Call of the Abyss [Book 2 Complete]

"...I don't suppose you'd care much if I mentioned how unfair these numbers are?" Julia joked, still trying to stall as long as possible.

"It is well that you seek fairness, for you will find naught so fair as death," the lead—or most outspoken, at least—Barrowlord said, beginning to advance on her. The others started forward slowly as well, their pace unhurried and their posture menacing.

Having apparently reached the end of her ability to stall, Julia began last-minute preparations that she hadn't made while hiding for fear of drawing attention to herself.

Trixy reared up off Julia's back, eyes glowing and crackling with yellow bolts. Her tail was still wrapped around Julia's waist, but with most of her body floating up behind Julia's back and over her shoulder, she cut an intimidating figure.

Julia's armor began to glow an increasingly deep, crimson red. It started undulating in what looked like surface waves on water before the waves lifted off the armor as blood-red fire. As the small flames crested, they crackled with bloody lightning rather than ocean spray.

Her body was encased in Faraday's Armor with a consuming twist—any undead making contact with her at all would be in for a rude surprise. As she finished her preparations and thought desperately for any other precautions she could take, the sapphire-colored ring on her finger grew heavy, like its weight had suddenly increased.

Accompanying the feeling, thoughts popped into her head unbidden. Most were fleeting glimpses of ideas that she couldn't quite catch hold of, but there were some that stuck. One such thought was more a realization than an idea—it was dots that were present but separated in her mind suddenly connecting.

Julia glanced over her shoulder at Trixy—fangs bared and eyes glowing—and suddenly realized that they could share mana between themselves. She was already aware of this, of course. She got the ability quite a while ago. However, what she hadn't yet realized were the implications of sharing mana, for many could carry intent and will.

Trixy's fur began to sizzle and flare off her body, turning to crimson fire, her claws sparked with bloody lightning, and her fangs dripped a blood-red water. Trixy's body was made of mana, and if that mana came from Julia with the will to consume, it would be much more effective against the undead.

Julia pushed the ring back up on her finger, it having nearly slid completely off somehow, and took a ready stance. The Barrowlords were almost within range, but she would be in striking range of them before they were in hers. Their reach was going to be an issue.

Suddenly, a torrent of silver fire burst from the nashiin's backlines. Nearly the entire horde turned to face that direction, while the five Barrowlords continued their advance. The Zal'Nadir had arrived, but they had a small army to get through before they could assist Julia.

Realizing that she wasn't alone, but she was on her own, Julia sprung into action. She lowered her weight, and she and Trixy burst in opposite directions. Julia moved so fast that her human mind would've had trouble keeping up, but her Spirit Body incorporated her former Parallel Processing Skill, so this speed was no challenge to her.

The first Barrowlord she encountered raised its towering sword, pulling back to cleave her in two. Julia threw herself to the ground and slid, momentum carrying her between the giant's legs. The blade howled overhead—the shockwave of its passing rent the very air apart.

Catching herself on the ground with her open hand at the end of the slide, she struck the Barrowlord's knee with the blade of her crimson-charged sword. The blow smashed into the joint but glanced off with a shriek of metal. The consuming magic might unmake the nashiin's death-wrought sorcery like it wasn't even there—but metal was still metal. She wouldn't be slicing through these armored colossi so easily.

Julia used the momentum of her deflected strike to step back as the Barrowlord spun on the leg she'd struck and kicked at her with the other. The massive foot missed her gut by less than a finger's length. She caught its leg with her open hand and, bracing it with the back of her sword hand, threw the foot upward with all her might.

The Barrowlord staggered backward and toppled with a crash like a falling tree, shaking the ground as it landed. With its bulk out of her line of sight, Julia spotted two more Barrowlords approaching—swords drawn, pace unchanged. They weren't even trying to hurry.

She leaped onto the fallen giant's chest, unwilling to waste her opening. Driving her sword into the gap between gorget and helm, she struck just as the monster's enormous gauntlets clamped down on her shoulders.

"Aaaaaaah!" she screamed, channeling crimson lightning and fire through the blade. Red light burst from the joints of the armor as the Barrowlord thrashed beneath her. Its hands released her shoulders, but she held on, wrapping her legs around its chest and forcing the torrent deeper.

The thrashing stopped. Its struggle lasted just for a second—that second was enough.

Two more Barrowlords loomed over her.

Julia yanked her sword free and rolled backward off the ruined lord's chest an instant before a sword came crashing down like divine wrath, cratering the armor where she'd been.

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Julia leaped to her feet to see the Barrowlord struggling to lift its sword from the ruined remains of its comrade. Had it been paying close attention, it might've noticed the small script anchoring the weapon in place:

ᛁᛗᛗᛟᚢᚨᛒᛚᛖ

"Immovable." Julia had woven them the moment the lord's thrashing stopped—just before she rolled away.

