“So, blacksmith, you’ve come to spy on me, have you?” a voice cackled from behind.
Gameknight spun around and found Herobrine standing at the edge of the birch forest. Around him were fifty Endermen, as well as dozens of spiders and zombies and skeletons.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting up with you again.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Herobrine,” Gameknight tried to snarl, but his voice cracked, exposing the fear that filled his whole being.
Herobrine laughed.
“Yes, I’m sure you’re not afraid one bit.”
He laughed again, causing the Endermen to chuckle. A screechy laugh cut through the rest. Gameknight would have recognized that evil voice anywhere, but still he prayed that he was wrong. Color drained from his face as he slowly turned his head toward the sound.
“Ahh, I see you’ve found my newest servant,” Herobrine said with an evil grin. “Allow me to introduce to you the king of the Ender …”
“Erebus,” Gameknight hissed. He was now shaking.
It can’t be … my nightmare has returned. Gameknight thought. How can I lead these villagers when I’m terrified of this one creature?
He thought back to their last meeting, on the steps to the Source. He’d battled the dark monster in the land of dreams, but he’d had the help of both Hunter and Stitcher. Here, he felt utterly alone.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, blacksmith,” Erebus screeched. “Come, let us embrace.”
The king of the Endermen laughed again.
More Endermen appeared around the villagers, each one with a zombie or a skeleton in its long, clammy arms. A massive group of spiders clicked anxiously, adding to the excited moans of the zombies and the clattering skeletons. Slowly, monsters moved around the base of one of the mountains, their cold, dead eyes all trained on the villagers with venomous hatred.
“Smithy, what do we do?” Carver asked. “We’re outnumbered and surrounded … quick, tell us what to do.”
Fencer moved to Gameknight’s side and spoke in his ear.
“We need to do something, fast, or we’re all lost. Quick, think of something. We need one of your unexpected tricks to get us out of this.”
But Gameknight could not answer. He was terrified beyond all rational thought. Before him was his own personal nightmare, Erebus, the king of the Endermen. And now they were surrounded and outnumbered by at least three to one. They were lost and had no chance for success. Gameknight could think of only one thing to do. He reached into his inventory and drew his iron swords, and waited for the end to come crashing down upon them in a wave of fangs and claws and dark fists. It was over.
CHAPTER 18
UNEXPECTED AID
“Monsters, attack!” Herobrine yelled.
The terrifying creatures advanced, their growling voices growing loud with excitement. The Endermen were the first to advance, teleporting right in front of the villagers.
“Remember, look away and don’t touch the Endermen!” Gameknight yelled. “Archers, don’t accidently shoot one of them. Use your swords instead.”
The villagers began to back up, but the sound of monsters behind them filled their ears. The zombies and skeletons that had been entering the tunnel at the center of Dragon’s Teeth were now climbing out of the dark opening and heading toward them. Thankfully, they had to go around the lava flow and carefully navigate the flowing streams of water, which slowed them down.
“Smithy, what do we do?” someone asked.
But Gameknight was consumed with fear. He was looking toward the king of the Endermen, his dark red skin bringing back terrifying memories from deep within his soul.
“Smithy … help us!” another shouted.
I don’t know what to do, Gameknight thought.
Erebus turned and stared at him, his red eyes boring into him like two intense lasers. Gameknight glanced away quickly, so as to not enrage the evil creature. He wanted to apologize to all the villagers for bringing them here. He was no leader … not like Smithy. He was just a scared kid.
Reaching up, he adjusted his iron helmet. For a moment, Gameknight thought about removing it and exposing himself for the lie that he was, but he knew that would do nothing but make the situation worse.
I have to think of something, or all these villagers will be killed.
He looked at Weaver, the young NPC’s blue eyes filled with fear. If he dies here, what would happen to Crafter and my other friends? His mind was so consumed with thoughts of failure and fear that he couldn’t even move.
