Chapter 290 - Fear of Death

Bit early, but Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! Hope you all have a good few days. Chapters should continue as normal (hopefully actually on time), so I'll see you Tuesday :)

My beta reader didn't make it for this one, so please forgive the typos if there's more than usual. Very pleased with how it came together though so excited to hear what you all think!

Vamir stood in the ruins of the battlefield, surrounded by bodies and people. He breathed heavily, exhausted from hours of fighting a foe that did not tire. Yet now, they stopped. Murmurs went up amongst his hunters as the undead faltered, staggering on their feet, the evil light in their eyes gone out.

A tremor rippled through the battlefield. Dark clouds parted above, white light piercing through in great cracks, as if the sun had finally broken through the storm. He stared, stunned by awe like the rest of his people. The cracks spread, light getting closer. The world shimmered as the pressure hit him. The world shimmered as the pressure hit him.

With it, the undead before him dropped to the ground unmoving. No matter how powerful a creature it was, they fell, collapsing into lumps of flesh. Some deteriorated entirely as the magic that held them failed. The stench of rot and decay became thick and putrid—the stench of victory.

He followed the light back to the sky over Estora. Ethereal white light broke through the black vortex of clouds summoned by the lich. Darkness retreated before that light, the clouds dragged from the sky like water down a drain.

And then, the sky parted. The dark fog that obscured everything parted like a cloud of dust, and sunlight poured over the battlefield.

“They did it,” Vamir whispered.

Vamir raised his sword in victory and bellowed at the sky, cheering with all his might. Around him, others joined the cry. Thrill, excitement, victory—today Drakalyn burned brighter than ever.

***

Hump shielded his eyes as essence erupted from the phylactery, white ether flickering like a raging fire and forming a pillar of power that encompassed half the chamber. It disappeared into the roof, escaping to gods knew where.

Irila gasped, doubling over, and clutching her stomach. Hump stared at the lich, not sure what to expect. She let loose a scream, feral and wild, like the undead she controlled. Darkness poured from her body, filling the rest of the small chamber with a second aura of flickering essence. It washed over Hump like an icy wind, the sensation of evil sending chills down his spine and making his head swim.

Not good. He scrambled back until he hit the wall, putting as much distance between him and Irila as he could. There was no strength left in him to resist this wave of intent. He already felt faint, the cold of essence overuse becoming more and more intense by the second as his body remembered his exhaustion now that the lich’s torment had stopped.

Still, Hump couldn’t take his eyes from the lich queen. He let her undeath essence wash over him without resistance and watched. Her face was a hideous mess from where he’d struck her with White Flame, but what remained of it now became even more dry and cracked. Blood oozed from the wounds, black as poison and stinking of decay.

She dropped to her hands and knees, panting and wailing, her black aura shrinking quickly until it was barely visible. Her crown fell from her head, clattering to the ground. On the altar, the pillar of power pouring from her phylactery slowed down too. Raging flames of essence were reduced to a flicker, until there was a final white puff, and the crystal orb lost its lustre, the light within fading to a dull glow.

For one terrifying moment, Hump feared Walt had been ejected from within and that their efforts had failed. Then the cloud of essence shimmered. A faceless, ghostly figure formed from the light, flying through the air toward Irila. In Hump’s exhaustion, it was a moment too late when he realised what it was. This was what they’d fought so hard to reach. This was Irila’s soul.

By the time that realisation had set in, the soul had reached the lich’s body. Hump tried to call upon his essence only to cry out as a stabbing pain tore through his core, his power failing him.

Irila breathed deeply, wet and wheezing, sucking in the misty soul. With that breath, it was like her body had returned to life. Ethereal light shone from the wounds across her body as flesh knitted itself back together. The superficial cuts on her face healed over in seconds, and a little colour returned to her face.

Celaine was on her feet behind her, bow in hand. She loosed an arrow radiating the silver light of Power Shot, only for it to bounce off a shield spell protecting Irila’s back.

The lich raised her right arm, calling her staff to her hand. Power blossomed in the focus and she turned to Hump with a wild look.

“Goodbye, wizard,” she said, levelling her staff to his face.

The light flashed, consuming Hump’s vision entirely. This time, she spared him no words. He sensed the killing intent in her magic. This time, she simply wanted him gone.

“No!” Celaine screamed.

There was an explosion of essence. A blinding flash filled the room, following by a thundering boom. Keeper Yunillia appeared before Hump, grabbing the lich’s staff and shoving it to the side.

