Gamble for Azeroth 26 (Patreon)

During his previous trip, Arvis had made sure never to pass through Thondoril river, which separated Eastern Lordaeron from Central Lordaeron … with Andorhal and Hearthglen being two centers of population for Central Lordaeron.

Andorhal was lost … but the same might not be true for Hearthglen. Previously, the crowded undead presence prevented him from checking that area, but he hoped that there might be others that had moved there.

As he passed the river, he couldn’t help but feel depressed. What he was passing through was the hinterland of Lordaeron. He remembered the last time he had traveled those lands, when he had been assigned to Stratholme garrison.

He remembered finding it boring, filled with endless farmlands intersected by occasional rivers.

The farmlands were all dead; the limited life energy of the grains and other farm products was unable to resist the necrotic energy of the undead as much as the forests. The peasants were gone as well, though he had no idea whether those peasants had been killed and raised, or managed to escape.

The only reason he had any hope was the determination of the Scourge army. He still had no idea why they were determined to invade elven lands, but it was enough to give him hope that, maybe, they were other survivors.

Even if the worst happened and there were no survivors, with Scourge stripping its forces to commit them to their elven attack, their rear would be vulnerable. The undead might not need to eat, but they still had their own version of a logistic chain … only leagues more horrifying.

A logistical chain that he was uniquely equipped to destroy.

“The only problem, fucking farmlands,” he muttered. Unlike the forests, ordinary wheat lacked the resilience to resist the necrotic energy that every undead radiated just by existing.

No plants, no detection through Bloom.

Without a network of living plants, his primary detection method had survived. Luckily, the plant life hadn’t been completely gone. Several shrubs and some of the more stubborn trees survived, giving him a hint of direction.

Then, he found something promising. There was no rowing undead presence, and the first few bases he had found had actual patrols.

It was important because it implied the existence of resisting forces. Otherwise, they would have been pulled into the main assault.

The first base he encountered was modest. A clearing where some ruined town had once stood, now occupied by perhaps thirty acolytes, two necromancers, an abomination, and a few hundred ghouls operating in strange synchronization.

Acolytes and necromancers were busy enacting their rituals at the edge of the town, using the cemetery to raise even more undead.

When he first started raiding, he probably would have spent an hour observing their operation to determine the best approach. This time, he just approached from the bottom of a cliff, using Suppression to keep his presence suppressed.

Necromancers, already distracted by the ritual, never even realized they were under attack. A slash had been enough to kill them, and the acolytes died soon after. Ghouls, without the control of anyone else, had been demolished in less than a minute.

Just like that, a macabre supply point for the undead had fallen. Then, he continued searching, his Momentum allowing him to move faster and faster, demolishing them before they could even send news.

To his surprise, there was no response, making him suspect that the Lich King’s attention had limits. He didn’t know how much, but regardless of its ultimate size, it was clear that the attack on the elven lands was enough to distract them.

He needed to destroy as many bases as possible before he realized his strategic mistake.

&&&

He had destroyed about twenty raising fields when he finally felt a different location in the distance. A larger base, carrying the suffocating presence of tens of thousands of undead … with occasional different presences, one that didn’t just kill the plants but actively tortured them.

Demons.

It was ironic that he found himself glad for their presence, because their warped energies meant some plants had survived despite the undead presence. This time, he didn’t rush in, because unlike the other bases, this one was ambitious.

For one, it was actually built on a leyline, one that had likely been created or at least widened by some evil means because the mana density was surprisingly high.

More importantly, at the center, the acolytes were building a familiar building. A necropolis, one of their huge floating platforms. He had seen a few of them along the northern shore, patrolling the seas.

That was not the only evil ritual that was going on. He could see other necromancers building some intricate ritual areas, important enough to get the attention of not only fifteen necromancers but also led by a lich.

He gulped. His knowledge about Scourge was limited, but even he knew that only really strong mages, the kind with power high enough to qualify as an archmage could handle the transformation.

