The Wither King
Page 18
The zombies screamed in rage and ran to their fallen comrades as the NPCs streaked past them through the night. Watcher slowed for a moment and glanced at his companions. No one was missing … good.
“Mapper … where’s Mapper?” Watcher shouted.
“Here I am.” The old man was at the rear of the company, running next to Fencer.
“Mapper, lead everyone to the Cave of Slumber,” Watcher said. “Blaster, Cutter and I will take up the rear and make sure the zombies don’t attack.”
“You aren’t doing that without me,” Planter said, a stern expression on her square face. “Someone needs to be there to keep you three out of trouble.”
“Great, we could use your bow.” Watcher smiled. “Mapper … go!”
The old man sprinted forward, following the map, the remaining NPC warriors following him. Behind them, Watcher and his friends slowly walked backward, watching for a counterattack.
“Okay, genius,” Blaster said. “How are we going to find the Cave without the map?”
“I can feel its pull,” Watcher said.
Planter nodded in agreement.
That’s strange, he thought.
They moved through the high grass, the sounds of Mapper and the others fading into the night. Eventually, they turned and ran, following the trail of crushed grass, but after a dozen blocks, the landscape changed from grassy plains into a desert. Footprints could be seen in the sand, marking where Mapper and the others had run.
“At least this desert hasn’t been melted into glass,” Cutter said.
“Not yet, anyway,” Planter added with a glance toward Watcher.
They continued backwards across the sands, watching out for pursuers, as the sun started to peek up from behind the eastern horizon. The sky became a wash of pale reds and oranges as dawn spread across the landscape, adding much-needed color to the pallid landscape.
“Look.” Cutter pointed back toward the grassland.
Five gold-clad zombie warriors emerged from the dark grass with three wolves on their right flank. They walked slowly toward the villagers, looks of rage and determination on their square faces. Floating above them was Krael, the king of the withers, the two golden Crowns of Skulls shining bright on his heads in the rosy dawn light.
“You have come to the end of your days, boy!” Krael shouted. “My zombies will feast on your XP, and then my wither army will cover the lands of Minecraft with misery and grief.”
Watcher and the others said nothing. They just continued to walk backward, ready and waiting for the attack to come.
“I can see the entrance to the Cave of Slumber,” Planter said in a low voice. “I think we should make a run for it.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Watcher said as he continued to move backward. “Here’s what I want to do. Cutter, you and Blaster—”
“Here’s a little gift, wizard!” Krael yelled, launching a volley of flaming skulls at the four NPCs.
“Forget the plan,” Watcher said. “Run!”
They turned and ran, the dark skulls exploding on the ground behind them, carving a huge crater into the ground.
Ahead, Mapper stood next to a tunnel entrance carved into the side of a huge mountain of sand and sandstone.
“Hurry … hurry!” the old NPC shouted.
Watcher sprinted across the sands, his friends running ahead of him. He put away the Flail of Regrets and drew Needle in case he needed to bat away a flaming skull. A huge explosion rocked the landscape, causing cubes of sand to shift around him, but the mountain before him held steady. Around the mountain, the blocks of sand and sandstone shimmered with a purple luminescence; clearly, they were protected by some kind of enchantment.
“Hurry … he’s firing again!” Mapper shouted.
Watcher turned just as Krael launched another barrage of flaming skulls, one of them heading right at Watcher. Fear shot down every nerve, making him shiver with fright.
Relax and knock them away, a voice said in his mind.
Is that you, Needle? Watcher thought.
Just stop and relax, the voice said.
Stopping his retreat, Watcher turned and faced the skulls heading straight for him.
“Watcher, what are you doing?” Planter shouted behind him. “Run!”
Taking a deep breath, Watcher tried to relax, even though he had an overwhelming urge to turn and flee. But instead, he trusted the voice in his head and focused on the wither king’s attack.
