NOVEL SIMPLE Book 1 – Lesson 65: “When in doubt, beat them with their own kind!”
“Fallback! FALLBACK!” the Captain yelled as the Guardians protecting the wall breech were pushed back or swallowed by the approaching tide of undead.
The city had been slowly losing ground to the undead for the last few hours as the Darkest Night progressed. The combination of the increased yin energy in the air and the dark, swirling miasma covering the ground had empowered the undead as time passed. To make matters worse, the cultists seemed to have abandoned espionage attempts and were now directing the undead from behind.
It wasn’t clear if this was because the cultists had become desperate thanks to the temple’s witchhunt in the city proper or simple confidence in their inevitable victory. Whatever the reason, the result was the same: the undead had become stronger, more numerous, and better organized. It had been a heavy blow for the already exhausted defenders of the city.
Their defensive line had collapsed in places. Slowly at first, but then more frequently, the city defenders were pressed against the walls.
The final nail, though, had been one last act of petty trickery. No one could tell what the cultist had done to the Elder Grand Elk, but one of the massive, [Golden Spirit] ranked creatures had erupted from the holding area within the inner city, its eyes filled with madness and its skin covered in pulsing, black veins. The rampaging creature had cut through the city like a scythe, the [Silver Spirit] guards watching the herds, unable to contain the powerful creature.
Before any of the [Golden Spirit] Guardians or adventurers could respond, the Elder Grand Elk had thrown itself at the wall, its massive bulk and unmatched physical power breaking through the thick stone battlements. The nearby Guardians had tried their best to stop it, but it had only taken a few strikes, and whatever the cultists had done to it had seemed to empower the creature somewhat.
Now, its broken and battered body lay in the gap it had opened, as hundreds of undead crawled their way over it, a small army of Guardians doing their best to keep the tide out of the city. It hadn’t taken long for the undead to notice the breach, either, and word came from the top to fall back into the streets. The civilians had long since been evacuated into the inner city, and the plan was to use the narrow corridor created by the cart buildings to funnel the undead as best as possible. Many of the homes and other buildings had already been rearranged to create effective kill zones and hallways.
Not that those would stop some of the larger, or even stronger, undead. The homes were reinforced to survive rough travel on the prairies, but not to be used as makeshift battlements. But the elites were taking care of most of those, even if they were tiring.
The Captain stood atop one of the house carts and stared through the gap in the wall in the distance. Beyond was a seemingly endless sea of undead. His eyes dulled a little, and he frowned. General Eastgate appeared next to him and spoke, his voice flat. “The council has decided. We start evacuating civilians through the teleporter in the shrine within the hour.”
The Captain’s eyes snapped to the general. “That’s insane! That place is still swarming with elementals. There are over 15 million people in the city; there’s no way we can keep that many people safe. We’ll have to abandon the Grand Elk, too!” he yelled.
General Eastgate nodded in agreement. “They know. But the council’s willing to risk it. The hope is that some will make it safe between the protection from the army, infighting between the undead and the elementals, and the narrow confines of the shrine city.”
The Captain stared at the general and asked through clenched teeth, “Some?! How many is some, Temüjin?!”
General Eastgate refused to meet the Captain’s eyes. “… estimates are at 15%,” he softly said.
The Captain swayed, the blood draining from his face. He stared at the general, wide eyes and mouth agape. “Fifteen…” he whispered before grabbing the general’s shoulder and forcing him to face him. “… FIFTEEN?!” the Captain yelled this time. The outburst drew some eyes, and the Captain lowered his voice. “What do you mean, ‘15%’?! Do they expect us to abandon everyone else?! They can’t be serio—”
The Captain paused, a sick feeling growing in his stomach. His face fell flat. “Temüjin… how exactly do they plan to distribute that ‘protection’?” he asked the general.
General Eastgate didn’t respond, only turning his face away. The Captain’s grip tightened, and even the general’s armor crumpled slightly under his [Golden Spirit] strength. The Captain’s face flashed through several emotions before settling on a flat, emotionless stare. He released the general and turned around.
General Eastgate grabbed the name arm. “Nergüi, wait!”
The Captain didn’t bother to turn around as she spoke, “And why should I?! You expect me to sit by and let them use the people as bait?! What happened to everything you taught us in the Academy, Temüjin? Since when are we just the bodyguards of the pompous nobility? Why would you agree to this?!”
“I DIDN’T!” the general was the one to yell this time. His face twisted with barely contained emotion before returning to a calm facade. He looked into the Captain’s eyes and continued. “I didn’t agree to this. I and General Northgate tried everything we could do to stop them. But the others…” the man shook his head. “We don’t have much of a choice at this point. We’re stuck between the undead and the elementals,” he said.
He released the Captain and spoke in a low voice. “We can’t save everyone. The teleporter can only support some many, and we don’t know what’s on the other side. Or if it even still works.”
The Captain didn’t respond. He only stared at the older man with a sad look before shaking his head and turning away.
Before he could leap from the roof, however, the general’s hand grabbed his shoulder. The Captain spun, his eyes blazing and his fist raised. However, his swung fist stopped short as he noticed the general wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the older man stared wide-eyed off into the distance through the gaping hole in the wall. The Captain furrowed his brow and lowered his fist, then turned and looked in the same direction.
At first, he couldn’t tell what had caught the general’s eye, but after a few moments, his eyes too widened.
There! Again!
Off in the distance, almost too far to be seen with the heavy, chaotic yin energy clouding the sky, was a flash of light. Then another, slightly farther away. A third flash lit up the night, illuminating the tiny forms of distant figures in the grass. The figures were moving with far too much fluidity and purpose to be undead. Another flashed, closer this time, and more figures could be seen.
