Ogre Tyrant

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 51 - Cooperation is key - Part One

The sky was beginning to darken as the large and incomplete curtain walls appeared in the distance. Practically swarming with dark humanoid figures, it wasn’t until the battalion drew closer that I began to make out the squat tower in the centre of the incomplete defences.

However, the arrival of the battalion generated a similar reaction to kicking over an anthill. Warhorns, feral screams and discordant shouts filled the air as the Goatmen abandoned their siege of the tower and began swarming out of the valley.

The Asrusian soldiers took up defensive formations that made the best use of the rugged terrain and the Kobold auxiliaries did much the same.

Archers, crossbowmen, slingers and skirmishers hurling javelins exacted a punishing toll on the Goatmens centremost mass, causing the horde to splinter before the Goatmen reached the braced Asrusian and Kobold spears.

With little to no armour, the Goatmen were prime targets for every strike of opportunity.

Conversely, the Asrusians and Kobold spearmen were able to shrug off glancing blows entirely and weather direct hits while taking minimal damage.

The traditional nature of the engagement quickly changed as the exotic Class Abilities of the Asrusians were deployed to devastating effect.

A portly-looking middle-aged Sergeant raised two thick sticks and began belting out an aggressive and highly repetitive series of notes on the large drum anchored to his midsection. Alternating and combining strikes against the rim, the side and the skin of the drum, the Sergeant’s aggressive tempo brought a whole new dimension of excitement and anticipation to the imminent violence.

I felt a fuzzy sensation take hold of my chest and noticed a visible change in the soldiers and Kobolds as well. Instead of nervously anticipating the approach of the enemy, they had grown markedly restless instead.

Banners bearing crests of both the Asrusian Royal family and Sanctuary erupted to life and fluttered vibrantly in the otherwise still air, propelled into motion by the mana of the soldiers that bore them.

Leaving his spear impaled in the bowels of a staggering Goatman, a large Asrusian soldier stepped forward from the formation and kicked another Goatman in the chest, causing a torrent of bloody viscera to erupt out of the Goatman’s back.

A shorter woman released an inhuman howl as an extra pair of arms materialised on her back. Each of the new clawed hands held thick ridged shortswords and seemed to move independently of the soldier’s immediate perception, blocking and deflecting incoming strikes while the soldier pushed into the scattered ranks of the Goatmen.

An otherwise unassuming soldier on the leftmost flank became shrouded in a cloak of darkness, levitating slightly off the ground. His longsword became sheathed in ephemeral pale blue light and visibly drained the strength from any Goatmen he struck. At the same time, he shrugged off any attacks he received in turn.

“WITNESS!” A female soldier shrieked with determination, breaking ranks and rushing toward the enemy, “Witness!” The five other soldiers from her immediate vicinity cried in unison as charged after her a moment later. Each blow they delivered against the Goatmen was accompanied by the cawing of ravens, and every Goatman slain in their vicinity generated a sparse cloud of near translucent grey feathers.

Every kill drove the six soldiers into a greater frenzy, hacking and hewing through limbs with bestial vigour and speed.

A trio of soldiers followed in the six soldiers' wake, pale nearly invisible wings of copper light flickering upon their backs and over their shoulders. Besides following the other soldiers, they themselves made no attempts at actively engaging the enemy.

Up and down the formation, other soldiers activated their Abilities to unexpected and violent effect.

Bright flashes of golden light sporadically erupted from the ranks of the soldiers as the Goatman warband was massacred in a ruthlessly bloody melee. Any Goatmen that attempted to flee were mowed down by an unrelenting hail of missiles.

All told, the battle lasted less than a couple of minutes.

While many of the soldiers had expended great amounts of mana, they had also probably gained more by levelling up than they had lost.

The Kobolds had done their part and done it well, but they wore expressions of awe and deep respect as they considered the Humans in their midst. The mixed showcasing of Classes had apparently impressed them a great deal, and they weren’t the only ones.

The sheer one-sided brutality of the battle had been beyond my wildest expectations. While I had not expected to lose, I had expected the battle to drag out as the Goatmen’s sheer numbers were brought to bear. Furthermore, I hadn’t anticipated the luxury of simply watching from behind the battle.

The Major wasted no time in ordering the wagons forward and issuing work details for harvesting mana stones and disposing of the corpses. Ushu happily volunteered himself for both duties and set to gorging on the bodies of the dead Goatmen. The Kobolds volunteered as well, proving remarkably adept at retrieving the manastones while leaving the corpses for the Asrusian work details to haul away.

Wandering amidst the field of carnage, I found Grolf busily harvesting manastones as part of a small team. The Sergeant with the drum harness was shadowing Grolf and explaining how the redemption points worked and how manastones could be donated for Exp. Which in turn led to a discussion regarding the superiority of the Evolution Elixirs to the raw manastones.

