to break the enemies’ lines?”

  “That is correct, Sir Hemmet,” Thomas replied as he watched the front line of players enter the trap.

  “Commander Anderson, I must protest,” the knight said in a huff.

  “While I appreciate the offer, we’ll need your people soon enough if the opening attack succeeds as planned.” Thomas said, cutting the man off before he could get going. Unfortunately, the old bird wasn’t going to be denied as he started up again.

  “Look here, newfar.” Sir Hemmet said, the rebuke plain as day in his voice. “While capable in limited situations, the peasants of the Royal Army are neither properly armored nor trained to take on this type of role-“

  “Who said anything about the Royal Army leading the assault? Did someone change my orders?” Thomas asked, raising his voice as he looked at Trent for confirmation. In that moment, he noticed the tightening of the other man’s lips at being called peasants and at the accusation of not being capable of following orders.

  “No change has been issued to countermand your order of attack since you implemented plan B, Commander.” The lean man reported as he snapped to attention. An ugly frown came to Thomas’ lips while his eyes dangerously narrowed. Unconsciously, his voice took on a gruff undertone as he let his two decades of being a combat sergeant shine through.

  “Sir Hemmet, the order of battle is unchanged as far as you or any of your forces are concerned. When the command is given, follow orders and attack. Hopefully, your group of nobles and sailors can manage at least that simple task. Rest assured that your people will be the first living troops to lead the charge.” Thomas heard the other man take a hesitant breath. Instantly, he understood the problem. None of those proud nobles had accepted Star’s Dark magic, so they had no concept of how the zombie shock troops functioned. Shaking his head, he continued in a harsh voice.

  “Sir Hemmet, due to your stubbornness, you and your Royal Knights are still not up to speed on the new capabilities of our units, nor do I have the time or the willingness to catch you up to speed in the middle of a battle. Your Princess gave her oath to Lord Ironwolf that you’d follow his representative’s orders. Can I rely on you to do so now or not?”

  “Our forces will hold to the letter of our oaths,” the man gritted out through clenched teeth.

  “Excellent, wait for your orders and let me get back to leading this attack,” Thomas said, almost snarling.

  “By your leave, commander.” Sir Hemmet replied stiffly, the obvious distaste for the situation evident in his every word. Pushing the annoying man out of his thoughts, Thomas held his hand up towards Trent.

  “Five second count,” Thomas called out as the command was passed down the line. “Everyone start casting!” The timing was going to be close. Silently counting down the sixty seconds, he watched an overly bejeweled man in the front of the raid pointedly frown at the Orc and Goblin bodies scattered up and down the street as he came to an abrupt stop.

  “Goddammit! When did the northern tribes get here and who the hell killed them all?” the man groused in an authoritative voice, kicking one of the gray corpses. “I don’t remember Amron sending out an update about them arriving?” Throwing his hands up in the air, he began hurrying even faster down the street bitching up a storm. “If he fucked this deal up, I’m so ripping his guts out.”

  Thomas let out a sigh of relief as their casting came to an end with the enemy’s raid still completely in the middle of the trap. Immediately, seventy-one of the seventy-six zombies strewn across the street turned feral. With guttural growls they sprang onto the oblivious players closest to them in an undead feeding frenzy of epic proportions, while the remaining five zombies that were still under control attacked their prey in a more coordinated manner. As players began shrieking in surprise and terror at the horrific assault, the new wave of zombies that had just been raised rushed into the chaotic melee from the surrounding buildings up and down the street.

  Even with the surprise of the ambush, almost two-thirds of the raid managed to get their Flame Shields up as ‘Flame On’ could be heard up and down the streets. The zombie attacks were just terrifyingly brutal as feral undead claws shredded clothing and bare skin like tissue paper as their fangs ripped into players’ faces, shoulders, and chests. The truly horrific nature of the still rot
ting corpses hit the Dread Pack raid members on a primal level as they spammed out their Flamethrower attacks all around them.

