Looming Shadow: Journey to Chaos book 2

by Brian Wilkerson

  “So this is what it’s like to have the upper hand. For too long, I have been a yes-man and rubber-stamper. Now I am the one in control!”

  The undead monkey man pointed at the ground between himself and Basilard.

  “The sword, if you please. Otherwise…” He gestured with his head and his servants lifted their hostages’ chins with their claws. “Your students will become permanent residents!”

  Basilard hesitated.

  “Don’t do it, Daylra! That asshole’s gonna kill us anyway.”

  A zombie kicked her stomach and another bit her arm, sucking out a year of her life.

  “I concur,” agreed Nolien.

  A zombie kicked him in the jaw before another sucked a year of life out of him.

  Zettai didn’t say anything. She closed her eyes, bit her lip, and resigned herself to the inevitable.

  “We can do this till morning, Mr. Bladi, but your students will be older than you by then.”

  The blade shined, the man nodded, and he tossed it to the area indicated.

  “Thank you for your cooperation.”

  The monkey man indulged a third screech on his way to the sword. When he picked it up, it zapped him hard enough to fly backwards and roll head over feet. Basilard used Chameleon Flash to appear beside Tiza in a heartbeat and quickly disabled the zombies restraining her with a flurry of punches and kicks. When he tried the same with Nolien, Caffour intercepted him.

  The undead monkey wasn’t exaggerating when he said “powered by ten lifetimes.” His spiritual power dwarfed Basilard’s. All it took was a two-handed gesture to press him flat against the ground. The veteran mage couldn’t even raise his head to glare at his tormentor.

  “Nice try, Mr. Big and Powerful, but the strongest will always win and, right now, I AM THE STRONGEST!”

  The crowd dragged Tiza back and made her kneel a second time. A claw poised to cut her throat. Nolien swallowed over the one at his throat. The biggest of the zombies raised its foot above Basilard’s head.

  “KILL THE –!”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  Caffour abruptly stopped gloating and looked over his shoulder.

  A man in a black cloak crossed the boundary between the town and the base of the mountain. He carried a scythe in his right hand and a book strapped under his left shoulder. He stopped a respectable distance from Caffour and said, “I am Neuro of the Brotherhood of Death. You are aiding and abetting a known criminal. Cease and desist or you will be tried for your crimes in the Court of the Abyss.”

  “Fool! Now I will have your scythe as well! Surrender, or I will kill these people! Surely a priest of Death would want to prevent untimely death!”

  He began a fourth monkey screech, only for a sudden coughing fit to overwhelm him. The priest lunged and cleaved him in two, skidding to a stop behind him. Caffour’s lower body fell forward and his upper body backward.

  Despite the gruesome injury, Caffour didn’t feel anything. All the pain receptors in his body had shut down, along with its other functions. The only thing keeping his soul in his body was the Undeath spell cast him on him by his master. Furious, he gathered all the kon he had into one almighty blast.

  “Die, you insolent brat!”

  He fired and the dazzling white beam consumed Neuro, obscuring him from sight. Then it diminished and he became visible again. It all went into an open gourd he held in his left hand. With every second, Caffour lost power and, with every second, it became harder to keep Basilard pinned.

  “I-I still have the zombies! Zombies, kil –”

  Neuro raised his scythe high and proclaimed, “Ye guilty.”

  Glowing with majestic black light, Neuro plunged the tip of his scythe through Caffour’s forehead and into the ground beneath it. The undead monkey howled in horrendous pain as his false life was revoked and his soul ejected from his body. Ethereal chains appeared and bound him hand and foot, then anchored him to the ground with a stake. Neuro removed a second gourd from within his cloak, opened the top, and pointed it at him.

  “You will be delivered to the local reaper. Until such a time, you will be in my custody. Do you understand, Caffour Sappin?”

  His answer was the fourth monkey screech.

  “The local reaper? You fool! I work for –”

  The rest was cut off because his chains pulled him into the gourd. Neuro replaced the stopper, attached a label, and then returned it to his cloak.

