Before moving on to the main story. Let's give a big round of applause to welcome the one and only PervySageChuck, who's been a tremendous help in improving the writing of Overlord Ascendants.
Writer: Henet
Editor: PervySageChuck
Overlord Ascendants Arc 1 Second Coming
Overlord Book 1, Chapter 7: Prelude to Order.
Part 1
Since Arilde’s visit, three days had gone by. To
Hanna, the three days were uneventful. She stopped banging on the cell door
anymore or shouting out for her friends. Every day since then, she had been
sitting on her bed, using those waking moments to deliberate on the decision
she had to make.
“Is this the extent of your resolve…?” Arilde’s
words to her kept reverberating in her head.
“Looks like there is no other way, is there?
Hanna Nobel Adlia, it is not like he is asking for my life. But, if he seeks to
abuse the power I hold………No, I’ll end my own life if that is what it takes to
stop myself falling into the wrong hands.”
There, Hanna’s expression changed. It was not
the face of someone agonizing over her future. But someone determined on the
decision she had to make.
For Prim. For my family.
Knock knock.
Hearing that, Hanna instantly knew that it was
another unscheduled visit.
For the second time, Serene entered her cell.
“Pardon me, Hanna-sama. But your presence is
requested by the master of the house.”
“I understand. Please tell him that I shall
consent to his request.”
“Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any
request, please do not hesitate to ask.” Serene bowed. She then promptly
snapped her fingers. Two Ushan maids entered the cell.
“Bring our guest to the bathroom.” Serene
instructed the maids.
“As ordered, Serene-sama.” The two maids
answered in unison.
Hanna thoroughly enjoyed her bath. In the cell,
she was provided with a tub of soapy water and a cloth to wash herself. The hot
water helped her to relax and clear her head. She wished she could immerse
herself longer. But the appearance of Serene holding a simple, yet
well-designed lilac colored dress, marked the end of her bath.
Hanna now felt refreshed while walking through
the familiar corridors of the mansion once again, under the escort of Serene.
She was brought before a set of familiar oaken doors, the ones leading into the
guest hall. The butler Sigmund, standing by the side of the door, opened it and
she was quietly ushered inside.
Within, she noticed two rows of tables were
arrayed against each other. Sitting on one side, was Azrael, his sister, Anael,
and also Arilde. Facing them were three people. Hanna recognized all three of
them, Percy, General Curvier and also one of Ambat’s high administrators. Hilda
was standing behind Percy along with twenty of Percy’s personal guards.
Hanna noticed Azrael was talking as he skimmed
over a piece of scroll.
“These are some rather extraordinary terms
requested by the Empire, extradition of Princess Hanna Nobel Adlia, delivery of
compensation over the Death Wyrm rampage 30 years ago, ceding of territories
within the Forbidden Continent to the Empire and the list of demands does not
end here. Isn’t the Empire asking too much over a matter as simple as border security?”
“My regrets over such matters, Azrael-sama.
Sadly, I do not have the power to decide over the terms of the Empire. Perhaps,
I could advise my father over the details of some of the terms. ”
After hearing that, Hanna understood one thing.
The Empire had no reason to enter into negotiations on equal terms. Moreover,
they sought to use these outrageous demands to start a war. Firstly, they
demanded this country located within the Forbidden Continent to pay damages
over the destruction caused by the Death Wyrm. Citizens of the east, especially
the direct victims would agree that Azrael should bear responsibility over a
monster originating from his homeland. If Azrael chose to pay, it meant that
his country does not have the military strength to match up to the Empire and
attempted to prevent war by paying a tribute to the Empire. The Empire would
consume Azrael’s land bit by bit. But if Azrael did not agree to pay for the
damages, the Empire would deem it a casus belli for the Empire’s
military to invade under the pretext of seeking revenge on Azrael, blaming him
as the mastermind behind the Death Wyrm’s attack.
“I would appreciate that, Prince Percy. But this
matter of handing over my guests, whom received protection while staying under
my roof. I will not back down on this matter.” Azrael replied good naturedly.
“Sadly, Azrael-sama. We have come to an impasse
on this matter. Taking Princess Hanna Nobel Adlia would be a big step in ending
the civil conflict that lasted for a decade in my country. We greatly desired
her cooperation. How about this? Why don’t we let her decide for herself?”
Percy suggested as he focused his gaze at Hanna.
“That’s an excellent suggestion.” Azrael
answered happily.
“My gratitude for accepting my humble
suggestion.”
Percy’s expression turned shrewd. He took out
something from his pocket and placed it on the table, in direct view of Hanna.
It was a small stuffed doll.
Hanna eyes dilated from the sight of it.
Suddenly, she started to pounce at him, as if trying to place both her hands
around his neck and squeeze the life out of him. She would have done so if not
for the quick action of Serene, who grabbed Hanna by the chest.
“Get off me! Let me go! You bastard, you damn
low-life! What have you done to Prim?”
“Well, ‘I’ have not done anything to her yet.
But I believe it would be a matter of time before she would be married off to
the King of Grimvale. He had long since developed a soft spot for her. I pray
that she will have a long and joyful marriage with such a wonderful man.”
Percy smirked as he saw Hanna’s pale looking
face. Hanna collapsed sitting on the floor. She let out a cry of utter despair,
bloodying her own fist as she hit the floor.
“My sister, my dear little sister. Why does fate
have to so cruel?” Hanna lamented as tears flowed from her eyes. Her face
looked saddened at her beloved younger sister’s potentially cruel fate as the
King of Grimvale’s new toy.
“Of course, Princess Hanna. If you are willing
to serve me instead. I can promise a better outcome for your sister.” Percy
offered with an expression of feigned kindness as he reached out his hands.
Hanna’s eyes dilated. Her pupils only showed the
lifeless expression of someone who had ran out of options and lost all hope.
She feebly reached her hands, cursing the cruel hand she was dealt.
Before her hands reached Percy’s, somebody else
grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her up. She was staring into the face of
Azrael.
“I think it is too early to give up hope,
princess. You still have the power to change things here.” Azrael whispered to
her.
Some semblance of hope returned to Hanna’s eyes.
Percy was clicked his tongue quietly in
annoyance for the disruption.
“I can guarantee the safety of your sister. But,
it comes with a price. Do you have the resolve to meet with my demands?”
Azrael took out a scroll from empty space and
unfurled it in front of her.
“This is a magical contract that I have
pre-prepared. On it, it has been written that I shall fulfill three of your
wishes if you obey three of my requests. Failure to comply by either party will
result in death.” Azrael explained as he placed the contract in front of Hanna.
From the corner of her eyes, Hanna saw the
figure of Arilde observing from the sides. She nodded.
“Princess Hanna, now is not the time to be
acting so rashly.” Percy remarked from the side.
“What do I have to do?” Hanna asked Azrael after
she briefly glared at Percy. She regained some sense of her will.
“Just follow what I do.” Azrael pricked his
finger with a needle and proceeded to place his hand on that piece of scroll.
Hanna followed suit.
“Repeat after me. For the covenant is now set
and done, words of iron and chain of blood, I shall be bound by the rules till
the end of my existence.”
“For the covenant is now set and done, words of
iron and chain of blood, I shall be bound by the rules till the end of my
existence.” Hanna repeated the words.
Large particles flowed out from that piece of
scroll, enveloping both Azrael and Hanna. As fast as they appeared, the light
particles melted into the air. What appeared were two copies of the scroll.
“The contract is completed.”
Azrael handed one of them to Hanna.
“Please save my sister, Prim.” Hanna begged
Azrael.
“I shall act as promised.”
As Hanna looked at the contract, the words ‘Save
Prim’ appeared on the paper. Undoubtedly, the same words appeared in Azrael’s
copy.
In Yggdrasil, there is a job class known as a
scribe. It was rather unpopular as it did not offer any tangible benefits in
terms of raising a player’s fighting prowess. However, the job class was useful
when used in scroll making. One tangible role for a player to holding the
scribe job class was to act as an arbitrator and lawyer within the world of
Yggdrasil. With the proper payment, scribes could prepare either weak binding
magical contracts between players or the strongest level of contracts on agreement
between guilds. The contract is a necessity in an environment where swindling
would not be penalized by the game manager as it was considered a form of
gameplay. Swindling occurred ranging from non-delivery of traded goods, to
unequal loot-drop distribution between cooperating raiding parties. The penalty
for breaking the covenant could range from forfeiture of a certain amount of
gold to losing a world item, based on the level and terms of the contract.
Needless to say, the stronger the contract, the higher the amount of gold
needed to be paid to the scribe.
In this case, both Azrael and Hanna were now
bonded by a mutual covenant as stated within that piece of paper. Breaking the
terms will result in……
“I am afraid I cannot let this proceed any
further.” Percy declared slyly.
On his words, Percy’s shadow twisted as if it
has a life of its own. A figure jumped out from Percy’s shadow, and rushed
towards Azrael. It was Valamere.
No, other than him, there were five others
aiming for Azrael from different directions. Every single one of the five
appeared from the shadows like the first.
At a glance, their motives were obvious, which
was to take the head of Azrael.
During the first few seconds, when Valamere
studied his target after emerging from Percy’s shadow, Valamere felt something
was off. Even at his speed, most targets would at least display a panicked
expression. But instead, Azrael was rooted to his spot, cool as a cucumber.
He slowed down his pace, allowing the others to
reach Azrael first.
Two meters away from Azrael, all five of his
subordinates stopped. Valemere could not register the reason at first. Then, he
noticed that all their heads had disappeared. Their blood gushed out from the
severed necks like a fountain. But instead of spraying all over the hall, the
blood gathered into a revolving red sphere just above Azrael.
A figure in a red dress appeared from behind
Azrael, a platinum haired girl with red eyes. Her gaze would easily bewitch any
man who laid eyes on her and she was the one that massacred the five that
preceded him. Those were the thoughts of Valamere.
Valamere instantly raised his alert level to
maximum. He instantly knew that this person was not a normal opponent. Firstly,
she took out the elite team of his assassin’s school within seconds and he did
not even catch a glimpse of how she did it. Secondly, he could not even sense
her presence until she stepped out from behind Azrael’s back. Now the little
girl stood in front of Azrael, shielding him from Valamere.
Valamere felt the sweat accumulating around his
hand. He took a few calming breaths and began to analyze his enemy. From the
strange sphere floating over her head, and the attack that cleanly beheaded
five opponents. He roughly guessed that she was a magic caster.
To have the best chance of winning, he needed to
capitalize on his quick attack and finish her in a single blow, so that she
would not have any chance to react. He cast all of the numerous buffing
spells he knew on himself, and drank several small vials of strengthening
potions, increasing the limits of his physical abilities by several fold. Those
concoctions were prepared from his family’s secret recipes.
While he was buffing himself, the girl and
Azrael did nothing other than observing him. Valamere regained a sense of
calmness. At this stage, he was confident of his improved odds for success.
Even now, nobody else among the top heroes of the association could match him
in terms of speed. Some of them clearly remarked that his level of agility was
on par with the elites of the Storm-Style swordsman, even when facing those
rare few who mastered ‘Raijin’s Blessing’, a skill that allowed a person to
achieve the speed level of lightning.
He placed his right hand on his katana, sheathed
on his left hip. Without warning, he dashed forward quick as lightning towards
the little girl in front of him. He planned to take her out first before moving
on to his primary target.
At this state, everything else to him seemed to
be frozen. As if time had stopped.
In his heart, there was a tinge of pity in his
heart at the thought of killing such a world class beauty. However, Valamere
banished the feeling as quick as it came. One of the first lessons he learned
as a youngster was that the blade is never hesitant, but cold and merciless. A
moment of mercy may mean the death of you.
He drew his blade as he arrived within range of
his first target. He activated his skill ‘Shadow Slash’, the hidden blade which
cannot be seen by the naked eye, aiming towards the girl’s neck. In his mind, he
could see the blade slicing through flesh and bone, separating the head from
the body. Satisfied, he stopped in front of Azrael.
Then, Valamere felt something was off. His body
felt heavy, this was followed by a strong sensation of pain, radiating from the
middle of his chest. He used his free hand to feel his chest.
He vaguely felt the impression of a circular
opening around his chest armor. With his finger, he touched around the edge of
the opening and felt moistness and warmth before bringing it into view. His
fingers was stained red.
Cough, cough.
Flecks of blood erupted from his mouth.
Valamere vaguely noticed the enchanted obsidian
katana, the heirloom of his family was missing the blade before dropping
lifelessly on the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
He was staring up at the ceiling. Finally, he
caught on to the fact that he had been dealt a mortal blow.
A figure was standing over him. It was the head
of that she-monster. In her right hand was a pulsating red mass while her left
hand was holding onto the obsidian blade.
Valamere finally understood what happened.
Unnoticed by him, Akasha literally ripped out his heart and snapped his katana.
God damn monster. Aaaaaaaarrrggghhhhhhhhhhh!
Valamere despaired at the thought of his
impending death.
He coughed out more blood as he tried to force
himself to scream out a curse at the monster who ended his life. Then, his
vision was totally occupied by Akasha’s beautiful face, her crimson eyes and
platinum hair shining brightly in the dark. She was displaying a bewitchingly
innocent smile as she looked at him. He could not help but shudder as if the
gaze was piercing into the deepest part of his soul.
“Tututu, did you think that I would let you get
off this easily after such a blatant attempt to assassinate my brother?” Akasha
began to speak as she waved a finger in front of him.
Then, Valamere felt the hands of Akasha holding
caressing both sides of his face. The soft and gentle caress seemed surreal as
those were the same hands that had plucked out his heart from his chest cavity.
