Awaken Online: Dominion

by Travis Bagwell

  The monster stood on the other side of the room, unmoving. It was like it was waiting for them to attack. Or perhaps it was just taunting them.

  “We need a better plan,” Riley said in a low voice. “Attacking it from the front isn’t working, and we don’t have much time left before it kills us or we run out of stamina.”

  Jason clutched at his side, feeling the broken rib shift beneath his skin as his natural mana regen tried to help his body recover. It would take some time before the rib reset on its own. Right now, he needed to work through the pain. He knew Riley was right, but he failed to see a way to defeat the creature. The thing seemed invincible. Its bandages acted like tentacles and allowed it to fend off both of them at once. If only they had another person like Frank or some way to overwhelm the monster – assuming it even had a limit to the number of attacks it could make at once.

  As that last thought occurred to him, Jason hesitated. Did it have an attack limit? His mind was already reviewing the battle. In the darkness, he had never heard more than two or three of the noises at once. And when he and Riley had rushed the monster, it had only devoted two of its bandages to each of them. Could it only use four of the straps at the same time?

  He couldn’t be positive, but he also wasn’t sure they had anything to lose at this point. It was time to gamble again.

  “I have an idea,” Jason muttered, and quickly whispered his observation.

  Riley simply looked at him in response, her expression grim. “I know what to do,” she said as a determined look settled across her face. “You are only going to have a small window. Make the most of it.”

  “Wait, what do you…” Jason began. But it was too late.

  Riley launched herself forward toward the monster and Jason struggled to follow directly behind her, forcing himself to ignore the piercing pain in his chest as he re-summoned his Bone Armor one last time – using the remainder of the resources stored in his body.

  The monster didn’t move as it launched two bandages at Riley. Jason expected her to dodge, but instead, she held her position. Just as the bandages reached her, she did something insane. Riley accepted the blows and used the opportunity to stab into the cloth with her blades as she simultaneously tumbled forward. This essentially wrapped her in the bandages and trapped them against her skin. She had barely survived the maneuver, her health beginning to redline. He could only imagine the pain had been excruciating.

  Jason leaped over her prone form as the creature struggled to retract the cloth bands. Riley wouldn’t let it, and she slammed her blades into the ground, using them to stop herself from being dragged across the floor toward the monster. Then the creature changed tactics and started to constrict the bandages, Riley letting out a tortured scream even as Jason heard a popping sound echo through the room.

  He wanted to turn and help her – every cell in his body screamed that he needed to protect Riley. He couldn’t bear the tortured sounds coming from behind him. Yet he forced himself to keep running. He couldn’t let her sacrifice be in vain. If he turned back now, they would both die.

  The creature seemed to realize that Jason was still coming and diverted its attention, sending two bandages whipping at him. But Jason was ready, and the creature’s movements were slower than usual as it struggled with Riley. He whipped his staff forward and sliced a bandage out of the air with a well-timed Soul Slash, even while side-stepping the other blow neatly.

  The creature seemed to become more frantic as it saw Jason closing. Riley’s blades were ripped from the stone as it dragged her across the floor again, even while constricting the bands violently. She let out another scream of pain that was abruptly cut off with a choking cough, and then there was just silence. Jason felt dread well in his stomach as he realized what must have happened. Yet he refused to look at his group menu. He needed to focus – even if it took everything he had not to look back at Riley.

  Then he was in melee range, and there was no room for any other thoughts. The cloth bandages were peeling away from the creature’s skin now, creating a rustling vortex that revealed a core of malevolent dark energy underneath. Jason didn’t slow down at all. He launched forward, springing toward the creature as he swung his staff, channeling every ounce of rage and mana into a single Soul Slash, roaring his fury even without realizing it.

  This thing had killed Riley. Now it was going to die.