  Next, the priest turned his attention to the slave zombies. He slashed the air above their heads and the ground beneath their feet to sever their thrall chains. After he restored their free will, he opened the first gourd and returned their life energy. Each one received half of the ten lifetimes Caffour stole from them, thus returning all of them to normal, albeit with shorter life spans.

  “People of Deimos, my apologies for my delayed entrance. In due time, I will deliver the rest of your stolen life energy. Until then, please pray for my success to Lord Death.”

  The former zombies made a salute with one hand over their hearts and another at their stomachs.

  “May crows watch over you, Brother Neuro.”

  Basilard stood up and said, “Yes. Thanks for your help, Brother.”

  Neuro turned his attention to the mercenary. “No, I should thank you, Mr. Bladi. It is due to your actions that I found a lead.”

  “Mount Heios?”

  Neuro leaned forward on his staff. “Until now, the Brotherhood has not thought to investigate it. Because of its Fog and monsters, we did not determine it worth the risk. Regardless, we kept it under surveillance and noted increased activity since you arrived. Now we have probable cause. I would like to accompany you, if you do not mind.”

  Tiza ran forward. “We don’t mind! That was awesome!”

  Neuro fell backward, he was so startled. His hood fell away in his tumble and revealed a face as pale as his hands, but his cheeks were tinged pink. His eyes were coal black and avoided the pretty girl praising him.

  “I-it was n-nothing, miss. Just d-doing my job…”

  Tiza bent over to help him up and continued holding his hand when he was on his feet.

  “I thought mercenaries had an exciting job, but you guys are another level.”

  Nolien scowled and stepped forward.

  “How do we know he wasn’t behind this? He could be working with Mr.15 and is trying to infiltrate our group with heroics.”

  Tiza smacked him upside the head. “Stop being a jealous idiot, Tenderfoot. You should know by now how important you are to me.”

  Nolien looked away. “Right. Sorry.”

  “I see,” Neuro said, relieved. “May neither of you die before the other.”

  Tiza blushed and shouted, “I didn’t mean that romantically! We’re just good friends and co-workers! Nothing more!”

  Neuro looked to Basilard, who nodded.

  “Yes, it’s like this all the time. Let’s move on. We’ve lost too much time already.”

  They moved through the town without further opposition. It was emptier than any of them remembered of it being when they first walked through two weeks previously. Neuro noted that the number of souls inhabiting the area was less than half of its average; they fled or died when Mr.15 made his move here. Only a handful remained and they remained in hiding while the group passed. If the Bladi man with the evil sword didn’t scare them, then the young man with the black cloak and scythe did.

  “Will they be okay?” Zettai asked Nolien.

  “As long as this land is fruitful, I believe they will preserve.”

  “If I do not recover the rest of the stolen life energy, then the population will diminish further,” Neuro said. “They might not have enough labor to work the land.”

  Nolien matched pace with him and said, “How did you know we needed help? A second later, and we would have died.”

  Tiza groaned. “Tenderfoot, are you still going on about that?”

  “The Trickster pulled my hood over
my head and stole my scythe. Naturally, I followed him. Then I sensed the necrocraft being worked at Mount Daici and hurried the rest of the way.”

  “That certainly sounds like The Trickster but –”

  Tiza pecked Nolien’s cheek and he lost his train of thought. Then she grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the town.

  As the party crossed the wasteland, the death priest spoke at length with Basilard. They discussed methods of subduing the Crimson Killer, his most likely plans, and the possibility that they would fight a reaper. The other three listened closely to their discussion.

  Reapers were to Lord Death what tricksters were to Lady Chaos; lesser gods that served a fundamental aspect of reality. It was their responsibility to travel through all the universes of a world fruit to monitor the steady process of death and decay. They were the ones who granted necrocraft to mortals, be they power-mongers like Caffour or priests like Neuro, and thus their link to their deity. Naturally, all this meant they were far more than any mortal could engage in a straightforward fight.

  “I’ve heard rumors that BloodDrinker was forged by a blacksmith who achieved Chaotic Enlightenment,” Neuro said. “If that’s true, then it might be able to kill reapers.”

