Overworld (Dragon Mage Saga Book 1): A fantasy post-apocalyptic story

by Rohan M Vider

  The slap of hopping feet pulled my attention back to the river. The murluks were charging again.

  “Right, let’s get back in line,” Tara ordered.

  I took my place a step behind her again just as our first opponent appeared. Tara parried, then thrusted. Following her attack, I jabbed out. The murluk fell dead and the next took its place.

  Tara stepped forward. I advanced with her, but this time I did not wait for her to initiate. Lunging past my mentor, I used my longer reach to bury my spear into the murluk’s midriff before he could launch his own attack.

  The creature staggered backwards, rocked temporarily off-balance. Tara exploited the opening I created. Dancing forward, she skewered the hapless murluk.

  After the murluk fell, Tara glanced back at me and smiled in approval. “Think you can do that again?”

  I nodded, elated by our success. That time, I had played more than a token role in the battle. That time, I had helped Tara cut down our foe quicker.

  “Alright, then let’s do it again,” Tara said.

  Advancing, she searched for our next victim. A murluk rushed past and attempted to flank one of our companions on the line. I reached out and jabbed my spear at its legs, tripping it up.

  Before the luckless creature could heave itself back to its feet, Tara slammed her own spear through its back and killed it instantly. Pulling out her weapon with a spurt of blood, she turned a wry look upon me. “Let’s not get too creative just yet, fish. Keep it simple.”

  I accepted her rebuke with good grace, and we moved on to hunt down more murluks.

  We made a good team. Each time, I initiated combat and fouled the murluks’ attacks with my longer reach. After I did, Tara stepped in and finished our prey with a single, lethal strike. The murluks, for all the superiority of their numbers, were defenceless in the face of our coordinated attacks.

  My crippled foot, despite my concerns, did not hamper me as much as I had feared. Tara had been right. The long spear was an easy weapon, and the simple attacks I was employing did not require complex footwork, nor was speed a factor in the thick mud of the lower bank.

  Indeed, as my awareness of the battle expanded, I realised that teamwork and discipline was what differentiated the two forces. Glancing along our defensive line, I saw that where the murluks fought individually—many times getting in each other’s way—the human fighters moved together as a cohesive force. This, more than anything else, drove our success.

  But eventually the weight of the murluks’ numbers began to tell and forty yards to our left the defensive line started to cave.

  “Tara! I need your help! To me, quickly!” shouted John. “We need to reinforce the centre or the battle is lost.”

  Tara’s head whipped around to stare in the direction John pointed. The green-eyed fighter ground her teeth in frustration. “Damn it,” she muttered. She swung back to me, throwing a quick assessing glance at my leg before resting her gaze on my face. “Sorry, Jamie, I have to go. Will you be—”

  “Go,” I said, cutting her off with a lopsided smile. “I’ll be fine.”

  I hoped.

  Tara threw me a sharp nod, then took off sprinting south along the back of the line towards the hotspot. “Stay alive, fish. I’ll be back,” she called just before disappearing out of earshot.

  I turned my attention back to the battle. None of the murluks were advancing towards me just yet. In fact, Tara and I had done so well at killing the creatures that a spot of emptiness had opened up in front of us. I licked suddenly dry lips. With Tara gone, I was sure that would not last.

  Sooner or later, one of the creatures would spot me alone and vulnerable. “Why did you let her go, Jamie?” I muttered to myself, feeling a spurt of anxiety. “That was foolish. How are you going to survive now?”

  A few feet to my right, Michael fought with his unit, and on my left, more human fighters battled together. Even though I was bracketed by my fellows on both ends, I felt alone.

  I did not know how to fight with either group of men. Untrained and crippled as I was, I doubted they would welcome me within their formations.

  None of them were Tara.

  It took a special skill, I realised, to do what Tara had done. To train an unskilled raw recruit, and at the same time integrate his unfocused attacks with your own. My appreciation for my mentor’s efforts grew.