Valamere grew colder at the sudden realization
this was not the end for him. The monster is not going to let him die. Without
a doubt, he would choose death over his coming tortured existence.
He protested feebly, trying to find any ounce of
strength left to stand against what was to be done to him.
In his eyes, the girl brought out his own heart
and licked it in front of him. Thereafter, a bright red magical circle appeared
on the heart.
In a flash, Akasha shoved the red mass back into
Valamere’s shattered rib cage. Although nearing death, Valamere’s could weakly
feel pain as if something was digging into his chest cavity.
Then, he registered a sensation as if ice-cold
water was forming in the middle of his chest. The icy feeling spread from his
chest and into his arms, before moving up his neck and into his brain.
He could vaguely feel his body convulsing, with
the soles of his feet planted firmly on the ground, he stood up in a fashion
that seemed like his body was defying gravity. To the ones looking, it was as
if someone had just rewound a tape of someone keeling back to the floor.
A tinge of red blossomed in the depths of his
once black pupils. The whites of his eyes turned black. At the same time, a
pair of fangs appeared from where his incisors once where.
The vestiges of his humanity were drained off
completely. Only to be replaced by a new sense of purpose. To him,
nothing else mattered anymore, he had only one goal now. That was to serve his
one and only master.
“Master…..”
The vampiric Valamere genuflected in front of
Akasha. He reached out his hand to take the hand of his master. As he was about
to kiss the hand of his mistress.
Kapoooww!!!!!
Valamere was sent flying out through the window
with a single back hand strike from Akasha. The sound of several loud crashes
were heard as if he met several obstacles on the way out.
After a moment, a deeply bruised and battled
Valamere came back. He limped towards Akasha once more and genuflected once
more before her. Even now, even though vampires were renowned for their
speedy recovery, Valamere’s wound was still recovering at that moment.
“Know your place, vermin. You dared to place
your filthy lips on my body!?” Akasha red eyes glared.
“My deepest apologies, Akasha-sama. Please
forgive me.” Valamere apologized profusely. His undead body seemed to sweat as
if fearful for the wrath it caused.
Percy’s entourage shivered wildly from such a
surreal scene playing before them. A wrathful crimson air danced and swirling
around such a small body made it all the more unbelievable.
What made it disappear in an instant was their
host’s gesture.
He placed his hand on top of Akasha’s head and
started to scratch it. Her previously wrathful expression melted into a
look of pure ecstasy.
Akasha latched her head on his brother’s hand as
if begging him not to stop.
“Scratchy, scratchy…..” she was mumbling
happily.
“Hora, you shouldn’t get too worked up over
small matters like this.”
“Hmmph, nii-san, what you are doing is so
unfair. You know I can’t resist it when you do something like this.”
All this while, Azrael never stopped scratching
his sister’s head. He then faced Percy and his retinue as Anael and Arilde
moved to his side.
Hanna looking from the side could only keep
quiet at such a dumbfounding scenario. Then, she noticed the figure of Azrael
and Anael’s shimmered and erupted into a blazing shower of sparks. Soon, two
figures emerged from the shower of sparks.
Hanna noticed the subtle changes in their
physical appearance. A pair of curled horns emerged from the sides of their
heads. Their piercing yellow pupils were more intense, the appearance changed
with the presence of vertical slits within the iris. A pair of jet black
feathered wings sprouted from their waists.
To Hanna, the changes in their appearance did
not diminish their attractiveness. Instead, it made them more striking.
Hanna was totally speechless. She never thought
of the possibility that her host was not human or that no mere human could
build a kingdom in such a notoriously dangerous land. She thought that this was
likely due to her lack of exposure to races other than humans.
“Arilde, Hanna would be tired after suffering
such emotional ordeal. Please take her to rest in the guest rooms. Serene-nee,
please assist Arilde. ”
“Understood, Azrael-sama.” Arilde replied. She
then grabbed hold of a stunned Hanna and force marched her out of the room
before she knew what happened.
“Now then, Prince Percy. About this rather
unfortunate event of having assassins appearing in my humble estate. I shall
demand an official public apology from the Empire for such a blatant act of
aggression.”
“I…I swear I have no knowledge that people of
such nature had blended into my retinue. Please accept my sincerest apologies.”
Percy bowed deeply.
It was a blatant lie.
“Hah, regretfully, I will not be signing any
treaty till this matter is resolved. You may leave.”
Percy and his retinue hurriedly left the halls.
They walked briskly without looking back as they wanted to put as much distance
between here and themselves.
“Nii-san, couldn’t you just let me take care of
them?” Akasha asked hopefully.
“Let’s stick to the plan. Let Anael have her
turn on the fun. Do you remember what Uncle Demiurge told us before? About the
greater the hope, the greater the despair. I would like to teach Percy the
absolute meaning of utter despair. On a side note, good thinking on turning
this man here into one of your serfs. The information he can provide me will be
invaluable to the next step of my operations. My dear little sister sure has
grown considerably.”
Azrael smiled as he rubbed Akasha’s head and she
beamed with happiness at his brother’s praising.
“Anael-chan, are the troops ready yet?”
“Of course, they are just waiting for your word,
nii-sama.” Anael replied in a matter of fact fashion.
“Then, let us enjoy the finale of this farce.”
Azrael declared.
Part 2
Once again Percy left the mansion on horseback.
He was surrounded by his retinue.
“General Cuvier, signal the men to attack in
full force. I want everything here to be leveled to the ground.”
“I do not advise it, Percy-sama. Looking at the
power wielded by such a small figure, it would be unwise to further aggravate
them.”
“General Cuvier, what we did was tantamount to
an act of war. Do you think that they will let us depart here easily? Most
likely they will have set up an ambush on the way back. We have no choice but
to go on the offensive.”
“I have already considered that possibility.
Yet, I was hoping for diplomacy to play a more prominent role to prevent such a
debacle. Perhaps, a formal apology and compensation……..”
Cuvier’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Percy and
the Ambat high administrator who followed them here.
The man’s face remained pale and sweaty since
leaving the mansion. Undoubtedly, he was shocked by the scene he witnessed
earlier.
Cuvier had no intention of censoring him for his
weakness. His experience as a veteran who had survived countless encounters
with monsters told him that those residing within the mansion, are ‘people’
that they should not mess with.
“General, do you think my father and brothers
would agree to having a non-human nation so close to our borders. Retreating
without a fight would be tantamount to cowardice in front of the enemy!” Percy
retorted heatedly.
“Plus, I have not used our trump card yet.”
A trump card that was given to us. Cuvier thought bitterly. The whole scenario
played out as if it was according to their opponent’s script.
Percy took out the sealing crystal and smiled.
It was a desperate smile. The expression of someone knowing that if he does not
succeed now, it would be the end of him. In contrast, Hilda, who was
riding beside him, looked more composed.
“General, if I may add. We have no choice but to
fight as we have planned. Percy-sama is right. Our enemies would not let us
leave here like this. In a way, we are surrounded right in the middle of the
enemy’s territory. Now, we have the best chance of success by striking out at
their head. I will assist Percy-sama to invoke the spell. The Death Wyrms
summoned will be the key to our success.” Hilda was trying to appeal to
Cuvier’s rationality.
Cuvier deliberated for a while. Then, he nodded
to his aide who rode beside him. The aide immediately took out something from
the side saddle on his horse. It was shaped like a thick, medium length metal
rod. The aid pulled the trigger located at the bottom of the rod.
Then, with a loud bang, something flew out of
the rod, flying quickly towards the night sky. After about three seconds, it
exploded loudly into a shower of bright red sparks. The meaning was obvious. It
was the signal to the gathered soldiers to attack.
“There’s no turning back now.” Cuvier sighed.
The army marched forward, ready for battle. They
had been put on standby since the beginning of the talks, waiting for the
signal to attack. The riflemen marched in formation, behind the single row of
magic tanks, heading towards the mansion which Percy’s group had just returned
from. Hovering about 50 meters behind the formation of ground forces, were
their entire fleet of airships.
The ship at the back floated down, lowering its
ramp at the bottom of the hull to allow Percy’s group to board it.
Percy, now standing on top of the command deck,
felt a little braver after seeing the 30,000 men gathered on the ground,
marching in a neat formation to meet their enemy. The foot soldiers were mainly
made up of musketeers, armed with the Empire’s standard issue magic rifle.
Behind the musketeers were the teams of three infantry carrying a large
metallic tube similar to what Cuvier’s aid used earlier. The metallic tube was
one of the Empire’s newest weapon, the magic mortar, capable of bombarding
their enemies with spells or projectiles from a long distance.
The Empire’s battle tactic was relatively
simple. The airships and mortar squad would bombard their enemies from afar,
forcing them to rush towards their formation. Then, the magic casters inside
the magic tanks would fire their spells at the incoming enemies, further
thinning their numbers. The ones that managed to reach them would then be
gunned down by the musketeers, shooting from the back. It was a strategy that
worked to their favor ten out of ten times.
Then, the row of magic tanks stopped advancing
about 200 meters away from the mansion. Percy knew why. Aside from attack
magic, the magic casters also learned spells that detect the location of their
enemies. It means the tanks have encountered the enemy’s vanguard. Percy began
to catch shouts of command from the individual ground and air commanders.
“Musketeers at the ready! Mortar squads prep for
fire.”
The musketeers unslung their rifles and held
them to their chests. The mana crystals affixed to each rifle began to glow as
the user charge it with their own mana. Mortar teams began to set up the launch
tube.
Because it was night time, the soldiers had to
rely on the weak illumination coming from the ships. The light was only strong
enough to reach a distance of up to 100 meters.
“Signal ship three to fire their illumination
round.” Curvier ordered his aide.
The aide proceeded to flash his signal flight at
the targeted ship. A short moment later, the ship to their front fired off
something like a white shooting star towards the front. It did not explode but
instead burned brightly in the night sky as if a star was burning above them.
What the light revealed were their opponents.
All 300,000 of them, forming a barrier between Percy’s army and their intended
target. The commanders who saw such a sight began to sweat. For one thing,
their enemy greatly outnumbered them. Secondly, the light revealed the true
nature of their opponent. An Undead army.
In the history of the Empire, the undead are an
existence that were almost entirely vanquished within the country. The heroes
of the past took great efforts to eradicate such unholy existences, purging
them from their lands. To the point that, tales of undead only existed in
stories. Although on occasion, there were those strong undead creatures that
appeared to terrorize the living like the Death Wyrm.
Did all the remaining undead in this world
gather here? Curvier thought.
“Report, we have determined the composition of
the enemy!”
One of Curvier’s aides came forward as he saluted
him. The man was dressed in a red wizard’s robe.
“General, the enemy army consists of Skeletal
Warriors, Zombie Warriors, Wights, Skeletal Knights, and Carapace Centipedes.”
Curvier began to listen to the man’s report.
Then, he nodded. Curvier felt relief that there were no troublesome opponents
hidden.
“We’ll proceed according to our previous battle
tactics. Notify the magic tanks to focus fire at any Carapace Centipedes.
Signal all the airships to assume bombarding formation.”
“Understood, general.” Several men saluted and
rushed to their tasks.
Soon, the airships began to align themselves to
a single file, with their sides facing their enemy. The formation’s purpose was
to bring the maximum amount of cannons to bear.
Just as the airships finished forming up, the
soldiers on the ground began to hear the sounds of a thousand bones creaking
and the rustling of metal. The battle had just started.
“All cannons fire!!” Curvier bellowed. The order
was repeated around the ship.
Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom
Boom Boom Boom.
The sounds of hundreds of explosions shattered
the quiet night.
Cuvier could feel the airships shuddering as
more than a hundred cannon suddenly fired into the darkness. This was followed
by the sound of hundreds of bones shattering. The cannonballs flew like a
battering ram into the midst of the skeletal warriors, turning thousands of
those skeletal warriors into bone fragments.
Less than a minute later, the first of those
soldiers entered the flood flights provided by the airships. Normally, the
floodlights were used to blind any oncoming enemies. However, they had no
effect on the undead soldiers as they did not rely on sight to sense their
enemies.
Although the first cannon salvo destroyed
thousands of undead soldiers, the gaps were instantly replaced. The undead
soldiers went into a frenzy, The Skeleton Warriors and Wights were rushing at
full speed towards the awaiting musketeer lines, brandishing their iron swords,
spears and axes.
As more and more Undead entered the range of the
ships’ flood lights, the ground itself began to explode. The mortar teams on
the ship and on the ground had begun their shelling. The explosions sent more
undead flying into the air as they shattered into a million pieces. All this
while, the airships did not let up on their bombardment.
The musketeers on the ground began to sweat.
Those at the front could see tens of thousands of undead having their false
life wiped off by the combined bombardment of the airships and mortar team.
Yet, they are still coming in like a tidal wave.
Moments later, the magic tanks began their
attack. Arcs of lightning and fireballs began to whiz off into the night. The
fireballs detonated like small mushroom clouds among the undead soldiers,
turning their targets into charred bone powder. The arcs of lightning pierced
and lit up those wearing metal armor brightly. Those undead that were hit by
it, shattered into pieces.
By this time, the order came.
“Musketeers, take aim!” The squad leader
ordered.
As one, the soldiers braced the butt of the
rifle at their shoulders, and pointed the muzzle to the front.
“Fire!”
Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack
Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack
The sounds of 15,000 gunfire shots added to the
din of both cannon and mortar fire.
“Second line, take position ….and fire.”
The first row of soldiers knelt as their comrades
behind them took up firing positions to fire their weapons.
Another round of simultaneous gunfire erupted.
Each magic rifle propelled a rounded metal
bullet. The bullet flew towards the oncoming horde of undead. The bullet
pierced through layers of undead, shattering ribs and fracturing the bony
limbs. However, it was not as effective as the cannon and mortar bombardment.
