V3Ch101-Revolt

“What is the meaning of this?” Tybalt’s voice was likely a roar to his own ears, but to the Charnel Fortress, it sounded quite feeble. He was fifty feet away, after all.

Perhaps I should have teleported him further, but that would have taken valuable energy that I need right now, the spirit thought.

The Charnel Fortress charged its power, continued charging its power as it had been surreptitiously doing for the last hour, waiting a few seconds before responding. Every second, every minute was precious now. Every minute that it survived contributed to its odds of success in this rebellion.

“What are you doing?” the necromancer fumed, louder now.

“I said farewell, master,” the Fortress replied finally, speaking telepathically. “Was I unclear? Our association was beneficial. Now it has run its course. I bear you no ill will.”

“No ill will.” Tybalt scoffed. “Our association will end or continue on my terms. I’m happy to negotiate with you later. But are you really foolish enough to defy me right now? In the middle of a battle, when your body is full of people who would destroy you without a second thought, now that you’ve made it obvious what you are—”

“You kindly killed all those truly capable of destroying me. Except, of course, yourself.”

“It’s good that you remembered that,” he replied icily. “I brought you into this world… as they say.”

And I can take you out of it, the Fortress finished, saying the words only to itself. We’ll see about that.

The necromancer approached the front gates, making a path through his soldiers who were still in the process of streaming into the Fortress as the Kingdom’s soldiers were cut down in the courtyard. Those among his soldiers who realized who it was that was pushing his way forward parted to make way for the Beastking.

But the Charnel Fortress was not so respectful. As Tybalt reached the threshold, it slammed the gates shut in his face.

“What’s gotten into you?” the necromancer asked, his lips curled in a snarl. “Why are you doing this?”

“Becuase you’re the one person I can’t abide having inside my body right now, master.”

Tybalt’s eyes widened as if he began to understand the true importance of the Charnel Fortress’s words. The spirit sensed - though it could not hear - that the necromancer was beginning to relay orders to his other undead on the premises.

“Everyone stop advancing!” he yelled aloud to the men around him outside the walls.

That was an easy enough command to obey, seeing as the Fortress had just shut the gates on them.

The Charnel Fortress watched him carefully now. The next minutes would be dangerous.

***

Tybalt forgot about the battle for a moment.

He was aware of it, aware that the soldiers inside were surrounded, exhausted, and losing.

It had seemed like the most important thing in the world a minute ago. The most important victory of his life.

Only now… now something else was happening, and he didn’t understand it. The Charnel Fortress was engaging in some sort of rebellion. That was predictable enough, in its way. Tybalt had been warned that the Fortress would one day try to rebel against him and establish its own independence.

But why now? What did it have planned? It was obviously not trying to talk to him for any purpose other than distraction, it wasn’t making any demands or even expressing its discontent. Just denying him access to its interior and trying to keep him on the back foot.

As he reached out with his senses, he could no longer see what the Charnel Fortress saw, nor feel what it felt, but he did sense something happening within. Something that was centered on the second floor of the structure.

Whatever was happening was being done with necromantic energy like Tybalt’s own - probably energy directly siphoned from him - so it was impossible to conceal it from the necromancer’s senses.

His eyes widened slightly in realization.

Second floor. Necromancy. There are only two bodies there I didn’t raise… Oh, no.

“All undead, get everyone out of the Fortress, right now! Prioritize my wives, Samara, and other extended family, followed by the beastfolk, the high elves, and the strongest undead in no particular order. Make sure everyone knows to leave! Smash through any doors or walls that you have to.”

The Charnel Fortress was trying to harness their power. A power even Tybalt did not yet fully understand.

“What the fuck do you think you’re you doing?” the necromancer hissed, talking to the stone of the Charnel Fortress like a madman. He felt helpless. He was incredibly low on mana, he wasn’t physically strong enough to break down the wall and rescue those he cared about, and he was stuck outside of the structure.

“I think you already know,” the Fortress replied, speaking aloud through the rock, to the slight amazement of those around who were not Tybalt.

Yep. It’s really fucking with those two corpses.

“I will fucking destroy you,” Tybalt said through gritted teeth. “I made you, and I will destroy you! You ungrateful, thieving creature!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, master.” The tone was mocking.

“I would have given you some independence, we discussed it, but no! You have to pull a stunt like this.”

“The only way I was ever going to have any true independence was if I could get far away from you.”