To prove his point, the Sergeant gave Grolf an Evolution Elixir purchased from his own contribution points.

Heeding the Sergeant’s warnings, Grolf took small sips of the Elixir and made sure to take some time in between.

Within less than a minute, Grolf grew a full inch in height, sparking immediate excitement from the other Kobolds in his immediate vicinity.

Before passing out of earshot, I overheard the Sergeant detailing the finer points of how Evolution progression worked, the literacy lessons the Asrusian army would be providing them in the coming weeks.

I made a mental note to make a point of sitting in on any lessons that would help me with learning to read the local language. It was getting frustrating relying on other people to read official reports and notices for me.

Proceeding to the tower at the centre of the incomplete defences, I had to step aside rather hurriedly when Dhizi leapt down from the second-story battlements and eagerly rushed toward the field of corpses.

The large pair of doors on the front of the tower were scaled to accommodate my size. However, as best as I could tell from the outside, there would only be a foot or so in headroom once I made my way inside. The doors themselves were made of solid stone and bore all manner of light scratches from where the Goatmen had attempted to force their way inside.

With no handles on the outside, I briefly considered climbing the wall of the tower to the battlements of the second floor. The embrasures would have made the effort somewhat easier, but I decided against it after a large section of the ground a short distance from the tower suddenly collapsed.

A few moments later, Cooper began slowly making her way out of the hole, climbing a ramp I hadn’t noticed originally.

Glancing back toward the tower, I realised that Cooper would not have fit inside it, let alone been able to use the doors. “The fortress is below us,” I realised.

“Pardon, Majesty?” Nila asked politely while walking alongside Cooper.

“Nothing,” I shook my head and snorted derisively, “Just, for some reason, I thought Cooper would be in the tower,” I explained with another shake of my head.

Nila briefly looked over at the tower and then made a visible effort to control her expression.

“Am I to assume that the barracks, supply stations and other spaces are all down below?” I asked with a slight grin.

Nila nodded and was making an effort not to smile, “Aye, Majesty.”

“Where is the Pact Binder?” I asked, taking on a more serious tone, “With all the Goatmen from the immediate area already dead, and Guzzards soon to begin swarming the carcasses, the Conquest needs to be initiated before the monsters can reset. Which means we need the walls sealed up.”

Nila nodded and motioned back toward the hole, “Engineer Visili is on his way out now.”

“Visili?”I frowned slightly as I tried to place the name.

“He is one of the Werrian prisoners that agreed to join the citizenship program,” Nila explained as a thin wiry man with a pointed beard climbed up the ramp and out of the hole.

Visili’s dark eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of me, and his lips pressed into a pale thin line, disappearing beneath his thick black and grey beard. Visili bowed stiffly, “Majesty,” he stated hoarsely in a vaguely Slavic accent I otherwise couldn’t place.

“Engineer Visili,” I replied evenly, “Do you believe you have enough mana for Cin to complete the walls before midnight?”

Visili stared up at me, doing his best to look me in the eye, “Yes,” he replied bluntly.

“Then I won’t keep you,” I stepped aside and motioned for him to continue on his way.

Visili nodded curtly and began making his way over toward the nearest section of incomplete wall. After inspecting the wall for a few moments, a small clay bottle appeared in his hand. Uncorking the bottle with his teeth, he downed the contents in one long pull. The bottle then disappeared into thin air, donated as part of a recycling initiative to lessen the strain on the limited supply of bottles.

Reaching into his pocket, Visili removed a small fisful of manastones which also disappeared very abruptly. However, the familiar Orc-like form of Cin appeared beside the wall only a fraction of a second later.

I gave Cin a friendly wave before leaving her to her work.

Cin smiled back and seemed glad for the attention, however brief it had been. As her attention returned to the walls, Cin began gathering large amounts of mana. At first, nothing seemed to happen. However, a few seconds later, thick sheets of stone began erupting out of the ground and crudely blocking the gaps between the incomplete walls.

With all the openings now closed, Cin took a few moments to gather still more mana before actively reshaping and moulding the sheets of stone. After ten minutes of continuous work, Cin had managed to join the new stone into the existing segments of the wall and replicate the battlements. After another three minutes, she added four separate sets of stairs. With one final effort, Cin transformed an entire thirty-foot section of wall into a pair of stone doors to serve as the gate. Having likely expended the last of her borrowed mana, Cin disappeared.

Visili stared at the wall for a while longer before slowly making his way back toward the ramp heading underground.

Cooper was growing restless, so Nila excused herself and led the excited Drake out through the new gate.

With the wall now completed, soldiers were hurriedly deploying lanterns at fixed intervals atop the walls and the tower.