Living creatures would undoubtedly have dropped to the ground and screamed in
agony when a small metal ball the size of a marble pierced their body. But the
undead who lacked the ability to feel pain brushed off the damage and continued
rushing towards their foes. It is not like they survived the gunfire unscathed.
Many emerged from the fire, missing a limb or two, their armor plating filled
with bullet holes. Those at the receiving end of a lucky head shot crumbled to
the ground. The grasslands in front of the Empire’s Eastern Army were littered
with pieces of bone fragments, and parts of rotting corpses, illuminated by the
airships flood flights and the occasional flare rounds.
Curvier standing above the flagship looked down
at the seemingly unending wave of undead. The ship crew worked tirelessly,
never ceasing their cannonade.
“Sir, incoming enemy cavalry on both flanks.” One
of his sub-commanders shouted.
“Order our knights to intercept.” Cuvier
ordered. The battle so far was proceeding smoothly. He estimated that he would
experience a loss of ten percent of their entire combat strength by the end of
the skirmish.
Looking down, Cuvier saw the undead horsemen
clashing head on against the armored knights of the Empire. The riders exchange
blows with their long lances, and many were knocked to the ground. As the
undead riders lacked the armor of the Empire’s knights, the Empire came out
victorious from the initial clash. Quite a number of undead horsemen survived
the encounter, heading towards the musketeers. The commanders reacted by
shifting some of the musketeers to face them. The musketeers fired off more
shots towards the incoming riders, destroying more of them. The ones remaining
dashed against the musketeer formation. Many musketeers were pierced by the
long lances or trampled by the hooves of the undead horses. However, the undead
riders numbered too few to cause significant losses.
Then, a new set of order came.
“Fix bayonets!”
The remaining soldiers placed their bayonets on
their rifles, readied by the ensuing melee. The magic tanks began to move
forwards, crushing the oncoming horde of undead soldiers underneath their
treads. Some of those soldiers jumped on top of those tanks, hacking and
bashing the tank’s armor with their swords and axes. While the remaining undead
moved against the other soldiers.
“Charge!!!!!!!”
The musketeers rushed head on against the undead
army with a blood curdling cry. From the flank of the undead horde, came the
sound of hooves, the Empire’s knights rushing in from the flank of the undead
foot soldiers, swiftly cutting down many as they surged against the undead
horde. The surviving undead soldiers went into a melee against the musketeers.
By this time, it was the undead’s turn to be outnumbered.
At this stage, the Carapace Centipede appeared,
10 meters long with a hardened and spiked carapace. Many knights were thrown
off their horses as the armored monstrosity ran into their midst. The centipede
rushed into the fray, lifting itself into the air with its forelegs, and
crashing down onto the defenseless musketeers too focused in their melee. The
armored creatures swung their large bodies like a whip, goring countless
musketeers with their spiked carapace.
When facing such an opponent, the survivors
quickly retreated. The rationale for their actions were apparent moments later
as fireballs rained down from the sky, wrapping the armored monsters in a
blazing inferno.
The musketeers reformed their lines. By this
time, the wave of undead became a trickle and the knights easily finished off
the stragglers. The bombardment had stopped as they were no more concentrated
enemy groups.
A wave of cheering erupted among the soldiers as
the last Wight was turned into a burning corpse. Many were jubilant at their
victory against a numerically superior enemy.
Above them, Cuvier breathed out a sigh of
relief. The battle was over. All they needed to do now was the bombardment of
their enemy’s fortification. However, his stream of thought was interrupted by
a shout.
“Enemy contact!”
From the edge of the flood light, one hundred
armored figures appeared in a single row. Standing at a towering height of 2.3
meters, their left hands held large shields that covered three-quarters of its
body and their right hands were holding a wavy serrated black blade, emitting a
pulsating red-black aura. Their massive bodies were protected by a suit of full
plate black armor, covered in blood red tracings that resembled blood vessels
and spikes. A pair of curved demonic horns sprang from each one’s head. In the
dark, twin points of hateful, murderous malevolence shined brightly from the
eye sockets. As they stepped out into the flood lights, their rotted faces were
in full display. From their mouths, puffs of condensed air came out, as if
their breath super-chilled the warm summer air.
“Death Knights…..” Hilda muttered in fear.
Just with a single glance, Cuvier knew that
those were not your run-of-the-mill monsters. His body shivered as goosebumps
spread all over his body. Yet it did not deter him from shouting his next
order.
“Reform the lines! Cannons at the ready! ”
The soldiers on the ground reassembled
themselves into their original positions, with the magic tanks taking up
position as the vanguard. Just as the tanks finished reforming, the Death
Knights rushed forward like a violent gale of death.
The ships’ cannons began their bombardment
again. However, due to the Death Knights’ nimble movement, many of the shots
missed. It would not be accurate to say that none of the Death Knights were
hit. There were a few lucky rounds that managed to hit their mark. As the shots
came down, dense as raindrops. The few shots that missed exploded on the
ground, creating great plumes of dirt.
The soldiers expected that those towering
monstrosities would crumble as usual like their previous opponents, instead the
cannon balls only bounced of the monsters’ armor. The effect of a direct hit
was only slowing the approaching monsters for a brief second.
Under that constant bombardment, they did not
stop moving forward. Soon, it was the magic tanks’ turn to start their attack.
Once again, lightning arcs and fireballs began to streak towards the Death
Knights. Now, the Death Knights began to dodge the spells, they did not
approach in a straight line. They held their giant kite shield to the front,
shielding their entire body. The spells that managed to hit had as much effect
as the cannon balls.
Many of the tank commanders began to panic, as
even the strongest monster that they had encountered before would falter under
such intensive bombardment. The crews started to pray that the tanks’ armor was
strong enough to protect them.
Soon, under the din of cannon fire, sounds of
cracking began anew as the infantry began firing their rifles. While the cannon
fire and spells could slow them, the bullets fired were akin to hurling pebbles
at a charging rhinoceros, enraging them further.
At a distance of 20 meters, the remaining
mounted cavalry began their charge from the sides, aiming their long metal
lance at those monsters. Many of the knights prayed fervently to their gods,
for their strike to be true and strong, for their lances to pierce their enemy
like in many battles before.
Sure enough, the aim of their lances, targeting
the head were accurate. But what happened was the soldiers who found their mark
flew of their horses as if their lances had just hit a large boulder. The
sudden stop of momentum caused many to be thrown off from their horses. Many of
them were trampled mercilessly by their comrades approaching from the back.
Seeing this, some tried to ram the Death Knight
head on. Unfortunately, they and their mounts met a bloody ends, skewering
themselves on the Death Knight’s spiked armor. Even when facing such an
overwhelming attack force, the Death Knights charged on.
Soon, the 100 Death
Knights reached the row of magic tanks. Raising their serrated blades, the
Death Knights slashed at the tanks. The blades acted like a can opener, cutting
through the armor, and revealing the magic caster hidden inside. The response
of the magic casters in face of overwhelming danger reflected their level of
experience.
The novice began to
panic, began to fire their spells at point blank, resulting in them unwittingly
being caught by the effects of their own spells. Many of the magic casters,
howled in agony as they lay injured at the wreckage of their own tank, burn by
acid from their ‘Acid Javelin’ or flames from their ‘Fireball’.
While the more level headed veterans cast
healing spells on their injured comrades, some even invoked ‘Frost’, hoping to
freeze the Death Knight, rooting them to the spot as they made their escape.
However, just like all the spells they casted earlier, the Death Knight
shrugged it off, breaking off the sheets of ice forming around their bodies.
Their actions when facing the Death Knights
determined their outcome. The Death Knights grabbed at those who resisted
fairly well, out of the tank as they screamed and cursed. The cursing soon
turned into howls of pain as the Death Knights proceeded to break both their
legs before dragging them screaming back towards where they came. Curvier saw
the same scene repeated all over the battlefield. In some cases, teams of four
Death Knights began to break the armored treads of the tanks instead before
carrying off the entire tank like spoils of war with each of them holding onto
a corner.
The musketeers could not do a single thing to
stop them. Notwithstanding the differences in fighting strength, the musketeers
were thrown into disarray as some of the Death Knights broke through their
formation and began to bash the soldiers around with their large shields.
What in the blazes?
At a glance, Cuvier’s blood froze, he understood
his enemy’s intention perfectly. The enemy is trying to obtain their tank
technology and the right people with the knowledge, and experience to operate
them.
Would they stop with just the tanks?
With that sudden realization, Cuvier bellowed
with anger.
“Sentries double the alert! Keep an eye out for
any enemy boarders!”
Many of his sub-commanders hesitated for a
second before passing on the order. The chances of someone approaching from the
air without being spotted was unlikely. In the war with the demi-humans, their
airship fleet suffered tremendous losses due to the quick and covert attacks
from the demi-humans’ glider teams. Now, they had sentry teams posted around
the ship to be alert for any attackers. Although many of them were shaken by
the skirmish on the ground, they were still confident that they were safe here as
no one would be able to approach them without them knowing.
Their false sense of security was broken by a
familiar voice.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
Percy and Cuvier turned around, and their
attention was focused towards the middle of the ship. Standing there were two
familiar figures in white robes. It was Azrael and Anael. Under more peaceful
circumstances, Percy would appreciate the scene. With their black feathered
wings extended, both Azrael and Anael looked like angels that descended from
heaven. A few of the soldiers looked like they had half a mind to kneel and
pray for mercy. Percy looked into those yellow vertical beast-like pupils and
knew that mercy would not be part of their agenda for the night.
He quickly whipped out the summoning crystal hidden
within this coat and invoked the spell within.
“Spell ‘Unholy Awakening’!” Percy shouted.
The crystal within his hand began to glow with a
bluish dark radiance. High above his airship fleet, twenty large magical
circles appeared. From each magic circle, a creature with a serpentine horned
head emerged from its depths, flapping their large, leathery black wings. Their
bodies were balanced by their thick powerful tails, as they hovered in the air,
generating gusts of strong wind with each beat of their wings. The Death Wyrms
had finally appeared.
Unlike the Skeletal Dragon, which is classified
as a mid-tier undead dragon, the Death Wyrms appeared more like wyverns, with
leathery, claw-like wings replacing the forelimbs of the dragons. Also unlike
their cousins, wyverns possessed a pair of muscular hind-legs and a strong
tail, allowing them to crawl on the ground with unprecedented speed. In
comparison to the Skeletal Dragon, the Death Wyrm is massive, measuring up to
15 meters in height and 40 meters in length from head to tail.
In the lore of Yggdrasil, the Death Wyrm was a
sub-type of wyvern that was corrupted by the essence of the undead, allowing
them to be harnessed and utilized by those with unholy energy to spread death
at a massive scale. Unlike the other wyvern, the Death Wyrm adorned their body
with the bones of their dead kin like armor, granting those flying
monstrosities with high physical resistance.
The Death Wyrm is a rather formidable opponent.
As its ultimate attack, the ‘Unholy Breath’, consists of an ability that
allowed them to blanket a wide area with a deadly smog that chokes the life out
of any living thing within seconds. The Death Wyrm would then proceed to feed
on the souls of the dead, leaving the husks of their unfortunate victims to
turn into zombies. The Death Wyrm would get stronger with every soul it
consumed. In Yggdrasil, the Death Wyrm is a particularly nasty opponent, due to
its AOE attack. Any player who died under the hands of the Death Wyrm would
raise the Death Wyrm’s level instantly, the players who died would also suffer
a greater level reduction penalty after respawning due to the Death Wyrm’s
feeding on the player’s soul. The penalty could be negated if the player was
equipped with divine-tier resurrection items.
Underneath their horned helmet, each Death Wyrm
had their electrical blue eyes focused on that one person, Percy, who was their
summoner. Pale glowing blue mist were emitted from their opened mouths.
The battlefield became quiet at the sudden
appearance of those twenty flying monstrosities. Even the soldiers on the
ground directed their gaze towards the sky at the legendary monsters that once
caused a national scale disaster in the East thirty years ago. All of them were
rooted to the spot by fear, fearing those monsters would sweep down on them if
they started to run. Even the few Death Knights that remained, stopped their
attacks as the Death Wyrms appeared. The others had retreated back to the
mansion, with their spoils of war.
Suddenly, one of the Death Wyrms swooped down,
instantly crushing two Death Knights with its powerful hind legs, while
avoiding stepping on the musketeers on the ground. That Death Wyrm gave out a
deafening roar before chomping its mouth on a third Death Knight, crushing it
with its powerful jaws. Another three Death Knights tried a sneak attack from
the rear, only for them to be swatted away by the Death Wyrm’s powerful tail.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
A loud maniacal laughter came from above the
flagship. Percy was laughing at the prowess displayed by one of the twenty
Death Wyrms under his control. His sense of panic earlier was replaced by a
feeling of elation at his new found power. The realization that his dreams of
gaining the throne, no, the world was not too far off.
I am invincible. No one can stop me now. Let my
vengeance begin.
“Let everyone in this world know of my power.”
Percy shouted confidently.
The people surrounding Percy, whom were frozen
with fear moments earlier, began to clap loudly, as if rallying behind their
prince. Many applauded out of a sense of fear in the face of overpowering
strength. Some clapping were thinking that their wildest ambitions could be
achieved if they threw their support behind their fourth prince.
The latter group began to a shout, “Emperor
Percy! Emperor Percy! Emperor Percy! Emperor Percy!”
This was soon joined by the others. Even the
soldiers on the ground joined their voices. The Death Wyrms join the chorus of
cheers with their roaring.
