Loremaster of the Amaranthine lands

A scattered line of undead warriors appeared on the edge of the torches’ light range, their rotting bodies pushed aside the unnatural dark fog.

“Ready yourselves!” The order came from left and right as the defenders of Hunor held their weapons and took up their positions along the wooden ramparts.

“That’s a lot of fallen for a 1st wave.” Sophie said as she quickly climbed atop the ramparts to have a better vantage point for her arrows.

“All right you lot,” Grego yelled at the dozens of refugees around his fellow guards. “Let us take care of the first ones and try to learn from our way of dealing with these bastards!”

Most of the new defenders were more than happy to let the guards kill the enemy, but some still had a defiant expression on their face. When the first wave of fallen was less than ten meters from them, a new command filled the air.

“Charge!”

Everyone raised their weapons and most of the guards and mercenaries began to run towards the rotting warriors that walked with small flames burning in their eye sockets. Regis quickly cast his mana shield spell and the disc shaped blue shield began to circle around his body. He ran forward and stepped to the side as he swung his bladestaff low.

The edge of the bladestaff flashed with a red glint as it cut through his undead opponent’s left knee, making it lose its balance. As soon as it crashed on the ground, its head was stabbed though by the blade, demonstrating the well-practiced set of movements. Regis wanted to attack the closest undead to his right, but a pitch black bolt of magic whizzed by him and corroded the fallen soldier’s head in mere seconds after it got struck.

He looked back to see Osmond nod at him with a slight smile before whacking another rotting opponent in the head with what seemed to be a cane with a round brass ball on its top. With plenty of undead shambling towards them, he had many opportunities to pick his targets. It took him a bit less than a quarter of an hour to get rid of five more infantrymen and two swordsmen along with what he recognised to be a berserker before the first wave got cleared and the defenders had the chance to rest for a moment.

The young dark elf looked around and noticed that the screams he heard during the fight belonged to several now dead refugees that lay on the ground not far from him.

“Poor fools,” he heard one of the guards sigh. “Lord Verner sent them to their deaths.”

“Watch your mouth,” another guard warned him. “We don’t know who might hear your words. The last thing we want is to get dragged into jail because you can’t keep your mouth shut!”

“He’s right though,” Grego said. “The city lord decided to cull the number of the refugees and everyone knows this. Now check your weapons! They’re going to be upon us any moment now.”

“Nice whip.” Khan noted aloud as he stared at Valerie’s choice of weapon.

“Thanks,” the infernal girl smiled. “It was either this or the great sword. This is more flexible and has a longer reach, although I could use some chopping power too sometimes.”

Regis walked closer to the rest of his group while listening to their banter, noticing that Quentin was using his healing prayer on Amanda. There was a small cut on the tall woman’s right arm that slowly closed itself under the warm light.

“You okay there?” He asked, earning a slight nod.

“One of the fallen swordsmen managed to nick me, but nothing serious. That Letty girl pulled a vine trap spell on the bastard just in time.”

“I take it you girls are getting along nicely.”

“She’s all right and her sister has a mean swing with that staff too. What about the albino on your side?”

“He’s holding himself fine,” Regis looked back at Osmond. “He took down the ones that came at me from the wrong angle and I’ve kept a few of the rotters from reaching him when he had other fallen in his sight. I’d say that’s better than what those poor sods over there could manage.”

“You’ve killed more because you’re a hybrid wizard while I only rarely use melee attacks,” Osmond spoke up suddenly from behind him. “I’ve never been the athletic type like Cruz or you. Still, I can’t deny that having a fellow spell weaver watch my back is quite refreshing. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I… shit, here they come!” The young dark elf tried to answer before noticing another undead beyond the torch’s light.

“Where?” Osmond asked with his eyebrows raised, but a few moments later several fallen swordsmen shambled into the light.

“The second wave is here!” One of the guard captains yelled and everyone formed up into a defensive line in front of the ramparts once more.

This time, the enemy’s numbers were larger and after defeating two of the rotting swordsmen, Regis found himself staring at a plate armour-wearing brute.