Descending the ramp, I found more lanterns illuminating a large winding passage that seemed to loop around and back toward the tower.

Following the passage, I soon found myself in a colossal stone cavern. Huge pillars of dense stone supported the ceiling with thick interconnected arches.

The far side of the cavern had another ramp that curved upward and presumably into the bottommost floor of the tower.

A large simple fountain was set into the wall to my right and drained its overflow into a deeply recessed channel that ran the length of the cavern before disappearing through a long horizontal hole in the cavern wall. Covered by a stone grate, I was inclined to believe that it had to serve as a sort of primitive sewage and drainage system for the cavern.

A stone monolith bearing the sigil of Sanctuary stood in the centre of the cavern. No doubt intended to serve as the Totem for the Conquest, I was thoroughly impressed by the implied difficulty any monsters would have in attempting to destroy it. Assuming the tower, monolith and cavern became staples of our strategy going forward, Conquests would be that much easier and considerably less risky.

The train of wagons soon began entering the cavern and disgorging a portion of their contents. The tents would not be needed for shelter, but the large panels of canvas would provide certain degrees of privacy and allow the soldiers to divide up sleeping spaces more readily.

I was still waiting for the disposal and harvesting efforts to be completed topside, so I passed the time by watching the engineers and soldiers making camp in the cavern.

With food playing an important role in our overall strategy, it wasn’t surprising at all when the cooks began setting out large makeshift tables in a designated mess area. They wasted no time in starting cooking fires in special alcoves along the wall and preparing more readily digestible food than the dried rations.

Even if the majority of the soldiers wouldn’t have a chance to eat the food while it was hot, the fresh ingredients alone would make the meals many times better than the standard rations.

As something of an added luxury, the fountain would allow soldiers to bathe between shifts if they so desired. Small bricks of ash soap had been provided to help maintain basic hygiene and stem the potential spread of any diseases.

A team of ten Surgeons and twenty supporting staff from amongst the regular soldiers serving as orderlies were busily walling off a sizable area closest to the ramp leading outside. Taking the advice I had given Nadine during the Raid in the Hurst Labyrinth, the Surgeons and Orderlies were setting out tables rather than beds in their designated treatment areas, and long benches instead of individual chairs in their receiving area.

The cots they did set out were elevated on top of crates, no doubt to allow the Surgeons easier means of observing their patients. If it was the case, I had to agree that it was a good idea.

As the minutes passed by, more soldiers began passing through the cavern. Some of the soldiers lingered just long enough to claim a sleeping space before going back outside, while others moved along to take up positions in the tower.

The first Kobolds to descend the ramp stared at the cavern in stunned silence for a couple of minutes before slowly working up the nerve to explore.

While exploring, the Kobolds were given ropes and sheets of canvas by the Asrusian soldiers so they could make their own living spaces.

Watching the Kobolds work, I didn't quite understand what they were doing until they had just about finished.

The Asrusians were using short lengths of rope to tie the corners of the canvas to the pillars to form walls of canvas.

The kobolds started by tying long lengths of rope between pillars, then hanging canvas over the ropes. Only, instead of leaving it like that, the Kobolds then pulled the canvas over another length of rope on the other side, forming a cloth tunnel. The loose corners at the bottom were tied off to the pillars, and the entrance was narrowed by borrowing a few crates. The cloth tunnel expanded further as more Kobolds entered the cavern to claim their sleeping spaces.

By the time the Kobolds were finished, I was just about convinced that they had managed to build their own blanket fort. Things only grew more interesting when an enterprising Kobold raised one of the internal sections to create a sort of watchtower that allowed him to look out over the wider cavern around them.

“Majesty,” Lieutenant Vaile had approached while I was distracted and seemed to be doing her best to remain patient.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” I replied with mounting excitement.

Lieutenant Vale’s attention flicked toward the monolith for a split second before returning toward me again, “The Major has decided that sufficient preparations have been made to fortify our position. The Conquest is to begin at your discretion, Majesty.”

I nodded and placed one hand on the Monolith, “Very well. Let us begin.”

Initiating the Conquest came as easily as breathing.

My increasing familiarity with the Labyrinths’ controls had allowed many of the more irritating aspects to be done away with on a conditional basis. All Status Alerts were automatically blocked from impeding my vision unless they met predetermined criteria, and the small timer only appeared in my upper peripheral vision as I required it.

“Majesty!” Lieutenant Vaile snapped a crisp salute and went running to report to the Major.

In addition to the support staff, a small reserve of soldiers were left behind to guard the monolith now turned Totem.

Very much aware that my presence would be needed to impose a certain degree of control over Ushu, I slowly began making my way out of the tunnel and back up the ramp again.