Unnoticed by them, only a handful people did not
join in the cheering, among them were Azrael, Anael, Hilda and one of Percy’s
knights.
After several minutes, Percy soon raised his
hands to stop his people from cheering further. With a smug expression, he
looked at Azrael and his sister, hoping to see the face of a person who
regretted his foolish action. But what he saw instead was a smiling Azrael and
Anael, they looked like they were belittling him. Their expression greatly
infuriated Percy as they reminded Percy of his brothers just as he was cast out
from the capital. As he was about to send a mental order for his Death Wyrms to
attack.
“It’s time I end this little charade. Skill,
master of undead < Overlord’s Dominion >.” Azrael whispered.
Just then, Percy felt something change, he could
not tell what. However, he ignored it and shouted his order angrily,
“Death Wyrms, kill these two!!!”
But the Death Wyrms did not budge an inch, all
of them remained where they were. Looking at their inaction, Percy began
to sweat as he repeated his order.
“Death Wyrms. As your master, I order you to
destroy Azrael and Anael.”
Then, Percy realized that the mental link he
shared with the Death Wyrms earlier was absent. He turned towards Azrael who
began to grin this time. He began to howl in despair as he was trying to tear
his hair out, as he realized what happened. As if confirming Percy’s worst fear,
Azrael ordered.
“Death Wyrm, pick up the remaining Death Knights
and return to the mansion.”
As one, all twenty Death Wyrms flew towards the
ground, picking up any remaining Death Knights before heading towards the
direction of Azrael’s mansion.
Azrael walked towards the railing of the ship,
revealing himself in plain sight to everyone present.
“Gentlemen, thank you for volunteering your
bodies for the creation of my grand army. To show my appreciation for your
selfless sacrifice tonight, I shall be merciful to most of you here by granting
a painless death. Now, I bid you all adieu.”
Azrael looked at Anael who nodded at him before
he cast a spell.
“What…..” Before Percy could utter a single word
of protest, Azrael invoke his spell.
“Melded magic, ‘Holy Tempest’.”
With that, a single gigantic pillar of lightning
came down from the night sky, slamming on the ground, lighting the entire area
brighter than day. Multiple bursts of smaller arcs of electrical destruction
emerged from the central pillar, spreading along the ground and in the air
forming a rounded dome-shaped canopy, enveloping the entire invading army in a
dome-like tempest.
The arcs of lightning spread through the ranks,
electrocuting every single surviving soldier on the ground. None were spared,
be it men or animals. The lightning arcs overwhelmed the magical barrier of the
surviving magic tanks, turning the tanks into giant metallic conductors as the
lightning wave dispersed through the ground. Needless to say, the crew suffered
instantaneous death. None had the chance to experience pain as the overwhelming
surge of current fried their brains and nerves instantly, true to Azrael’s
word.
In the air, the people within the flagship
trembled uncontrollably as the lightning destruction danced around them. The
airships shared the same fate as the people on the ground. Multiple arcs of
lightning pierced through the hull of the ships, superheating the structure and
causing them to explode violently. The crews of those ill-fated airships were
thrown into the air by the explosion. Thankfully, all were spared a painful
death from falling from a height as all of them had lightning arcs course
through them, using their bodies as conductors.
Miraculously, the flagship was spared from
destruction as none of the electrical arcs hit them, as if the ship was
floating in the eye of the storm. Her crew trembled violently as they witnessed
the tempest of destruction and death that waltzed around them.
The storm lasted for half a minute before
dissipating completely. With that, the destruction was apparent for everyone to
see especially the surviving members of the flagship. The entire area was
littered with the remains of the Eastern Army. Here and there, airship
wreckages dotted the area along with the burned hulks of the magic tanks.
With that, many dropped to their knees in front
of Azrael, crying and begging for mercy.
“Nii-san, let’s not kill them. I have a use for
extra survivors.” Anael gave out a beautiful goddess like smile as she asked
her brother.
“Understood, I’ll leave it to you to decide on
how to use them.” Azrael accented to his sister’s request.
Many people including Percy gave a weak smile as
they realized that their impending doom had been averted. Many high ranking
officials like Percy were under the impression that they were to be used as
bargaining chips in future negotiations with the Empire.
“Pumpkin Jack, report to my position at once.”
Anael seemed like she was whispering to the air.
Moments later, a circular portal formed behind
Anael. A person, no, it would be more accurate to say that a humanoid creature
with a pumpkin head in a butler uniform emerged from it, following from behind
him were a group of short red panda-like demi-humans in butler uniforms.
Several gasped at the sight of the Ushan butlers. But, many more of the
survivors were shocked by the bizarre appearance of the pumpkin headed butler.
The newly arrived party bowed to both Azrael and
Anael.
“Jack, you have done well to manage the tomb
under my absence. To that, I am grateful for your efforts. As a reward, I will
permit you to gather intelligence from the captives I have chosen, use your
preferred method.” Azrael told Pumpkin Jack as he gestured towards Percy and
gang.
“Truly, Azrael-sama?! Oh, it has been so long.
Please accept my gratitude, Azrael-sama.”
Due to his vegetable-like head, it is hard for
Pumpkin Jack to display any form of emotion. During a conversation, his eye
sockets and mouth will glow with every single word uttered. He bowed again to
Azrael before turning to the captives, surveying every single of them.
“Decision…….De..ci...sions…..” Jack soon laid
his eyes at Cuvier.
From the look of Cuvier’s eyes, he knew that he
would be the first to be interrogated.
“You have mistaken that I could be taken without
a fight, you monster!” Cuvier bellowed as he drew out his saber.
“By all means, resist all you want. But the
outcome will be as expected.” Pumpkin Jack replied nonchalantly as he walked
towards Cuvier, who was poised for a fight.
As Jack arrived within striking distance, Cuvier
lunged at him, slashing diagonally across the chest of Jack with both his arms
as if trying to cut out the heart of Pumpkin Jack. However, Jack responded by
catching both of Cuvier’s wrists with one hand. A crack was audible.
It was a surreal scene as those thin,
branch-like arms easily crushed Cuvier’s thickset wrists. Cuvier fought back a
painful gasp as Pumpkin Jack easily twisted his arms around like holding onto a
twig.
“Let us begin, shall we…..” Jack announce
menacingly.
Before Cuvier could say a thing, Jack’s head
flew off from his body and affixed itself over Cuvier’s head. Strong muffled
cries could be heard from within Jack’s head as if Cuvier was trying to scream
his lungs out. Undoubtedly, this was due to the proboscis that was piercing,
into Cuvier’s skull and into his brain.
“There, there, it will be over soon. The pain
will soon go away. ” Jack sounded like he was consoling a baby. Within moments,
the muffled cries stopped and Cuvier’s body slacken, just as Jack’s original
headless body released his grip on Cuvier hand. A sense of vigor seemed to
return to Cuvier’s body as its new owner decided to take it for a spin.
“Got to do something about the body fat….. But
the brain…..Ah, not a bad mind, not a bad mind indeed.” Jack was chuckling to
himself as he stood in a thinking posture.
“Please take the captives to the holding cells.”
Jack ordered the butlers he brought along.
Seeing this, the faces of Cuvier’s officers
turned pale. Some tried to put up a fight, but they were easily subdued by the
Ushan butlers. A few even tried to beg Azrael and Anael while on their knees,
hoping to be spared from such an ending.
“Well then, Jack. Turn these few over to my dear
sister Akasha, they will serve as a renewable food source for the Vampire
Brides serving her. Order her kin not to cause any unnecessary pain to them as
it will deteriorate the blood quality.” Anael passed Jack her instructions.
The begging captives were dragged away,
screaming and crying, into the portal in which Jack arrived.
Seeing this, Percy’s mouth trembled. He realized
that he would most likely share a fate worse than they did. His body shaking
and sweating, he furiously tried to think of any possible way of salvaging this
debacle.
I could suggest my usefulness as a bargaining
chip for the Empire or even better putting the blame solely on father and
brother and I would gladly be one of Azrael’s collaborators. Yes, that could
work.
“Please, I beg for your mercy, Azrael-sama. I
was under orders by my father. As a son and also a subject of the Empire, I
cannot disobey his direct edict.” Percy prostrated in front of Azrael.
“Do not lie. You made the decision on your own
accord, motivated by your greed and lust.” Azrael’s eyes narrowed as he stared
at Percy’s face.
Percy could only open and close his mouth in a
panic as his lie was discovered. The beads of sweat on his face turned into a
stream. He had no choice but to use his last resort.
“The Empire will not let this matter stand. What
you are doing will start a war between our countries!” Percy shouted in a false
act of bravado.
“Have you conveniently forgotten about your
attempted assassination earlier? Your schemes provided me with the casus
belli to treat the Empire as a hostile nation. Plus, no one back home
knows you are here…. You have made sure of it, haven’t you, Astrape and
also…….Hilda?” Azrael redirected his attention to two people standing behind
Percy.
“Yes, Onii-sama.” One of Percy’s guards
answered. Moments later, his appearance began to melt away like clay, his, no
her features eventually turned into a raven hair beauty with obsidian black
eyes. Eyes that looked at Percy as if she was looking at a maggot, with pure
disgust as she returned to her brother’s side.
“As instructed, Azrael-sama.” Hilda kneeled in
front of Azrael and lowered her head.
Percy felt as if he had the wind knocked out of
him. Hilda was the last person on his mind that would betray him. She was the
one who gave him the information about all the artifacts in the house. She was
the one who suggested the plan of gaining control over the mansion and taking
the power there for himself. Then, it hit him.
“Impossible, since…. when ……how?” Percy began to
mumble.
“Truthfully, she did not volunteer for it…… We
had to be more direct with our persuasion. Isn’t that right, Hilda?” Azrael
smiled sheepishly as he looked at Hilda.
Hilda stood up as she turned towards Percy. He
noticed that she took out a ring that was on her finger. Hilda’s appearance
shifted slightly. Her previous brunette hair became black. The color of her
skin turned into a milky white tinge. But the most visible changes was to her
eyes, her pupils became blood red while the white sclera turned black. Her eyes
were just like Valamere’s now. Percy understood what happened.
“I serve a higher power now……” Hilda declared as
she walked towards Percy. He noticed her eyes was focused on someone standing
to Percy’s right. Percy shifted his gaze to his right and his heart skipped a
beat.
It was Akasha, and standing to her right and slightly
to the back was the now vampiric Valamere himself.
“Mistress……” Hilda once again prostrated but
this time to the platinum haired monster who turned Valamere into a vampire.
“You have done well……” Akasha praised her.
That simple praise still managed to cause
Hilda’s body to shake with great joy.
“Thank you, mistress. I will work harder from
now.”
“See that you do.” Akasha gazed sharply at her.
The look seemed to convey the missing half of her sentence, or else.
Hilda now proceeded take up position on Akasha’s left side.
“Why…..why are you doing this? What do you hope
to achieve by starting a war?” Percy was trying hard to appeal to Azrael’s
logic.
“Livestock does not need to know so much. Just
be a good animal and produce fresh tasty blood for my sister. She rarely has
the chance to get a taste of royalty, for such a treat rarely presents itself.
Unless, you prefer to share the same fate as Cuvier? That I can arrange.”
Azrael answered cheerfully.
Despair welled up within Percy’s mind as he
would be treated no different than the cows in a ranch. He gave an utter cry of
despair before trying desperately to escape by jumping over the railing of the
floating airship.
Before, he could even take more than two step.
He was caught in a neck lock by Valamere who proceeded to drop him back in
front of Akasha.
“Love you so much, onii-sama. I am gonna have so
much fun with him.” Akasha hugged her brother tightly.
“Remember to keep him well-fed, okay? Do not
dispose of him if you are tired of him. You can pass him to your servants as a
reward to them.” Azrael reminded Akasha.as he briefly looked at Valamere and
Hilda, who promptly bowed with respect.
“Understood, onii-sama. I will give him his just
desserts.” Akasha grinned happily before she snapped her fingers. Valamere
seemed to understand the wordless order of his mistress, and he proceeded to
drag Percy like a sack of potatoes, as he screamed and cried out for mercy,
through the Portal just like the others earlier.
Percy was not alone as his personal knights who
were with him during the stay in the R’lyeth Manor joined him.
Be glad that you still retain your life, vermin.
You have my gratitude for delivering the sacrifice I require. Now, you can
spend your miserable life to be food for my sister.
Azrael mused to himself. He then turned his
attention towards the remaining crewmen. Many were holding onto their religious
necklace, praying fervently for salvation. Many of the younger ones had wet
themselves with fear as the strong smell of ammonia hung around them. Their
fellow crew members paid them no heed as they were more focused on a more
immediate peril.
“Now then, about the rest of you…….”
Azrael turned his attention towards the
remaining crewmen. In the darkness of night, a pair of red glimmers surfaced
within his yellow pupils.
Blood drained from the faces of the crewman as
they were about to receive their judgement. Most of them foresaw a lifetime of
torture awaiting them and many were on the verge of killing themselves.
But contrary to their expectations………..
“Let’s sign a contract.”
Huh?
Azrael’s unexpected offer caused many to exclaim
silently in their minds.
-End of Chapter 7-
Character Note.
As a heteromorphic being, Pumpkin Jack is a
hybrid between a Brain Eater and a Plant-man. The characteristics of his Brain
Eater race are hidden within his pumpkin head. When it latches onto his
unfortunate victims, metal like proboscis needles will pierce through the
victim’s cranium, allowing Jack to take control of his victim’s movement.
Additionally, he can access their memories and thought processes as he slowly
consumes their brain, eventually reducing them into mindless walking meat
puppets. Wearing a helmet would only slightly delay Jack from taking over as
his proboscis can excrete an acidic mucus that would burn through the metal,
allowing him to access that which he desires the most, Brainnzzz.
