Finally, Gameknight was able to lower his sword and breathe a sigh of relief. Turning around, he could see the surviving monsters from the western army were withdrawing and retreating to the forest, their numbers significantly reduced.
A hand came down on his shoulder. Smithy smiled at him, his steel-blue eyes shining bright.
“You did OK over here,” the blacksmith said. “If it wasn’t for you, these monsters would have snuck up behind us and we’d probably have been defeated.”
Gameknight said nothing, just glanced at the retreating monsters. Then he brought his gaze back to Smithy.
“Your village really needs a watchtower that stands tall, right at the center of the village,” Gameknight said. “If you had one, you’d have seen those monsters coming.”
“He’s right,” Smithy said, nodding his head.
The NPC turned and pointed at a handful of villagers.
“Start building a watchtower and use cobblestone,” the blacksmith ordered. “And first, build a room next to it so the watchers have a place to sleep when they are not on duty.”
Gameknight nodded his head, then leaned in closer, so only Smithy could hear him.
“You need archer towers, too, or at least an easy way to get up onto the roofs of the buildings,” the User-that-is-not-a-user said softly. “Arrows can strike out at the monsters from a distance. We can hurt them before they get close enough to hurt us.”
The blacksmith nodded then pointed to another group of friends.
“Baker, Digger, Fletcher, build steps so we can put archers up on the rooftops,” Smithy said. “Put the steps next to every building.”
The NPCs nodded their boxy heads and went to work.
“You seem to know a lot about fighting monsters,” Smithy said. “What did you say your name was again?”
“I’m Gameknight999,” he replied.
“Well, Gameknight999, I’m glad you were here today. You probably saved a lot of lives.”
“Unless he’s part of some secret monster plan to get inside our village,” the angry villager, Fencer, said. “A stranger is still a stranger and should not be trusted.”
“Fencer, he saved many lives today,” Smithy pointed out. “We owe him our gratitude.”
“I still don’t trust him.”
Smithy turned away from the malcontent and faced Gameknight999.
“What are your plans?” he asked.
“We should follow that monster army and see where they are going,” Gameknight said. “I guarantee they will be back with more zombies, or worse…. It’s how they think. We must find out how many monsters they have and where they’re congregating. Then we can make a plan on how to attack them.”
“Attack them?!” Fencer exclaimed. “You think we should go out there and attack the monsters out in the open? Are you insane?”
“No … I didn’t say we go out there to attack them. I said we need to go out there and gather information so a plan can be made,” Gameknight replied with a scowl. “If we wait too long, we’ll lose their trail.”
He pointed to the retreating army that had just reached the edge of the forest.
“I’m going to follow them and find out how many monsters they really have in their army,” Gameknight said. “If any of you are willing to come, then I’d appreciate the company, but we must know what is going on. Knowledge is power, and right now, we’re powerless.”
“You’re throwing that we around an awful lot,” Fencer said.
But before Gameknight could reply, Smithy spoke up.
“I will accompany you,” the blacksmith said.
“Me too,” Fencer said quickly. “I’m not letting this stranger out of my sight. What did you say your name was?”
“Gamekni—”
“No, that other name?” Fencer asked.
“I’m the User-that-is-not-a—”
“OK, whatever, I’m calling you User,” Fencer said with a scowl. “Now, if we’re going to follow those monsters, then let’s get moving.”
“Great, let’s go,” Smithy said as he sheathed his sword.
Gameknight put away his own weapon and cast an angry scowl toward Fencer, then followed Smithy as he headed after the monsters at a smooth run. As they moved across the grassy plain, Gameknight had them pause for a moment while he went down into his hidey-hole and collected his items, returning a minute later with Wilbur on his heels.
“Ahh … you’re bringing lunch with you,” Fencer said with a grin.
“This is Wilbur, my friend, and he helped me defeat some monsters on my way to your village. He will not be lunch … or dinner.” Gameknight reached into his inventory and grabbed his sword, pulling the handle out so it was visible. “This is not negotiable … understood?”
“Understood, Gameknight,” Smithy replied. “Isn’t that right, Fencer?”
The balding NPC nodded his head, but a scowl seemed to be permanently etched onto the villager’s face whenever he looked at Gameknight999.
Suddenly, another voice sounded behind them.
“I’m coming … wait for me!”
They all turned to see a young boy running across the grassy plain, a stone sword in his hand. He wore a bright yellow smock with a chocolate brown stripe running down the center. His dark brown hair almost matched the stripe perfectly, making his bright blue eyes stand out. He instantly reminded Gameknight of Crafter … which made him remember that he missed his friends—no, his family. If only they were here to help.
“Weaver … you go back,” Fencer growled. “This is important work and you’re only a kid. You get back to the village right now!”
The young boy skidded to a stop, then glanced at Smithy. The blacksmith slowly shook his head. Gameknight could see the young boy was probably the same age as Stitcher and would likely be of assistance, but he dared not cause more trouble. So instead, Gameknight stayed silent.
“Go!” Fencer shouted.
Weaver sighed, then turned and started walking back to the village.
“Come on, we must hurry,” Smithy said.
“Right,” Fencer replied.