The skulls were getting closer … and closer … and closer, until …
Needle suddenly moved on its own, forcing the muscles in Watcher’s arm to react as the magical blade struck out at the flaming skulls, deflecting the three projectiles with such speed, the sword was just a blur. It ricocheted each skull back toward the zombies’ right flank, directly at the remaining direwolves. The flaming skulls exploded when they hit the ground, enveloping the animals in a mighty blast, destroying two of them, leaving only one alive.
Now … RUN! the voice shouted in Watcher’s mind.
Watcher turned and fled to the entrance of the Cave of Slumber, the bloodthirsty surviving members of the Broken Eight and the enraged king of the withers right on his heels.
They sprinted through the passage, terrifying snarls and moans filling the air behind them. Light from Watcher’s glowing arms and shoulders lit the passage with a lavender hue, giving the villagers just enough light to see the ground. They should have been watching for pressure plates, trip wires, and other traps, but fear now controlled the NPCs.
Watcher glanced over his shoulder, expecting a golden zombie or flaming skull to enter the passage after them, but so far it was empty save for his friends. Blaster followed him, the boy’s dark armor making him difficult to see. The entrance to the tunnel was now dark, as the walls of the corridor were free from any enchantments like those on the mountainside. If the wither fired one of his flaming skulls into the passage, he could cause the entire tunnel to collapse under an avalanche of sand and gravel; they had to be careful.
Suddenly, Watcher collided with the sandy wall. He hadn’t noticed the passage turned to the right.
“Maybe avoid walking into the walls,” Blaster said with a grin.
“I was watching for the monsters.”
Blaster nodded and helped his friend to his feet. “I blocked off the tunnel with some stone. It should give us a little time to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?” Watcher asked.
“It seems this is gonna be our last stand.” Blaster put a hand on Watcher’s shoulder. “Either we’re walking out of this passage or an army of withers is; I don’t see another option. We need to be prepared for the battle that’s coming.”
Watcher nodded, then followed as Blaster sprinted through the winding, descending tunnel. Eventually, Watcher could see the end of the sandy hallway. Warm yellow light filled the opening, but not the flickering kind from a torch or fireplace; this was a constant source, unwavering for centuries.
When he reached the corridor’s end, Watcher was shocked by what he found. The tunnel spilled into a massive room shaped like a huge cylinder. It must have been at least thirty blocks across, its ceiling easily two dozen blocks high. It looked like some kind of meeting hall or assembly area.
“Maybe it was the place where the wizards stayed while they were constructing the Cave,” someone said in awe.
Watcher glanced at the voice and found Mapper staring at the surroundings, a look of wonder on his wrinkled face. Everything around them was white, with the walls, floor, and ceiling constructed from blocks of pristine quartz. Redstone lanterns mounted to the ceiling bathed the room in a warm yellow light. Across the floor and walls, embedded redstone blocks created complex geometric patterns, with a great spiral on the floor turning from the walls to the center of the chamber. It was fantastic.
Brewing stands and crafting benches stood along one wall with a line of furnaces on either side, although no fires burned in the furnaces, their surfaces having g
one cold many centuries ago. On another wall, tall shelves of books surrounded enchantment tables. A book sat open on a black-and-red table, the pages leafing back and forth on their own. Tiny letters floated from the book to the table, adding magical power to the enchantments.
A howl suddenly sliced through the circular chamber. Tiny, square goosebumps formed on Watcher’s arms when a vicious moan was soon added to the wolf’s angry voice. Pounding footsteps echoed through the passage as more growling moans filled the chamber.
“Build some defenses, fast!” Cutter set blocks of stone on the ground, forming a barricade across the center of the room. The others did the same, adding their blocks to those Cutter was hurriedly placing on the ground.
Watcher glanced around at their surroundings, then stared down at the Gauntlets of Life. There was nothing alive in this chamber; all the blocks were inert. That meant the Gauntlets of Life would offer no aid in their hour of need.
“Then we’ll just have to do this on our own,” Watcher whispered to himself.
He glanced around the room, looking for anything that might help them, like some ancient artifact or weapon yet to be used. But there was nothing but bookcases, crafting tables and brewing stations.