Writer: Henet
Editor: PervySageChuck
Overlord Ascendants Arc 1 Second Coming
Overlord Book 1, Chapter 7: Prelude to Order.
Part 1
Since Arilde’s visit, three days had gone by. To
Hanna, the three days were uneventful. She stopped banging on the cell door
anymore or shouting out for her friends. Every day since then, she had been
sitting on her bed, using those waking moments to deliberate on the decision
she had to make.
“Is this the extent of your resolve…?” Arilde’s
words to her kept reverberating in her head.
“Looks like there is no other way, is there?
Hanna Nobel Adlia, it is not like he is asking for my life. But, if he seeks to
abuse the power I hold………No, I’ll end my own life if that is what it takes to
stop myself falling into the wrong hands.”
There, Hanna’s expression changed. It was not
the face of someone agonizing over her future. But someone determined on the
decision she had to make.
For Prim. For my family.
Knock knock.
Hearing that, Hanna instantly knew that it was
another unscheduled visit.
For the second time, Serene entered her cell.
“Pardon me, Hanna-sama. But your presence is
requested by the master of the house.”
“I understand. Please tell him that I shall
consent to his request.”
“Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any
request, please do not hesitate to ask.” Serene bowed. She then promptly
snapped her fingers. Two Ushan maids entered the cell.
“Bring our guest to the bathroom.” Serene
instructed the maids.
“As ordered, Serene-sama.” The two maids
answered in unison.
Hanna thoroughly enjoyed her bath. In the cell,
she was provided with a tub of soapy water and a cloth to wash herself. The hot
water helped her to relax and clear her head. She wished she could immerse
herself longer. But the appearance of Serene holding a simple, yet
well-designed lilac colored dress, marked the end of her bath.
Hanna now felt refreshed while walking through
the familiar corridors of the mansion once again, under the escort of Serene.
She was brought before a set of familiar oaken doors, the ones leading into the
guest hall. The butler Sigmund, standing by the side of the door, opened it and
she was quietly ushered inside.
Within, she noticed two rows of tables were
arrayed against each other. Sitting on one side, was Azrael, his sister, Anael,
and also Arilde. Facing them were three people. Hanna recognized all three of
them, Percy, General Curvier and also one of Ambat’s high administrators. Hilda
was standing behind Percy along with twenty of Percy’s personal guards.
Hanna noticed Azrael was talking as he skimmed
over a piece of scroll.
“These are some rather extraordinary terms
requested by the Empire, extradition of Princess Hanna Nobel Adlia, delivery of
compensation over the Death Wyrm rampage 30 years ago, ceding of territories
within the Forbidden Continent to the Empire and the list of demands does not
end here. Isn’t the Empire asking too much over a matter as simple as border security?”
“My regrets over such matters, Azrael-sama.
Sadly, I do not have the power to decide over the terms of the Empire. Perhaps,
I could advise my father over the details of some of the terms. ”
After hearing that, Hanna understood one thing.
The Empire had no reason to enter into negotiations on equal terms. Moreover,
they sought to use these outrageous demands to start a war. Firstly, they
demanded this country located within the Forbidden Continent to pay damages
over the destruction caused by the Death Wyrm. Citizens of the east, especially
the direct victims would agree that Azrael should bear responsibility over a
monster originating from his homeland. If Azrael chose to pay, it meant that
his country does not have the military strength to match up to the Empire and
attempted to prevent war by paying a tribute to the Empire. The Empire would
consume Azrael’s land bit by bit. But if Azrael did not agree to pay for the
damages, the Empire would deem it a casus belli for the Empire’s
military to invade under the pretext of seeking revenge on Azrael, blaming him
as the mastermind behind the Death Wyrm’s attack.
“I would appreciate that, Prince Percy. But this
matter of handing over my guests, whom received protection while staying under
my roof. I will not back down on this matter.” Azrael replied good naturedly.
“Sadly, Azrael-sama. We have come to an impasse
on this matter. Taking Princess Hanna Nobel Adlia would be a big step in ending
the civil conflict that lasted for a decade in my country. We greatly desired
her cooperation. How about this? Why don’t we let her decide for herself?”
Percy suggested as he focused his gaze at Hanna.
“That’s an excellent suggestion.” Azrael
answered happily.
“My gratitude for accepting my humble
suggestion.”
Percy’s expression turned shrewd. He took out
something from his pocket and placed it on the table, in direct view of Hanna.
It was a small stuffed doll.
Hanna eyes dilated from the sight of it.
Suddenly, she started to pounce at him, as if trying to place both her hands
around his neck and squeeze the life out of him. She would have done so if not
for the quick action of Serene, who grabbed Hanna by the chest.
“Get off me! Let me go! You bastard, you damn
low-life! What have you done to Prim?”
“Well, ‘I’ have not done anything to her yet.
But I believe it would be a matter of time before she would be married off to
the King of Grimvale. He had long since developed a soft spot for her. I pray
that she will have a long and joyful marriage with such a wonderful man.”
Percy smirked as he saw Hanna’s pale looking
face. Hanna collapsed sitting on the floor. She let out a cry of utter despair,
bloodying her own fist as she hit the floor.
“My sister, my dear little sister. Why does fate
have to so cruel?” Hanna lamented as tears flowed from her eyes. Her face
looked saddened at her beloved younger sister’s potentially cruel fate as the
King of Grimvale’s new toy.
“Of course, Princess Hanna. If you are willing
to serve me instead. I can promise a better outcome for your sister.” Percy
offered with an expression of feigned kindness as he reached out his hands.
Hanna’s eyes dilated. Her pupils only showed the
lifeless expression of someone who had ran out of options and lost all hope.
She feebly reached her hands, cursing the cruel hand she was dealt.
Before her hands reached Percy’s, somebody else
grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her up. She was staring into the face of
Azrael.
“I think it is too early to give up hope,
princess. You still have the power to change things here.” Azrael whispered to
her.
Some semblance of hope returned to Hanna’s eyes.
Percy was clicked his tongue quietly in
annoyance for the disruption.
“I can guarantee the safety of your sister. But,
it comes with a price. Do you have the resolve to meet with my demands?”
Azrael took out a scroll from empty space and
unfurled it in front of her.
“This is a magical contract that I have
pre-prepared. On it, it has been written that I shall fulfill three of your
wishes if you obey three of my requests. Failure to comply by either party will
result in death.” Azrael explained as he placed the contract in front of Hanna.
From the corner of her eyes, Hanna saw the
figure of Arilde observing from the sides. She nodded.
“Princess Hanna, now is not the time to be
acting so rashly.” Percy remarked from the side.
“What do I have to do?” Hanna asked Azrael after
she briefly glared at Percy. She regained some sense of her will.
“Just follow what I do.” Azrael pricked his
finger with a needle and proceeded to place his hand on that piece of scroll.
Hanna followed suit.
“Repeat after me. For the covenant is now set
and done, words of iron and chain of blood, I shall be bound by the rules till
the end of my existence.”
“For the covenant is now set and done, words of
iron and chain of blood, I shall be bound by the rules till the end of my
existence.” Hanna repeated the words.
Large particles flowed out from that piece of
scroll, enveloping both Azrael and Hanna. As fast as they appeared, the light
particles melted into the air. What appeared were two copies of the scroll.
“The contract is completed.”
Azrael handed one of them to Hanna.
“Please save my sister, Prim.” Hanna begged
Azrael.
“I shall act as promised.”
As Hanna looked at the contract, the words ‘Save
Prim’ appeared on the paper. Undoubtedly, the same words appeared in Azrael’s
copy.
In Yggdrasil, there is a job class known as a
scribe. It was rather unpopular as it did not offer any tangible benefits in
terms of raising a player’s fighting prowess. However, the job class was useful
when used in scroll making. One tangible role for a player to holding the
scribe job class was to act as an arbitrator and lawyer within the world of
Yggdrasil. With the proper payment, scribes could prepare either weak binding
magical contracts between players or the strongest level of contracts on agreement
between guilds. The contract is a necessity in an environment where swindling
would not be penalized by the game manager as it was considered a form of
gameplay. Swindling occurred ranging from non-delivery of traded goods, to
unequal loot-drop distribution between cooperating raiding parties. The penalty
for breaking the covenant could range from forfeiture of a certain amount of
gold to losing a world item, based on the level and terms of the contract.
Needless to say, the stronger the contract, the higher the amount of gold
needed to be paid to the scribe.
In this case, both Azrael and Hanna were now
bonded by a mutual covenant as stated within that piece of paper. Breaking the
terms will result in……
“I am afraid I cannot let this proceed any
further.” Percy declared slyly.
On his words, Percy’s shadow twisted as if it
has a life of its own. A figure jumped out from Percy’s shadow, and rushed
towards Azrael. It was Valamere.
No, other than him, there were five others
aiming for Azrael from different directions. Every single one of the five
appeared from the shadows like the first.
At a glance, their motives were obvious, which
was to take the head of Azrael.
During the first few seconds, when Valamere
studied his target after emerging from Percy’s shadow, Valamere felt something
was off. Even at his speed, most targets would at least display a panicked
expression. But instead, Azrael was rooted to his spot, cool as a cucumber.
He slowed down his pace, allowing the others to
reach Azrael first.
Two meters away from Azrael, all five of his
subordinates stopped. Valemere could not register the reason at first. Then, he
noticed that all their heads had disappeared. Their blood gushed out from the
severed necks like a fountain. But instead of spraying all over the hall, the
blood gathered into a revolving red sphere just above Azrael.
A figure in a red dress appeared from behind
Azrael, a platinum haired girl with red eyes. Her gaze would easily bewitch any
man who laid eyes on her and she was the one that massacred the five that
preceded him. Those were the thoughts of Valamere.
Valamere instantly raised his alert level to
maximum. He instantly knew that this person was not a normal opponent. Firstly,
she took out the elite team of his assassin’s school within seconds and he did
not even catch a glimpse of how she did it. Secondly, he could not even sense
her presence until she stepped out from behind Azrael’s back. Now the little
girl stood in front of Azrael, shielding him from Valamere.
Valamere felt the sweat accumulating around his
hand. He took a few calming breaths and began to analyze his enemy. From the
strange sphere floating over her head, and the attack that cleanly beheaded
five opponents. He roughly guessed that she was a magic caster.
To have the best chance of winning, he needed to
capitalize on his quick attack and finish her in a single blow, so that she
would not have any chance to react. He cast all of the numerous buffing
spells he knew on himself, and drank several small vials of strengthening
potions, increasing the limits of his physical abilities by several fold. Those
concoctions were prepared from his family’s secret recipes.
While he was buffing himself, the girl and
Azrael did nothing other than observing him. Valamere regained a sense of
calmness. At this stage, he was confident of his improved odds for success.
Even now, nobody else among the top heroes of the association could match him
in terms of speed. Some of them clearly remarked that his level of agility was
on par with the elites of the Storm-Style swordsman, even when facing those
rare few who mastered ‘Raijin’s Blessing’, a skill that allowed a person to
achieve the speed level of lightning.
He placed his right hand on his katana, sheathed
on his left hip. Without warning, he dashed forward quick as lightning towards
the little girl in front of him. He planned to take her out first before moving
on to his primary target.
At this state, everything else to him seemed to
be frozen. As if time had stopped.
In his heart, there was a tinge of pity in his
heart at the thought of killing such a world class beauty. However, Valamere
banished the feeling as quick as it came. One of the first lessons he learned
as a youngster was that the blade is never hesitant, but cold and merciless. A
moment of mercy may mean the death of you.
He drew his blade as he arrived within range of
his first target. He activated his skill ‘Shadow Slash’, the hidden blade which
cannot be seen by the naked eye, aiming towards the girl’s neck. In his mind, he
could see the blade slicing through flesh and bone, separating the head from
the body. Satisfied, he stopped in front of Azrael.
Then, Valamere felt something was off. His body
felt heavy, this was followed by a strong sensation of pain, radiating from the
middle of his chest. He used his free hand to feel his chest.
He vaguely felt the impression of a circular
opening around his chest armor. With his finger, he touched around the edge of
the opening and felt moistness and warmth before bringing it into view. His
fingers was stained red.
Cough, cough.
Flecks of blood erupted from his mouth.
Valamere vaguely noticed the enchanted obsidian
katana, the heirloom of his family was missing the blade before dropping
lifelessly on the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
He was staring up at the ceiling. Finally, he
caught on to the fact that he had been dealt a mortal blow.
A figure was standing over him. It was the head
of that she-monster. In her right hand was a pulsating red mass while her left
hand was holding onto the obsidian blade.
Valamere finally understood what happened.
Unnoticed by him, Akasha literally ripped out his heart and snapped his katana.
God damn monster. Aaaaaaaarrrggghhhhhhhhhhh!
Valamere despaired at the thought of his
impending death.
He coughed out more blood as he tried to force
himself to scream out a curse at the monster who ended his life. Then, his
vision was totally occupied by Akasha’s beautiful face, her crimson eyes and
platinum hair shining brightly in the dark. She was displaying a bewitchingly
innocent smile as she looked at him. He could not help but shudder as if the
gaze was piercing into the deepest part of his soul.
“Tututu, did you think that I would let you get
off this easily after such a blatant attempt to assassinate my brother?” Akasha
began to speak as she waved a finger in front of him.
Then, Valamere felt the hands of Akasha holding
caressing both sides of his face. The soft and gentle caress seemed surreal as
those were the same hands that had plucked out his heart from his chest cavity.
Valamere grew colder at the sudden realization
this was not the end for him. The monster is not going to let him die. Without
a doubt, he would choose death over his coming tortured existence.
