Shadow Sun Unification: Shadow Sun Book Five

by Dave Willmarth

  The elf looked offended for a brief moment before carefully adopting a neutral expression again. “I have already taken such an oath, your majesty.”

  “Oh, right.” Allistor felt foolish. Why would an elf try to protect a foreign emperor over a lady of his own house? “Great, then I believe we’re ready to go.”

  “I offer my own ship to shuttle us to our destination.” Melise was clearly trying to ease Allistor’s embarrassment over his faux pas, moving past it without comment.

  “Thank you. We’re not going far,” Allistor took a quick look around. He chose a high rise about thirty blocks to the north outside the wall and pointed to it. “That should be far enough. We can hopefully spot some of the adepts from that roof. If not, we’ll continue down to the ground and start hunting.”

  Melise and her guard led Allistor, the orcanin, and the droids back up the ramp and into her ship.

  *****

  Down in the tunnels below the city, the battle was raging on two fronts. The raiders that had been too late to help Goodrich and his crew had, with the help of the droids, pushed the undead all the way back through the tunnel and into the domed room where Goodrich had first found them. From there they had split the droids into two groups, one blocking the door where the undead had been entering the room, and the other blocking the exit they’d been streaming into. Only the raid leader in each group had received one of the Repel Undead scrolls, but those three individuals were making the most of it. They took turns casting the spell on the area directly in front of the shield-bearing droids, happily burning down the zombies who were unable to flee the light magic zone due to the press of bodies behind them. The others were casting spells over top of the droid tanks, burning through the undead hordes’ reduced health pools with ease. The raid groups’ tanks and other melee specialists were alternating between leveling up their limited damage spells, and using ranged weapons. Several had produced, or borrowed, bows and arrows, and were working at leveling up those skills.

  Two of the raid groups were assigned to the entry, while the third took the exit tunnel. The undead in that direction had mostly continued down their ordered path, with just the rear hundred or so turning to fight. Once they were put down, that raid leader, a bearded midwesterner named Kuhns, ordered the droids to push forward, following the string of marching undead toward whatever their destination was. They reported in every two minutes via radio droid, mapping the tunnel and marking any doors or intersections on their UIs as they went. The going was slow, as they paused at each door to open it and clear the room. At each intersection they left two droids to guard the side tunnel they left behind. The last thing they wanted was to get trapped between enemies coming at them from behind, the way Goodrich had.

  An hour into their pursuit, they stopped short. They’d reached a huge chamber that was several steps down from the tunnel they were standing in. At the bottom of the steps, thirty or so corpses were getting to their feet, obviously having tumbled down the steps. As soon as they were mobile, they headed in different directions toward one of eight exits.

  The chamber was some kind of switching station for the trains. There was a busy starburst-shaped pattern of tracks laid across the floor, one leading into (or out of) each of the eight tunnel openings. In the center of the chamber was a large wheel that could clearly be used to turn train cars. A car would come in on one track at three o’clock, hold on the wheel while it turned like a clock face, then exit onto a whole new track at six o’clock.

  “We can’t chase them any further.” Kuhns called out. “Kill anything you can hit! Start at max range, bring as many of them to us as you can.”

  Not needing to be asked twice, his people began casting spells and firing arrows at zombies who were just about to exit the various tunnels nearby. The room was too large to reach all the way across with their magic, so they focused on the two nearest tunnels on either side of them. The droids fanned out to their left and right, and set a shield wall at the top of the steps. This was a great position from which to fight, forcing the enemy zombies to climb the steps to reach them, where they were met with droid shields and spears. Faces grim and mana potions at the ready, the group began the slaughter as their healer reported in their position and requested more reinforcements. They had eight new tunnels to follow the undead into.

  Chapter 16

  Hel watched the multiple holo displays in front of her, tentacles twitching in irritation. The lich was not following the orders she’d given him nearly a year ago when she placed him on that planet. He was wasting resources by attacking Invictus City. Already hundreds of thousands of common undead and something like a score of adepts were lost. Months of work thrown away for no gain.