  Multiple bands curled through the air, trying to intercept the blow. Yet the blade of dark energy sliced through each strand like hot butter. Jason could barely feel the resistance. His blow struck home, arcing through what might have been the creature’s neck. A blast of dark energy rocketed from its throat and sprayed the ceiling, causing the stone to melt and warp under the pressure.

  Even as the mana began to fade, the bands hung in the air for a moment. Suspended by the last traces of dark energy, they flailed like the last dying twitches of a desiccated octopus. The bands clawed toward Jason, trying to cling to his skin. Yet they lacked their previous force, now reduced to mere strips of cloth again as he watched the monster die.

  As the creature’s body finally broke apart and the bandages slumped to the floor in a haphazard pile, Jason looked down at bundle with a dark expression. Pain still radiated through his chest and his eyes blazed with unholy power. He spat on the cloth, his black blood mixing with the spittle and staining the fabric.

  “That’s for killing Riley,” he croaked in a hoarse voice.

  Then he slumped to his knees, the last of his stamina finally running dry. They had won. It had cost them, but they had won. Now there was only one challenge left.

  Chapter 38 - Charred

  The airship settled to the ground with a jolt that sent a tremor through the wooden deck beneath Alexion’s feet. Only a few dozen yards away, the edge of the dark forest loomed before him, the branches of the dead trees clawing at the air. His Confessors and Nephilim immediately disembarked and prepared a loose defensive line facing the forest, many nervously eyeing the nearby tree line.

  “Are you ready?” Evelyn asked as she approached. Alexion noted that she still wore the same corset and tunic and wielded no obvious weapons. Her manservant Frederick stood close, his eyes watching Alexion like a hawk. Perhaps he was a bodyguard?

  “Ready as we will ever be, I suppose,” Alexion replied shortly. “It seems that the Twilight Throne’s forces have nearly captured the last village within the dark city’s radius of influence. They are too far away to reinforce the towns on the western border at this point.”

  “So, an easy win for us,” she replied, a hungry grin curling her lips.

  “I guess,” Alexion replied noncommittally.

  “You don’t seem confident in our success,” Evelyn noted dryly.

  Alexion hesitated as he recounted his last conversation with Jason at the party. He had underestimated his nemesis before, and it had cost him dearly. He wouldn’t make that same mistake again, even if it galled him to admit that Jason was a cunning opponent.

  “When I spoke with him at the party, Jason indicated that these villages might not be unprotected,” he offered tentatively.

  Evelyn raised a single eyebrow in response. “How difficult could it be to defeat a few undead – especially since they were just recently converted?”

  “I don’t know,” Alexion replied, irritation tinging his voice. “However, it may be wise to exercise caution.”

  This earned him a tinkling laugh from the woman. “Now that’s something I never thought I would hear you say. By all means, let us proceed… cautiously.” With this last statement, Evelyn stepped down the gangplank and onto solid ground. Frederick spared one last wordless look at Alexion before he followed her.

  Alexion was left standing there, his thoughts troubled. A strange sensation welled in his chest, and he still couldn’t shake the look he had seen in Jason’s and Riley’s eyes – as though they were almost different people, not the weak-willed playthings he had once known. He shook his head, suddenly a
ngry with himself. He was just being weak.

  His eyes settled on the forest, glowing gold as he inadvertently channeled his mana. Evelyn was right; these villages wouldn’t last long against his forces, especially with the element of surprise in his favor. They would take what they wanted, and the funds from selling their newfound slaves would be used to grow his army. Then no one and nothing would be able to stop him – not even Jason.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Alexion found himself perched in a tree looking out at the village of Fastu. The gesture was futile with the darkness that hovered over the forest, the boiling black clouds blotting out any trace of the sun. He could barely make out the walls of the nearby town, much less whether any guards dotted its ramparts. No torches or fires lit the encampment, and only the occasional shout indicated that unliving people resided inside its walls.

  What did draw his attention, however, was the small icon that lingered in the corner of his vision, reminding him that his stats, as well as those of his troops, had been reduced by the evil aura exuded by the Twilight Throne. He had encountered this debuff before, and he knew it wasn’t to be underestimated. Not only did it make his forces weaker, but it empowered the undead. They were fighting on Jason’s home turf now.

