Kingdom of the Dead

by Pavel Kornev

  The orc shrugged but didn’t question the order and went first into the corridor. It wasn’t as dark here as it had been on the upper level; the walls and ceiling emitted a faint glow which seemed to be coming from the many cracks and fissures. It felt like we were walking through the insides of a volcano.

  “What’s that further up?” Goar asked, peering intently into the gloom.

  “Turn right, then left, then there’ll be a big hall,” the Count said, remembering the way. “Last time we had no problem getting there. Having said that, we didn’t come across any ghostly ambushers last time, either.”

  The orc nodded and went to have a look. Once we’d cleared the first bend, the tunnel grew considerably wider. And after the second one, it appeared more like a long room.

  “We’re almost there,” the Count warned us. “Baron, check the hall.”

  Before the Baron could have even gotten a chance to stealth up, tongues of fire illuminated the tunnel. Two figures rushed toward us, engulfed in flames.

  Goar stepped toward them, meeting them with a powerful swing of his sword. As soon as its blade met its target, a powerful explosion shuddered the tunnel, sending the orc flying through the air.

  A wave of unbearable heat seared my face. Still, the fire died out quickly without really hurting any of us.

  Dead guards poured out of the hall armed with spears, their bodies charred. I stepped toward them. Crouching, I took a swing with my flamberge, aiming at the blackened spear shafts. I managed to lop off several spearheads; the Baron jumped onto my back and dove into the breach formed by my attack. Like a gray shadow, the Count joined the resulting melee.

  I slashed the nearest guard across the legs and stepped back, readying myself to stop a potential attempt at a breakthrough. A fireball came flying from behind the guards’ heads and hit me in the chest, exploding and throwing me back several feet.

  The flames had failed to set my rogue’s smock on fire. Isabella managed to repel the next fireball.

  “Kill the wizard!” she shouted, upping the protection.

  I couldn’t see Goar anywhere. The vampires were busy fighting the guards and a few knights who’d arrived to their aid. I dove into stealth and dashed across the corridor ringing with the clamor of steel toward the next hall. My Dodge allowed me to avoid any clashes but only just, so in the end I was forced to use up whatever was left of my mana on a Leap, miniporting behind the guards’ unwavering ranks.

  Another fireball whizzed over my head. This one was much bigger and brighter than the ones before it. I made a beeline for the abbot. Unlike his ghostly brethren, he turned out to be perfectly incarnate. His burned hands protruded from the wide sleeves of his gilded cassock; his charred eye sockets emitted an infernal flame. His hovering figure exuded an enormous might.

  Throwing caution to the wind, I slashed at him with my flamberge, throwing him against the wall. His magic staff split and flew out of his hand, bursting into cascades of smokeless fire.

  The shadows which harbored me quivered, about to disperse. While Stealth still worked, I dealt him three more blows: two to both sides of his collarbone, then one to his neck.

  The abbot turned out to be immune to critical hits. But even so, his movements became sluggish. Before he could scorch me with his magic, I took another swing and in one precise blow took his charred skull off his shoulders. The moment the sword’s undulating blade sliced through his vertebrae, the skeleton crumbled to dust. His empty clothes fell in a heap to the floor.

  The Torched Abbot is killed!

  Experience: +1500 [30 929/32 500]; +1500 [30 973/32 500]

  Without wasting my time, I turned round and darted back into the corridor. I lashed out at the guards’ backs with my flamberge to scatter them, then lowered my sword onto a knight’s helmet. Isabella cast another spell, dispersing the surviving guards who were trying to fight us off by standing back to back and allowing me and the vampires to hack them to pieces without much trouble.

  How about Goar? Surprisingly, he’d managed to survive the melee simply because he’d passed out. He couldn’t even move so he just leaned his back against the wall and kept downing vialfuls of potions. The vampires didn’t look much better. The Baron had barely avoided being decapitated; a sword blow had glanced off his skull, taking a piece of scalp and his left ear with it. On top of that, the Baron sported a gaping hole which had been seared in his side. The Count had his arm almost cut off; half his face had been scorched; he also had a leg wound so deep we could see the bone.

