TLQ 48. The First Law of the Dead (Patreon)

XLVIII The First Law of the Dead Hell descended after Malakai and the others made it halfway towards the first level of the underground. ‘Du

XLVIII

The First Law of the Dead

Hell descended after Malakai and the others made it halfway towards the first level of the underground.

‘Duck!’ Ian yelled.

Malakai removed his head just in time for the arrow to sail past him and into an orc’s throat instead. The death was barely a fraction in the numbers flowing forth from the tunnel ahead of them. Tunnel walls quaked with the roars and battle cries, aiding the advancing horde horde in pushing down the fear of death. Radi’s ghouls needn’t push the fear down—they simply knew not of its existence. They slammed into the tide. Claws rend orc flesh off the bone, frozen breastplates clashed with axeheads powered with brute force…and won. The orcs the ghouls slayed rose to their feet moments later.

Tina started firing magic missiles on command, felling enemies with each blast. Whenever she wasn’t killing, she blocked the volley of a shaman at the rear of the orc vanguard.

Malakai’s heart rate lowered a beat. We can do this. They still had Radi’s Undead Horde to get out of a pinch, but if the orcs kept coming in waves, they wouldn’t need it.

Malakai stepped around an overhead blow. The orc’s swing left it overextended, making its neck easy prey. Blood flowed, glad to finally be free from its mortal shell.

‘Push forward!’ Malakai yelled.

His party advanced towards the intersection, where orcs poured from all exits. They’d need to bust straight through and take a staircase up. If they passed the next floor as well, they’d be on the first floor. From there it was but a home stretch.

But those two levels may as well have been a world away. The reinforcements kept coming.

We’re lucky they can’t overrun us. The tunnels were too cramped for that. It’s why the orc at the rear was just standing around, letting his brethren rush forward while never taking his gaze off him. It was a head taller than its kin and a whole shoulder broader. But what stuck out the most was the skin colour, which wasn’t wholly green, but a shade of brown.

He’s waiting for me. Malakai danced around a strike and retaliated with a reverse cut that severed an artery. The orc was quick to fall.

His mind went to the core in his pocket, which burned his skin without touching it. This orc was strong. Malakai sensed its desire to duel…but it wasn’t Hammond. Malakai didn’t owe it any respect. That, and losing the demon core would lead to the deaths of more than a few citizens. He couldn’t risk it.

How do I best take care of him? He searched for a solution as the battle continued. The plan formed in his head just as they reached the intersection, where the burly orc was waiting.

Ian fired. The arrow whistled and jammed into the brown orc’s shield, which it raised to reveal a toothy grin. Malakai mirrored the smile. The two warriors pushed through their allies to face each other. Radi’s ghouls eased up on causing mayhem and prepared themselves for the opportunity to come.

‘Human tiny,’ the orc said, his voice clearly audible over the mayhem. ‘No chance.’

‘You’re right,’ Malakai said.

The brown orc laughed. ‘Then die!’

Malakai didn’t wait for the strike. He produced the squire’s core and flicked it in the orc’s direction. The brownskin made to swat it out of the air—

The squire popped into the material realm. The undead steed hovered in mid-air for a moment, then its hooves dented the orc’s head. Malakai grimaced. The orc didn’t die in a single blow, but it must’ve wished it did.

Radi set one of her ghouls on the nearly dead orc and it rose.

The brownskin’s demise riled up its kin. They rushed towards the Squire, who hurriedly dematerialised his mount and fell back under the cover of Ian and Tina.

Behind the enemy lines, four shamans began to chant.

‘Interrupt them!’ Malakai yelled.

Ian had already fired at one, his arrow slipping past the shields of the frontline to find the shaman’s throat. That left three. Tina’s magic missile disrupted another, though the shaman blocked the attack.

Two remained chanting. Their mana built inside their charms, and Malakai’s head inflated as the heat gathered. The tunnel walls seemed to expand.

‘Squire!’ Malakai commanded.

The undead summoned his charger and raced headfirst into the vanguard. There was enough space for four orcs to stand side-by-side, and the orcs at the edge tightened their formation into a wedge, preparing to catch the rider on the horns of the bull. But that gap allowed Radi’s two main ghouls a way in. They bounded forwards with unnatural speed, leaping off the walls and lunging for their magical lunch. An orc made a heroic save and intercepted the first ghoul but the second got past them and politely asked the third shaman to stop casting.