  With a frustrated sigh, Alexion jumped off the branch, using his golden wings to coast gently to the ground. At the base of the tree, his forces ringed him. His Confessors and Nephilim watched him expectantly. They awaited his orders as they clutched at their weapons, their faces faintly illuminated by the lone ball of light hovering nearby. Despite the blazing devotion in his Confessors’ eyes, he still detected a glimmer of worry. Since his conversation with Evelyn, something had felt off, although Alexion couldn’t place his finger on precisely what was wrong.

  “Did you discover anything?” Evelyn demanded, tapping her foot impatiently. She seemed to have grown ever more frustrated as Alexion insisted on carefully scouting out the town before attacking. However, he was the one bearing the risk here if his men perished and so they would proceed at whatever pace he chose.

  “Nothing noteworthy,” Alexion replied evenly. “We are ready to launch the attack.” His men shuffled anxiously at that statement, looking more alert.

  “Finally,” Evelyn muttered.

  Alexion ignored her as he addressed his troops. “We will face a few challenges. There is no light since the town’s inhabitants are all undead.” He spared a glance at his Nephilim. “We will open the battle by creating a few globes of light over the town. We can’t fight if we can’t see what we’re doing.

  “The first wave will be the Confessors,” he continued, eyeing the white-robed men and women. “Attack the front gate and burn it down. You will be taking the brunt of whatever resistance these villagers put up – although, I am certain you are more than capable of enduring this pain for the Lady’s cause.” Many of the white-robed men and women simply nodded, their eyes eager to accept whatever penance the lady deemed necessary.

  “Once the defenders are focused on the Confessors, the Nephilim will attack from the rear wall. Take the enemy from behind and strike fast and hard,” Alexion instructed. “You will only have the element of surprise once. However, do not slay any unarmed townsfolk and, where possible, try to cripple, not kill. We are here for slaves. We only need to kill those that are too stubborn or too stupid to surrender.”

  “Understood?” he asked as he finished.

  His troops all gave him various nods and murmurs of understanding.

  “Okay, then let’s get started. And may the Lady’s light be with us!”

  The Nephilim immediately filtered through the trees, moving north to flank the town. In contrast, his Confessors moved to the roadway and started to march toward the gate, abandoning any pretense of trying to hide as flames ignited around their bare fists and pushed back at the encroaching darkness.

  “And where will we be?” Evelyn asked with contrived sweetness, her manservant still standing silent vigil beside her.

  “I was thinking you deserve a front row seat,” Alexion replied with a faint smile. He offered a hand. “That is if you will permit me to escort you.” He noticed Frederick grimace at the gesture.

  Evelyn’s smile widened as she placed her hand in his. “Lead the way.”

  Without asking for further permission, Alexion pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. Enjoying the look of surprise on her face, he pushed off from the ground. His golden wings flapped powerfully as the pair rose into the treetops. Below them, he could practically hear Evelyn’s manservant growling in frustration.

  Alexion soon settled on a wide branch with a good view of the nearby village, leaving his arm around Evelyn’s waist to offer support. Or at least that’s how he rationalized it to himself.

  Evelyn frowned, and her brow furrowed in frustration. “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind,” she remarked pointedly.

  “Ahh, perhaps I should have been clearer,” Alexion responded without much contrition, savoring her closeness and the off-balance look on her face.

  The pair didn’t have much more time to discuss the awkward encounter as lights suddenly bloomed in the night sky, artificial sunlight now raining down over the village of Fastu and finally giving Alexion a clear view of the town. The first thing that registered was that the walls were no longer wooden – as his scouts had initially reported. Instead, they were a solid crystal-like ebony that stretched far into the air, with ramparts running the length of the barricade. Even the gate appeared to be made of the same substance.