The trio started running across the grassy plain and into the forest, pursuing the monster horde. But as they ran, something about that boy stayed with Gameknight. For some reason, he thought he should find out who he was. There was something important about him that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But rather than get distracted, he let the idea go; he and two NPCs were chasing a massive horde of monsters back to their lair.
Who knew what was going to happen next?
CHAPTER 6
THE FIRST ZOMBIE KING
Herobrine had watched the battle from behind the tree line, keeping his presence hidden. What he saw of the villagers was shocking; the NPCs battled his monsters with incredible ferocity. They fought as if the outcome of the battle would determine the fate of Minecraft. Villagers that were wounded kept fighting, while others took on two monsters at the same time. And the dark-haired blacksmith … he fought like five warriors. His sword smashed into zombies and skeletons with such strength that there were no monsters that could withstand his attacks. He was like a one-man army.
That light-haired villager, the one with an unusually small nose, was the biggest surprise, though. Single-handedly he stopped the sneak attack that should have taken the village by surprise and destroyed all the defenders. Instead, that lone warrior had stopped their assault until more villagers could come and help. He also fought with a skill and fury that Herobrine had never seen before.
“That villager is probably second in command, answering only to the blacksmith,” Herobrine said aloud to no one.
“What did the master say?” one of the zombies moaned.
“Nothing … be silent!” Herobrine snapped.
The zombie moved away, wisely staying out of arm’s reach.
There was no question: the attack had been a failure, but Herobrine had learned many useful things from the battle. First, and most important, he realiz
ed that he needed a leader to command the zombies. The pathetic green creatures stumbled about wildly, often attacking the same target when they should have been spreading out their attacks and focusing on strategic goals.
“Yes, we need a leader for the zombies,” Herobrine said.
None of the decaying monsters made any comment. They were stupid but still smart enough to know when to stay away from Herobrine. And though they had only known him a little while, they had quickly learned to keep their distance after a defeat.
A moan flittered through the oak forest. Herobrine pointed to a handful of zombies, then gestured in the direction of the sound.
“Go get that zombie, and gather up any others you find,” he said.
The zombies growled their acknowledgment, then split off from the survivors and followed the sound, disappearing into the thick woodland.
Glancing up into the sky, Herobrine could see the sun was at its zenith. Soon, they would reach the basin where they had gathered before. Hopefully there would be more monsters there, waiting for him, but he had his doubts. Even though he had changed the monsters’ programming with his viral crafting powers so that the sun no longer caused them to burst into flames, the zombies and skeletons still preferred to stay in the shadows during the day. It was like an old habit they couldn’t shake. Soon though, once Herobrine had his way, they would forget their relegation to the darkness and embrace the Overworld as their world as well.
Thinking back to the battle, the second thing Herobrine realized was that the spiders were not fully committed to this venture. They lingered on the periphery of the attack, looking as if they would join the fray, but when it came time to fight, they seemed to conveniently disappear. The black fuzzy monsters’ ability to climb and trap villagers with their webs could be useful, if only they would work with the monster army instead of as individuals.
So Herobrine thought about his two problems and how he might solve them. But he knew he first had to solve the zombie problem, and that solution would be attained … soon.
Cresting a hill, the army moved down into the basin where Herobrine had left the small contingent of creatures. The grassy recession was clear of plants, but a ring of birch trees lined the edge of the clearing, drawing a white, woody circle around the meeting place. A smile creased his evil face when he saw twenty or thirty monsters milling about, looking for something to destroy. His eyes grew bright as he saw the hungry look in their eyes. They weren’t hungry for food, but for violence … perfect.
Closing his eyes, Herobrine imagined himself on the other side of the basin. And at the speed of thought, he was there, teleporting across the hollow like a streak of dark lightning. A small group of zombies approached.
“Is the village destroyed?” one of the monsters asked.
“Did the NPCs suffer?” asked another.
“Be quiet and let me work!” Herobrine snapped.
Teleporting again, the dark crafter materialized amid the monsters. His sudden appearance startled them, making the creatures extend their razor sharp claws.
“Those claws will not protect you,” Herobrine said with a sneer.
Drawing his iron sword, he slashed at three of the zombies, tearing HP from their body until the trio was on the brink of death. Too weak to stand, the monsters collapsed to the ground, moaning in fear.
Herobrine laughed.
“Soon you three will be the most important zombies ever,” he said as his eyes began to glow a harsh white.
Kneeling at their side, Herobrine closed his eyes and concentrated on his artificially intelligent viral code. As he drew his crafting powers in, a sickly yellow glow began to envelop his hands. It became brighter and brighter, causing the other monsters to step away for fear of being burned by the insipid light.
With a sudden motion, he reached out and pulled the monsters together so they lay right next to each other. Herobrine then plunged his hands into the creatures, sculpting them as if they were some kind of putrid decaying clay. With glowing hands, he reshaped the zombies until they took on the form of a single monster. The new creature was much bigger than the three individuals, with bulging muscular arms and thick legs. The monster was bigger than any creature ever seen in Minecraft. It would strike fear into the heart of anyone that saw it … just as Herobrine intended.