What he caught was the presence of about thirty human prisoners, all trapped in a pen near the ritual site. Important human prisoners, he decided, even though that conclusion relied only on the effort the undead was putting in.

He was confident in that conclusion. The presence of living captives, when the Scourge killed millions without blinking, meant something specific. Something important enough to keep a lich and more than a dozen necromancers busy while their forces were busy trying to invade Quel’Thalas was something he needed to prevent.

The problem: he couldn’t delay, nor could he slowly whittle down the enemy. He needed something more urgent, but cleverer than just rushing forward.

“It looks like it’s finally time to use my bag of Uber Fertilizer,” he muttered, deciding the excrement of a supposed eldritch beast against demons made a certain poetic sense. That would create an excellent distraction.

Disguising himself as an acolyte had been easy, mostly because the construction efforts were intense enough that the acolytes were constantly rotating between resting and working.

All he needed was to pull on his cloak and walk. Even better, since the Sword of Judgment came from the System, he could store it in his inventory, meaning its shining presence wouldn’t alert the undead, but he would still stay hidden.

Moreover, thanks to his Winterman trait, he was more than capable of covering himself with a chill, one that almost felt like an undead without actually poisoning himself.

From there, he just walked into the base, his presence going unnoticed. Another acolyte, going unremarked.

He was surprised by the lack of notice at first, but then, the realization hit. The Lordaeron army was either led by Paladins, or Knights whose biggest desire in life was to pass as one. Half of them believed enemies needed to shake hands before a battle to not to be rude, while the other half believed themselves to be strategic geniuses because they charged from the flank rather than a frontal attack.

There, he visited two locations. The first was the large building the acolytes used to rest, and the second one was the graveyard, where the majority of the ghouls waited. He used a quarter of his stock, split between two locations, carefully spreading some of the seeds, their presence too weak to be noticed.

However, he waited to activate until he approached the necropolis under construction. He didn’t enter. Instead, he climbed near a building and threw half of the bag, with several seeds, at the center.

Then, he used Bloom to activate all three locations at once. Holy vines grew in all three locations with shocking speed, the relatively high mana density increasing the challenge even further.

The best part, he didn’t actually have to control those plants. By their nature, plants and necrotic energy already clashed, and his vines had been carefully infused with holy energy, not only making their hatred more intense, but actually causing their refusal.

The ones at the resting spots burst into existence with shocking intensity, coiling around acolytes tight enough to separate limbs. Meanwhile, near the graveyard, the ghouls and the holy vines exploded in a desperate battle.

Most importantly, the vines at the necropolis under construction started digging into accursed stone that had been used in construction, the roots working excellently to shatter the outer layer of the bricks, which weakened the energies significantly.

The lich stopped working on the ritual immediately and rushed to save the necropolis, his accursed magic perfect for killing the vines. Arvis wanted to ambush him, but he waited.

Because the demons waited as well. Arvis lie low as several detection spells passed over him, using Suppression to hide his presence, the mana wave that passed over him not even registering his presence.

The lich was dangerous, but the Nathrezim was worse.

Only after half a dozen detection spells, Nathrezim leave its hiding spot, and even then, its real presence was hidden behind an invisibility spell while an illusionary figure followed behind about eight other demonic figures.

Those demons were tall, each easily over eight feet, carrying some kind of halberd taller than themselves. They were dangerous and threatening.

He waited until they were near. Then, he threw the last remaining quarter of the uber fertilizer to their feet, the vines bursting into existence. The holy light didn’t counter demons directly like it did the undead, but that didn’t matter.

It was just a distraction. He burst into the field, acting as if he were charging toward the illusion of the Nathrezim, his Sword of Judgment in hand, glowing bright enough to turn the night into day.

For all intents and purposes, he was a paladin. Strong, threatening, and … direct. Which was why the Nathrezim wasn’t alerted by the fact that his direct attack path had dragged him near.

The Sword of Judgment blazed with full Retribution channeling, and his strike came down in a single overhead cut that delivered more force than he had ever managed in his life.