  But now I was without her, and I would have to fend for myself.

  I took a cautious step back and waited. I knew my own limits. On my own I did not stand much chance against a murluk. So, I would fight defensively, and only when forced to.

  Until Tara returned.

  It did not take long for one of the murluks to spot me and mark me as easy prey. Loping forward, the murluk shoved his spear—almost lazily—towards me.

  I swayed out of the way and thrust back, clipping the creature on the shoulder.

  The murluk hopped away and slurped angrily before advancing again, this time with renewed vigour.

  I tightened my grip on my weapon and waited.

  The creature jabbed at my torso. I tried to dodge, but with my crippled foot, I was too slow. The murluk’s spear skidded off my armour and scored a line of fire along my side. I gasped but ignored the pain. The spear had failed to penetrate my leather vest, though it still knocked the wind out of me.

  I staggered backwards and managed to retain my feet, but the murluk did not let up. He followed through with another attack and thrust upwards at my face. I swayed and barely avoided being skewered.

  He stabbed again, aiming for heart. I angled my spear upwards and parried away the blow, my teeth clenched with the effort. Although half my size, the murluk was much stronger than me, and it took every ounce of my strength to push aside his blade.

  I realised I had to change tactics. The murluk was the better fighter, and the longer our exchange went on, the more likely I was to die. I had to take to a risk and abandoned defence.

  Stepping forward, I jabbed my elbow down into the shorter murluk’s face. He staggered back—mostly from shock, I think. Before the creature could recover, I shoved my spear between his legs and twisted, tripping him up.

  With a surprised slurp, the murluk fell back.

  I didn’t let up. Closing the distance to my downed foe, I straddled his body and pinned him to the ground under my weight.

  I felt the murluk writhe beneath me. He was too strong. I would not be able to hold him down for long. In near panic, I raised my spear up high and thrust down. The murluk shrieked and tried to batter me away. I fended off his blows and jabbed into him again.

  Blood spurted and clouded my vision. Ignoring the red haze, I brought my spear down once more. The murluk’s motions slowed.

  I didn’t stop.

  I thrust downwards again, blindly burying my weapon into his torso. Then I did it again. And again. Gore and guts drenched my hands, face, and neck. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I had to make sure he was dead. It was him or me. I couldn’t die here. If I did, who would avenge Mum? Crimson tears flowed down my cheeks. Oh Ma.

  Ruthlessly, I shoved aside my grief and let fury consume me in its stead. The murluk was not just my enemy, he was an agent of the Trials. Another one responsible for my mum’s death. He had to die. With a tortured cry, I stabbed my spear down again.

  The murluk had stopped moving. Was he dead? I couldn’t be certain. But I couldn’t let up. I had to—

  Burning agony rippled across my back. Like a splash of cold, clarity returned and the cruel mix of rage, grief, and hysteria was banished. Shocked back to my senses, I stared down at my hands in horror.

  What was I doing?

  A second blow followed in the wake of the first. I arched my back in surprise and pain. A murluk was attacking me from behind. The creature’s spear had torn through my armour and now my own blood drenched me as well.

  Abandoning my weapon—still stuck in my dead foe—I rolled away and by happensta
nce more than skill dodged my attacker’s next strike.

  I wiped away the muck obscuring my vision and looked up to see the murluk’s looming advance. My breath quickened. I was in trouble. There was no way I could get to my feet in time to escape his attack. Choosing an unconventional tactic once more, I rolled—this time towards the murluk.

  Caught off guard, the creature was slow in reacting. He thrust downwards but missed. I bowled him over and began to push myself upright. Even so, hampered by my crippled foot, I wasn’t quick enough, and the murluk beat me in the race to get up. Damn it, I thought as I stared at the creature bearing down on me again.

  It was time to cast invincible.

  Opening my magesight, I began to manifest my spirit.

  A spear blossomed out of the murluk’s torso. Startled, I dropped my spellcasting.