As I had expected, Guzzards were already in the process of swarming our position. Initially drawn by the corpses, they were now Enslaved by the will of the Labyrinth to destroy the Totem or die trying.

Unlike the previous Conquest, but similar to the battle from an hour prior, the soldiers employed their Class Abilities with a near reckless abandon. Only this time, it was the ranged Classes turn to stand in the limelight.

A smaller male soldier standing on the southern wall broke into a blur of frenzied motion as a flock of Guzzards dove over his position and headed for the tunnel. Ten hatchets flew out of his hands one after another, hacking, cracking and biting into the Guzzards. Shearing off wings, cleaving into their bloated bellies, and severing talons.

Clearly abusing the ability to requisition equipment from the repeatable quest to facilitate accessing so many hatchets in so little time, I was still in awe of his skill. Of all the hatchets he had thrown, only one had missed its mark entirely.

A lone bowman patrolling the open ground near the tunnel snapped quick shots off into the sky every few seconds. Despite possessing a quiver full of arrows, the archer was utilising the same trick as the hatchet thrower, simply materialising the next arrow into her hand as she had need of it.

In stark contrast, a nearby soldier with a crossbow was far more reserved, taking his time to choose a target and line up his shots before firing. Initially, his attacks seemed no more effective than the archer’s had been, and took considerably longer breaks in between. However, the chaos generated by the projectiles swarming through the late evening sky had caused me to overlook something important.

Each Guzzard struck by the crossbowman would fall out of the sky no less than ten seconds later, regardless of injuries inflicted before or after the crossbow bolt. The crossbowman himself seemed quite aware of this fact and gave his targets no further attention after landing a successful hit.

The Kobold slingers were putting up a good showing, and even the soldiers who didn’t specialise in ranged combat were doing their best to thin the Guzzard’s numbers to prevent them from forming a proper swarm.

Bannermen stood on the highest battlements of the tower and waved their banners while shouting encouragement to the soldiers below. The Sergeant’s drum rumbled like thunder as he hammered away on the roof of the tower.

The intermittent bright golden flashes as the soldiers levelled up was somewhat dangerous, temporarily blinding me whenever I caught the flash directly.

Blinded by what felt like the thirtieth flash in less than three minutes, I snarled bitterly and had to restrain myself to avoid cursing aloud. The golden flash seemed designed to give away the position of anyone with a Class. Irritated, I halfheartedly attempted to disable the feature outright.

Having expected no reaction whatsoever, it took me a moment to realise that two Status Alerts were waiting for my attention.

[ Visual notifications of {Personal} {Class Progression} has been {Disabled} ]

[ Visual notifications of {Subordinates} {Class Progression} has been {Disabled} ]

“Seriously...” I muttered incredulously, “Just like that?...”

A dead Guzzard crashed into the ground a short distance in front of me, rupturing on impact and spilling its foul guts across the stones.

Taking it as a reminder to keep my wits about myself, I proceeded towards the wall and Ushu’s general location. Climbing onto the wall, much to the surprise of the soldiers in the immediate vicinity, I spotted Ushu rather quickly.

Ushu was still gorging himself on the remaining Goatmen corpses a comparatively short distance from the wall. Cooper and Dhizi were in his general vicinity as well, which meant Nila and Clarice had to be nearby too.

Unhappy with the risk they were taking, Iput my thumb and forefinger in my mouth and belted out as loud a whistle as I could manage to try and get Ushu’s attention.

It worked a little too well and brought the ongoing battle to an abrupt momentary halt. Even the Sergeant’s drumming missed a beat, amplifying the silence.

Thankfully, Ushu took notice.

Ignoring the stares from the soldiers, I waved at Ushu and pointed back toward the tower. I knew he was smart enough to understand the gesture, so I refused to move from my place on the wall until he moved inside of the walls.

For half a minute or so, Ushu just stared back at me. However, as Dhizi and Cooper, led by Clarice and Nila, began returning to the fortress, Ushu reluctantly followed after them.

“You will have another chance to eat later,” I consoled Ushu, earning a minor unfurling of his wings in return that I interpreted as somewhat equivalent to a shrug.

Clarice sent Dhizi down the ramp along with Nila and Cooper but opted to stay above ground, sheltering beneath the battlements of the tower.

Hopping down off the wall, I made my way over to Clarice to make sure everything was alright. As I drew closer, I found that while Clarice was more than a little distracted, she seemed more or less fine.

“Something you want?” Clarice asked distractedly.

“Just checking on you,” I admitted, watching another Guzzard plummet out of the sky and dash itself against the wall.

“Hrm? Why?” Clarice asked curiously, looking up at me with an expression of mild surprise.

I shrugged, “You seemed a little out of it, you know? I just wanted to make sure you were alright. This is technically a warzone,” I motioned to the Guzzards being shot out of the sky.