Zombies began to clash with villagers as skeletons fired their arrows at the intruders. Like the zombies, the ferocity the skeletons and the spiders suddenly possessed was startling. One zombie attacked Gameknight, its long claws slicing and tearing.
This snapped Gameknight into action.
With his two swords a blur, he attacked the creature, slashing at it over and over until it disappeared with a pop. Glancing around the battlefield, Gameknight could tell they had no chance. But at least if they were going to fail, they would go down fighting.
Suddenly, music filled the air. It was a soothing sound that seemed to quell the fires of panic in the NPCs, while at the same time driving the monsters into fits of anguish. A loud clap of thunder sounded, filling the air. It was so deafening that it made everyone’s ears ring, startling the monsters and making them pull back.
“What was that?” Fencer asked.
Gameknight shrugged. The thunder boomed again, but this time, a bolt of lightning struck the ground like a brilliant dagger of white fire. It created a bright radiant ball of electricity that hovered there for an instant, then faded away. When Gameknight’s eyes finally adjusted again, he saw an old woman standing where the lightning had struck. In her hand was a crooked wooden walking stick, the end capped with metal.
She glanced at Gameknight and the other villagers, giving each a reassuring, grandmotherly smile, then turned and glared at Herobrine, pointing at the monster with her cane.
“The end for you, Virus, has just begun,” she said in a scratchy voice.
Her hands began to glow a deep forest green that spread up her arms and then her elbows. Before Herobrine could reply, she stooped over and plunged her shimmering hands into the stone ground. Instantly, new creatures began to pop into existence, each looking completely different from the next. There was one wearing a dusty smock, patches of dirt on its sleeves and legs as well as on the creature’s hair and face. Another appeared with dark brown skin that looked rough, like wrinkled sand paper. His dark hair stuck out in all directions like a tangle of branches from a bird’s nest. More of them appeared all across the battlefield, each one completely unique in appearance.
“Who is that old woman?” one of the villagers asked.
No one answered. They were all in shock as they watched what was happening.
Gameknight999 smiled as he looked at his old friend, the Oracle. He’d been on many adventures with the old woman, battling Herobrine in the future. And now she was bringing her light-crafters here to help.
And then, as if responding to some silent command from the wrinkled woman, the light-crafters moved into action. The dirty one began throwing tiny cubes across the ground. When each one landed, it changed the rocky ground into soil. Another threw what looked like little green missiles at the newly transformed dirt. When they hit, they formed a sapling that sprung into a full-grown tree seconds later. The oaks and spruces formed a barrier between the monsters and the villagers.
“Behind us!” Gameknight shouted.
The newcomers continued to block the monsters from approaching with a line of trees. Zombies tried to move between the trunks, but another creature caused long blades of grass to grow, entangling any monster that stepped too close.
The old woman moved to Gameknight as more of the strange NPCs materialized.
“We must leave this place quickly, child, if all are to survive,” the old woman said.
�
��Who are you?” Carver asked.
“I am the …”
“She’s the Oracle,” Gameknight said, a grateful smile on his face.
The Oracle turned her head toward Gameknight999, her gray hair flinging across her face, then falling down again to her shoulders.
“That is correct,” she said suspiciously. “I’ve been sent to get Minecraft back in balance as well as to deal with that virus. But first, it is time for all of you to head back to your village.” She turned and pointed to a couple of the new creatures. “Snowbrin, Icebrin, get on either side and form barriers to keep the monsters back.” She then turned to face another group. “Grassbrin, keep the monsters back. Treebrin, Leafbrin, do the same. Light-crafters, we must encourage the monsters to stay away without hurting any of them.”
“Who cares if you hurt them?!” Carver exclaimed.
“We are not here to kill,” the Oracle said, her voice sounding very grandmotherly and wise. “We are here to repair.”
“But—”
She held up a wrinkled hand, silencing the NPC, then turned back to her light-crafters, positioning more of them around the company of NPCs.