He protested feebly, trying to find any ounce of
strength left to stand against what was to be done to him.
In his eyes, the girl brought out his own heart
and licked it in front of him. Thereafter, a bright red magical circle appeared
on the heart.
In a flash, Akasha shoved the red mass back into
Valamere’s shattered rib cage. Although nearing death, Valamere’s could weakly
feel pain as if something was digging into his chest cavity.
Then, he registered a sensation as if ice-cold
water was forming in the middle of his chest. The icy feeling spread from his
chest and into his arms, before moving up his neck and into his brain.
He could vaguely feel his body convulsing, with
the soles of his feet planted firmly on the ground, he stood up in a fashion
that seemed like his body was defying gravity. To the ones looking, it was as
if someone had just rewound a tape of someone keeling back to the floor.
A tinge of red blossomed in the depths of his
once black pupils. The whites of his eyes turned black. At the same time, a
pair of fangs appeared from where his incisors once where.
The vestiges of his humanity were drained off
completely. Only to be replaced by a new sense of purpose. To him,
nothing else mattered anymore, he had only one goal now. That was to serve his
one and only master.
“Master…..”
The vampiric Valamere genuflected in front of
Akasha. He reached out his hand to take the hand of his master. As he was about
to kiss the hand of his mistress.
Kapoooww!!!!!
Valamere was sent flying out through the window
with a single back hand strike from Akasha. The sound of several loud crashes
were heard as if he met several obstacles on the way out.
After a moment, a deeply bruised and battled
Valamere came back. He limped towards Akasha once more and genuflected once
more before her. Even now, even though vampires were renowned for their
speedy recovery, Valamere’s wound was still recovering at that moment.
“Know your place, vermin. You dared to place
your filthy lips on my body!?” Akasha red eyes glared.
“My deepest apologies, Akasha-sama. Please
forgive me.” Valamere apologized profusely. His undead body seemed to sweat as
if fearful for the wrath it caused.
Percy’s entourage shivered wildly from such a
surreal scene playing before them. A wrathful crimson air danced and swirling
around such a small body made it all the more unbelievable.
What made it disappear in an instant was their
host’s gesture.
He placed his hand on top of Akasha’s head and
started to scratch it. Her previously wrathful expression melted into a
look of pure ecstasy.
Akasha latched her head on his brother’s hand as
if begging him not to stop.
“Scratchy, scratchy…..” she was mumbling
happily.
“Hora, you shouldn’t get too worked up over
small matters like this.”
“Hmmph, nii-san, what you are doing is so
unfair. You know I can’t resist it when you do something like this.”
All this while, Azrael never stopped scratching
his sister’s head. He then faced Percy and his retinue as Anael and Arilde
moved to his side.
Hanna looking from the side could only keep
quiet at such a dumbfounding scenario. Then, she noticed the figure of Azrael
and Anael’s shimmered and erupted into a blazing shower of sparks. Soon, two
figures emerged from the shower of sparks.
Hanna noticed the subtle changes in their
physical appearance. A pair of curled horns emerged from the sides of their
heads. Their piercing yellow pupils were more intense, the appearance changed
with the presence of vertical slits within the iris. A pair of jet black
feathered wings sprouted from their waists.
To Hanna, the changes in their appearance did
not diminish their attractiveness. Instead, it made them more striking.
Hanna was totally speechless. She never thought
of the possibility that her host was not human or that no mere human could
build a kingdom in such a notoriously dangerous land. She thought that this was
likely due to her lack of exposure to races other than humans.
“Arilde, Hanna would be tired after suffering
such emotional ordeal. Please take her to rest in the guest rooms. Serene-nee,
please assist Arilde. ”
“Understood, Azrael-sama.” Arilde replied. She
then grabbed hold of a stunned Hanna and force marched her out of the room
before she knew what happened.
“Now then, Prince Percy. About this rather
unfortunate event of having assassins appearing in my humble estate. I shall
demand an official public apology from the Empire for such a blatant act of
aggression.”
“I…I swear I have no knowledge that people of
such nature had blended into my retinue. Please accept my sincerest apologies.”
Percy bowed deeply.
It was a blatant lie.
“Hah, regretfully, I will not be signing any
treaty till this matter is resolved. You may leave.”
Percy and his retinue hurriedly left the halls.
They walked briskly without looking back as they wanted to put as much distance
between here and themselves.
“Nii-san, couldn’t you just let me take care of
them?” Akasha asked hopefully.
“Let’s stick to the plan. Let Anael have her
turn on the fun. Do you remember what Uncle Demiurge told us before? About the
greater the hope, the greater the despair. I would like to teach Percy the
absolute meaning of utter despair. On a side note, good thinking on turning
this man here into one of your serfs. The information he can provide me will be
invaluable to the next step of my operations. My dear little sister sure has
grown considerably.”
Azrael smiled as he rubbed Akasha’s head and she
beamed with happiness at his brother’s praising.
“Anael-chan, are the troops ready yet?”
“Of course, they are just waiting for your word,
nii-sama.” Anael replied in a matter of fact fashion.
“Then, let us enjoy the finale of this farce.”
Azrael declared.
Part 2
Once again Percy left the mansion on horseback.
He was surrounded by his retinue.
“General Cuvier, signal the men to attack in
full force. I want everything here to be leveled to the ground.”
“I do not advise it, Percy-sama. Looking at the
power wielded by such a small figure, it would be unwise to further aggravate
them.”
“General Cuvier, what we did was tantamount to
an act of war. Do you think that they will let us depart here easily? Most
likely they will have set up an ambush on the way back. We have no choice but
to go on the offensive.”
“I have already considered that possibility.
Yet, I was hoping for diplomacy to play a more prominent role to prevent such a
debacle. Perhaps, a formal apology and compensation……..”
Cuvier’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Percy and
the Ambat high administrator who followed them here.
The man’s face remained pale and sweaty since
leaving the mansion. Undoubtedly, he was shocked by the scene he witnessed
earlier.
Cuvier had no intention of censoring him for his
weakness. His experience as a veteran who had survived countless encounters
with monsters told him that those residing within the mansion, are ‘people’
that they should not mess with.
“General, do you think my father and brothers
would agree to having a non-human nation so close to our borders. Retreating
without a fight would be tantamount to cowardice in front of the enemy!” Percy
retorted heatedly.
“Plus, I have not used our trump card yet.”
A trump card that was given to us. Cuvier thought bitterly. The whole scenario
played out as if it was according to their opponent’s script.
Percy took out the sealing crystal and smiled.
It was a desperate smile. The expression of someone knowing that if he does not
succeed now, it would be the end of him. In contrast, Hilda, who was
riding beside him, looked more composed.
“General, if I may add. We have no choice but to
fight as we have planned. Percy-sama is right. Our enemies would not let us
leave here like this. In a way, we are surrounded right in the middle of the
enemy’s territory. Now, we have the best chance of success by striking out at
their head. I will assist Percy-sama to invoke the spell. The Death Wyrms
summoned will be the key to our success.” Hilda was trying to appeal to
Cuvier’s rationality.
Cuvier deliberated for a while. Then, he nodded
to his aide who rode beside him. The aide immediately took out something from
the side saddle on his horse. It was shaped like a thick, medium length metal
rod. The aid pulled the trigger located at the bottom of the rod.
Then, with a loud bang, something flew out of
the rod, flying quickly towards the night sky. After about three seconds, it
exploded loudly into a shower of bright red sparks. The meaning was obvious. It
was the signal to the gathered soldiers to attack.
“There’s no turning back now.” Cuvier sighed.
The army marched forward, ready for battle. They
had been put on standby since the beginning of the talks, waiting for the
signal to attack. The riflemen marched in formation, behind the single row of
magic tanks, heading towards the mansion which Percy’s group had just returned
from. Hovering about 50 meters behind the formation of ground forces, were
their entire fleet of airships.
The ship at the back floated down, lowering its
ramp at the bottom of the hull to allow Percy’s group to board it.
Percy, now standing on top of the command deck,
felt a little braver after seeing the 30,000 men gathered on the ground,
marching in a neat formation to meet their enemy. The foot soldiers were mainly
made up of musketeers, armed with the Empire’s standard issue magic rifle.
Behind the musketeers were the teams of three infantry carrying a large
metallic tube similar to what Cuvier’s aid used earlier. The metallic tube was
one of the Empire’s newest weapon, the magic mortar, capable of bombarding
their enemies with spells or projectiles from a long distance.
The Empire’s battle tactic was relatively
simple. The airships and mortar squad would bombard their enemies from afar,
forcing them to rush towards their formation. Then, the magic casters inside
the magic tanks would fire their spells at the incoming enemies, further
thinning their numbers. The ones that managed to reach them would then be
gunned down by the musketeers, shooting from the back. It was a strategy that
worked to their favor ten out of ten times.
Then, the row of magic tanks stopped advancing
about 200 meters away from the mansion. Percy knew why. Aside from attack
magic, the magic casters also learned spells that detect the location of their
enemies. It means the tanks have encountered the enemy’s vanguard. Percy began
to catch shouts of command from the individual ground and air commanders.
“Musketeers at the ready! Mortar squads prep for
fire.”
The musketeers unslung their rifles and held
them to their chests. The mana crystals affixed to each rifle began to glow as
the user charge it with their own mana. Mortar teams began to set up the launch
tube.
Because it was night time, the soldiers had to
rely on the weak illumination coming from the ships. The light was only strong
enough to reach a distance of up to 100 meters.
“Signal ship three to fire their illumination
round.” Curvier ordered his aide.
The aide proceeded to flash his signal flight at
the targeted ship. A short moment later, the ship to their front fired off
something like a white shooting star towards the front. It did not explode but
instead burned brightly in the night sky as if a star was burning above them.
What the light revealed were their opponents.
All 300,000 of them, forming a barrier between Percy’s army and their intended
target. The commanders who saw such a sight began to sweat. For one thing,
their enemy greatly outnumbered them. Secondly, the light revealed the true
nature of their opponent. An Undead army.
In the history of the Empire, the undead are an
existence that were almost entirely vanquished within the country. The heroes
of the past took great efforts to eradicate such unholy existences, purging
them from their lands. To the point that, tales of undead only existed in
stories. Although on occasion, there were those strong undead creatures that
appeared to terrorize the living like the Death Wyrm.
Did all the remaining undead in this world
gather here? Curvier thought.
“Report, we have determined the composition of
the enemy!”
One of Curvier’s aides came forward as he saluted
him. The man was dressed in a red wizard’s robe.
“General, the enemy army consists of Skeletal
Warriors, Zombie Warriors, Wights, Skeletal Knights, and Carapace Centipedes.”
Curvier began to listen to the man’s report.
Then, he nodded. Curvier felt relief that there were no troublesome opponents
hidden.
“We’ll proceed according to our previous battle
tactics. Notify the magic tanks to focus fire at any Carapace Centipedes.
Signal all the airships to assume bombarding formation.”
“Understood, general.” Several men saluted and
rushed to their tasks.
Soon, the airships began to align themselves to
a single file, with their sides facing their enemy. The formation’s purpose was
to bring the maximum amount of cannons to bear.
Just as the airships finished forming up, the
soldiers on the ground began to hear the sounds of a thousand bones creaking
and the rustling of metal. The battle had just started.
“All cannons fire!!” Curvier bellowed. The order
was repeated around the ship.
Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom Boom
Boom Boom Boom.
The sounds of hundreds of explosions shattered
the quiet night.
Cuvier could feel the airships shuddering as
more than a hundred cannon suddenly fired into the darkness. This was followed
by the sound of hundreds of bones shattering. The cannonballs flew like a
battering ram into the midst of the skeletal warriors, turning thousands of
those skeletal warriors into bone fragments.
Less than a minute later, the first of those
soldiers entered the flood flights provided by the airships. Normally, the
floodlights were used to blind any oncoming enemies. However, they had no
effect on the undead soldiers as they did not rely on sight to sense their
enemies.
Although the first cannon salvo destroyed
thousands of undead soldiers, the gaps were instantly replaced. The undead
soldiers went into a frenzy, The Skeleton Warriors and Wights were rushing at
full speed towards the awaiting musketeer lines, brandishing their iron swords,
spears and axes.
As more and more Undead entered the range of the
ships’ flood lights, the ground itself began to explode. The mortar teams on
the ship and on the ground had begun their shelling. The explosions sent more
undead flying into the air as they shattered into a million pieces. All this
while, the airships did not let up on their bombardment.
The musketeers on the ground began to sweat.
Those at the front could see tens of thousands of undead having their false
life wiped off by the combined bombardment of the airships and mortar team.
Yet, they are still coming in like a tidal wave.
Moments later, the magic tanks began their
attack. Arcs of lightning and fireballs began to whiz off into the night. The
fireballs detonated like small mushroom clouds among the undead soldiers,
turning their targets into charred bone powder. The arcs of lightning pierced
and lit up those wearing metal armor brightly. Those undead that were hit by
it, shattered into pieces.
By this time, the order came.
“Musketeers, take aim!” The squad leader
ordered.
As one, the soldiers braced the butt of the
rifle at their shoulders, and pointed the muzzle to the front.
“Fire!”
Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack
Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack Crack
The sounds of 15,000 gunfire shots added to the
din of both cannon and mortar fire.
“Second line, take position ….and fire.”
The first row of soldiers knelt as their comrades
behind them took up firing positions to fire their weapons.
Another round of simultaneous gunfire erupted.
Each magic rifle propelled a rounded metal
bullet. The bullet flew towards the oncoming horde of undead. The bullet
pierced through layers of undead, shattering ribs and fracturing the bony
limbs. However, it was not as effective as the cannon and mortar bombardment.
