Chapter 107: People
The mere light of Edric’s inner flame was enough to force the tides of the undead to cower senselessly back to the skirts of their Liches where they stood, shivering, blinking, sucking deep breaths from the Everfog to stop their bodies from twitching.
There were hundreds of them pressing into the main gate of the Golden Cathedral, which was cloaked in wavering lights of the Blessed Father that resisted the battering of the Liches’ foul magic. Now and then, a hole opened up around the sides, the Priests patching it with their mana in haste, the Templars and the disciples from the Brotherhood rushing to aid them.
We have to hold on.
He had left Jack to Lenora when Mas and Dain returned from the ninth floor and rushed to the main gate in haste. Valens was still nowhere in sight, and Garran was missing, but if Edric knew the pair of them, then they could take care of themselves. What worried him was this sight that welcomed him outside the Cathedral.
The whole city was taken by a storm, and the reports coming in told him that the undead were only half of his worries.
There were Shapeshifters in Belgrave. Remnants of the Chimeric Order from the Ancient Era had crept into the city and were working with the Ninth Legion. The men of respectable Guilds had already fled by using their own Guild gates, leaving the innocent people alone against this madness. Mighty men praised for their grand deeds had scampered like ants afraid to be trampled under the hooves of this sudden assault.
He read all about them, but couldn’t find it in him to be shocked by any of it. That was the deal with the Guilds. You praise them, haul them off your shoulders, and give them a speech or two in front of the crowds, but when things get tough, they’d be the first ones out of the door.
No change in there, Edric thought. The bloody part of the job was always left to the hands of the Divine Orders, after all. What those cowardly bastards didn’t know, however, was that not even the Golden Church had been prepared for an assault of this magnitude.
Edric turned and waved a hand at the disciples behind him.
Little warriors with their little weapons are trying to defend the Cathedral.
What was the point, anyway? The whole city had crumbled, the order had fallen, and there was no word from the King or any of the authorities. Nobody, it seemed, gave a damn about Belgrave being invaded by a horde of undead who were supposed to be chained to the Underworld.
“Captain!” said a voice as a familiar figure came bounding toward him. Mas gave him a salute, then removed his helmet as he frowned out into the rows of disciples in the back. “I’ve sent men to check the horde. Fresh air has done a number on them. Other than a few dozen Chiefs at the helm, the rest is all just numbers. So long as the Bishop keeps those Liches under his control, we can stall enough for the help to arrive.”