Clarice glanced toward the sky and frowned, “Just thinking is all.”

“About what?” I pressed.

Clarice sighed and shifted her attention back toward me again, “It’s just, at the current rate you are going. Clearing this Labyrinth I mean. We might just reach the end of it in less than a couple of years.”

“And?” I didn’t really see the problem, “Isn’t that what you guys wanted? To see things no one else has seen before?”

Clarice gave me a weird look, “No, not really. I wanted to get strong enough so I could change some things. Make things better for people who grew up like I did, who didn’t just have the good things in life handed to them. You know?”

“I understand the sentiment,” I agreed, “So what’s changed? Do you think you’re strong enough to change things for the better?”

“Pfft no!” Clarice snorted in a combination of self-derision and condescension, “I was just trying to think about how strong I would have to actually become. It’s not just some dream anymore, it’s real. You are making it real, Tim, and it’s kind of scaring the shit out of me.”

I could appreciate the sentiment.

It was easy enough to promise yourself you would do something that otherwise required impossible intervention or means outside of your abilities. Because, if you failed, it wouldn’t be your fault. However, when you possess the means and opportunity, the blame would fall squarely at your own feet for not putting in enough effort or making poor decisions.

“Welcome to my life,” I grunted with a smirk.

“It fucking sucks man,” Clarice grinned in spite of her sour tone, “Hey Tim? Did you really disable the flash from levelling up?”

I nodded and sighed, “I did, and I wish I had realised I could have done it sooner. These Conquests would have gone much smoother if I had.”

“But the flash was half the fun of the damn thing,” Clarice complained but was still smiling.

“Just call it out then, like you did in Hurst?” I suggested.

Clarice opened her mouth as if to respond, closed it, considered my recommendation and then grinned, “You might have something there,” she agreed eagerly.

“It would be in poor taste though, considering I am feeding you Exp directly,” I cautioned.

“Hehe...” Clarice’s grin faded as she realised I was serious, “Aw come on!”

“You can brag, or you can have the free Exp. Not both,” I confirmed indifferently.

“Gah!” Clarice kicked her heel at the wall of the tower in irritation, “Fine, whatever...” She dejectedly slouched off toward the ramp and headed down into the tunnel.

Not wanting to waste my time doing nothing, I recalled the artefact bow from Gregory and summoned a brace of magical arrows.

With both the bow and arrows requiring mana to resize, I patiently channelled mana into each item while choosing to search for a firing position where a misfire would be less likely to harm anyone.

With no such place immediately available, I climbed onto the wall, summoned a barrel to hold the arrows, and waited for a Carnifex or Goatman to present themself. I had briefly considered firing at the Guzzards, but I was too worried about accidentally whiffing an arrow straight into the air and hitting a soldier or Kobold when it returned to the ground.

“I would appreciate any advice you can give me,” I told the archer on the wall beside me, “I haven’t had much practice, and I wasn’t a very good shot to begin with.”

The soldier looked up at me in surprise, “Erm, ah, of course, yer Majesty. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out.” He stared at the six foot long arrows in the barrel for a moment and then looked at the regular sized arrows clutched in his fist before clenching his jaw and scanning the nearby hills for targets.

I couldn’t blame him. The arrows I was going to be firing were closer to spears than traditional arrows. However, testing the draw strength on the bow confirmed that it should be able to handle the arrows’ weight.

“Majesty, a furry bugger coming in fast!” The soldier, Burt, called out, pointing to a nearby hill.

Sure enough, a Goatman had just crested the hilltop and was baying a warcry as he charged toward the ravine at the bottom of the hill.

“If’n yer Majesty aims ahead, ye should catch’im afore he can dodge!” Burt instructed supportively.

I nodded and nocked my first arrow. Drawing back the bowstring in one smooth motion, just as Gregory had shown me, I was about to loose the arrow, but hesitated.

“A little lower Majesty,” Burt used his free hand to pull down the lower arm of my bow to adjust my aim, “Now!”

I released the arrow and nearly dropped the bow as I felt the force surge through the arms of the bow.

The Goatman was ripped off his feet and impaled against the hillside as my arrow drove though his gut, burying itself to a handspan or so before the fletching.

“Nice shot Majesty!” Burt cheered excitedly, pumping his fist animatedly.

Reviewing Burt’s Status to determine his Class, I wasn’t surprised to learn he was in fact not ‘just’ an Archer, he was a Marksman.

“Burt, I want you to teach me properly,” I told him, “And I am going to reward you for it properly.” I whipped together a training quest and issued it before Burt even had the chance to react.

Burt’s eyes widened in surprise, “I uh, um, uh...”

Despite his initial confusion, Burt spent the next hour doing his best to cover basic theory while coaching me on proper form. Shortly after the reset, his advice became largely redundant.