  “You see, my boy?” Isabella waved her finger at Neo. “It’s a good job you didn’t join the fight.”

  “But Uncle John isn’t hurt!” the boy objected.

  “Uncle John has been flippin’ lucky,” the Baron grumbled as he downed a vial of bright scarlet blood.

  A shadow flitted across the far end of the corridor. It was the Marquis who’d just logged back in and hurried to rejoin us.

  “I can see you’re having fun!” he said in amazement, studying the scattered remains of the guards and the miserable state of his companions.

  “Collect the loot,” the Count ordered as he gulped from a flask. The burnt skin on his face started to turn pale and smooth. Still, he didn’t want to overexert his wounded leg and slumped to the floor.

  The Marquis started checking the guards one by one, collecting the trophies, then moved on into the hall toward the slain abbot. He picked up an amber rosary but immediately flung it down, shaking his hand. His burned fingers hissed and smoked.

  “You bastard!” he cussed as he hopped about in pain. “Bella! Come have a look!”

  Isabella walked over to him and spent some time studying the amber beads, each marked with the symbol of the true flame branded into it. Calmly she picked up the rosary and put it away in her inventory.

  “Funny thing,” she smiled nonchalantly. However, I got the impression that she’d taken a fancy to the rosary.

  The Marquis swore again.

  “Does it hurt?” Neo asked him.

  “It’ll go in a minute,” the vampire replied, then turned to his companions, ”Will you be long?”

  By then, the hole in the Baron’s side had completely closed. The Count too had already scrambled back to his feet and didn’t appear to limp too badly. The orc too got back to his feet but staggered about, swearing.

  ‘Hey, greenie, what about your internal energy and what have you?” the Baron teased him. “Come on, show us the power of the Equilibrium!”

  “I’m saving it for the dragon,” Goar grumbled as he limped toward us. “Where to now?”

  The Count looked around and confidently headed for the tunnel at the far end. Both its floor and ceiling had collapsed; only a side staircase had miraculously survived.

  “Isabella!” I snapped my fingers as an idea struck me. “And what if you cast your Rain of Fire?”

  “The dragon is almost immune to magic,” the Count reminded me. “We’ve tried everything, trust me.”

  “So what if we just jump on top of him?” I suggested jokingly, approaching a jagged hole in the floor.

  “You’re gonna break your neck.”

  I looked cautiously down and shrank back. He'd been right. The monastery’s lower level resembled a deep well, its precipitous stone walls exuding a chill from beyond the grave.

  My head began to throb: a dull, insistent pain. I nearly jumped, then breathed a sigh of relief. It was only Scarecrow who seemed to have finally bitten off more than he could chew, literally.

  The Baron was the first to descend. The Count followed.

  “The stairs lead directly into the dragon’s den,” he warned him. “So we’ll have to get ready during the last flight of steps. You!” the vampire poked Neo’s chest. “You go straight across to the sanctuary. The dragon’s protection can’t stop you. Still, I’d rather you didn’t touch anything there. Just take the artifact that’s in the adjacent room.”

  “What sort of artifact is it?” the boy tousled his r
ed mop. “How do I know it’s the right one?”

  “It’s the only one there. You can’t go wrong,” the Count replied. “Enough! Let’s get moving!”

  There were no traps on the stairs. Soon we crowded together on a tiny and very cramped landing.

  “Neo, stick behind me,” Isabella warned the boy, then began chanting a prayer to her Goddess, asking her to grant her some power.

  Goar was mumbling under his breath, mentioning the Equilibrium. The air around his black figure thickened, as if soaking up the surrounding gloom. The vampires simply drank more blood — not out of flasks this time but out of crystal vials. Their movements began to speed up, becoming sharp and jerky.

  “What a bouquet!” the Baron blew noisily when he’d finished a third vial. “Honestly, Count, from whom did you make it?”

  “Lots of people,” the Count replied evasively. His eyes had turned black; a silvery crust of frost began forming on his clothes.