The Captain and General Eastgate shared a look before both men broke into wide grins. The Radiant Sea was flooded with undead, and the Jadewalker’s Earth Shrine was comparatively deep into the prairies. If there was someone out there fighting, it could only mean one thing.
General Eastgate reached into his pouch and pulled out a small jade seal. He looked hard at the Captain before placing it in the man’s hands. The two men only shared a nod before the Captain jumped from the room and rushed deeper into the city, jade seal in hand.
General Eastgate turned the other way toward the wall breach and drew his war spear. With a yell, the man leaped from the rooftop and landed deep in the throng of undead.
The tired Guardians turned at the sound to see the general leaping over their heads. They paused for a moment before giving their own war cry and pushing the undead horde a little farther back.
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“ALPHA SMASH!”
On the back of the TAWP, two dozen nano-skin tentacles flailed through the air, at the end of which was a giant bone the size of an adult human. Each swing of the tentacles made contact with a target. Some were cultists, others undead, but most of them hit the massive creature made of bone. Even now, the creature’s remaining armor was cracked and splintered in most places, and it was missing several major bones, including an arm.
Another tentacle whipped through its defenses, grabbed a loose rib, and yanked it away. The primitive intelligence driving the Bonetaker couldn’t help but complain internally. Why was it the one having its bones stolen?! That was supposed to be its job! Not that it could do anything about it, as it was currently being beaten to death with said stolen bones.
Alpha quickly learned that his turret fire was next to useless against the Bonetaker. The thing was too heavily armored with ultra-dense bones, with no soft squishy bits to hit even if they broke through. The [Tri-Horn Pile Bunker] had done a fair amount of damage, but it was slow and made the TAWP too unwieldy on such a chaotic battlefield.
So, instead, he’d resorted to more… primitive methods.
The time-honored strategy of ‘beat them with their own kind’!
The same ultra-dense bones that made the Bonetaker into such a terrifying force were used by Alpha to devastating effect. Alpha wasn’t sure how the thing kept together with no discernible connective tissue… or organs of any kind. But he didn’t question it; that just meant the process was less messy. Win-win for everyone! Oh, sure, they were stuck on pretty tight, but it was just like pulling a tooth.
You just had to knock it around, wiggle it a bit, then… yoink!
The Bonetaker roared as its clavicle was ripped away from it.
Alpha whipped the same bone around and up to uppercut the Bonetaker. Then again, with another bone from the side.
“Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?” Alpha asked, laughing.
The creature reeled backward. It didn’t have a brain to jar, but the force of the blow was enough to disrupt the flow of Spirit energy that animated it, resulting in a similar effect.
Around them, the courtyard was in chaos. Guardians battled both the undead and the cultists, who had either not escaped or been killed in the initial assault. Despite the home-ground advantage, the cultists found themselves on the back foot. The undead in the courtyard were the older and more worn-down bodies slated for reprocessing into bone golems or flesh constructs; they were no longer suited for combat. The cultist, meanwhile, had been caught with their pants down, metaphorically. Most present were on their rest cycle or performing duties that would be cumbersome with their typical equipment.
The Guardians, on the other hand, while still worn from recent combat, had time to rest and were properly equipped. It was no stretch to understand who would come out of time. A few cultists on the peripherals of the battle seemed to sense this, as they quickly fled deeper into the complex.
The Bonetaker looked around, unsure of what to do. Its master had been killed at the start of the fight, and while its primitive, semi-sentient intelligence was enough to follow simple commands and react to threats, it wasn’t smart enough to really think for itself.
Instead, it took the cue from the fleeing cultists and turned away, escaping from the strange monster that was trying to kill it with its own bones.
Alpha shook his makeshift bone clubs in the air. “Where do you think you’re going, young man?! I’m not done with you yet!”
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The cultist ran into the Heart chamber, tripping over one of the bodies that had yet to be moved for processing. He flipped head-over-heel and rolled several times. He pushed himself up desperately, gasping for breath, only for his heart to nearly stop when he saw the High Priestess staring down at him from across the room. Behind her, an unconscious Akh’lut pup struggled in the air, a thin beam of light connecting it to the giant crystal at the center of the chamber.
All thoughts of standing fled as he scrambled to his knees and bowed with his head to the floor. The High Priestess frowned and yelled, “What is the meaning of this?! I distinctly remember saying not to disturb me until the ritual was complete.”
The cultist dared not raise his head as he spoke. “Y-Yes, my Lady! B-but there’s been an issue!”
Hera tilted her head, hearing the faint sound of chaos in the distance, before asking, “What? Did one of the golemancers screw up again? I keep telling you that flesh and bone are not the same as stone or metal. Get Lord Riaser to deal with it, and Do. Not. Disturb. Me. AGAIN!”
The cultist lifted his head, panic in his eyes. “M-my Lady! That’s not it! L-lord Riaser is dea—”
CRASH!
The cultist’s words were cut off as the wall to his left was blasted open, and what little remained of the Bonetaker was sent flying across the room. The Bonetaker rolled several times before stopping against a stone pillar. It tried to push itself up on its one remaining arm, but the red light in its eyes flickered and vanished. The Bonetaker crumbled, falling to the ground in a heap, and stopped moving.
As the dust settled, another figured, a large metal beetle-like creature stepped out of the hole in the wall, two dozen bone-tipped tentacles waving in all directions.
Alpha pushed his way into the chamber and turned to face Hera.
His optical plates spun, and he focused on the floating figure of Snowball behind the large woman.
Alpha turned to the High Priestess, pointed the longest, sharpest bone in his possession toward her, and said. “Hello, my name is Alpha. You stole something from me. Prepare to Die.”