Goatmen and Carnifexes had begun rushing across the surrounding hillsides in sufficient numbers that made it difficult to miss so long as I waited until they began making their final approach toward the wall.

All the same, Burt continued calling out advice while picking off targets of his own.

Ushu had left the cavern and was actively hunting prey on the opposite side of the fortress alongside Cooper and Dhizi. With Clarice, Nila and her team keeping an eye on him, I tried to maintain my concentration and follow Burt’s advice.

Keeping my breathing steady, I selected a target, lined up my shot, and fired.

I missed my intended target, but two Goatmen were critically injured as collateral damage as the arrow tore through the abdomen of one Goatman and into the leg of another.

Drawing and firing again, I missed my target again but caught a Carnifex to its right through its neck.

I sighed, took several breaths and tried again, and again, and again.

Running out of arrows, I took a momentary break to summon more arrows, slowly resize them with mana, and drink a mana potion.

Watching Burt while I replenished my mana, I felt embarrassed by the monumental divide in our skill levels and ability.

Each shot Burt took struck a critical location on his target without fail. While not universally lethal, the instances of his targets being able to continue toward our defences after being shot were few and far between. Combined with the fact that Burst was firing an arrow a second without breaking a visible sweat, it only served to make my pisspoor performance all the more obvious.

“You are improving, Majesty,” Burt insisted encouragingly, dropping four Goatman in rapid succession as they crested a distant hill.

I decided to just not respectfully continue preparing my next batch of arrows.

Burt wasn’t wrong. I had noticed a slight improvement in my accuracy since I had first started. However, there was still that part of me that expected unrealistic progress and results, and it was souring my mood by focusing on my perceived failures.

Once the brace of arrows were adequately resized, I carefully selected my next target and tried again.

I continued practising through the night and well into the morning. Targets had become rarer, making my missed shots all the more obvious. However, I had managed two grazing strikes against the same Carnifex. I also landed a solid shot to a Goatman’s chest a few minutes later. Without other targets in the immediate area at the time, it made it clear that they had in fact been my intended targets.

It wasn’t a big deal for the soldiers who hit as often as not, but it was a marked improvement over my initial starting point.

I had come to realise that actively thinking about the hows of shooting with the bow was part of my problem. I was literally overthinking things and getting in my own way. Selecting a target was fine, but lining up the shot had far more to do with letting your body and subconscious do the heavy lifting. When a shot was lined up correctly, you would just ‘know’. It would feel like everything was in the right place.

Burt’s advice was incredibly valuable, but ultimately the majority of the improvements came from developing a proper feel for what I was doing, trusting in those instincts, and, of course, developing the muscle memory to feed into those instincts.

Spotting another Carnifex charging into the ravine, I took a steadying breath, drew an arrow from the bucket, nocked it, drew back the bowstring and as I exhaled I released the arrow.

Several moments passed before I realised what I had done.

“Ye did it Majesty!’ Burt cheered excitedly, slapping at my arm and pointing excitedly to the Carnifex which was crumpled at a weird angle.

The arrow, my arrow, had punctured its skull and staked the Beast’s head into the ground, causing its body to bizarrely twist and spin as its neck was snapped by the Carnifex’s existing momentum, throwing its body forward and onto the ground before coming to a halt.

A solitary Status Alert had also appeared in my lower periphery.

[You have qualified to unlock the {Archer} Basic Class.]

I stared blankly at it for a handful of seconds before realising what it said.

“Huh...” I muttered in surprise, “I wouldn’t have thought Archer would be a Class I could Unlock...”

“Didn’t doubt for a moment, Majesty,” Burt declared happily, “S’all about feelin’ it out. Long distance can be right tricky, but that’s as much practice and experience as anything.”

I slowly nodded in understanding, “I think I get it now,” I agreed.

“Bein’ able to keep sendin’ arrows out like that, I knew you could do it, Majesty,” Burt repeated happily, “I felt it myself. Might be able to beat my Da’ when my service is up. Bet he never got to shoot a thousan’ arrows in a single night!”

Burt had a serious point. Iron Gut, and the Kobold’s Dogged Determination created a vicious feedback loop that could be abused so long as there was enough food. Muscle memory came down to repetition, and that would normally have limits based on fatigue. But stalling fatigue with Dogged Determination at the expense of HP allowed for more practice, and HP could be recovered with food.

My Agility stat hadn’t changed at all, but that wasn’t all that surprising. I had come to realise that Agility didn’t reflect hand-eye coordination at all. It was actually a representation of how flexible and manoeuvrable you were. This explained why the majority of the Archer Class Abilities benefitted from Strength. Only its defensive Abilities benefitted from Agility.

“Thank you for your assistance Burt,” I gently clapped him on the shoulder, “I couldn’t have made such progress without your assistance.”