The lich queen snarled. “You—”

Without a word, Yunillia drove her fist through Irila’s chest and into her heart. Irila grunted, blood spurting from her mouth and down her chin. Her body convulsed as lightning surged through her body. Blood oozed from the wound in his chest, staining Yunillia’s arm in rotten sludge.

Irila’s blood-soaked lips twisted into a smile. She gazed into Yunillia’s eyes, and the keeper’s eyes turned black as night. In the very depths of them, Hump saw a purple glow. The lich breathed out, her soul bursting through her mouth in a puff. Her physical body collapsed, but her spirit found a new vessel. A perfect vessel. One already afflicted by the lich’s powers.

“Oh shit,” Hump whispered. If there was one thing to say about the lich, she was resilient.

Yunillia released a primal scream, filled with pure agony. Essence erupted from cracks across her chest, pouring out of her in streams of purple light, shining through her black scale armour like scars. She collapsed to her knees. The sounds of bones cracking filled the air. Her muscles contorted, veins pulsed and bulged, her head twisted inhumanly to the side.

“You are mine, Chosen of the Huntress.” It was Yunillia’s mouth moving, but not her voice. Lich Queen Irila spoke through her, puppetting her mouth.

Hump saw the fear in Yunillia’s eyes. But she was still in there. Silence took her, the two no doubt locked in a battle of wills. A battle Hump would not leave her alone in.

He scrambled for his potion pouch, taking the last of his Essence Elixirs, fumbling with the vial as he fought his stubborn, frostbitten fingers. Cold surged from every part of his body. He managed to pull the stopper out and drank the elixir. It wasn’t much, but a little warmth returned to him, smouldering in his stomach and spreading through his veins—enough that he could do something.

Hump picked up his staff and turned to face Yunillia. Lightning crackled around her as her aura broke free of her body, but it was tinged with the lich’s corruptive essence.

“What do we do?” Celaine asked.

Hump forced himself to think through all the pain and exhaustion. “The lich is trying to invade Yunillia’s body,” Hump said. “She wants it for herself. Which means that either she will attempt to force Yunillia’s soul out or take control of it by overpowering her will. We need to interrupt it.”

“Can you suppress them with your soul manifestation?” Celaine asked.

Hump drew a deep breath and called upon the last of his strength. “I’ll try.”

He manifested his soul, the world taking on a violet hue. His power was faint now, a fraction of his usual strength, but they were weakened too. It would have to do. He stepped closer, directing his will at Yunillia’s body with as much force as he could, surrounding her in his power and intent. While targeting Irila directly was difficult, intent was a powerful thing. She was his focus.

Yunillia’s head twisted to the left and she cried out in pain. “I cannot hold her.” Her voice was strained.

Her head snapped back to the right, and Irila’s cackling laugh filled the room. Was she enjoying this, or simply mad?

Hump forced himself to remain calm. Yunillia appeared to be losing, which meant either they did something now or accepted that fate. Glancing toward the spiral staircase, Hump crossed his fingers help would arrive soon. The others had to be out there, surely.

“This isn’t fast enough,” Celaine said. She dropped her bow and rushed over to where the obsidian spikes were still on the floor from where Hump had used Titan’s Wrath. Intent pulsed through them even now, though it was weak. She took one of the smaller spikes and approached Yunillia.

“What are you doing?” Hump asked. “Celaine! Wait!”

“The only thing I can think of.” Celaine stabbed the spike into the left side of Yunillia’s abdomen, holding it there.

Two screams filled the chamber, both the lich and Yunillia crying out in agony.

“Keep going,” Yunillia roared.

Her neck snapped the other way. “You will kill us both!”

Yunillia smiled madly. “Happily.”

“Let me.” Hump stepped closer, swapping his staff to his left hand.

He grabbed the spike, pouring essence into the object, sending pulse after pulse of disruptive essence through Yunillia’s body. Pain shuddered through him, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. This was the last of his strength. The last of their options.

All he could do was fix the lich’s essence in his mind and target it with his own power, trying to limit the effect Titan’s Wrath had on Yunillia’s body. With every second, Irila pushed back with her own will, forming a wall of intent in an attempt to keep him out.

It didn’t take long for Hump to know he was winning. She was weak compared to before. While her intent was focused, he crumbled before his will. Where he found a weakness, he wormed his way deeper, digging at her soul with fiery tendrils of will, searching for the core of her being just as the gorger had once done to him.

Footsteps echoed down the steps. Finnian and Ado appeared, sprinting into the chamber. They were bloodied and filthy from battle.

“Traitor!” Finnian roared.

He lunged at Hump, but Celaine stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Stop, Finn. The lich is trying to take Yunillia.”