Of course, the runes didn't truly make the sword immovable. It simply forced the creature to exert more strength than the mana she had poured into it. But it gave her time.

The other Barrowlord, uninhibited, lowered its stance and charged. The weight of its advance felt like an approaching storm, but before Julia could react, a great shriek echoed across the battlefield.

The charging Barrowlord turned its head mid-stride—just in time to see another lord collapsing in on itself a few strides away. Its armor was imploding, as if a vacuum had opened in its chest. Its helmet blasted off, and Trixy burst from the cavity wreathed in crimson lightning and flame, licking her chops…

Julia suppressed a retch at the thought of all the strands of meat inside Barrowlords' chests—and the possibility that Trixy had eaten some of them. Disgusting.

She took advantage of the distraction, dashing into the charging lord's guard and thrusting her sword into the narrow gap between cuirass and fauld—briefly exposed as the armor flexed mid-charge. The blade met resistance, but holding it steady for half a second was enough. Crimson lightning and fire lanced into the seam, forcing their way through.

Just as Julia was about to finish the job, Trixy transformed into a streak of bloody lightning and jammed herself into the very gap Julia had opened.

"Hey!" Julia snapped, backing off as her chance at a killing blow vanished. The Barrowlord's focus snapped back to her, and she darted aside, narrowly avoiding a sword swing heavy enough to split the earth.

But before the blade even struck, the Barrowlord let out a now-familiar shriek.

Julia caught sight of Trixy's glowing core jammed up against the breach in the armor. She clearly couldn't squeeze all the way in, but the distance must not have been far. Trixy wriggled free—licking her chops again—and zipped back to Julia's side in a bloody streak as the Barrowlord began to implode.

"That one was mine!" Julia groused, half-laughing. The stench of burnt rot hit her like a slap, sharp and sickly, and her eyes threatened to water. Trixy yipped in return as they both turned toward the first Barrowlord, which had finally torn its sword free from Julia's runic script.

"One dead, two dead from Trixy, three dead from the two of us, four just freeing its sword… where is—"

A greatsword's tip burst from her chest.

"Gah—" Julia coughed, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. It didn't hurt as much as it would have if she were still human, but it certainly wasn't pleasant. She figured it must be a grim sight already, so she made a quick decision—to abandon the last sliver of humanity she'd been gripping tightly since her evolutions.

Her form shifted like wet clay, molding itself around the blade. Moments later, she stood face-to-face with her attacker—its sword still jutting through her chest, her cuirass now on backwards, and her eyes blazing with red plasma.

Dropping her own weapon, she grabbed the sword with both hands and pulled it toward her. The Barrowlord took a step back, trying to wrench the blade free—only for Julia to do something she hadn't done yet, despite weeks of knowing how: she increased her weight to the maximum.

Her feet sank into the ground, and the sword froze in place.

Julia pulled. The hilt crept toward her.

The Barrowlord pulled. The blade refused to move.

Realizing the effort was futile, the Barrowlord began to release the weapon—only to be slammed from behind by Trixy, bloody flames licking up the back of its armor. It stumbled forward, nearly falling, but Julia was already moving.

She caught its helmet between both hands—now conveniently at her height—and poured plasma directly over it. It surged across the helm, crackling, arcing, and flooding into the narrow slit of the facemask.

The Barrowlord released an ear-piercing shriek—a scream thick with the agony of damned souls—as crimson plasma poured from every gap and joint in its armor.

The shrieking stopped. The lord collapsed in a heap of scorched metal.

Julia glanced down at the sword still embedded in her chest. She could feel the death mana trying to eat at her from within—but it was no match for her own consuming mana. It was nothing she hadn't handled before.

What she hadn't seen before was what her armor showed her. As she passed mana over the holes in the front and back of her cuirass, she found the edges horribly corroded—pitted and blackened, as though they'd been submerged in a swamp for centuries.

That, she would need to investigate.

If she could reproduce whatever that was, stabbing through armor might become realistic.

She looked toward the last Barrowlord, now standing still with its sword resting on its shoulder. It glanced at the horde—now almost entirely destroyed—and then back to Julia. Shaking its head, it reached down and picked up a shard of the crystal she'd broken.

"I see. We have underestimated you again, Zhul'Kareth," it said, its voice like the stale air of a tomb. It crushed the shard in its massive palm, and black smoke billowed up around it.

"I will bring word that it must be the Thol'Morrak to recruit you. No other will—"

Its words were cut off by a shriek as the smoke cloud was engulfed in silver fire. The immolation reduced the Barrowlord to molten slag that splattered to the ground in glowing globs. The sickly black smoke was devoured by golden crests riding the silver flames—until nothing remained. Then the flames winked out.

"We are here to get information, not give it," Ithshar said as her party emerged from towering piles of ruined bone and debris. They had utterly annihilated the small army.

Julia was reminded once again: this was likely the most powerful force in the Zal'Nadir—perhaps in the entire marsh.