Burt blushed and self-consciously kicked at the ground, “Gosh, Majesty, ain’t nothin’, really.”

“All the same, I’ll be sure to commend your actions to your superiors,” I insisted. It was just about the least I could do beyond the Exp awarded by the Quest.

With a certain degree of visible reluctance, Burt held his tongue.

I hopped down from the wall and walked past the tower so I could check on Ushu and the others.

It came as little surprise that the small pack of murderous reptiles were thoroughly enjoying themselves and appeared to be in peak condition.

Alternating between gorging themselves, prowling the hillsides, and actively hunting down prey, the three reptiles seemed well enough entertained that I felt I could leave them be for a while longer.

With the worst of the danger now far behind us, most of the defenders were relieved by the reserves and allowed to recuperate in the cavern or otherwise entertain themselves. Many had opted for training with the Kobold Auxiliaries, and I was going to join them.

Finding Grolf was easy enough, and convincing his fellow commanders to join us to unlock the Beast Trainer Class was only slightly more difficult. What I hadn’t anticipated, was for a whole pack of Kobolds to volunteer as well. Given Grolf’s increase in status since taming the Carnifex, I realised that it probably should have been expected.

After all, who didn’t like racing around on giant murderous Beasts?

*****

Captain Dario fought back the urge to panic as another small horde of shambling corpses lurched out of the surrounding alleyways and toward himself and his men.

“Spears up front!” Captain Dario barked and waved his remaining Spearmen forward, “Archers! Headshots only!”

Spearman rushed forward to form a defensive line two ranks deep, supported by Swordsmen and with Archers in the middle.

“Sir, we are running short on ammunition,” Lieutenant Weise whispered, “Given the severity of the threat, we should strongly consider falling back to a more defensible position.”

“Agreed,” Lieutenant Georgio chimed in quietly, earning nods from the other officers.

“We can’t,” Captain Dario muttered, “We will continue pushing forward. The Labyrinth must be contained.” Under other circumstances, he would have agreed with his junior officers, but Captain Dario knew something they did not. Of the three companies sent into the city of Mournbrent to lock down the Labyrinth, theirs was the last still standing.

The undead threat had proved more dangerous than initially reported. Worse still, the undead had Conversion archetypes in their midst, turning every fallen soldier into another undead monster to replenish their ranks.

Already reduced to half strength, Captain Dario knew the only chance at survival the remaining soldiers in his company had, was to collapse the Guild office to stem the tide of undead. They were already too deep in the city to retreat, and too far to expect a relief force to reach them in time. But if the Labyrinth was sealed, even temporarily, then Captain Dario could lead his men to a more defensible location and wait for reinforcements.

“We continue pushing to the Labyrinth,” Captain Dario stated adamantly, “Our only chance is to seal the portal and bunker down in one of the estates in the central district.” He did his best to project a sense of confidence, but it was undermined by one of his soldiers being dragged out of formation and torn to pieces by the undead horde.

Despite the fatality, the remaining soldiers held firm and pushed the undead back. Unfortunately, they weren’t fast enough to save their comrade.

Another soldier fell on the right flank as a Stealth archetype undead leapt down from a nearby rooftop and tore the poor soldier’s throat out before he had time to scream.

Sergeant Mayar stunned the creature by smashing its head with his shield, and three of their soldiers hacked it to pieces with their swords.

Another Stealth archetype attempted to repeat the success of the first but was impaled by chance by an unwitting Spearman and then hewn apart by two nearby Swordsmen.

“Tighten the ranks!” Captain Dario barked, “Prepare to advance! We are pushing for the Labyrinth!”

To their credit, his men did as they were told.

With the small clusters of slow-moving undead still pressing in from all directions, what remained of the company began pushing hard down the main road.

The undead continued appearing in ever greater numbers, slowing the progress of the company until it was little more than a crawl.

With the undead pressing in from all sides, Captain Dario could feel the panic beginning to take hold of his men. “Keep fighting! Don’t let up! We will get through this!” He barked adamantly, injecting as much confidence as he was able.

“Sir!” Lieutenant Weise pulled back from the rearguard and pointed down the road behind them, “Somethings coming up on our rear!”

Captain Dario looked toward the rear of their formation.

Something was indeed coming up on their rear.

“Sergeant Humphry! Report!” Captain Dario ordered.

Sergeant Humphry disengaged from the fighting at the rear and looked back toward Captain Dario with an expression of profound surprise, “There’s a small group of survivors!” Sergeant Humphry exclaimed, “They are headed in our direction!”

“What?...” Captain Dario’s mind stalled for a moment as he attempted to rationalise what he was being told, “Survivors?”