  Even worse, she had a very real fear that Baldur and Odin would discover that she was responsible for the lich being inserted there during the planet’s Stabilization. They had Loki in custody, and would be scouring his mind for information on such infractions. If her father had discovered any actual proof of her involvement in this, or any of several other forbidden actions, and brought the proof to light, the System would deal harshly with her.

  As ancient and powerful as her race might be, they were still subject to the System and its punishments. Her punishment would be extreme, as the System would take into account her extensive knowledge of its workings, its rules, and the reasons for them. Factoring in the wide-reaching consequences of her actions, the System would almost certainly end her mortal existence.

  She didn’t fear that, though it would put an end to much of her fun. No, what she feared was exactly what the human had threatened her father with. The binding of her soul, or even its utter destruction. Those who came before, who created the System to begin with, had long ago ascended. They had the knowledge of how to do so, long before Hel’s race crawled out of the mud on their planet of origin. They had passed that knowledge on to the System so that it could prevent those whom they would consider unworthy from ascending.

  That had been the single most terrifying thing she and her people had learned in their study of the System. Until that point, they had come to believe that they were all-powerful, beyond the point where they might be held accountable for their actions. Secure in the belief that they could simply abandon the mortal plane at will and explore a new existence as beings of pure thought and energy. The realization that the System could deny them this, could hold them responsible for breaking its rules, had nearly led Hel to abandon her own rebellious and predatory lifestyle.

  She contemplated a safer, more sedate, life. She already possessed great power, and nearly unlimited wealth accumulated over millennia, and could live in comfort for eternity.

  But what was the point? She thrived on the excitement of breaking the rules. Lived for the danger. If she were to give that up, she might as well ascend. Plus, what greater challenge could she ask for? Her entire life she had competed against her father, the being known as the god of deceit and trickery. The only higher challenge than outsmarting her father was beating the System itself.

  Which brought her back to the itch in the back of her mind. As if the System were there, watching. Poised to snap into action, to sever the thread of her existence. And she couldn’t help feeling that the itch had something to do with the lich.

  It was supposed to have taken over one of the most heavily populated cities on the planet, packed it full of undead until dark magic permeated the very soil to such a degree that it would naturally spawn a dungeon. She could then use access to that dungeon to her advantage, or take the core and do the same.

  The lich had been well on its way to completing that task when she’d diverted it to the west, and the human boy, Kyle. That had been her mistake. She’d done it for simple amusement, to throw another barrier at the human prince. The derailment had changed the lich, given him a desire for vengeance, to repay the prince for the insult of defeating him. Now it was wasting resources on a battle it wouldn’t win, while at the same time stirring up powerful forces. Quest
ions were being asked, investigations launched.

  Instead of a useful and profitable dungeon on an energy-rich new planet, the lich had given her a nervous twitch and an unending sense of unease. The only thing stopping her from smashing its phylactery and ending its un-life was the fact that the sudden unexplained destruction of the lich would generate even more curiosity. As it was now, there was a slim possibility that the lich could be perceived as acting on its own. Having its string suddenly cut would end any speculation and trigger a search for whomever was holding the scissors.

  The intermediary she had used to locate and contact the lich was dead, along with the crew that had transported him to the planet, and anyone else even peripherally involved. She had little fear that any new investigation could lead back to her. But the fear that her father had already made the necessary connections ate at her. He could reveal those connections under compulsion, or just to spite her. And all it would take would be a declaration of the truth witnessed by the System.

  Thus she was not in the least surprised when Baldur appeared in her lab, causing the mists to swirl as his anger collided with her alarm.

  “Odin wishes to speak with you, child. Now.”