“It’s time. Let’s go.”
With a wave of her pale old hand, a line of trees disappeared. Instantly, zombies tried to charge in, but a wall of snow and ice appeared on either side of their escape route, encapsulating the monsters in a temporarily-frozen prison.
“Everyone, this way,” she said.
Moving faster than anyone thought possible, the Oracle sprinted through the opening with a group of light-crafters on either side. Grassbrin threw clumps of long, stringy grass at the monsters while Snowbrin and Icebrin formed frosty walls to keep the monsters back. Glancing behind, Gameknight saw Treebrin and Leafbrin creating an impossible tangle of leaves and trees behind them, discouraging any of the monsters from following.
“You were lucky again, blacksmith,” Herobrine growled as the party ran away from Dragon’s Teeth. “But next time, it’ll be you and me on the battlefield, and no old woman will be able to protect you. Your destruction is inevitable!”
“The monsters are leaving,” the Oracle said, slowing to a walk. “You have a village nearby, I assume?”
“Yes, we have a desert village,” Carver said. “It’s on the other side of the Great Chasm.”
“Perhaps you should lead us there with great haste,” the Oracle said. She winked at Gamenight999 and gave him a slight smile. “I fear there is much preparation needed and little time to accomplish everything necessary. There is little doubt the virus will be enraged by my appearance and double his efforts to destroy everything.”
Gameknight nodded as he looked at the Oracle. The last time he’d seen her was at the jungle temple. She’d refused to go with them across the ocean in boats, and had instead stayed behind to slow Herobrine and his monstrous hordes. The evil virus had destroyed her body, but part of her had survived the final encounter. She had still always been present in Minecraft, in Gameknight’s time, being the music that resonated across the land. He had just heard that music again, just before her appearance, but for some reason it did not bring him the peace and tranquility that it had in the past. With her appearance here, Gameknight knew that they must be in serious trouble, and that the survival of Minecraft hung in the balance.
CHAPTER 19
HEROBRINE’S RAGE
“Who was that woman?!” Herobrine shouted, his eyes blazing a harsh white as his rage overflowed. “And what were those creatures she spawned?”
“I think they were a response to your shadow-crafters,” Erebus said. “They were probably … ahh … light-crafters?”
“Light-crafters!?” the Maker exclaimed. “What is going on?!”
Herobrine wanted to destroy something, to vent his rage on some innocent bystander, but he didn’t feel like wasting any of his monsters at the moment. Teleporting out into the Overworld, the furious virus found a harmless, innocent cow. Drawing his sword, he attacked the beast, swinging his blade with unbridled fury until the creature disappeared with a pop. It happened so quickly, the animal didn’t even get a chance to cry out or run. It just simply ceased to exist after Herobrine poured all of his fury onto the poor creature.
With his lust for violence sated just a bit, he teleported back into the huge zombie-town that hid underground beneath Dragon’s Teeth.
“Tell me what you saw,” Herobrine commanded to the Enderman king.
“The light-crafters seem similar to your shadow-crafters,” Erebus began. “Each has a thing that it can craft. One made trees, another made grass, while two of them made snow and ice. Each has a thing they can craft, and we only saw a few of them in that battle. Likely there are many more ready who work for that old woman, just as you have many shadow-crafters working for you. The entrance of the old woman and the light-crafters has evened out the balance of power.”
“I don’t like things being balanced,” Herobrine said as he paced back and forth across the zombie-town. “Not one bit.”
He looked up and surveyed the rough-hewn chamber. He could see scores of zombies, skeletons, spiders, and creepers, but he knew more were gathered in all the other zombie-towns across the Overworld. Soon, with the help of his Endermen, Herobrine would bring all those monsters here, to Dragon’s Teeth. From here, they would march upon the NPCs and destroy that blacksmith once and for all.
The Maker moved near a stream of lava that flowed out of the ceiling, forming a pool of molten stone on the ground. He breathed in the luscious smoke and ash, the acrid smells calming his rage.