“Not these guys again!” He said as he readied himself, but the sight of the giant battle-axe in the fallen warrior’s hands made him nervous.

Making use of the creature’s glowing eyes focusing on him, he cast his innate earth wall spell just a few steps in front of the abomination. It grew just tall enough to make the undead trip, giving him the chance to attack with better odds. Regis lunged towards the stumbling warrior with his bladestaff stabbing forward, but the undead still had enough sense to swing the flat side of its axe towards the incoming strike.

The bladestaff got swept aside, making him stumble as well, barely jumping away from the following attack of the armoured brute. He tried to swing at the back of his enemy’s knee, but it stepped back from the attack and swung at him with its axe again.

“Need help?” Regis heard a firm feminine voice from his right and noticed Cruz getting closer.

“I’ll manage. Keep an eye on the others if you can.”

“Whatever.” Cruz shrugged as she turned to smash another undead’s skull in before punching the one beside it with her cloth-wrapped fist.

‘I’ve got to get this thing down on my level!’ He thought as he aimed his bladestaff towards the battle-axe with a piercing strike. The axe got pushed back momentarily, giving him just enough time to repeat the attack with the undead’s right knee as its target. Another piercing strike was aimed at his enemy’s leg that went through the gap between the two leg armours, almost severing its kneecap completely.

Regis yanked his bladestaff sideways to further increase the damage as the armoured undead tried to step away. The upper part of its leg slid off from the severed part when the creature shifted its weight, making it stumble and fall. A heavy thud echoed amongst the rest of the battle noises as the plate armoured body hit the ground, but before the fallen warrior could move again, a red glint flashed towards its head, severing it from its neck.

He stepped on the rolling head to stop it before stabbing it through its burning eye socket. The last time he killed one of these squires, a physique orb appeared from the corpse, but now there was no sign of anything useful. He couldn’t waste time stripping any of his enemies for useful equipment, so he just headed towards his next target.

“I imagined you’d kill it with a close-ranged combat spell when you couldn’t cut it at first.” Osmond wheezed from behind him, making Regis roll his eyes.

“It was covered with plate armour and that axe had a large head. Initiate ranked magic would have been useless, or at least the spells I have.”

“I see,” Osmond nodded. “Are you lacking in projectile spells?”

“No, but neither of them is strong enough to punch through a plate armour like that.”

“I see,” the pale youth chuckled. “The life of a wizard is full of struggle, but that makes our success all the sweeter.”

“Spare the theatrics for when we have the time.” Regis said as he kneecapped another infantryman before stabbing it to death.

“You always seem to do the same attack pattern before finishing them off.”

“I use that move set because it works. I’ve learned this combo on my first battle here. It served me well ever since.”

“Will it help against that thing as well?” Osmond asked with a playful tone as a robed undead came closer to them.

The new enemy went straight towards Regis with a sudden gale bursting forth from its damaged sceptre. It pushed the youth back only by a step before he managed to get his footing. Before he could counterattack, however, a small lightning struck the undead spell caster. The young dark elf looked to his side, Fabien nodding back at him before attacking a different target. Regis turned back towards the still-stunned undead and he stabbed towards its head with his piercing strike.

His bladestaff pierced into his rotting enemy’s skull and the flames in its eyes faded away. He yanked the bladestaff back and the undead wizard’s carcass fell on the ground. Taking a quick look around, he caught sight of Amanda zooming forward using her bulrush skill, bulldozing down several undead while doing so before smashing her blazing hammer into the chest of an undead squire. The dark elf took a deep breath to get his bearings, but Quentin’s yell shook him up.

“Ghouls!” The wannabe paladin roared as dozens of abominations appeared from the unnatural darkness, running towards the defenders.

“Osmond, get back to the others!” Regis yelled as he turned towards his group and began to run with all he had.