Living creatures would undoubtedly have dropped to the ground and screamed in
agony when a small metal ball the size of a marble pierced their body. But the
undead who lacked the ability to feel pain brushed off the damage and continued
rushing towards their foes. It is not like they survived the gunfire unscathed.
Many emerged from the fire, missing a limb or two, their armor plating filled
with bullet holes. Those at the receiving end of a lucky head shot crumbled to
the ground. The grasslands in front of the Empire’s Eastern Army were littered
with pieces of bone fragments, and parts of rotting corpses, illuminated by the
airships flood flights and the occasional flare rounds.
Curvier standing above the flagship looked down
at the seemingly unending wave of undead. The ship crew worked tirelessly,
never ceasing their cannonade.
“Sir, incoming enemy cavalry on both flanks.” One
of his sub-commanders shouted.
“Order our knights to intercept.” Cuvier
ordered. The battle so far was proceeding smoothly. He estimated that he would
experience a loss of ten percent of their entire combat strength by the end of
the skirmish.
Looking down, Cuvier saw the undead horsemen
clashing head on against the armored knights of the Empire. The riders exchange
blows with their long lances, and many were knocked to the ground. As the
undead riders lacked the armor of the Empire’s knights, the Empire came out
victorious from the initial clash. Quite a number of undead horsemen survived
the encounter, heading towards the musketeers. The commanders reacted by
shifting some of the musketeers to face them. The musketeers fired off more
shots towards the incoming riders, destroying more of them. The ones remaining
dashed against the musketeer formation. Many musketeers were pierced by the
long lances or trampled by the hooves of the undead horses. However, the undead
riders numbered too few to cause significant losses.
Then, a new set of order came.
“Fix bayonets!”
The remaining soldiers placed their bayonets on
their rifles, readied by the ensuing melee. The magic tanks began to move
forwards, crushing the oncoming horde of undead soldiers underneath their
treads. Some of those soldiers jumped on top of those tanks, hacking and
bashing the tank’s armor with their swords and axes. While the remaining undead
moved against the other soldiers.
“Charge!!!!!!!”
The musketeers rushed head on against the undead
army with a blood curdling cry. From the flank of the undead horde, came the
sound of hooves, the Empire’s knights rushing in from the flank of the undead
foot soldiers, swiftly cutting down many as they surged against the undead
horde. The surviving undead soldiers went into a melee against the musketeers.
By this time, it was the undead’s turn to be outnumbered.
At this stage, the Carapace Centipede appeared,
10 meters long with a hardened and spiked carapace. Many knights were thrown
off their horses as the armored monstrosity ran into their midst. The centipede
rushed into the fray, lifting itself into the air with its forelegs, and
crashing down onto the defenseless musketeers too focused in their melee. The
armored creatures swung their large bodies like a whip, goring countless
musketeers with their spiked carapace.
When facing such an opponent, the survivors
quickly retreated. The rationale for their actions were apparent moments later
as fireballs rained down from the sky, wrapping the armored monsters in a
blazing inferno.
The musketeers reformed their lines. By this
time, the wave of undead became a trickle and the knights easily finished off
the stragglers. The bombardment had stopped as they were no more concentrated
enemy groups.
A wave of cheering erupted among the soldiers as
the last Wight was turned into a burning corpse. Many were jubilant at their
victory against a numerically superior enemy.
Above them, Cuvier breathed out a sigh of
relief. The battle was over. All they needed to do now was the bombardment of
their enemy’s fortification. However, his stream of thought was interrupted by
a shout.
“Enemy contact!”
From the edge of the flood light, one hundred
armored figures appeared in a single row. Standing at a towering height of 2.3
meters, their left hands held large shields that covered three-quarters of its
body and their right hands were holding a wavy serrated black blade, emitting a
pulsating red-black aura. Their massive bodies were protected by a suit of full
plate black armor, covered in blood red tracings that resembled blood vessels
and spikes. A pair of curved demonic horns sprang from each one’s head. In the
dark, twin points of hateful, murderous malevolence shined brightly from the
eye sockets. As they stepped out into the flood lights, their rotted faces were
in full display. From their mouths, puffs of condensed air came out, as if
their breath super-chilled the warm summer air.
“Death Knights…..” Hilda muttered in fear.
Just with a single glance, Cuvier knew that
those were not your run-of-the-mill monsters. His body shivered as goosebumps
spread all over his body. Yet it did not deter him from shouting his next
order.
“Reform the lines! Cannons at the ready! ”
The soldiers on the ground reassembled
themselves into their original positions, with the magic tanks taking up
position as the vanguard. Just as the tanks finished reforming, the Death
Knights rushed forward like a violent gale of death.
The ships’ cannons began their bombardment
again. However, due to the Death Knights’ nimble movement, many of the shots
missed. It would not be accurate to say that none of the Death Knights were
hit. There were a few lucky rounds that managed to hit their mark. As the shots
came down, dense as raindrops. The few shots that missed exploded on the
ground, creating great plumes of dirt.
The soldiers expected that those towering
monstrosities would crumble as usual like their previous opponents, instead the
cannon balls only bounced of the monsters’ armor. The effect of a direct hit
was only slowing the approaching monsters for a brief second.
Under that constant bombardment, they did not
stop moving forward. Soon, it was the magic tanks’ turn to start their attack.
Once again, lightning arcs and fireballs began to streak towards the Death
Knights. Now, the Death Knights began to dodge the spells, they did not
approach in a straight line. They held their giant kite shield to the front,
shielding their entire body. The spells that managed to hit had as much effect
as the cannon balls.
Many of the tank commanders began to panic, as
even the strongest monster that they had encountered before would falter under
such intensive bombardment. The crews started to pray that the tanks’ armor was
strong enough to protect them.
Soon, under the din of cannon fire, sounds of
cracking began anew as the infantry began firing their rifles. While the cannon
fire and spells could slow them, the bullets fired were akin to hurling pebbles
at a charging rhinoceros, enraging them further.
At a distance of 20 meters, the remaining
mounted cavalry began their charge from the sides, aiming their long metal
lance at those monsters. Many of the knights prayed fervently to their gods,
for their strike to be true and strong, for their lances to pierce their enemy
like in many battles before.
Sure enough, the aim of their lances, targeting
the head were accurate. But what happened was the soldiers who found their mark
flew of their horses as if their lances had just hit a large boulder. The
sudden stop of momentum caused many to be thrown off from their horses. Many of
them were trampled mercilessly by their comrades approaching from the back.
Seeing this, some tried to ram the Death Knight
head on. Unfortunately, they and their mounts met a bloody ends, skewering
themselves on the Death Knight’s spiked armor. Even when facing such an
overwhelming attack force, the Death Knights charged on.
Soon, the 100 Death
Knights reached the row of magic tanks. Raising their serrated blades, the
Death Knights slashed at the tanks. The blades acted like a can opener, cutting
through the armor, and revealing the magic caster hidden inside. The response
of the magic casters in face of overwhelming danger reflected their level of
experience.
The novice began to
panic, began to fire their spells at point blank, resulting in them unwittingly
being caught by the effects of their own spells. Many of the magic casters,
howled in agony as they lay injured at the wreckage of their own tank, burn by
acid from their ‘Acid Javelin’ or flames from their ‘Fireball’.
While the more level headed veterans cast
healing spells on their injured comrades, some even invoked ‘Frost’, hoping to
freeze the Death Knight, rooting them to the spot as they made their escape.
However, just like all the spells they casted earlier, the Death Knight
shrugged it off, breaking off the sheets of ice forming around their bodies.
Their actions when facing the Death Knights
determined their outcome. The Death Knights grabbed at those who resisted
fairly well, out of the tank as they screamed and cursed. The cursing soon
turned into howls of pain as the Death Knights proceeded to break both their
legs before dragging them screaming back towards where they came. Curvier saw
the same scene repeated all over the battlefield. In some cases, teams of four
Death Knights began to break the armored treads of the tanks instead before
carrying off the entire tank like spoils of war with each of them holding onto
a corner.
The musketeers could not do a single thing to
stop them. Notwithstanding the differences in fighting strength, the musketeers
were thrown into disarray as some of the Death Knights broke through their
formation and began to bash the soldiers around with their large shields.
What in the blazes?
At a glance, Cuvier’s blood froze, he understood
his enemy’s intention perfectly. The enemy is trying to obtain their tank
technology and the right people with the knowledge, and experience to operate
them.
Would they stop with just the tanks?
With that sudden realization, Cuvier bellowed
with anger.
“Sentries double the alert! Keep an eye out for
any enemy boarders!”
Many of his sub-commanders hesitated for a
second before passing on the order. The chances of someone approaching from the
air without being spotted was unlikely. In the war with the demi-humans, their
airship fleet suffered tremendous losses due to the quick and covert attacks
from the demi-humans’ glider teams. Now, they had sentry teams posted around
the ship to be alert for any attackers. Although many of them were shaken by
the skirmish on the ground, they were still confident that they were safe here as
no one would be able to approach them without them knowing.
Their false sense of security was broken by a
familiar voice.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
Percy and Cuvier turned around, and their
attention was focused towards the middle of the ship. Standing there were two
familiar figures in white robes. It was Azrael and Anael. Under more peaceful
circumstances, Percy would appreciate the scene. With their black feathered
wings extended, both Azrael and Anael looked like angels that descended from
heaven. A few of the soldiers looked like they had half a mind to kneel and
pray for mercy. Percy looked into those yellow vertical beast-like pupils and
knew that mercy would not be part of their agenda for the night.
He quickly whipped out the summoning crystal hidden
within this coat and invoked the spell within.
“Spell ‘Unholy Awakening’!” Percy shouted.
The crystal within his hand began to glow with a
bluish dark radiance. High above his airship fleet, twenty large magical
circles appeared. From each magic circle, a creature with a serpentine horned
head emerged from its depths, flapping their large, leathery black wings. Their
bodies were balanced by their thick powerful tails, as they hovered in the air,
generating gusts of strong wind with each beat of their wings. The Death Wyrms
had finally appeared.
Unlike the Skeletal Dragon, which is classified
as a mid-tier undead dragon, the Death Wyrms appeared more like wyverns, with
leathery, claw-like wings replacing the forelimbs of the dragons. Also unlike
their cousins, wyverns possessed a pair of muscular hind-legs and a strong
tail, allowing them to crawl on the ground with unprecedented speed. In
comparison to the Skeletal Dragon, the Death Wyrm is massive, measuring up to
15 meters in height and 40 meters in length from head to tail.
In the lore of Yggdrasil, the Death Wyrm was a
sub-type of wyvern that was corrupted by the essence of the undead, allowing
them to be harnessed and utilized by those with unholy energy to spread death
at a massive scale. Unlike the other wyvern, the Death Wyrm adorned their body
with the bones of their dead kin like armor, granting those flying
monstrosities with high physical resistance.
The Death Wyrm is a rather formidable opponent.
As its ultimate attack, the ‘Unholy Breath’, consists of an ability that
allowed them to blanket a wide area with a deadly smog that chokes the life out
of any living thing within seconds. The Death Wyrm would then proceed to feed
on the souls of the dead, leaving the husks of their unfortunate victims to
turn into zombies. The Death Wyrm would get stronger with every soul it
consumed. In Yggdrasil, the Death Wyrm is a particularly nasty opponent, due to
its AOE attack. Any player who died under the hands of the Death Wyrm would
raise the Death Wyrm’s level instantly, the players who died would also suffer
a greater level reduction penalty after respawning due to the Death Wyrm’s
feeding on the player’s soul. The penalty could be negated if the player was
equipped with divine-tier resurrection items.
Underneath their horned helmet, each Death Wyrm
had their electrical blue eyes focused on that one person, Percy, who was their
summoner. Pale glowing blue mist were emitted from their opened mouths.
The battlefield became quiet at the sudden
appearance of those twenty flying monstrosities. Even the soldiers on the
ground directed their gaze towards the sky at the legendary monsters that once
caused a national scale disaster in the East thirty years ago. All of them were
rooted to the spot by fear, fearing those monsters would sweep down on them if
they started to run. Even the few Death Knights that remained, stopped their
attacks as the Death Wyrms appeared. The others had retreated back to the
mansion, with their spoils of war.
Suddenly, one of the Death Wyrms swooped down,
instantly crushing two Death Knights with its powerful hind legs, while
avoiding stepping on the musketeers on the ground. That Death Wyrm gave out a
deafening roar before chomping its mouth on a third Death Knight, crushing it
with its powerful jaws. Another three Death Knights tried a sneak attack from
the rear, only for them to be swatted away by the Death Wyrm’s powerful tail.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
A loud maniacal laughter came from above the
flagship. Percy was laughing at the prowess displayed by one of the twenty
Death Wyrms under his control. His sense of panic earlier was replaced by a
feeling of elation at his new found power. The realization that his dreams of
gaining the throne, no, the world was not too far off.
I am invincible. No one can stop me now. Let my
vengeance begin.
“Let everyone in this world know of my power.”
Percy shouted confidently.
The people surrounding Percy, whom were frozen
with fear moments earlier, began to clap loudly, as if rallying behind their
prince. Many applauded out of a sense of fear in the face of overpowering
strength. Some clapping were thinking that their wildest ambitions could be
achieved if they threw their support behind their fourth prince.
The latter group began to a shout, “Emperor
Percy! Emperor Percy! Emperor Percy! Emperor Percy!”
This was soon joined by the others. Even the
soldiers on the ground joined their voices. The Death Wyrms join the chorus of
cheers with their roaring.
Unnoticed by them, only a handful people did not
join in the cheering, among them were Azrael, Anael, Hilda and one of Percy’s
knights.