“We need to be prepared for that old woman and her pathetic little crafters,” Erebus said.
“Do not fear, my friend,” Herobrine said. “When I bring all those monsters here to this zombie-town, we will have such an overwhelming force that those villagers will cower in fear. There are no other villagers nearby, so no reinforcements will be available to the blacksmith, Smithy. But we, however, have many more monsters coming to our aid.” He paused to take in a smoky breath. “I just would like to know more about that old hag that appeared before us.”
“Well, we know one thing important about her,” Erebus said.
“What?” Herobrine snapped.
“She can be destroyed,” the king of the Endermen said. “If she was indestructible, then she wouldn’t have run away and built barriers to protect herself and her light-crafters. That tells me that she and her minions can, and will, be defeated.”
“Hmmm …” Herobrine mused. “Perhaps you’re right.”
The Maker turned and glanced at Shaikulud. An evil smile slowly crept across his face as evil thoughts filled his mind.
“Of course I’m right. Now, spider queen, I have something special in mind for you,” Herobrine said with a malicious smile. “When it’s time, we’ll teach the blacksmith a lesson and deal with that woman as well.” He turned to face Erebus. “Pass the word: it’s time for all my monsters to congregate here. Herobrine’s army will be the biggest collection of fangs and claws ever seen!”
He laughed again as his eyes glowed with a harsh, white light that lit the zombie-town as if it were under the noonday sun.
CHAPTER 20
MAKING A CHOICE
The NPCs moved quietly through the birch forest, all of them watching nervously for monsters to come charging at them out from behind the trees. In the distance, they could still hear the growls of zombies and the clatter of skeletons, but they did not sound as if they were in pursuit. Likely, the presence of their saviors had worried Herobrine, and he was choosing to be cautious instead of careless.
“So who are you, exactly?” Carver asked the old woman as he moved up to her side.
“As I said earlier, I am the Oracle,” she said, as if that explanation would have any meaning to the NPCs.
Carver looked at Fencer, confused, then shrugged his shoulders and moved back to help one of the injured villagers. The Oracle took stock of the light-crafters around her, making sure they w
ere watching the forest with keen eyes. She then moved to Gameknight’s side.
“How did you know who I was?” the Oracle asked in a low voice.
“Well … that’s a difficult question to answer,” he whispered.
“You’re different than the rest,” the old woman said. “I can see letters above your head. They spell out your name, right?”
Gameknight was shocked. “You can see them?”
The Oracle nodded.
“But the other NPCs cannot see them, can they?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“They call me Smithy,” Gameknight said. “Please don’t use the other name, the one you can see over my head. The villagers wouldn’t understand.”
“So you’re posing as this Smithy?” she asked.
Gameknight hesitated. He glanced around, to make sure the villagers were far enough away, then lowered his voice just to be safe. “Yes. Smithy was their leader. I took on his guise when Smithy was killed, to keep the villagers working together. It’s important that they continue to think of me as Smithy.”
“I can tell you don’t seem very happy about this ruse,” the Oracle said in a whisper.
Gameknight sighed. “Smithy was a great leader. He cared about his villagers and would do nothing to put them into danger. Meanwhile I just led them into a trap and nearly got them all killed. I’m no Smithy.”
Gameknight hung his head down and watched his feet as he trudged through the forest.
“So you doubt your ability to lead these NPCs to safety?” she asked.
Gameknight sighed again and nodded his head. “I’m afraid I’m going to lead them into disaster.”
“But you led them out into the desert and defeated the zombie king,” she said.
Gameknight stared at the old woman. “How did you know about that?” he asked. “You weren’t there.”
“When I was programmed, I was given the history of what has transpired in Minecraft,” the Oracle replied.
“Programmed? What do you mean?” Gameknight asked. “Who programmed you?”
Attack of the Shadow-Crafters Page 10