  Instead of dying from being burned alive, the still rotting corpses filled the air with the putrid stench of burning flesh that made it almost unbearable to breathe as the second wave of zombies slammed into the standing Flame Shielded players. At first, many of the players didn’t even realize they were under attack, until the warning went out in raid chat. Not that anyone could particularly hear the warnings with the shrieks of those being savagely eaten alive. Even then, it was only the Goblin zombies that burned, since even in death the Orc corpses were mostly immune to magic fire. Signaling Trent to follow him, Thomas’ command voice rang out in raid chat.

  “All forces attack! Focus on the enemies that still have their Flame Shields up!” Drawing his Mortician Cleaver from his back, he headed out the open door at a run screaming, “Charge!”

  Like him, the Cobra Kai twins had gotten their two-handed mauls out as Trent and the rest of his Devil Dogs formed up around him in a wedge formation. As he raised the two-handed cleaver above his head, Sara let loose an Ice Barrage in the middle of the enemy group of twenty or so players that had pulled together in a defensive circle as they blasted at the waves of zombies tearing apart their guildmates. In actuality, they were slaughtering more of their own people in the waves of Flame Strikes.

  Thomas wasn’t sure if that was a blessing in surprise or not as he flinched uncomfortably at the players who were burning alive as zombies ripped them to shreds. Most only now were beginning to draw their blades as they struggled against their feral attackers. Thomas almost felt sorry for them, once you thought about the massive amount of Hit Points each Nightmare player had. After living through having ninety percent burns on his own body from hitting an IED with his HUMV, it still gave him “The Willies” even in this virtual world to see people burning to death.

  Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to deal with any PTSD dreams tonight when he slept after running through this burning hellhole. In truth, charging the line of Flame Shielded players took everything he had. If not for Thompson’s Holy Shield popping in place around him, he wasn’t sure if he could face the fear of being virtually burned to death after going through it in real life.

  Those disturbing thoughts disappeared a moment later as he entered combat. The adrenaline pumping through his blood quickly cleared the fear away as he jumped into the air in a leaping attack. Slamming the chunk of heavy metal that was his Mortician Cleaver into the Dread Pack player’s face standing before him, Thomas howled as the man’s Flame Shield sputtered out under the blow as the cold iron smashed into the man’s shocked face. The impact sent the player stumbling back with a bloody face just as Sara’s Ice Barrage came to an abrupt end as her people entered the combat area.

  Using his whole body, Thomas spun the terrible weapon around in a cleaving arc to hack through another two players. The blow smashed through their weakened shields and sent them sprawling. Batting a sword strike away from his face with a gauntleted fist, Thomas struggled to bring his heavy two-hander up and around as Matt’s maul flattened the cloth wearer’s nose like a pancake. Before the man could recover, Trent’s sword was there skewering him in the chest, before shield bashing him back while he howled in agony.

  The Guardian Knights led by Sir Hemmet smashed into the other side of the group like a wrecking ball with their blades hacking at the players’ Flame Shields, while the rest of the Royal Knights focused on the downed players up and down the street. At the same time, the lightly armed and armored Royal Navy sailors rushed into the battle like a crazed swarm. Instead of falling back or collapsing under the weight of their assault, the Dread Pack players hit back hard with their flamethrower like blasts that bathed the sailors and knights’ entire line. While the nobles advance faltered as they turtled up behind their shields, the Navy troopers dropped dead like flies as the flames completely engulfed them.

  Thomas’ Royal Army troopers were equally hard at work, hammering at the downed players with everything they had. Still, there weren’t enough heavily armored forces to attack everyone and slowly the Nightmare players began ripping the zombies attacking them apart. Some with their bare hands, while others finally managed to hack them apart with their swords. The bad thing about attacking newfar with zombies was that they all knew you went for the head. While most had initially tried to just stab them in the skull like they did on the Walking Dead series, soon enough they discovered that it took hacking or tearing the zombies’ heads off to stop them.

  Up and down the street, pissed off players began climbing back to their feet and triggering their Flame Shields. They were covered in blood from head to toe where the zombies’ rending claws and fangs had severely savaged them. All had severe burns where their own people’s attacks had blackened their skin from friendly fire. The majority of the Dread Pack members who survived only had about a third of their Hit Points left as they rose shakily to their feet with revenge burning in their hate-filled eyes. Immediately, they began blasting the soldiers and knights with their flamethrower-like blasts, hosing their attackers down like insane pyromaniacs.