After several minutes, Percy soon raised his
hands to stop his people from cheering further. With a smug expression, he
looked at Azrael and his sister, hoping to see the face of a person who
regretted his foolish action. But what he saw instead was a smiling Azrael and
Anael, they looked like they were belittling him. Their expression greatly
infuriated Percy as they reminded Percy of his brothers just as he was cast out
from the capital. As he was about to send a mental order for his Death Wyrms to
attack.
“It’s time I end this little charade. Skill,
master of undead < Overlord’s Dominion >.” Azrael whispered.
Just then, Percy felt something change, he could
not tell what. However, he ignored it and shouted his order angrily,
“Death Wyrms, kill these two!!!”
But the Death Wyrms did not budge an inch, all
of them remained where they were. Looking at their inaction, Percy began
to sweat as he repeated his order.
“Death Wyrms. As your master, I order you to
destroy Azrael and Anael.”
Then, Percy realized that the mental link he
shared with the Death Wyrms earlier was absent. He turned towards Azrael who
began to grin this time. He began to howl in despair as he was trying to tear
his hair out, as he realized what happened. As if confirming Percy’s worst fear,
Azrael ordered.
“Death Wyrm, pick up the remaining Death Knights
and return to the mansion.”
As one, all twenty Death Wyrms flew towards the
ground, picking up any remaining Death Knights before heading towards the
direction of Azrael’s mansion.
Azrael walked towards the railing of the ship,
revealing himself in plain sight to everyone present.
“Gentlemen, thank you for volunteering your
bodies for the creation of my grand army. To show my appreciation for your
selfless sacrifice tonight, I shall be merciful to most of you here by granting
a painless death. Now, I bid you all adieu.”
Azrael looked at Anael who nodded at him before
he cast a spell.
“What…..” Before Percy could utter a single word
of protest, Azrael invoke his spell.
“Melded magic, ‘Holy Tempest’.”
With that, a single gigantic pillar of lightning
came down from the night sky, slamming on the ground, lighting the entire area
brighter than day. Multiple bursts of smaller arcs of electrical destruction
emerged from the central pillar, spreading along the ground and in the air
forming a rounded dome-shaped canopy, enveloping the entire invading army in a
dome-like tempest.
The arcs of lightning spread through the ranks,
electrocuting every single surviving soldier on the ground. None were spared,
be it men or animals. The lightning arcs overwhelmed the magical barrier of the
surviving magic tanks, turning the tanks into giant metallic conductors as the
lightning wave dispersed through the ground. Needless to say, the crew suffered
instantaneous death. None had the chance to experience pain as the overwhelming
surge of current fried their brains and nerves instantly, true to Azrael’s
word.
In the air, the people within the flagship
trembled uncontrollably as the lightning destruction danced around them. The
airships shared the same fate as the people on the ground. Multiple arcs of
lightning pierced through the hull of the ships, superheating the structure and
causing them to explode violently. The crews of those ill-fated airships were
thrown into the air by the explosion. Thankfully, all were spared a painful
death from falling from a height as all of them had lightning arcs course
through them, using their bodies as conductors.
Miraculously, the flagship was spared from
destruction as none of the electrical arcs hit them, as if the ship was
floating in the eye of the storm. Her crew trembled violently as they witnessed
the tempest of destruction and death that waltzed around them.
The storm lasted for half a minute before
dissipating completely. With that, the destruction was apparent for everyone to
see especially the surviving members of the flagship. The entire area was
littered with the remains of the Eastern Army. Here and there, airship
wreckages dotted the area along with the burned hulks of the magic tanks.
With that, many dropped to their knees in front
of Azrael, crying and begging for mercy.
“Nii-san, let’s not kill them. I have a use for
extra survivors.” Anael gave out a beautiful goddess like smile as she asked
her brother.
“Understood, I’ll leave it to you to decide on
how to use them.” Azrael accented to his sister’s request.
Many people including Percy gave a weak smile as
they realized that their impending doom had been averted. Many high ranking
officials like Percy were under the impression that they were to be used as
bargaining chips in future negotiations with the Empire.
“Pumpkin Jack, report to my position at once.”
Anael seemed like she was whispering to the air.
Moments later, a circular portal formed behind
Anael. A person, no, it would be more accurate to say that a humanoid creature
with a pumpkin head in a butler uniform emerged from it, following from behind
him were a group of short red panda-like demi-humans in butler uniforms.
Several gasped at the sight of the Ushan butlers. But, many more of the
survivors were shocked by the bizarre appearance of the pumpkin headed butler.
The newly arrived party bowed to both Azrael and
Anael.
“Jack, you have done well to manage the tomb
under my absence. To that, I am grateful for your efforts. As a reward, I will
permit you to gather intelligence from the captives I have chosen, use your
preferred method.” Azrael told Pumpkin Jack as he gestured towards Percy and
gang.
“Truly, Azrael-sama?! Oh, it has been so long.
Please accept my gratitude, Azrael-sama.”
Due to his vegetable-like head, it is hard for
Pumpkin Jack to display any form of emotion. During a conversation, his eye
sockets and mouth will glow with every single word uttered. He bowed again to
Azrael before turning to the captives, surveying every single of them.
“Decision…….De..ci...sions…..” Jack soon laid
his eyes at Cuvier.
From the look of Cuvier’s eyes, he knew that he
would be the first to be interrogated.
“You have mistaken that I could be taken without
a fight, you monster!” Cuvier bellowed as he drew out his saber.
“By all means, resist all you want. But the
outcome will be as expected.” Pumpkin Jack replied nonchalantly as he walked
towards Cuvier, who was poised for a fight.
As Jack arrived within striking distance, Cuvier
lunged at him, slashing diagonally across the chest of Jack with both his arms
as if trying to cut out the heart of Pumpkin Jack. However, Jack responded by
catching both of Cuvier’s wrists with one hand. A crack was audible.
It was a surreal scene as those thin,
branch-like arms easily crushed Cuvier’s thickset wrists. Cuvier fought back a
painful gasp as Pumpkin Jack easily twisted his arms around like holding onto a
twig.
“Let us begin, shall we…..” Jack announce
menacingly.
Before Cuvier could say a thing, Jack’s head
flew off from his body and affixed itself over Cuvier’s head. Strong muffled
cries could be heard from within Jack’s head as if Cuvier was trying to scream
his lungs out. Undoubtedly, this was due to the proboscis that was piercing,
into Cuvier’s skull and into his brain.
“There, there, it will be over soon. The pain
will soon go away. ” Jack sounded like he was consoling a baby. Within moments,
the muffled cries stopped and Cuvier’s body slacken, just as Jack’s original
headless body released his grip on Cuvier hand. A sense of vigor seemed to
return to Cuvier’s body as its new owner decided to take it for a spin.
“Got to do something about the body fat….. But
the brain…..Ah, not a bad mind, not a bad mind indeed.” Jack was chuckling to
himself as he stood in a thinking posture.
“Please take the captives to the holding cells.”
Jack ordered the butlers he brought along.
Seeing this, the faces of Cuvier’s officers
turned pale. Some tried to put up a fight, but they were easily subdued by the
Ushan butlers. A few even tried to beg Azrael and Anael while on their knees,
hoping to be spared from such an ending.
“Well then, Jack. Turn these few over to my dear
sister Akasha, they will serve as a renewable food source for the Vampire
Brides serving her. Order her kin not to cause any unnecessary pain to them as
it will deteriorate the blood quality.” Anael passed Jack her instructions.
The begging captives were dragged away,
screaming and crying, into the portal in which Jack arrived.
Seeing this, Percy’s mouth trembled. He realized
that he would most likely share a fate worse than they did. His body shaking
and sweating, he furiously tried to think of any possible way of salvaging this
debacle.
I could suggest my usefulness as a bargaining
chip for the Empire or even better putting the blame solely on father and
brother and I would gladly be one of Azrael’s collaborators. Yes, that could
work.
“Please, I beg for your mercy, Azrael-sama. I
was under orders by my father. As a son and also a subject of the Empire, I
cannot disobey his direct edict.” Percy prostrated in front of Azrael.
“Do not lie. You made the decision on your own
accord, motivated by your greed and lust.” Azrael’s eyes narrowed as he stared
at Percy’s face.
Percy could only open and close his mouth in a
panic as his lie was discovered. The beads of sweat on his face turned into a
stream. He had no choice but to use his last resort.
“The Empire will not let this matter stand. What
you are doing will start a war between our countries!” Percy shouted in a false
act of bravado.
“Have you conveniently forgotten about your
attempted assassination earlier? Your schemes provided me with the casus
belli to treat the Empire as a hostile nation. Plus, no one back home
knows you are here…. You have made sure of it, haven’t you, Astrape and
also…….Hilda?” Azrael redirected his attention to two people standing behind
Percy.
“Yes, Onii-sama.” One of Percy’s guards
answered. Moments later, his appearance began to melt away like clay, his, no
her features eventually turned into a raven hair beauty with obsidian black
eyes. Eyes that looked at Percy as if she was looking at a maggot, with pure
disgust as she returned to her brother’s side.
“As instructed, Azrael-sama.” Hilda kneeled in
front of Azrael and lowered her head.
Percy felt as if he had the wind knocked out of
him. Hilda was the last person on his mind that would betray him. She was the
one who gave him the information about all the artifacts in the house. She was
the one who suggested the plan of gaining control over the mansion and taking
the power there for himself. Then, it hit him.
“Impossible, since…. when ……how?” Percy began to
mumble.
“Truthfully, she did not volunteer for it…… We
had to be more direct with our persuasion. Isn’t that right, Hilda?” Azrael
smiled sheepishly as he looked at Hilda.
Hilda stood up as she turned towards Percy. He
noticed that she took out a ring that was on her finger. Hilda’s appearance
shifted slightly. Her previous brunette hair became black. The color of her
skin turned into a milky white tinge. But the most visible changes was to her
eyes, her pupils became blood red while the white sclera turned black. Her eyes
were just like Valamere’s now. Percy understood what happened.
“I serve a higher power now……” Hilda declared as
she walked towards Percy. He noticed her eyes was focused on someone standing
to Percy’s right. Percy shifted his gaze to his right and his heart skipped a
beat.
It was Akasha, and standing to her right and slightly
to the back was the now vampiric Valamere himself.
“Mistress……” Hilda once again prostrated but
this time to the platinum haired monster who turned Valamere into a vampire.
“You have done well……” Akasha praised her.
That simple praise still managed to cause
Hilda’s body to shake with great joy.
“Thank you, mistress. I will work harder from
now.”
“See that you do.” Akasha gazed sharply at her.
The look seemed to convey the missing half of her sentence, or else.
Hilda now proceeded take up position on Akasha’s left side.
“Why…..why are you doing this? What do you hope
to achieve by starting a war?” Percy was trying hard to appeal to Azrael’s
logic.
“Livestock does not need to know so much. Just
be a good animal and produce fresh tasty blood for my sister. She rarely has
the chance to get a taste of royalty, for such a treat rarely presents itself.
Unless, you prefer to share the same fate as Cuvier? That I can arrange.”
Azrael answered cheerfully.
Despair welled up within Percy’s mind as he
would be treated no different than the cows in a ranch. He gave an utter cry of
despair before trying desperately to escape by jumping over the railing of the
floating airship.
Before, he could even take more than two step.
He was caught in a neck lock by Valamere who proceeded to drop him back in
front of Akasha.
“Love you so much, onii-sama. I am gonna have so
much fun with him.” Akasha hugged her brother tightly.
“Remember to keep him well-fed, okay? Do not
dispose of him if you are tired of him. You can pass him to your servants as a
reward to them.” Azrael reminded Akasha.as he briefly looked at Valamere and
Hilda, who promptly bowed with respect.
“Understood, onii-sama. I will give him his just
desserts.” Akasha grinned happily before she snapped her fingers. Valamere
seemed to understand the wordless order of his mistress, and he proceeded to
drag Percy like a sack of potatoes, as he screamed and cried out for mercy,
through the Portal just like the others earlier.
Percy was not alone as his personal knights who
were with him during the stay in the R’lyeth Manor joined him.
Be glad that you still retain your life, vermin.
You have my gratitude for delivering the sacrifice I require. Now, you can
spend your miserable life to be food for my sister.
Azrael mused to himself. He then turned his
attention towards the remaining crewmen. Many were holding onto their religious
necklace, praying fervently for salvation. Many of the younger ones had wet
themselves with fear as the strong smell of ammonia hung around them. Their
fellow crew members paid them no heed as they were more focused on a more
immediate peril.
“Now then, about the rest of you…….”
Azrael turned his attention towards the
remaining crewmen. In the darkness of night, a pair of red glimmers surfaced
within his yellow pupils.
Blood drained from the faces of the crewman as
they were about to receive their judgement. Most of them foresaw a lifetime of
torture awaiting them and many were on the verge of killing themselves.
But contrary to their expectations………..
“Let’s sign a contract.”
Huh?
Azrael’s unexpected offer caused many to exclaim
silently in their minds.
-End of Chapter 7-
Character Note.
As a heteromorphic being, Pumpkin Jack is a
hybrid between a Brain Eater and a Plant-man. The characteristics of his Brain
Eater race are hidden within his pumpkin head. When it latches onto his
unfortunate victims, metal like proboscis needles will pierce through the
victim’s cranium, allowing Jack to take control of his victim’s movement.
Additionally, he can access their memories and thought processes as he slowly
consumes their brain, eventually reducing them into mindless walking meat
puppets. Wearing a helmet would only slightly delay Jack from taking over as
his proboscis can excrete an acidic mucus that would burn through the metal,
allowing him to access that which he desires the most, Brainnzzz.