The pale youth followed close behind him but they barely reached the edge of their team before the ghouls were upon them. Regis did a sweep with his bladestaff towards the abomination that lounged at him, severing both of its arms with his heavy strike skill while the monster was reaching towards him. It screamed with a terrifying tone as it landed before Regis who quickly beheaded it.

The young dark elf didn’t have the time to take a breath as another ghoul jumped at him. It grabbed the bladestaff and pushed him to the ground. The ghoul loomed over the youth, pushing the staff downwards while Regis did the opposite. It only let go of the weapon for a moment to stab the youth with its clawed hand, but the small mana shield took the hit in his stead.

Regis tried to summon his quartz shot while holding onto his staff, but he was barely halfway through casting his spell when the creature opened its razor sharp teeth filled maw and bit towards his head. He let go of the staff with his left hand to hold it in front of his face, the ghoul biting down on his forearm. Regis was terrified by the creature’s attack, but the pain was worse than expected. Dozens of small nail-like teeth pierced through his vambrace and flesh, only stopped by his bone.

The youth screamed out as he let go of his staff with his other hand and punched the ghoul to make it stumble for a moment. He unsheathed his iron dagger and stabbed it into the ghoul’s throat, yanking it sideways to slit it wide open. The abomination let go of his arm and rolled off of him as it clutched its neck to stop the black blood from spewing out, but the elven youth jumped up on his feet and stabbed his bladestaff toward the creature’s heart. The piercing strike carried all of his strength as it skid off a rib to stab into its target.

A hellish scream filled the battlefield as the ghoul trashed around, trying to pull the bladestaff from its chest, but the dark elf held it firmly until the abomination stopped its movement and the Amaranth that once fuelled its movements broke free from its body under Regis’ call.

“Are you all right?” Osmond and Quentin asked at the same time as they’ve managed to get rid of their own opponents.

“I’m still breathing, if that counts.” He wheezed as he held on to his staff, half kneeling on the ground while trying to heal his arm.

“That makes you luckier than Khan.” Quentin said with a pained tone as he walked beside a ghoul’s remains.

Regis looked over to see the paladin kneel down near the empty spot beside the corpse. The ghoul had its chest cut apart, along with its neck.

“What happened?” The young dark elf limped his way to the mourning paladin while chewing on a few Landwaker seeds to replenish his empty arcana reserves.

“He got tackled by a ghoul after killing another. I’ve seen it ram its claws into his chest. Khan still fought to the bitter end though and managed to take the damn thing with him. His body disappeared before I could get closer to help him.”

“I’m sorry Quentin,” Regis patted his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve tried your best, but we got swarmed. None of us could do anything besides trying to survive.”

“I know,” the man nodded. “But I still feel as if I’ve let him down.”

“There are always causalities in war,” Grego said from the side. “It is the duty of the survivors to keep on fighting for those who can’t anymore. I’m sure that your friend would say the same. He was a true warrior.”

“He damn sure was!” Quentin shook himself free from grief to stand up again.

“Gather the wounded while you can! There’s no telling when the next horde comes.” The captain gave his order and dozens of injured refugees were dragged back to the ramparts.

Quentin used his healing prayers to help whomever he could, even erasing the bite and claw marks on Regis’ arm. The darkness that stretched in front of them roiled with malice and after about an hour or so of dreadful silence, hundreds of undead began to show themselves in a spread-out line.

“We’re so fucked.” Cruz cursed as she gripped her staff, edging closer to Osmond and Letty.

“I can’t stop this many,” Letty stuttered. “I’ll run out of arcana after summoning a few vine traps and a barbed bush or two.”

“Just do what you can and be ready to run,” Regis said as he recast his arcana shield. “They’ll order us to retreat once it gets too hairy.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sophie mumbled. “I’m almost out of arrows. Most of them broke when they hit bone and the other archers are running out too.”

“Steady yourselves!” The command came from the ramparts as the defenders grabbed their weapons, forming a tight line.

The ragtag defenders of Hunor stared at the shambling undead that marched towards them, but the sound of an ancient horn from the darkness beyond the battlefield made everyone feel a chill run down their spine.