The last shaman cackled. Its charm rose high, the orcs in front of it moving back to target both the squire and the ghouls, who were now boxed in.

‘Tina, protect us—’ before the order left Malakai’s mouth, the undead sorcerer aimed her staff. Because of the shaman’s exaggerated motion, she had a clear visual on the charm and its arms. Both were encased in a protective layer of frost, the same that had kept Malakai from getting hurt numerous times already.

The explosion rocked the tunnel, turning the shaman’s yell of triumph into a scream of anguish. Everyone nearby was knocked off their feet, buying the squire and the ghouls the opportunity to make it out relatively unscathed.

Malakai rushed ahead to finish off the downed orcs.

‘Ian, get ready!’ Malakai yelled. ‘We’re dashing for the exit—’

Enemies coming from your rear, Malakai, the Warden said in his mind.

That was the sole warning Malakai got. He whipped around. The dark blur zipped between the darkness in the tunnel where the torchlight didn’t reach.

‘Behind you!’ Malakai yelled.

Ian didn’t freeze up. He dropped his bow and whipped his blade around him in an arc. It kept the cold steel about to embed itself in his throat at bay, but not the one going for his kneecap.

The frostguard cried and went down. Mage armour formed around Ian’s head, saving him from yet another fatal blow. Then Malakai was there. The captain’s blade cut a gash in the air, biting into whatever creature had attacked his comrade and forcing it back. Radi and Tina arrived too, and together they dragged Ian towards the other undead.

As they did, skulking figures exited the shadows. Hooded, wearing cloaks made specifically for their size. They were disgusting, little creatures with skin equally as green as that of the orcs. But their faces were crooked. Misshapen. Mockeries of anything considered human.

Ian got to his feet, swallowing his pain.

‘No rest for the dead,’ Malakai grinned.

‘That’s…fuck,’ he cried, ‘…not funny. I deserve my rest.’

‘I’ll make your bed for you when we get home,’ Malakai said.

The green monsters inched closer. There were dozens of them.

On the other side, Malakai heard the roars of more orcs filtering through the tunnel.

Ian grit his teeth. ‘You may need to give the core to one of the ghouls. They may be able to out run the orcs.’

‘They can,’ Malakai said, ‘but they cannot exit Radi’s range. They won’t make it to the abyss.’

Ian chuckled, hopping in place to position himself. ‘So the hard way it is.’

The hard way it was.

‘Radi,’ Malakai said, raising his blade.

The apprentice raised her charm, and the undead horde rose to their feet.

My laughter rippled through the chamber as I stared at the message before me:

Law of Necrofrost (Seed) gained. Skill points awarded for achievement.

A seed. The beginning of a concept. My laughter reached a crescendo.

‘Could you let me in on the joke, Lady Dread?’ Gore'ter said. My mirth drew a smile out of him.

‘No, I just—’ I wiped at my eyes, which held no tears ‘—I suppose I should thank you, Gore'ter.’

‘Thank me?’

‘Yes. This fight with you has allowed me to realise something—’

I inhaled even though the dead required no breath. And even though the dead had no sense of temperature, I thought the air shooting into my lungs was colder.

‘—about the nature of ice.’

Within the slowly reforming fog, Gore'ter waltzed forward, his mana-levels rising. ‘An insight? Ice is not a profound element like death, Lady Dread. It’s just ice. Some cold given shape. What could you possibly have gleamed to get you so ecstatic?’

A soft smile crept up my lips. ‘How shortsighted.’

Sepharin K. Vrost =

{

Skills =

 [Lesser Frost Necromancy, Minor Frost Manipulation, Minor Miasma Control,

Minor Necromancy, Frostmancy]

Racials =

[Icy Veins, Goliath, Overbearing, Callous, Vorst]

Laws =

[Necrofrost (Seed)]

Miasma =

780 /1340

Skill Points =

13

Skills Menu=

[

[Minor Frost Necromancy] (2 points)[Frost Manipulation] (5 points)

[Necromancy] (5 points)

[Greater Frostmancy] (10 points)

[Miasma Control] (5 points)

]

}

Are you certain you want to upgrade the skill [Frostmancy]?

Skill upgraded!