With his crafting complete, Herobrine plunged his hand deep into the monster’s barrel-like chest and drove every bit of hatred and malice he possessed into the monstrous zombie creation. As his mind filled with an unquenchable rage, Herobrine also rejuvenated the creature’s health, bringing the monster back from the brink of death. When he pulled his hands out of it’s chest, the massive zombie let out a loud, sorrowful scream that spread out across the Overworld, making the very fabric of Minecraft quake in fear.
“Stand, my child,” Herobrine said as the sickly yellow glow around his hands slowly faded away.
The zombie stood towering over Herobrine but bowed his head in deference to his maker.
“Master,” the huge zombie said. “This zombie is ready to serve.”
Herobrine smiled, then peered at the other zombies that had gathered in the basin to witness his dark crafting.
“Behold, the first zombie king, your leader.” Herobrine said to the decaying green monsters. “I give you Vo-Lok, your commander. Bow and greet your king.”
Vo-Lok turned and gazed down on the zombies. The fresh scars that ran down his arms, across his chest and along his jaw glowed pink in the bright sunlight, like jagged reminders of his dark birth.
The other zombies all lowered their heads. Herobrine could sense the fear in the monsters and reveled in the feeling.
“Wait, Vo-Lok must be properly clothed,” Herobrine said.
Concentrating, he made his hands glow the sickly yellow color again, then knelt and drove them into the ground. He could feel the soil underneath him shudder, as if it were repulsed by his touch. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his crafting powers. Slowly, the glow from his hands spread out across the grassy blocks, like a stain that would not stop expanding. The blocks grew bright as the insipid color seeped deeper into the ground. Suddenly, the glowing blocks flashed bright, as if hit by lightning. When the light dimmed, the blocks of grass had changed to gold ore. Shining nuggets of the yellow metal, trapped within stone blocks, now lay before the Maker.
Gathering his crafting powers, Herobrine drew the golden chunks from the stone blocks until he had a pile lying before him. His hands a blur, he quickly shaped the soft metal into pieces, then wove those together, pounding and shaping like a blacksmith. The idea made Herobrine laugh at the irony. When a piece was complete, he tossed it to the zombie king without looking, then focused on the next component.
In minutes, he was done. Standing, he looked at the huge monster. Vo-Lok was now clad in golden armor, the metallic coating reflecting the sunlight, making it appear as if he were glowing with vibrant power.
“Now that’s how a king should look,” Herobrine said. “But you are not complete yet.”
The dark crafter reached out and handed Vo-Lok a golden broadsword. It was a massive weapon with razor-sharp edges and a sharp pointy tip. It gleamed deadly and bright in the sun.
“Test it,” Herobrine commanded.
Vo-Lok took the sword, then moved down among the monsters. The zombies in the basin bowed, showing respect and fear for their king. But one zombie was slow to bow and did not stoop over very low. That made the poor creature an unlucky volunteer.
Gripping the handle firmly, Vo-Lok brought the weapon down upon the monster, hitting it twice before the doomed creature even knew what was happening. With a look of shock and fear on its decaying face, the monster disappeared with a pop, leaving behind three balls of XP. Vo-Lok stepped forward and allowed the glowing balls to flow into his body, increasing his strength ever so slightly. Then he turned and stared up at Herobrine.
“What are the Maker’s commands?” the zombie king said.
“We need m
ore monsters—many more—so we can destroy that village and make the blacksmith suffer,” Herobrine said. “You will command the next attack and make sure the zombies do as instructed. With Vo-Lok, king of the zombies, leading the assault, our victory is certain.”
Vo-Lok growled his agreement.
Suddenly, the sound of someone chopping wood could be heard. Glancing toward the noise, Herobrine knew it was a villager.
“Creepers … attack!” the dark crafter said.
Three creepers scurried off toward the sound, Herobrine following behind. He watched as the three creatures moved quietly up behind a lone NPC who was cutting down an oak tree. The foolish NPC wore a bright red smock with a brown stripe running down the center; he was likely some nearby village’s woodcutter.
The creepers moved behind their prey, then just stood there and stared at each other.
“Explode,” Herobrine growled quietly. “Detonate.”
But the monsters just stood there with stupid, confused looks on their faces.
“EXPLODE!” the Maker screamed.
The creepers turned and gawked at him, as did the villager. Fear instantly covered the NPC’s square face when he saw the nearby danger. He turned and ran, while the idiotic creepers just stared at Herobrine.
“Idiots,” he growled as his eyes grew bright.
Gathering his powers, he teleported into the path of the fleeing NPC. The villager skidded to a stop when he saw Herobrine and pulled out his axe. That made Herobrine laugh. Drawing his iron sword, he swung at the woodcutter, then disappeared and materialized behind him. He slashed at the villager, making him spin around. But by the time the NPC turned, Herobrine had already teleported to his left side. His iron sword scored hit after hit until the woodcutter disappeared with a pop. It made Herobrine laugh.
Instantly, he materialized next to the zombie king.
“These creepers are too stupid and need leadership,” Herobrine said, his eyes still glowing bright. “We will need to deal with that soon.”
The Great Zombie Invasion Page 4