The demon turned. Too late.

The blade struck where the wing-joint met the spine. The Sword of Judgment's enchantment, amplified by the intensity of the light he could channel and his Epic strength trait, bisected the Nathrezim before it could realize what was going on.

"You... cannot..." it gasped, the words emerging in a voice that no longer carried the cultured menace of its earlier presence. "I am... a herald... of the Legion..."

Just to be on the safe side, he still beheaded the demon and split its body into several pieces before it even fell down. Then, he ignored the tall demons and rushed toward the lich, who predictably reacted by creating a wall of ice between them.

He could have jumped over it, but instead, he changed his direction, Momentum allowing him to run toward the ritual site far faster than anyone else. Necromancers, still busy with the ritual field, reacted too late.

Then, he moved to the cage, and saw that it was filled with people, some wearing chains and glowing runes that repelled mana. Either priests or paladins, he guessed, considering he could still feel the presence of the light from them.

They were also at death’s door, each had wounds that had been carefully inflicted to keep them there, with several runes etched into their skin through cuts.

“The keys are with the lich—” the woman in the center gasped, but Arvis didn’t bother searching. The cage itself was thick, but it was made of ordinary metal, and mana-blocking chains had too many weak points.

Well, at least for someone with his raw strength.

A few strategic swipes with a rock were all that was needed to shatter them.

“Which one of you is the strongest healer?” he asked. Everyone turned to the woman in the center. He tightened his grip on the Sword of Judgment, focused on the light as tightly as he could manage, and cast a healing spell on her, enough to deal with the worst of her injuries.

“Who are you?” the woman asked, even as she felt the light closing her wounds slowly.

“I’m Lord Godwyn. Apparently the only noble in this damn land actually caring enough to risk his life to save people. How about you all start working for me?” he offered, even as the light spilled over the woman, the energy tight.

It was rude, but he decided that the opportunity was too good to miss.

Especially since if he was correct, and they were paladins, there was a chance that he would get more rewards.

“Why not? It’s not like enough of the Silver Hands had survived to matter,” she said with an almost irrelevant attitude, but Arvis didn’t miss the intensity of her tone. “As long as you fight against the undead, I, Erin Blaumeux, formerly of the Silver Hand, declare my loyalty.”

[Feat Achieved! Recruit Lady Blaumeux

+1x Gold Advantage Random Gacha ticket]

His eyes widened. Another named recruit. Even as he did that, the others echoed her vow of loyalty.

[Feat Achieved! Recruit a paladin

+1x Silver Advantage Random Gacha ticket]

[Feat Achieved! Recruit ten paladins

+1x Silver Advantage Random Gacha ticket]

[Feat Achieved! Recruit ten priests

+1x Silver Advantage Random Gacha ticket]

Four tickets. An incredible reward. “How much time you need to heal each other?” he asked.

“A minute. Maybe two,” she said.

“Good. You have your first order, then. Survive while I keep that ugly bag of bones occupied,” he said.

As he walked away, he started activating his rewards.

He started with a silver ticket.

[Select one!]

[Mysticism]

{Rare Trait: Your energy reserves and recovery speeds are beyond the norm. Allowing you to use abilities and spells for longer.}

[Myrtenaster]

{Uncommon Item: RWBY - "Don't even try to spell it." is a mechashift revolver rapier with 6 slots for dust rounds. By activating a dust cartridge, the rapier can cut with flames or even freeze depending on the dust used. You get 6 dust rounds per day of a specified dust type of your choice.}

He knew what a revolver was. It was some kind of blackpowder weapon, used by gnomes. The description suggested it was superior to their usual weapons somewhat, but when compared to larger mana reserves, there was not even a question.

The moment he picked, he felt his reserves expand; and the change was incredible. Previously, his reserves were just above nonexistent, yet in a second, they expanded. Guessing the direct scale was difficult, but his best guess, it was more than Allerton, but less than Sally.

Either way, it was a treasure. More importantly, it was only the first reward.

[Select one!]