  A crimson glow formed above Isabella’s head. She began casting blessings, generously sharing the power she’d just received from the Goddess. Predictably I couldn’t receive any, thanks to my immunity as an undead. I didn’t give a damn, anyway. I could do without it.

  A wave of impetuosity flooded over me. I couldn’t wait much longer. A blue haze of a regeneration spell enveloped Goar who stepped from the stairs into the dead dragon’s den. We followed.

  “Neo, get back!” Isabella hissed at the boy.

  Grudgingly he obeyed.

  “Hey greenie, the stage is yours!” the Count said. The three vampires split in order to outflank the dragon and box him in.

  I lagged behind looking for the dragon guard but he wasn’t there, the granite walls of the well still bearing the terrible claw marks as if the creature had dropped from the sky and tried to break its fall.

  “Where is he, then?” the orc asked, slowing his pace.

  A bluish black scaly monster immediately dashed toward us from a dark gaping hole in the far wall. His eyes lit up with a malicious flame; his jaws opened, revealing terrible teeth.

  Then the paladin orc poured out his power toward the dead dragon, bending reality and entrapping the creature. The captured dragon’s claws grated on the rocks. But the magic of Equilibrium had proved to be stronger, slowing the dungeon guard down until he could barely move as if in slow motion.

  Goar raised his black sword, aiming a well-calculated blow, but the Baron beat him to it. His swift shadow darted around the dragon, aiming at his flank. Almost imperceptibly, the dead monster contorted his body, grabbed the vampire and impaled him on the sharp stump of his wing, then flung him aside. One blow and he was dead! Just like that!

  “Holy shit,” I gasped. It was a good job deadmen don’t sweat, otherwise the hilt of my flamberge would have slid out of my grip.

  Everybody froze.

  “The show must go on!” the Count snapped. “Let’s get on with it!”

  The distorted reality burst at the seams as the dragon escaped his trap. Like a live torpedo it rammed the orc, hurling him against the wall. Still, all his buffs and blessings had allowed Goar to keep his footing.

  The two remaining vampires split. All of a sudden I saw the dragon’s monstrous head within spitting distance. He was only a few feet away from me. I raised my sword.

  “Let me do it!” a kid’s voice rang out.

  Apparently, Isabella had failed to keep Neo in check. He stepped toward the dragon, raising his right arm as if about to hurl an invisible spear. A blinding light enveloped him.

  “Fire in the hole!” I yelled, dropping to the ground and covering my head with my hands.

  A moment later, a wave of unbearable heat singed me. A flash of silver light blinded me even through my closed eyelids. The light spear had hit the dragon. He began to radiate white beams of light which escaped through the gaps in his rotting scales. The dungeon became as light as day.

  A thin glittering thread of energy reached out from Neo to the dragon.

  Still, the attack had failed to disembody the beast, only paralyzing him. Once the boy’s power was depleted, the monster would come round and then...

  I couldn’t count on the vampires who’d been stunned by the aftershocks of the Light magic. Goar was still trying to prize himself off the wall. I had to act on my own. The protection that had come with the sorcerous smock was barely holding up but at least the Shadow of Death shielded me from the unbearable light.

  I picked up the flamberge and...

  And then Goar lunged at the dragon and brought his own sword down onto his muscular neck. The heavy blade crunched its way through the scales already weakened by decay.

  And again! And one more for luck!

  The dragon’s severed head dropped onto the floor. His body spread over the rocks in a heap of rotting flesh.

  The shining light expired. Neo staggered; he would have collapsed had Isabella not grabbed him.

  “What’s up with him?” she asked anxiously.

  I remembered the earlier incident in the Temple. “He’ll be all right in a moment,” I told her.

  The two vampires started to come round. Goar kicked the dragon’s head. “It’s all been too easy,” he said, puzzled.

  He seemed unable to grasp the fact that he’d just single-handedly beheaded a monster like that. I understood him perfectly. Had Neo not come to our aid, the Baron wouldn’t have been the only one going back to his respawn point.

  “The sanctuary!” the Count shouted, wiping his teary eyes. “We need to take the artifact!”

  “And where’s the XP for the dragon?” Goar asked anxiously. “I haven’t received anything!”

