Chapter 104: Pressure
A lump of rotten meat clad round a skeletal frame came stumbling closer to him, bony fingers clasped tightly around a sword. A bastard of a sword, Garran reckoned, reeking of death and wrong. Something very wrong as the straps of his golden plates flapped against his chest. He ducked under the weapon, lunged in, and caught the fool by the torso, hauled him off, and slammed him across the ground, planted a plated foot down on the Heartstone.
With a click, the stone gave in and splintered into pieces.
Ding! You have managed to defeat [Undead Soldier: lvl 135]!
You have leveled up! 5 Stat Points granted!
“Huh,” he breathed, looking at the mess he’d just made in his living room. Wide walls and the furniture scattered about them, black wood lined with golden straps, now laying in crushed piles thanks to the Undead.
“I’ve paid good money for this shit,” he lamented as he took in the sight of his next opponent. Another Undead Soldier reeking of rot and the fog of the Liches. Another mindless fool too blind to appreciate the fashion and beauty of his house. “Doubt you have much coin to cover the damages. What should a man do, then, eh? Use the bones to get a deal?”
He shook his head as the fool came stabbing with a spear. A tap to the side of the wooden thing, then the creature stumbled clumsily with the impact, Garran stepping in and catching him by the nape of his rotten neck. He swung him round just in time to welcome another Undead coming behind him, the sword in the bastard’s hand scraping against the Heartstone of his companion.
“Take him,” Garran said, and pushed the first Undead further into the sword while the other one blinked his foggy, empty eyes round at him. “I don’t have a use for him.”
A sweep of his sword sent both their skulls rolling across the ground. That made what, a dozen of them already? Two dozen? It was hard to count, since crushing each Undead left him with another lump in a pile of bones.
Guess they’re not happy being kept in the Underworld anymore. Breaking the deal is such a deadly thing, though. Suits them well, I’m afraid, but their Liches are behind this.
The inner flame flared alive as his skin prickled with the call of the Dawnkeeper, the golden pillar of light visible from outside his recently cleaned windows.
They’re keeping me busy here, but their real purpose is the Cathedral. Captain should be there with Lenora and the Bishop. We have another Templar team standing guard on the ninth floor, too. They can hold on for a while.