The howl and moans were getting louder.
And then he saw it: another passage leading out of the room. It was a wide tunnel, four blocks wide and six high.
I bet that leads to the Cave of Slumber, Watcher thought.
Running to the tunnel, he sprinted through the dark passage, the enchantments pulsing through his body lighting the walls and floor. The corridor smelled musty and old, as if it had been empty for centuries. Dust kicked up into the air as he ran, tickling his nose and making him cough. The corridor angled upward as it burrowed through the mountain of sand and sandstone until it finally ended. And what it revealed was shocking.
Before him was a gigantic, perfectly spherical chamber; it was the Cave of Slumber. The walls of the Cave sparkled with a purple glow; clearly, they were enchanted, probably to make escape impossible. Other tunnels could be seen piercing the sides of the Cave, each leading into the chamber from somewhere different. Redstone lanterns floated in the air all throughout the cave, each atop a redstone block that floated on nothing; the rules of physics didn’t apply in Minecraft.
The light from the redstone lanterns illuminated a sea of withers that hovered in the air, each motionless, their three skulls leaning to the side, as if they were asleep. There were hundreds of them, each identical in appearance; this was Krael’s wither army.
“The king of the withers cannot be allowed to have this army,” Watcher whispered to the silent chamber.
The withers were not spread out evenly in the chamber. In fact, it seemed as if the monsters had been flying toward the far side of the cave, trying to reach something, when they fell asleep and froze in place.
And then he saw it. A sparkling gold thing sat on the far side of the Cave atop a pedestal made of sandstone. Watcher took a step into the cave to try to get a better look, and instantly, he started feeling fatigued, the longing thought of a blissful sleep growing in his mind. As quickly as he could, he stepped back, realizing the magic of the cave had started acting on him.
Far behind him, someone yelled, their pain-filled voice echoing up through the passage and into the Cave of Slumber. The pinging sound of arrows bouncing off shields followed the shout; the zombies had made it into the quartz chamber.
“I have to get back to my friends.”
The sounds of fighting echoed through the passage. But before he turned, Watcher found his eyes drawn again to that iridescent thing on the other side of the chamber. The gold artifact shone brightly, but this time he could also see tiny black objects around the top. And then a realization dawned on him: it was the third Crown of Skulls.
If Krael gets that artifact, then his power may become unlimited, voices said within his mind. In fact, he realized, it was three voices all speaking at once, likely from the Flail, Needle, and the Gauntlets of Power.
Watcher could feel the three artifacts agreeing.
“I have to get that before the wither does.” Someone shouted in pain again behind him. “But first I have to check on my friends.”
Turning, he sprinted back through the sandstone tunnel and entered the quartz chamber. Near the opposite wall, the zombie warriors were trying to enter the chamber, but the other NPCs were flooding the entrance with arrows; the Eight couldn’t take a step into the room without being hit by a dozen arrows at the same time. He doubted any of the zombies or the lone direwolf would survive that, which gave the villagers a little time, but only until they ran out of arrows.
Glancing around the room, he found Blaster and ran to him. “Blaster, I found the Cave of Slumber.”
“That’s really great, but how about you help us out here? Do your magic thing,” Blaster said.
Watcher wanted to reach into his inventory and draw the Bow of Destruction, but then a plan materialized in his head.
“Blaster, I have an idea, but you’ll need to trust me … everyone will need to trust me.”
Blaster glanced at his friend between shots. “OK, what do you need us to do?”
He motioned for Planter to come to his side, and then he explained his plan to the two of them. Blaster grinned, then ran off to tell the others.
“Are you with me?” Watcher asked Planter.
She nodded, but when her eyes fell upon the Gauntlets of Life, she scowled, then nodded again.
“OK, then, come with me,” Watcher said. “We’ll get only one shot, so we need to make it a good one.”
Watcher and Planter moved to the side of the room and prepared their trap, both knowing that if they messed this up, they were all doomed.