[The Cursed Ticket]

{Uncommon Item: "Fancy your chances?" A ticket that, when torn, spins the Curse Roulette for the user, and automatically applies the result and the ticket they would have gotten to the recipient.}

[Literacy]

{Uncommon Skill: You know how to read effectively, you'd be shocked at how few people possess this skill. You know all common and mundane languages of the world you are in, and are very skilled at reading books and grimoires, allowing you to read them much faster and digest the information inside of them better.}

Literacy was relatively underwhelming, but he still picked it, as the last thing he wanted was to risk a curse.

At least if he could find his way to Windrunner library once again, he would benefit greatly.

[Select one!]

[Shadow Claws]

{Uncommon Ability: Allows you to conjure sharp and lightweight Shadow Claws on top of your hands that can slash opponents. You can also extend their length and sharpness with training.}

[ColorS]

{Common Item: Fairy Tail - A small book-like magic item that allows the holder to change the color scheme of their clothing by sliding their finger over its surface.}

Close to a dud, but he picked Shadow Claws even though he suspected he would use them very rarely, if ever. At least it allowed him to make progress toward unlocking another ability slot.

Then, there was the Gold ticket.

[Select one!]

[Exorcist]

{Rare Trait: You are an Exorcist, an agent of the Heavenly Realm, a profession specialising in destroying spiritual beings and demons with the Holy attribute. You have an increased affinity towards Holy, Spiritual and Light and learning magic from those disciplines. You can also sense nearby unholy and spiritual entities, whether to give them a peaceful passing or a painful eviction from the material realm.}

[Dread Knight]

{Elite Trait: Race Change - You are a Dread Knight, a Higher Caste of Undead specialising in Direct Martial Combat. As a Dread Knight, you have very potent physical abilities as well as virtually unlimited stamina, the only thing you need to sustain yourself with is Energy. You are naturally capable of using the ability [Dread Blade] and possess great Necromancy, Darkness and Martial Affinity, augmenting the potency of related abilities, skills and magic. But you are rendered vulnerable to Holy and Light-based abilities and magic.}

He was almost amused at the selection. One was seemingly determined to push him even closer to his fake identity as a paladin, while the other once again offered a cursed existence.

Naturally, he picked Exorcist, even though he was afraid of the selection somehow changing his mindset. Not too much, because just like it had been with the Sword of Judgment, Gacha warned him about the potential drawbacks.

Still, as the Exorcist trait transformed his body, he carefully examined the transformation, Adept Conceptualization working overtime to catch any changes.

The conclusion, no direct drawbacks.

Excellent.

“Let’s put those new rewards to the test,” he muttered excitedly as he took a deep breath, using Total Concentration Breath to refill his expanded reserves, the elevated mana density of the ritual site helping him.

The lich tried to direct all the remaining forces toward the ritual site, but Arvis ignored those for a moment, and instead rushed toward the lich, and swung his blade.

For the first time, he had enough mana to actually replicate the trick he had taught Sally, and a slash of light departed his blade. The lich, not expecting ranged attacks from a paladin, lost one of his bony arms, and as he continued to approach, he collapsed.

Arvis frowned. Even without the elevated senses his newest Exorcist trait had given him, he could have sensed that the lich hadn’t been killed, but just vacated his body, his soul going back.

Still, it was far greater than he could have hoped. He once again ignored the demonic guards and instead went toward the collapsed acolyte base, pulling whatever weapons he could gather and dropping them with Lady Blaumeux and the rest of her team.

With the threat of the lich and the Nathrezim gone, he had the time to cast another round of healing spells on them, this time even stronger thanks to Exorcist giving him even greater proficiency with the light, not to mention his greatly expanded reserves thanks to Mysticism.

Cleaning the rest of the undead had been almost too easy. About thirty experienced paladins and priests against the mindless undead had been easy. Especially since they were strong. Erin Blaumeux, in particular, was not only devastatingly strong, but also experienced.

Of course, that left one question. How the hell they had been captured in the first place…