  “It has such a power, but it’s more likely to kill all of us instead of only Reno Grade.”

  “I see. If that is the case, then we should strive to avoid him if possible. If not, at least my death will lead to my own ascension. Then I may be able to petition for your revival.”

  “No!”

  Tiza clenched her fists, gritted her teeth, and glared at the both of them.

  “I didn’t escape from Professor Pathetic’s cage just so you two could talk defeatism! If we find Rent-a-Spade, then I’m gonna steal his scythe and kill him with it. Even Death can die, right, Ivory?”

  “Ivory?” Neuro asked. Tiza glowered. “Uh...um…yes. A reaper’s scythe is the symbol of their office and their rank. They are no more immune to its power than anyone else.”

  Tiza thrust her chest out and said, “Problem solved.”

  Neuro whispered to Nolien, “Your Tiza does not want for confidence. Rarely do these sorts of people spend their full supply of kon.”

  “She’s not ‘my’ Tiza and I will make sure she does.”

  “Then you should learn lifecraft.”

  “Then we’d be rivals.”

  “How can I be a rival to someone who’s already won?”

  Nolien glared. “Stick to dead people; that’s a scythe, not a bow.”

  Neuro looked straight ahead. “As you wish.”

  Several hours later, they arrived at the base of the mountain. Tiza was grateful for the boots under her skirt because heels would have been torture for such a hike. Even so, the lack of mana in the air made it tiring. Nolien felt it more than she did and leaned on his staff. Zettai was better adjusted to the atmosphere, but in worse physical condition, so Basilard hoisted her on his shoulders at the halfway point. He himself was fine, but he touched the hilt of his sword every few minutes and his eyes flashed as power traveled between them. Only Neuro was unaffected by the hike, but even he gazed in awe upon the sight before them.

  A crackling mass of power as thin as air but as dense as an ocean filled their vision; the sheer magnitude of the cloud staggered all of them. It swirled upon itself peacefully, but anyone with a rudimentary understanding of mana knew that nothing inside was peaceful. Part of it drifted their way and Tiza involuntarily took a step backwards.

  A hand stopped her. “Don't worry,” the voice of her mentor said.

  Tiza shook her head. “I'm not,” she said without her usual vigor. “Tenderfoot is the coward.”

  The team's healer was backing away quickly. “I'm not goin' in there! No! I'm not!”

  “Nolien...” Basilard began, but Nolien rapidly shook his head.

  “So much mana-monsters – I might be monster-breathing the air!”

  Zettai jumped down from Basilard and dashed into the cloud. She removed her safety mask mid-step. Once inside, she took a deep breath and instantly glowed with the sudden intake of highly concentrated energy.

  “Crimson fire! Grant mmmmph!” Basilard clamped his hand over her mouth and dragged her out of the cloud. “What was that for?”

  “Weren't you listening to my lecture on the way here?” Basilard demanded. “If a spell is cast within a Mana Cloud, it could destabilize the Fog and cause an explosion.”

  Zettai hopped, skipped, and jumped away from both Basilard and the mountain and began the spell again. An acorn of flame briefly sprouted between her hands and then went out just as quickly. She ran back to the cloud, breathed in, and then ran back out and created another, slightly bigger sphere. By now, she was radiant and there was a mad gleam in her eyes.

  “Praise The Trickster! Praise the Trickster's Choice! GLORY TO LADY CHAOS!”

  Basilard rubbed his forehead. “Somehow, I feel like this was your plan all along.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him, dear nephew.” Mr.15 walked out of the Fog cloud. “You might say The Trickster arranged our family reunion.”

  Basilard stepped forward and pointed BloodDrinker. “You are not family! I disowned you.”

  BloodDrinker shimmered in affirmation.

  “Where is Eric?”

  Neuro stepped forward and pointed his scythe.

  “Exile of the Bladi Clan Number 586, I am Neuro of the Brotherhood of Death and by the power vested in me by Lord Death, I formally charge you with the following crimes: corrupting corpses, pilfering souls, stealing kon to power forbidden arts, and otherwise obstructing the orderly process of Rebirth. If you come quietly, you will receive mercy. If you do not, you will persecuted to the full law and custom of the Abyss.”