Watcher and Planter moved to the side of the chamber and positioned themselves out of sight behind a set of bookshelves while all the other NPCs continued to fire at the entrance, keeping the zombies back.
Drawing the Fossil Bow of Destruction from his inventory, Watcher waved it to Blaster, who nodded and gave Watcher a grin.
“I’m running out of arrows,” Blaster said loudly as he ducked behind the cobblestone defensive wall. “Does anyone have any?”
“I’m out too,” Cutter shouted.
The villagers all stopped firing and hid behind their barricades with more declarations of running out of arrows.
A vile laugh floated from the passage. It was a scratchy, hacking sound that was joined by two others, one booming, the other lyrical and smooth. They brought chills to Watcher’s soul. He knew those voices; it was Krael, the king of the withers.
“It seems you’ve run out of arrows.” The monster laughed. “Zombies, move forward.”
The five remaining members of the Broken Eight stepped into the chamber and formed a line, as if daring the NPCs to charge. No one moved, the villagers remaining hidden behind their cobblestone wall. With the sole surviving direwolf behind them, the zombie warriors moved forward, slowly advancing on the NPCs’ position.
A feeling of fear spread through the room as if it were an infectious disease; all of the NPCs completely were terrified of these monsters. They’d lost many friends already to their swords and fangs, and no one wanted to be next.
“Hurry … do something before—” a villager shouted. Someone put their hand over the scared NPC’s mouth, silencing his yells.
Krael’s laughter suddenly stopped. Watcher wanted to peer out from behind the bookcase to see what was happening, but he didn’t dare give away his position. Instead, he drew back on the Bow of Destruction, and an arrow automatically appeared on the string, its shaft glistening with magical power. The enchanted weapon reached out to Watcher’s HP, searching for power. He grunted as he flashed red, but glanced at Planter and shook his head. She had a splash potion of healing ready to use on him, but she waited until he gave the signal.
“I can feel your presence, wizard. You’re not as clever as you think.” Krael laughed again, then f
ired a barrage of flaming skulls.
The first skull slammed into the bookcase, shredding it to splinters, then the second one hit Watcher just as he released the bowstring and fired at the closest zombie. The arrow from the Fossil Bow of Destruction leaped off the string and struck the monster, passing right through his golden armor as if it were made of paper. The zombie screamed, his pain and surprise filling the chamber, then disappeared as a third flaming skull struck Watcher, knocking him to the ground. Gray spirals floated around his head as the wither effect permeated his body; he could no longer tell how much HP he had. He tried to stand, but his legs buckled under him and he fell back to the floor, severely wounded. He dropped the Bow as he struggled to stand, but lacked the strength.
“There is the wizard,” Center said, Left and Right grinning. “Zombies, destroy him!”
A sense of helplessness spread through Watcher. He was too weak to stand, and he couldn’t protect Planter … they were doomed.
But then, Planter did something that caused him to scream out in horror: she picked up the Bow and pulled back on the string. A flash of red light covered her body as the Bow demanded its HP price. Screaming in pain, she fired the bow. The arrow streaked through the air and missed the direwolf, embedding itself into the wall, then disappeared. The animal growled angrily.
Watcher reached into his inventory and found a potion of healing. He knew it wouldn’t do any good, but he threw the splash potion on Planter anyway. The liquid hit her and splashed onto him too, giving Watcher a little more strength. But the strangest thing was, it seemed to help Planter as well, even though she was using the Bow.
Watcher glanced at the zombies; they were still in a line, advancing across the room. “Aim for the last zombie.” Watcher’s voice was weak. He summoned all his strength. “Aim for the last zombie before it’s too late.”
Planter glanced down at him as another wave of torture crashed down upon her. With an agonized scream, she fell to one knee, but still nodded her head in understanding. She pulled the string back again, causing another arrow to appear, and aimed at the farthest zombie, then closed her eyes and concentrated; the iridescent glow from the bow seemed to leak into Planter, making her glow as well. And then she released.