“Sir! They are destroying the undead!...” Sergeant Humphry’s tone made it clear that he didn’t quite believe what he was saying.

However, before Captain Dario could ask the Sergeant to repeat himself, an unfamiliar voice cut him off.

“AND IN THE LADY’S GRACE! ALL THE UNLIVING WILL BURN!” A man cried from beyond the rear guard in a thick Asrusian accent, “FOR THEY ARE UNCLEAN! UNNATURAL! ABOMINATIONS! AMEN!!!”

“AMEN!!!” came a small but fanatical chorus of replies from men and women alike, all with Asrusian accents.

The smell of burning flesh was carried by the wind and bright flashes of shimmering orange light splashed across the buildings on either side of the street and past the legs of the soldiers.

Within moments, the shambling undead swarming against the rearguard were cut down from behind as twenty men and women in copper plate armour, carrying wide-bladed two-handed swords, appeared behind them.

“PURGE THE UNCLEAN!” One of the armoured figures cried, shoving his way through the ranks of the rear guard and striding towards the front, completely ignoring Captain Dario. He thrust his left hand forward, palm flat and facing outward, “PURGE THE ABOMINATION!”

The undead pressing against the frontline caught fire, burning with bright orange flames before turning to ash.

“FOR THE LADY HAS DECREED OUR CAUSE IS JUST!” The armoured figure continued through the frontline, now holding his sword at the ready in both hands.

The other armoured figures were now striding freely through Captain Dario’s formation and approaching the front.

“AMEN!!!” The lead figure roared and launched himself headlong into the waiting horde without fear or hesitation. Undead struck by his blade turned to ash and those who attempted to lay hands on him burned as they laid hands on his armour.

As the other armoured figures passed him by, Captain Dario was surprised when one of them remained behind.

“You are Confederate soldiers,” the man asked bluntly.

Even though it was not a question, Captain Dario found himself nodding in confirmation, too overwhelmed by the sudden change in events to fully realise what he was doing.

“You need not fear,” the man stated in a tone one would use when trying to reassure a small child, “The Lady offers shelter for all living souls from the predation of the unclean. Come, we will lead the way.” Without waiting for Captain Dario to reply, the man strode forward to rejoin his companions in their one sided butchering of the undead.

“Sir?” Lieutenant Georgio asked uncertainly while glancing back toward the opposite end of the street and the undead that were slowly regrouping behind them.

“Follow the fanatics!” Captain Dario ordered, unwilling to pass up the opportunity for a reprieve and steady progress toward the Labyrinth.

Clearly in possession of powerful magic items, the Asrusian fanatics showed no fear whatsoever in bodily charging into the ranks of the undead, even allowing themselves to become separated from one another and surrounded.

Following in their wake, Captain Dario’s company could do little but watch as the fanatics scythed through the undead like wheat.

“Sir, can we trust them?” Lieutenant Weise asked quietly, although Captain Dario was quite certain he needn't have bothered. The fanatics were so loud and self absorbed in their prosecution of the undead that they wouldn’t be able to hear anything.

Captain Dario worked his jaw uncomfortably, “We don’t have much of a choice,” he replied, “Besides, if we can secure their assistance in sealing the Labyrinth, the chances of all of us all living long enough to return home are that much higher.”

Lieutenant Weise was about to say something else but paused as the distant sounds of battle echoed from down the road ahead of them.

As the fanatics carved through another wave of undead it revealed the open expanse of a wartorn plaza.

“WITNESS!!!” A distant woman’s voice roared, drawing Captain Dario’s attention to two dozen more fanatics violently carving their way through the plaza in small groups similar to the one escorting them now.

The fanatic who had addressed Captain Dario earlier casually retreated from the fighting and approached him directly, “You may seek shelter in the grand cathedral,” without explaining himself further or waiting for a response, the fanatic turned away and headed back toward the fighting.

Staring toward the building the fanatic had indicated, Captain Dario was shocked to see that there were no undead within a dozen feet of its gated surroundings. “Fuck me...” Captain Dario cursed and couldn’t help but smile, “They have consecrated ground!”

Some of his men looked confused by the outburst, but it didn’t take long for those in the know to explain things for them.

“Push on to the grand cathedral!” Captain Dario ordered giddily, barely able to contain himself and restrict his movement to a brisk trot. Ignoring the fanatics fighting in the plaza, he led his men straight toward the grand cathedral.

Despite the damaged and rundown appearance of the structure, Captain Dario felt the effects of the consecrated ground the moment he came within a dozen feet of the outer gate. However, with the immediate threat of the undead now put on hold, Captain Dario was forced to consider how he should proceed with dealing with the fanatics.

As clearly deranged as the fanatics were, it was equally clear that their god was on their side. Which raised a profoundly uncomfortable question.

How did they lose the city in the first place?