  *****

  Kuhns perked up when he heard laughter echo out from one of the tunnels to his left. His team and their droids had taken down more than a hundred undead in the switching station, and were casually looting the corpses. They hadn’t pursued the monsters into any of the tunnels, not having the necessary manpower. More raid groups were on their way, along with more droids. The raiders had been calling out any decent loot they received. As with the old MMO’s, the undead were dropping items they never would have carried in real life. Like when you would receive gold coins and maybe a chain belt from a murdered fuzzy bunny. These mobs were dropping scrolls, weapons, and armor pieces as well as klax. Kuhns himself reached down and touched the skeletal corpse of a woman wearing what was left of a Victorian era dress. At least, he assumed it was a woman. He briefly imagined it might have been a man dressed as a woman as part of some scheme to lure and shanghai drunken sailors at the port. Or a casualty of a tragic cross-dressing Halloween party mishap. Maybe a lothario caught in his lover’s boudoir by an angry husband, who grabbed what clothes he could before leaping out the window, forced to wear a dress as he slunk home through the dark alleys of 19th century New York City. There was no real way to tell. In any case, the loot granted was decent – an uncommon quality spell scroll called Death’s Bane, a thousand klax, and two-handed longsword that glowed faintly green.

  He was about to Examine the sword to see what kind of enchantment it held when the laughter rang out.

  Instantly, all the humans had weapons in hand, the loot forgotten. The droids began to step toward the sound, shields raised. Kuhns stopped them by calling out, “Everybody back up the stairs! Take the same positions as before.” The droids waited for the humans to gather and move up the stairs, following the last of them walking backwards with shields up. As soon as they reached the top they formed two lines and hunkered down behind their matte black shields. The humans readied their ranged attacks and waited.

  The laughter ceased, and a dry, raspy voice echoed out of the second tunnel to their left. “Humans. Such primitive creatures. So physically and mentally weak, so easily controlled. You will all make fine additions to my horde.”

  A single undead emerged from the tunnel, taking two steps into the room before stopping. It wore a surprisingly clean blue robe with several arcane symbols stitched in red and black across the front. In one hand it held a very clichéd sickle with a bone handle and a flat ebony blade. Its other hand was wrapped around a tall, segmented bone staff that appeared to be made by several femurs fused end to end, with a human skull at the top, its eyes glowing green. Kuhns cast Identify on the leathery talking corpse.

  Necromancer Adept

  Level 48 Elite

  Health: 67,000/67,000

  The adept opened its mouth to say more, but its head rocked back as an arrow blasted into the open mouth. The raiders cheered as it fell backwards, the arrowhead and several inches of shaft sticking out the back of its skull. One of the archers pumped a fist in the air, shouting “One shot, one ki-” He didn’t finish the sentence, his mouth snapping shut as the adept sat up and grabbed ahold of the arrow near the fletching, yanking the arrow free amidst a shower of dusty flesh and bits of bone. Using its staff, it regained its feet, shaking its head.

  “You’ll have to do better than that.” The adept thrust its staff forward, and nearly the entire group of humans began to scream as their flesh and muscles seized and began to rot. Kuhns, though he was feeling the same pain from the necrotic attack, had the presence of mind to cast Repel Undead atop his own group as he fell. The light magic AoE didn’t cancel out the adept’s attack completely, but it did ease the pain and damage enough for the raiders to regain their senses. Magic attacks rained down on the undead creature as its body sprouted several arrow shafts within seconds. The group healer focused on bringing his teammates back up to acceptable health levels, while droids held their position.

  An ice bolt the size of a football slammed into the mummified face, shattering a cheekbone before penetrating deep into a brain that had long since gone to dust. Fireballs sped toward the adept as columns of flame dropped upon its head. Two stone spikes shot up from the floor, one in front, one in back, to cross tips as they impaled the creature through its back and gut, trapping it by forming a sort of x through its body. Its health bar was dropping, quickly approaching fifty percent.

