Chapter 30: Rain
Rain started pouring in thick, slimy droplets from the ceiling, full of the Necromancer’s filthy magic, hissing against the touch of any living thing, seeping through the skeletons’ bones like a lifeline tailored to reinvigorate the fallen.
Mountains of lifeless bones stirred and shifted before Valens’s eyes. They were being made whole yet again, to move and continue the senseless slaughtering. To rise all at once and do their Master’s bidding.
There was no end to this madness. Not until somebody did something about that damned Magus.
Valens moved in, fingers of his right hand curled to spread the Inferno over their heads. The sprawling storm burned the droplets. Coils of yellow smoke wafted off and eased down. Coated every bit of the cave just like Lord Zahul’s fog. But this one was more insidious, more alive and dangerous, as it sought not to control, but destroy the living.
One single breath, then Valens was onto the Oarfang corpse Celme had just dealt with, laying a hand over the stirring bones to feel its core. He saw the rotten sphere in his sound vision. Witnessed how that filthy mana was being pumped by the lifeline into the sphere once again.
“Hold this beast for me!” he yelled, then sent a pair of Lifesurges to untie the knots that bound the lifeline into the core. Carving the bones, crushing the skull, or even burning the damned thing as a whole—these were all temporary solutions. The only way to make sure this creature never became whole again was to sever the connection off.
But there were dozens of Oarfangs in the din. Worse, Olifants were towering over them, just like the one Hook’s team had defeated a moment ago. Hundreds of skeletons were coming to themselves, already pressing into the alliance’s ranks, pressing tight into the men and undead staring aghast at the sudden development.
Nomad and Celme came in close, and pressed their weights over the bones. Giving them a look, Valens plucked the last knot with the Lifesurges. The Oarfang’s bones crumbled down in a dusty cloud, leaving the rot scrambling to find a way to dig in.
It couldn’t. It was just a mindless stream of energy, and without the core’s pathways, it just splashed pitifully into the creature like a stubborn wave.
There was no notification. Likely since the creature hadn’t actually been brought back to life. Valens noted that in the depths of his mind, then moved with Nomad and Celme toward the Necromancer’s tide.
He was still perched atop that giant rock, staff raised high, dark eyes glinting under the hood of his robe. The black rain kept washing his beaten horde, washing them with filth, bringing them back and forcing them to keep the alliance’s army away.
Valens swept Celme with a gaze as they weaved through the shambling corpses. “You’ve said the Lightmaster and Lord Zahul will take care of—“