Frostmancy -> Greater Frostmancy

Death and frost rushed from my core, not as two separate energies, but as a single entity.

The necrofrost shot into my limb, and a metallic sheen crawled up the frozen exterior. The energies fused together perfectly, as if they had always been part of each other. Sharp digits became razors. Hard yet moldable. Cold and deadly.

Gore watched the transformation happen with something akin to amusement.

‘Ice is not profound?’ I whispered, gazing upon my new weapon. Perhaps Gore sensed the calm and relaxation that washed over me, for he stilled. I felt like I was floating in a tranquil lake. ‘If it shields and preserves death like a mother does their child, if it swallows and dominates an entire Duchy, forcing its inhabitants to their knees, how can it not be profound?’

Frostmancy and necromancy. Until now, I’d considered them different schools of magic. But frost was linked to the darker element like no other two fields of magic were.

Gore snorted. ‘I was hoping for something a little more…grand, Lady Dread. I fail to see how an arm upgrade will help you.’ He raised his staff, fires dancing down the shaft—

Breathing was important for a mage: circulation helped them regulate their flow of mana and power their spells. So when Gore gulped deep of the fog to concentrate for his next spell, he inhaled the necrotic energies hidden within as well. He coughed and backed away, breaking his spell.

‘Ah, it finally kicked in?’ I said. ‘I kept the concentration low so you wouldn’t notice.’

‘Sly…’ Gore'ter rasped out between laboured breaths.

A mental order, and my mystic called forth her guardians. The glow to the malnourished spectres was deeper than before. It wasn’t solely the recent upgrade that augmented their power, but also Wraith’s passive ability, which strengthened every spectre in his presence.

Misty Step, I thought, and I whirled through the fog faster than I ever had.

The increase in speed caught Gore off-guard. He rushed to cast his spell. The fire nova was just in time, buffeting and keeping Ellen’s dark guardians at bay.

I burst through the flames, my necrofrost arm swooping down like a talon. The orc’s barrier cracked upon impact.

Gore laughed. ‘I guess it wasn’t for nothing!’

Legs formed and planted onto the shield for grip. Flourishing my dagger, I planted the tip right in the centre of the crack. The shield shattered like glass.

Gore’s face grew dark as he tried to leap backwards. I was still falling, not allowing me to chase him immediately, but his nova had stopped, freeing up my guardians. They screeched, bounding through the mist. Gore whipped a wand out of his pocket to blast both out of the air with a magic missile. But then I was in range. His barrier didn’t form in time and my dagger pierced into his robe.

Just to hit a metallic layer underneath.

The orc smiled. ‘Gotcha.’

My claw-hand curled into a fist. I curved low underneath the swipe of his wand, letting the blast of fire pass over me. I shifted the entirety of my weight. My fist knocked the air out of Gore’s lungs and his plate cover buckled. The orc launched through the frozen statues and skipped off the ground. He whirled around mid-air and skidded to a halt, laughing and raising his staff.

I ignored his following calls of jubilation, my gaze on the broken statues. The death wafting from the remnants was tangible. Quickly, I gouged how many had escaped Gore’s attacks. Dozens still. Malakai had powerlevelled my mages, bringing them to level 7. And that meant there was enough here to push Ellen over the edge.

My mind turned back to Gore. The black orc was levitating and hovering above me.

‘Lady Dread! I must thank you for this wonderful battle, but I’m afraid it ends here!’

The staff whirled on me. A frightening amount of mana curled around the gem-tip, worming and looping so the space around it distorted. Purple lines of power burst into existence spontaneously, a product of the energies the orc was summoning.

My necrofrost hand raised. Blades of ice whirled through the mist, shattering all of the remaining statues.

‘Come, my children,’ I whispered.

My arm became a well of gravity, pulling and sucking the death in the chamber towards it. My cloak billowed. Death, old death that had been buried here for millenia, shaped into a core more dreadful than the one stored in my main body.

Ellen stepped up beside me.

I leaned forwards, my hand pushing the core into the mystic’s skin.

[Undead Mystic lvl. 7 -> Undead Mystic lvl. 10]

[Class Upgrades available for Undead Mystic lvl. 10]

[Options] =

{

Undead Deacon (+1)

Undead Minister (-2)

Undead Adept (+2)

}