  Necromancer Adept

  Level 48 Elite

  Health: 39,300/67,000

  Holding its hands out wide to either side, the undead creature laughed loudly at them. “Your puny magics cannot kill me. I am the horde! I am legion!” it shouted as both hands made a flicking motion. Instantly two streams of black energy appeared from two of the tunnels, one connecting with each hand. His health bar shot back up to full as two zombies staggered out of the tunnels, following along the streaming dark magic threads. They’d taken only a dozen or so steps before they crumbled and fell unmoving onto the floor. Almost immediately more zombies began to emerge, from every tunnel this time.

  “Shit, he can steal their energy to heal himself. There are hundreds, maybe thousands of them to act as batteries for him. We can’t fight him like this!” Kuhns growled to his people. After a moment’s thought, he added, “Ranged, keep pouring on the dps. See if you can interrupt that self-heal thing. Tanks, melee, with me. Charge!”

  The tanks wasted no time, activating a rush ability that sent them across the room in a flash, slamming both of their shields into the adept at the same moment. Kuhns sprinted forward at superhuman speed, two melee fighters right behind him. He was still holding the freshly looted sword, so he raised it over his head as he leapt the final ten feet toward the adept. With a downward chop he severed the arm holding the sickle just below the elbow. The adept screamed, more in anger than pain. With its remaining arm it slammed the butt of its staff on the stone chamber floor. Instantly Kuhns, the tanks, and the melee fighters were afflicted with the necrotic spell again. Repel Undead was still on cooldown, and Kuhns had no other ace up his sleeve as he succumbed to the pain of rotting flesh and cramping muscles. His legs failed him, and he fell to the floor. His back arched so severely that only the back of his head and his feet were in contact with the floor, and he could hear his spine creak in protest.

  Over the screams of his team, Kuhns could hear the distinct sound of metal on stone as the droids charged forward. Several attacked the adept, slamming shields into its body, striking it with spears. The rest each grabbed a human and lifted them up before carrying them out of the dark spell’s radius. Kuhns immediately felt better, or at least no worse. He felt a heal wash through him a moment later, clearing his mind enough to cast a second one on himself.

  As the droids slowly dismantled the lich’s body, surrounding it and chipping away at its health
with physical attacks, the ranged raiders had shifted their focus to the incoming horde. Each of the casters placed a vortex at the mouth of one tunnel, hoping to slow the advance of the undead reinforcements. Fireballs sped down other tunnels, setting corpses on fire and illuminating just how many enemies were packed inside. The tunnel nearest on their right was blocked with three stone spikes that impaled the leading zombies and caused a backup of moaning bodies. Several more pressed in behind and impaled themselves, pushing the lead zombies further onto the spikes until one of them simply burst in half, its separated parts squelching onto the floor. A cone of arctic air blasted into the tunnel, freezing the first several rows of mobs solid, creating an effective barrier for the rest.

  The group was playing for time, doing their best to hold back the horde long enough to kill the adept. The necrotic damage had worn off enough for the tanks and melee to recover. The two tanks retreated back up the steps to protect the casters, while Kuhns led the two melee fighters around behind the lich.

  Its body was heavily damaged, both legs missing great chunks of flesh, its face half gone, and its one remaining arm gripping tightly to the staff, which was the only thing still holding it upright. One of the melee fighters dashed forward a few steps and dropped into a baseball slide, using his legs to knock loose the staff. He screamed in pain the moment his legs came into contact with the weapon, both of them going ice cold and withering to desiccated flesh underneath his gear.

  The adept, now without its support, dropped to its knees. Kuhns wasted no time, swinging the two-handed sword. The green glow of enchantment flashed brightly as it severed the adept’s spine, setting the head on fire with green flames even as it fell to one side.

  Most of the group leveled up from the adept’s demise combined with the many common zombie kills. None of them could manage to reverse the necrotic damage to their comrade’s legs no matter which healing spell they used. One of the tanks lifted him gently and carried him back up the stairs, placing him near the back of the group.