  Even hiding behind their shields, many of Thomas’ troopers were being driven back by the intensity of the flames. If not for the work of Sara and Thompson, their assault would have been turned into a complete route. Sara helped where she could as she blasted the worst areas of resistance with her Ice Barrage spell, while Thompson spammed out Regeneration as fast as he could. Between the two of them, they managed to keep the troopers alive long enough for the Dread Pack players’ Flame Shields to fail again. Once a player lost their shields, the troopers would rush in as a group to hack the PKer to death.

  Even then, it took a massive amount of melee damage to take a player down. Thomas knew from hanging out with Star that Nightmare players were tough, but the level of resistance these guys were putting up was freaking insane. It was even crazier once you realized that these players were wearing almost zero armor and had been caught in a deadly ambush with overwhelming forces. At least, Thomas had thought he’d brought overwhelming force to the table.

  Taking down the Dread Pack raid members that had managed to form up in a solid defensive circle took everything they had. Many times, they’d be hacking a player with devastating blows only to have the stinking bastard get their Flame Shield back up. It took only seconds for the player to begin hosing down their attackers’ lines with Flame Strikes while Thomas and company did their best to take the shields back down once again. A harried glance around the battlefield told the story, their assault was losing steam. The majority of the zombies were down and the regular troops were struggling to face the players’ terrible Flame Strikes to hack them to death. If they couldn’t take down the raid’s core group and reinforce the failing lines, they were going to be forced to retreat and soon, or they were going to lose everyone.

  Thomas was just about to make the call when a searing light blinded his eyes with the ringing sound of a Star Trek laser firing. Instantly, it was like a portal to the sun had burst open before him as everyone on the battlefield was forced to look away from the blinding light and waves of heat. Agonized screams filled the air in the seconds it took for the terrible light to do its work. When the ringing sound came to an abrupt end, Thomas hurriedly blinked the spots away from his eyes and looked around in awe.

  Standing proudly behind her Guardian Knights, Princess Reeva lowered her outstretched hand with a flourish as Thomas took in what had happened. The Dread Pack players’ entire defensive line holding the Royal Knights back had lost their Flame Shields from the Princess’s special attack. Many were missing arms and legs from where the powerful beam had sheared off any unarmored body part in its path. Seeing the stunned and confused looks in the Dread Pack players’ eyes, he instantly knew the tide of battle had changed. They had to strike now!

  “Rise up soldiers of the House of Kayden and send these wicked newfar to their graves!” Thomas shriek
ed out. Raising the Mortician Cleaver over his head, he howled at the top of his lungs, “Charge!” A wordless roar answered him from the ragged men’s throats as the troopers and Devil Dogs raised their weapons and charged into the teeth of the enemy.

  ***

  Sarka hurriedly modified her battle plans after hearing about the Flame Shield from Star and Thomas. The massive force the Devil Dog guild leader had reported moments ago headed his way had made her scramble to do what she could to take these murderous bastards out as quickly as possible. If she were fast enough, maybe she could to come to Thomas’ rescue. He’d warned both Phoenix and her to copy the strategy he was laying down the best they could, at least for the zombies since this would probably be the only chance they got to use it during the entire battle for Darom.

  Lyle Runeschoff, the Team Leader that Assault Leader Dell had assigned to her, was very attentive. He dedicatedly carried out her orders without any attitude, which was at odds with what she would’ve normally expected from such a mountain of a man. His tight red cornrows and braided beard that bobbed around as he hurriedly got her troopers moving gave him a ferocious presence as he worked. While none of her swordsmen’s bow skills were at the level of a ranger like Unalia, they were all experienced hunters, which was as much skill as she needed them to have for her plan to work. At least, that’s what she hoped.

  Thomas’ innovative use of zombies was a page taken right out of Star’s handbook of ‘messed up shit to pull out of your ass.’ and was perfect for increasing her forces by nearly another third. Similar to the Devil Dog guild leader’s woes, Darkhorse’s stealth group had reported in that instead of facing a forty player raid like they’d originally thought, the Dread Pack raid leader had pulled in all of the pillaging groups into his force along the way and now they were facing a group of Nightmare players that numbered fifty-five strong. That meant she could only bring about three to one odds to bear against the enemy.