“Let me past,” Finnian said furiously. He raised his sword and Hump felt a storm gather to the hall.

Ado grabbed his arm from behind. “Wait! Just watch, lad. Hump is no traitor.”

Finnian glanced at Ado, then slowly lowered his sword. His essence faltered and Hump returned to the task at hand. The only task that mattered—to dig Irila out of her hole. When he found her, she fled, bursting free of Yunillia in an explosion of essence.

Celaine was there first, her dagger blazing silver as she slashed at the lich’s soul. Her blow carved the spirit in two, essence fading into the air. The lich screamed in pain, the top half of her soul reforming into a faceless head, though smaller this time.

“No! You cannot kill me. I cannot die!” Still, she tried to escape, fleeing like a cornered animal, but there was no escaping Celaine now. She slashed again with Bloodshadow, carving Irila’s head in two.

“Please!” the lich cried out. “I can’t—”

Blade after blade found her, carving her to pieces until there was no fight left in her. Finally, the chamber went silent. Finally, the lich queen was gone.

For a long few seconds, they all stared at the space where Irila had just been. The stench of decay grew thicker as her old body decayed rapidly, flesh drying into husk until little more than bones and robes remained.

“Is it over?” Hump whispered. He heard no sounds of fighting from above. The storm of undead essence permeating every inch of the dungeon was fading.

“It’s over,” Celaine said. “She’s dead. Nothing could survive their soul being carved to pieces like that.”

“Well thank whatever bloody gods are watching for that,” Hump said. “I was starting to wonder if she could die.”

Celaine snorted. She turned to Yunillia. “Are you okay, First Keeper? Sorry about…” she trailed off, studying Yunillia’s look with a guilty look.

“Yes,” Yunillia said, her voice quiet and shaking. She clutched at the deep wound in her abdomen. “Alive at least.”

Ado moved to her side, kneeling to inspect the damage.

Meanwhile, Hump no longer fought his exhaustion. He collapsed to the ground. His body was numb all over, other than the burning ice that sent waves of pain through his body. As bad as the cold was, he could already feel his dragon blood at work, warming him and replenishing his vigour. He hadn’t crossed the boundary like he had back in Sheercliff City. His body had shown its improved resilience and could still take more.

“I’ll be alright,” Yunillia told him. She smiled at Celaine who was watching her with a guilty look. “That sure was daring though, Celaine. You have good aim.”

“My Relentless Pursuit blessing shows me a target’s weaknesses,” Celaine said. “I made sure to miss.”

“It was well done.” She let out a long breath. “Help me up, Ado. We should see to the others.” Once she was back on her feet, she frowned at Celaine. “Celaine, you’re glowing.”

They all looked at her. Hump noticed the familiar shimmer beneath the surface of her skin.

“The fourth circle,” Finnian said.

“Take your blessing,” Yunillia said. “You’ve more than earned it, and we could do with some light in this dark place.”

Celaine placed her hand to her chest and withdrew her Brilliance. Essence burst from her chest, an aura of green fire manifesting around her. Hump felt Owalyn’s deadly intent spread through the chamber, and he felt empowered by it. As her Brilliance surged with ghostly light, vines emerged from the stone floor, forming from her power, wrapping around her to form her circles. Grass sprouted from the floor and chamber walls, radiant as a summer meadow, flowing in an invisible wind. Flowers blossomed, vines twisted and curled, and in that moment, Owalyn claimed the chamber.

Runes formed as Celaine’s blessings took form, marked out in finely woven grass until the solidified as crystal. There was a pause as her third circle was completed, then slowly, the next one formed. Rune after rune marred the ground around her until she was entirely encompassed—a major blessing. The equivalent of a manifested soul.

Hump closed his eyes to rest them for just a second, tiredness overtaking him. He felt darkness at the edge of his mind, dragging him down. A sense of foreboding overcame him, then suddenly, he was falling. He awoke as if startled from a dream. Before him was what appeared to be the entrance to a grand library, and at the top of its steps was a man-like creature that couldn’t have been more than a couple of feet tall.

Everything about it seemed disproportioned. Its hands, feet, and head were all too big for its body, and it stared at Hump with wide yellow eyes and pointed ears. Its jaw protruded from its face, giving it a large underbite that revealed small fangs.

“And now you have come to me, Wizard,” said the creature, a maniacal grin on its face. He seemed to grow before Hump, a shadow rising around him. “There shall be no escape from this place.

Hump’s heart leapt to his throat, only for the shadow to break and the creature to burst out laughing.

“I’m just kidding, Hump. It’s me, Walt! Good to finally meet you face to face!”