  “Oh my! Two young and powerful magic warriors have come to confront me for my evil deeds! Whatever shall I do?”

  He snapped his fingers and a small army emerged from the Fog Cloud. Scores of teenage to young adult warriors gathered at his back and spread out on both sides. Basilard's mouth dried, his legs weakened, and his mind reeled. They were his students, all of them clones of his first students as a Dragon's Lair instructor. So many at once put him into shock.

  “That man is not part of the Bladi clan. He is a traitor. Kill him.”

  “Yes, Father!”

  The army swooped down on their prey. Too shocked to move, Basilard didn’t try to defend himself, so Nolien and Tiza engaged them instead. The fighter cut them with her sword and bashed them with her barrier. The healer cast restoring spells with one hand and provided cover fire with the other. Neuro raised his scythe to aid them, but a hand grabbed the shaft on the back swing.

  “Outsiders should not interfere in a dispute between master and student.”

  Neuro yanked the staff out of his grip, reversed his momentum, and then slashed to cut him in half as he did Caffour. Mr.15 dodged and Neuro followed up with scythe combos. Zettai watched them dance from a distance, unable to help and hating herself for it.

  Basilard didn’t move. The emotional conflict within his heart was too great for him to take action on either side. Then clones burned Tiza’s arm and stabbed Nolien in the stomach. He smelled their fresh blood and burning flesh. His eyes refocused and he sprang into action.

  Soundlessly, he slashed the clones, one after another. The clones cried and protested and he struck harder and faster with each tear. They attacked him and every blow struck him fully and without defense. Blood ran down his body and it was impossible to tell how much was his and how much had splattered on him. All of it was absorbed by BloodDrinker. Then, without warning, he screamed and broke into such a frenzy that his students feared he'd turned into a monster. When the last one lay dead, he dropped BloodDrinker, fell to his knees, and cried.

  Mr.15 saw his opportunity and spirit-blasted Neuro into a large rock. He pounced on the fallen sword, but when he reached out for it, it blasted him onto his back. Neuro exploited this opening by bringing his scythe down on his h
ead, but Mr.15 rolled away and caught the next strike with his imitation BloodDrinker.

  “Even you, BloodDrinker? Did you allow him to take you from me?”

  The sword pulsed. Mr.15’s eyes narrowed. He exchanged more blows with Neuro while processing his former sword’s response.

  “I see. Your sapience is composed of our ancestors after all. If enough of them disapproved of my work, then of course you would betray me. Eight years ago, such a thing would push me into despair, but I am wiser now.”

  He ducked one strike and mana-bolted the young priest directly at his chest. In the brief respite that followed, he rushed back to BloodDrinker.

  “I will take you by force!”

  The sword shined and Mr.15’s right hand shined in response. A scar crossing his palm shifted from crimson red to coal black. He grimaced, yet forced his hand closer to BloodDrinker’s hilt. When at last he touched its leather wrapping, he could not close his fingers around it. They were dead. The shock delayed him enough for Neuro to attack again. An upswing sliced the arm clean off and the following downswing stuck him in the back. Nothing happened. He crouched and swept the boy’s feet from under him before he recovered.

  Suddenly, he was surrounded by mana bolts on all sides. There had to be fifty of them. Neuro scurried away, Nolien clenched his fist, and all fifty impacted at once. Not one of them breached his barrier, but that wasn’t the plan. The healer’s true objective was to get his traumatized leader to safety, treat his teammate’s burn, and if he had time, mend the hole in his own stomach.

  Neuro, by contrast, tried to use it as a cover for a Reaper Cleave. He approached from Mr.15’s right side because it would be missing an arm, drew back the scythe, and then followed through. His prey caught his scythe a second time, and with the arm he supposedly cut off as well.

  “How did you –”

  Mr.15 groin-kicked him down the path to the mountain’s summit, rolling over and over down to the novices carrying their mentor. Zettai was about to join them when she got an idea. If it worked, she could save Eric, and if it didn’t, at least she wouldn’t have to go back to jail.