  “Wait a sec,” I said. “It’s not over yet.”

  The dragon’s hide swelled up and burst. A creature covered in rotting flesh broke the ribs of the carcass and climbed out. It shook itself like a wet dog and stood up.

  “I’m free!” it thundered.

  Soul Eater. A Circle-5 demon

  The mind boggles.

  The incredibly tall demon noticed us and threw his arms open wide. “Come to me, my children,” he boomed. Even though his skinless half-digested flesh and bony spikes protruding out of his muscles weren’t exactly welcoming, the infernal creature’s otherworldly charm attempted to enter our minds and submit us to its will.

  All in vain. Deadmen were immune to his magic.

  But only deadmen.

  Goar staggered and very nearly fell but managed to keep his balance and began droning a monotonous prayer. Isabella hurried to draw her Mistress’ symbol in the air, then stared intently down at her feet, waiting for the mental attack to subside.

  And Neo? Neo was lying unconscious. He was little help to us now. By the same token, he couldn’t create any more problems, either.

  “Well, whatever,” the Soul Eater grumbled, burying both his hands in the dragon’s guts. When he finally straightened up, he was holding a sword, its blade consumed by a purple flame.

  “Attack!” the Count shouted, then went for him.

  The vampires disappeared in the shadows. I too hurried to stealth up, leaving Goar alone to face the demon’s attack. The Soul Eater flung a handful of dragon’s flesh at the orc, then took a swing with his sword. Goar parried it with his own but lost his footing and missed the demon’s next strike, fast and treacherous. The purple blade sliced through Goar’s heavy armor as if it were paper.

  A blue glow enveloped the paladin, restoring his health. Isabella flung another fireball at the demon but failed to deal him much damage, so she began pumping her energy into Goar’s protection instead.

  The vampires materialized behind the demon’s back and struck all together. The Marquis’ charmed rapier sank deep into the creature’s flesh but the Count’s scimitars failed to deal him any damage. Ditto for my flamberge which I’d used to slice across his legs — then barely dodged the tip of the demon’s sword aimed at my head.

  Goar jumped at his chance and cut through the demon’s collarbone. His b
lack sword of Equilibrium grated across the bone spikes, leaving a shallow wound. The Soul Eater struck back, slashing and drawing his victim. The paladin staggered and stepped back.

  I let go of the flamberge and drew the bone hook, then slid behind the demon’s back. He must have sensed my maneuver because he elbowed me away. The sharp spike had very nearly pierced the top of my head, grazed my skull and went into my shoulder.

  I shrank back while lashing out at him with the hook. Its tip easily ripped through his skinless flesh. The demon span on the spot, howling his fury. His purple blade traced a blurred arc through the air, throwing Goar back. The Marquis received a blow to his arm and recoiled. The Count, however, managed to turn into a misty cloud so the sword couldn’t harm him.

  Luckily for us, Goar was able to rejoin the battle straight away. The Marquis and myself began circling the demon, hitting his back and promptly retreating out of sword's reach. The Count kept a safe distance, incessantly casting a freezing fog.

  Finally, the demon’s movements began to slow down but even so Goar had his work cut out for him. His black armor was dented and covered in gaping holes. Isabella struggled to pump his shields with energy.

  Still, the demon’s health was gradually slipping into the red; all we had to do now was exhaust him.

  Suddenly he got a second wind. Accelerating, he swept Goar aside and threw a magic lasso around the Count, pulling him toward himself.

  The Marquis hurried to his aid but fell foul of the demon’s sword and collapsed with a broken leg. The Count tried to struggle himself free but to no avail.

  The demon’s clawed fist punched through his ribcage with ease, ripped his heart out and clenched it hard. Blood splattered everywhere. A gray haze enveloped the demon, instantly restoring 25% of his health that we’d worked so hard to diminish.

  What a bummer! He’s gonna shred us now!

  The Count saved the day. Without his heart, he rapidly began to shrivel but kept his wits about him, investing the last of his strength into one last magic blow. A wave of fierce cold froze the demon to the floor, turning him into an immobilized statue albeit for a split second.