  A smiling Michael appeared from behind the slumped-over corpse. “Looked like you needed a hand.”

  “Thanks,” I gasped. Clambering back to my feet, I picked up the dead murluk’s fallen spear.

  Michael clasped a hand to my shoulder. “Come on, let’s get back in line. Things are about to get much worse.”

  I looked to where Michael’s gaze rested. The murluks on the northern end of the line had pulled back and were regathering not thirty yards ahead of us. Their numbers were being reinforced by more of their fellows that emerged from the river.

  I glanced down the line. The murluks had not pulled back everywhere. The southern flank was being pressed hard and matters in the centre still looked bleak. All was swirling chaos there.

  Even with the help of Tara and John’s men, it didn’t seem a certainty they would hold. I swallowed. We would get no help from there, not yet.

  We would have to fend off the next attack on our own.

  Chapter 14

  391 days until the Arkon Shield falls

  Overworld is too dangerous for the humans to survive on their own. Let them come to us with caps in hand. Or perish through their own folly. —Unknown royal advisor.

  I limped after Michael and re-joined the line.

  While we waited for the next attack, I rolled up my leather vest and inspected the jagged wound in my lower back. The spear hadn’t penetrated deep and the bleeding had slowed. I breathed easier. It seemed I would live.

  Yet the wound still throbbed each time I moved. In the first few moments after the attack, fear and adrenaline had masked the pain, but now… now I wondered if I could still fight. I glanced at the gathering murluks and felt my expression harden. There was no choice.

  It was fight or run. And I would not flee.

  I turned my focus inwards and checked my player progress in the Trials core. During the last murluk wave my body had gone through further enhancements, and I had gained more knowledge. Calling up the Trials alerts, I reviewed the changes.

  You have gained in experience and are now a: level 6 Neophyte.

  Your agility has increased to: level 3.

  Your strength has increased to: level 4.

  Your skill using light armour has advanced to: level 1.

  Your skill with spears has advanced to: level 7.

  I was stronger, faster, tougher, and had become more adept with my weapon. At any other time, I would have been astounded by the changes to myself. But now? Now I despaired I still hadn’t learned enough to survive the next wave.

  I leaned on my spear and bowed my head. When will this battle end? I wondered. All I had done since coming to Overworld was fight or wait to fight. Earth seemed a long way away now. Is every day on this world going to be like this?

  “Get ready,” shouted Michael.

  I looked up. The murluks had begun their advance.

  Grimacing at the pain my movement caused, I brought up my spear and held it ready while watching the oncoming horde.

  There were so many. And this time, neither I nor the rest of the men on this part of the line had Tara to protect us. “Can we hold them?” I asked Michael.

  “Forget the bigger picture, fish,” replied Michael. “Just keep your position in the wall.” But the slight tremble in his hands betrayed his own nerves.

  He doesn’t think we’re going to survive.

  I looked along the lines of men on the right flank, at their dispirited gazes, weary stances, and drooping weapons. How many of them will die in the next few minutes? I wondered. Too many.

  I glanced at the murluks and contemplated a crazy idea. If I am going to die here, what do I have to lose? I bit my lip. Nothing.

  Shrugging, I charged.

  Well, it was more of a fast hop, really, a not-so-funny parody of the murluks’ own gaits, but it was the fastest speed I could manage. The system thought so too.

  Your agility has increased to: level 4.

  I chuckled darkly at the Trials’ message.

  “Jamie, get back here! What do you think you are doing, you stupid fish?” Michael growled from behind me.

  I ignored him. My eyes were fixed on the fast-approaching murluks. I fancied I could see the creatures’ eyes widen, amazed by the sight of the lone human charging them.

  I grinned. Almost knee deep in the river now, I stopped. I had advanced far enough away from our lines. Planting my feet in the muddy river-bottom, I crouched low and held my spear at the ready. Waiting.

  I only have to keep my feet, I reminded myself.

  The murluks drew closer. Tens of spears were hefted in the air and held ready to skewer the foolish human in their path. Watching the creatures through narrowed eyes, I waited until the last second.