  Besides these changes, Alexion noted a thin spire near the gate that towered above the small town. The structure had been almost invisible in the darkness, but now he could see that it seemed to radiate a dark aura that set his teeth on edge. He had no idea what the tower might be able to do, but it appeared that caution had indeed been a good course of action – even if his plan might be stymied since the gate was no longer constructed of wood.

  Not that it would likely matter. Even if the Confessors couldn’t break into the town, the Nephilim could still use the distraction to slay the defenders by attacking from the rear.

  As though his thoughts had summoned them, the white-robed men and women came into view, nearing the gates. Alexion could hear a cry of warning fill the air as the villagers noticed their presence. Shadowy forms soon filled the walkways above the gates, drawing back on the strings of their bows as they prepared to fire. The Confessors broke into a sprint, and a hail of dark missiles met their charge. They never wavered or broke formation as the wooden shafts penetrated their skin. Instead of pulling the missiles free, the Confessors channeled their flames. Their fires burned away the shafts, and their wounds closed as their natural regeneration took hold.

  A few tense moments later, they were at the gate. They beat their fiery fists against the crystal to no avail before a group had the foresight to band together. They formed a rough line facing the gate, leaving only a few feet between each Confessor. As one, they raised their palms to face the gate and shouted the Lady’s name. Fire rocketed from their open palms and crashed against the ebony surface. Some of the flames were deflected upward, incinerating a few of the undead on the ramparts that were too slow to move away. The others learned their lesson and retreated along the walkway to avoid the flames.

  As the seconds ticked by and the fire continued to rage against the gate, Alexion was worried that the attack wouldn’t work. However, that concern was short-lived. A crack began to form in the crystal, growing and lengthening as the Confessors continued their assault. It was only a matter of time.

  “Where are the Nephilim?” Evelyn asked.

  “They should be coming…” Alexion began and stopped as his troops suddenly made their appearance. Dozens of white-winged men and women swooped down from the rear of the village, ignoring the unarmed townsfolk deeper in the town. Rays of light lanced from their hands as they struck at the undead defenders from behind. When they drew close, they broke into a div
e, using their spears to impale undead flesh. However, the undead responded quickly to the attack, closing ranks and trading blows with the Nephilim, the dark aura strengthening their attacks even as it weakened Alexion’s troops.

  Finally, the gate began to crumble. A sickly black substance melted away under the intense heat, and the massive crack widened until chunks of crystal began to crash to the ground. As the gate began to waver and fall, it suddenly swung open, and the flames of the Confessors briefly obscured Alexion’s view of the interior town.

  A wave of force seemed to strike his Confessors, sending many flying through the air where they landed in a heap of crumpled limbs. As the flames cleared, Alexion saw that his troops had been met by a row of Death Knights. The residents had thrown open the gates at the last second, using the surprise to turn the tide on his white-robed zealots. More than one Confessor was now impaled on a spiked shield as the skeletal monsters waded through their ranks and many more lay unmoving on the ground nearby. A heavy weight settled in Alexion’s stomach as he watched the scene play out.

  Is Jason here? His eyes darted to the nearby forest, expecting a counter attack. Yet, as the seconds ticked by, no surprise force emerged from the trees – leaving him confused.

  His injured Confessors managed to regroup, their wounds closing quickly as the zealots worked in groups of two or three to incinerate the massive skeletons. It was slow, grueling work as they tried to dodge the blows of the Death Knights. Meanwhile, his Nephilim closed ranks on the last of the defenders that were holed up near the gate, and the undead tumbled from the ramparts or fell to the ground at the gate – their bodies unmoving.

  Alexion’s troops squeezed the defenders from both sides, sandwiching them between his Confessors and Nephilim. There was no escape now. While the undead had put up a good fight – the battle would soon be over. As he watched, one of the last remaining undead rushed toward the thin spire Alexion had noticed earlier and his brow furrowing in confusion. Was this a final defense? Some weapon of last resort?