Chapter 63: Malice
Leif put a golden fist through the skull of what had once been an evolved wolf. The monster, rotting and twisted, perished with a low gurgling growl. Overhead streaks of white light flashed, each targeting undead too far away for anyone else within the expedition to even have a chance of hitting.
From over a hill another group of undead of all different shapes and sizes came sprinting, bounding and stumbling. Among their number were several distinctly goblin shaped figures.
They would undoubtedly be corpses reanimated by death attuned magics. Leif wasn’t certain if that was an improvement.
Just like the previous group, and the group before that they rushed mindlessly forward, only to be cut down. In fact, over the course of the day a near constant yet strangely small stream of undeath had come charging. None had a hope of genuinely threatening the combined convoy, yet still they came.
It was ominous, much like the feeling of dread that wafted up from beneath their feet. Leif couldn’t help but suspect they were being toyed with, like whatever malevolent force was directing the attacking monsters was only half interested in him and the expedition. By what, and why? The spriggan wasn’t sure.
A barrage of skill, each as wildly different in appearance as they were in their varied aspects, were launched from where a cluster of a dozen Academy students were positioned at the mouth of the small wooded valley.
Thunder rumbled from ahead. This was yet another constant of the day. It wasn’t caused by any fluctuating weather, in fact the day was remarkably pleasant and warm. This thunder came from several of the stronger nomads. Unlike their expedition counterparts, many of the nomads seemed to share remarkably similar paths.
A half rotted, yet still moving carcass of a bear came howling towards the spriggan. Leif contemptuously slapped it, the sheer force of the blow sending the undead beast spinning comically into a pack of three mostly skeletal goblins.
“Does that count for extra points?” Leif asked the mage who sat above him on the lower branches of a tree.
“Eh, sure.” Marcus said with a yawn. “What do you think Sieg? Triple points?”
“I think.” The large man grumbled as he held his axe wearily. “That you should be taking this more seriously.”
“Yeah, yeah. It was scary at first. But that was hours ago. If they bunched up before rushing us it might be a challenge.” The mage shrugged. “But they don’t, so it isn’t.” He lazily pointed a finger to a straggling zombie goblin. It popped as purple lightning fried its insides.
“Alright people!” Hera called from where she stood over a hundred metres away atop a stack of boulders. “The way forward is clear, pull back and regroup with the caravan.” As one, and with more than a few sighs of relief, the expedition members retreated from where they had been holding ground.
Leif knew what his job was, heal any wounds as quickly as possible. There had been some minor scratches and bites earlier in the day, but he had gotten to the injured before any afflictions spread by the undead attackers could fester.
It also helped that most of the undead seemed more interested in getting to him specifically, to the point many would forgo easier and closer targets. Leif had thought it was strange until an expedition member had pointed out most undead could detect vitality.
Something he just so happened to have a whole lot of. An amount that was currently far greater than normal due to [Blight’s Bounty] draining the animating energy out of the moving corpses and converting it into lifeforce.
It was frustrating in a sense. To be so flooded with power but without a worthwhile target to use it against.
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As they retreated into the valley the convoy came into sight. Undead were coming in ones or twos from further down, but were being torn apart with little effort. Within the convoy were his animals, huddling together and safe from any immediate danger among the children and beasts of burden the nomads employed.
Leif felt tension he hadn’t realised he was holding go, a weight around his heart lifted. If there was any group at the largest risk to the sparse undead, it was the animals. The sheer number of turned or reanimated beasts that he had killed over the past few hours was proof of this.
Off to the side was a small cluster of the mostly non combatant expedition members. They were crowded around a communication device while whispering and muttering to one another. An arrow of light fell from the sky and Hera stepped out towards this group.
As Leif and the others jogged up they caught the tail end of the conversation. A younger woman was speaking in a hurried and slightly panicked voice.
“Yes Ma’am. The Far Reach outpost is under attack. The report said there were hundreds of undead surrounding the encampment and the sky skimmers are still away after evacuating the first batch of support staff and injured.”
Hera cursed. “What of Kaan? “U-uh, they said he was escorting the skimmers. Something about a pair of griffons harassing the craft.”
The academy blade cursed again. She turned to address the expectant looks from the expedition members but her attention was arrested by a trio of approaching nomads. Kala was among them, the other two were what Leif thought were the clan chief and his wife.
“What's the plan?” The aged man asked, voice a low rumble. “We cannot stay, we can deal with the small amounts of undead as they are now…”
But any more and things would start looking dire. The man didn’t say as he trailed off.
“The undead seem to be amassing at our destination.” Hera said, her expression calm but her tone grim. “What we’re facing now are likely stragglers or strays from the main horde.”
The nomad's face paled, going almost the same colour as his mane of white hair. “Then… then we cannot follow. I’m sorry, but I must prioritise the safety of my people. Perhaps we can skirt to the east before continuing down south.”
“Are you certain? I cannot force you to remain, but there is a certain safety in numbers.” Hera said.
The nomad nodded firmly. “Beyond this valley are flatlands. If we travel quickly, both during the day and night we should make it out safely before the threat becomes too great to manage.”
===
“Kala!” Leif called as he sought out the elderly healer some ten minutes later. She turned with a creased brow. “I need a favour. Please, before we part ways.”
Her expression softened. “What can this old woman do for you?”
Leif paused. He had made his choice, but that didn’t make it easy. “I… I need you to take my animals with you. They’re not safe where I’m going.”
Behind him his entourage of critters shuffled uncomfortably, as if they could partially understand his intent to part ways.
It wasn’t a decision Leif made lightly. Far from it. But what choice did he have? If he brought them with him into a military camp under attack from a horde of undeath what would happen? Even if he somehow found a way to keep them safe, what then?
Could he bring them along as he tried to re-enter society? He needed answers, help and most importantly power. If he managed to get into the academy he couldn’t bring them. If he found a dungeon he couldn’t bring them.
If he wanted to be the person he used to be…
Something within Leif’s chest twinged. For a moment he hesitated, tempted beyond reason to abandon everything. To give up his goals, ambitions, hopes, and just accept what he had now. But Leif couldn’t, no matter how tempting the fleeting thought had been, deep down he knew he couldn’t.
Kala nodded, somehow reading the emotions on his featureless face. “Yes. We can keep them safe. When this is over you can come and find us.”
Leif turned then. Seeing the faces of his animals. The newly named Bam and Lani were in front, eyes wide and confused. His chest twinged again, the desire to stay rearing up. It took several moments for his resolve to harden.
Then, using his aura, Leif told them what they had to do. After several minutes of coaxing, and with obvious reluctance, they joined the nomads. As the clan departed Leif watched, as they snaked over a series of hills and vanished from sight Leif watched.
I’ll come find you. When this is all over, I promise.
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