  Now, I thought and cast invincible.

  Opening my magesight, I called on my spirit. Energy erupted out of my inner being and wove through my body, both inside and out. In a split second, my physical form was overlaid with a second one of impermeable spirit that was invisible to normal sight, but glowed radiant silver in my magesight.

  Invincible activated. You are immune to all damage for: 30 seconds.

  Spears hurtled towards me. I itched to raise my own weapon in defence, but bit back the instinct and let the wall of spears land unhindered.

  It was much harder to do than I thought.

  I squeezed my eyes shut at the moment of impact. The ping of sharpened metal tips as they clanged off my spirit form’s hardened shell was music to my ears. I smiled. It worked! I had believed it would, but that was vastly different from knowing.

  My eyes flew open.

  Murluks were converging on me from all sides. I dug my feet deeper into the mud underfoot and waited for the momentum of their charge to expend itself. I knew the greatest danger—in the next thirty seconds at least—was to be knocked down and trampled by the press of bodies above. But the frog creatures weighed little and their charge had little momentum behind it.

  I held my ground more easily than I’d expected. Once the weight pressing against me eased, I raised my head. Now let’s see how much damage I can do, I thought as I hit back at the murluks.

  My spear slid smoothly into the throat of my nearest foe. I leaned into the blow, ignoring the press of bodies and repeated jabs that bounced harmlessly off me. With a wet gurgle, the murluk died. Wrenching back my weapon, I thrust it out and sought bared flesh again.

  The murluks swirled around me. Converging on their trapped quarry, they struck at me from all sides, not understanding why their attacks were failing.

  My ploy was proving more successful than I hoped.

  I had expected at least some of the murluks to be distracted away from the human lines by my presence in their midst. What I had not anticipated was for all of them to abort their attack and fall on me instead.

  The human captains commanding the northern section, though, were alive to the opportunity I had created. Seeing that I held the attention of the nearby murluks, I heard a voice shout, “To me! Charge! Strike them down from behind!”

  I hoped Michael and the rest of his fellows on the flank heeded the call, bec
ause if they didn’t, I would be dead soon. But I had no control over what they did. I had to focus on my own actions, and do what I could to make sure I survived.

  Narrowing my focus, I concentrated on inflicting as much hurt upon the murluks as I could. Thrust and pull. Rinse and repeat. Over and over again, I jabbed down on the much shorter creatures with no care for defence at all.

  My foolish gambit was not without its own share of benefits. While, I fought, a constant stream of Trials messages scrolled through my vision.

  You have gained in experience and are now a: level 8 Neophyte.

  Your constitution and strength have increased to: level 5.

  Your vigour has increased to: level 4.

  Your skill using light armour has advanced to: level 6.

  Your skill with spears has advanced to: level 8.

  I grinned wryly. It seemed facing hundred-to-one odds—and surviving—was a good way to gain experience on Overworld. If I walk away from this alive, at least I will be stronger for the experience.

  I picked up my head at a formless roar. It was the human fighters crashing into the murluks converged around me.

  Finally, I thought. Invincible wasn’t going to last much longer. Even so, I was not sure that the right flank’s charge was going to be enough to save me.

  But it was always a gamble to begin with. I returned my attention to my bloody work and focused on reaping as grim a harvest as I could. My arms moving mechanically up and down, I slaughtered indiscriminately.

  As the spearmen’s attacks began to bear fruit, the pressure pushing against me eased. The human fighters had formed a half circle around the murluks and were dealing death, quickly and efficiently. I began to hope I might yet survive.

  Then my aura of invincibility faded.

  The blows raining down from all sides no longer bounced off. I jerked fitfully as sharpened blades bit into me and fresh waves of pain assaulted me. In a handful of seconds, my health plummeted. I lived, but that wouldn’t hold true for much longer.

  Hunkering down and weaving my spear defensively, I forwent attacking altogether.