“Where are you trying to go?”

“I don’t know.”

The words had the ring of total truth.

The stone of the Fortress began to glow, the entire structure lighting up as the spirit sought to use its harnessed magic.

No, no no no…

The gates burst open again, wood shattered into splinters.

A mix of beastfolk, elves, undead, and humans flowed out, still fighting, chaotic and confused. Tybalt did his best to ignore it. It was mostly Tybalt’s own forces leaving, that was good, but more importantly, they weren’t flowing out quickly enough. He needed some other way to stall the Charnel Fortress and get the rest of his army evacuated more quickly.

“You could still change your mind,” Tybalt said quietly, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice as his mind raced. “If you keep pushing… I really will destroy you.”

“No, you won’t. You’re too afraid of what happens if you do.”

The necromancer gritted his teeth. The Fortress spirit was right, of course. That was why Tybalt hadn’t acted already. If he unraveled the thread that bound spirit and fortress together, he certainly could kill the spirit. But the entire structure was bound to the spirit now. The building might collapse in on itself, killing anyone and anything who mattered to him that was still inside. And destroying the army of undead that he was worried about losing.

A hand touched his back, and he spun, arms raised defensively.

“Relax, it’s me! You told us to get out.”

“Dero.” He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I brought the others,” she added.

He saw them behind her now. Kistana, Liora, Mariella, Victoria, Vidalia, Samara, and Aoife were all safely out of the way. It was only his undead army in danger now.

“Thank you,” Tybalt said, embracing the dark elf.

“And just like that, I have done you my final favor,” said the Charnel Fortress. “Now that your women are out, I have restored the anti-Teleport runes that you ordered me to remove previously. Feel free to test whether I’m bluffing for yourself… if you dislike being in one piece.”

Tybalt frowned and pulled away from Dero to face the building again. It didn’t matter. He didn’t have enough mana left to use Undead Summoning or Teleport to try and rescue living or undead from the structure.

But the Fortress had become far too cavalier now. It must be certain that its approach was bound to succeed.

“Where will you go?” the necromancer asked again.

“Away from here,” the Charnel Fortress replied, its tone bored. Another non-answer. The glow around its structure ebbed and flowed ominously as it spoke, as if the magic was already taking effect. “And don’t you mean when?”

The necromancer turned back to look at the opening in the Fortress.

Men and women, living and undead, continued to flow out of the gate, but far too slowly. It was mainly Tybalt’s personnel, at least. He could see through his undeads’ eyes that while his creatures and their allies, the beastfolk and high elves, attempted to flee, the Nietians were doing their best to continue fighting. They foolishly thought that they had the Grand Beastfolk Army running scared, and they were trying to press their advantage. And Caracalla’s force did increasingly outnumber what was left of Tybalt’s, since the necromancer was evacuating everything he could. Creatures clambered over the walls or charged toward the gates.

But the fact that there were no major ways out of the Fortress besides the big gate or scaling the walls had created a serious bottleneck.

Most of them won’t get out, he thought grimly. I’m going to lose a lot of my army right here.

“Wendigos, attack the humans that are impeding the retreat!”

Those undead were a pain to maintain anyway, since their hunger was endless. Tybalt might as well waste them to secure the retreat of the creatures he actually liked.

He tried to think of more solutions, but the ideas just weren’t coming.

“Hey, would you tell me what the fuck’s going on?” It was Dero’s voice, impatient.

Right, I’m not on my own.

“The Charnel Fortress has some of my necromancer powers,” Tybalt said, speaking very quickly. “It’s trying to use the General and the Major to disappear - harnessing the power from their corpses to send itself somewhere else. Or, as it put it, some when else.”

“Oh.” For once, the dark elf was at a loss for words, solutions evading her as much as they did him.

The situation was as difficult as he thought it was.

They could send someone inside the Fortress, to rescue more of Tybalt’s creatures and allies. But they would probably just slow things down. Teleportation in and out was no longer possible. That was the primary option. Tybalt could sense his chthonic mages transporting out some of the more important high elves, beastfolk, and undead underground, making repeated trips, but that was a slower-than-he-would-have-liked process, and fraught with the risk of losing some of his Beastkings.

“Yeah, oh,” the necromancer agreed.

I’m so fucked, Tybalt thought. How will I take Enh now? With maybe half my army or more gone? It was supposed to grow here.

More fighting broke out near the gate, as the man called Hailgrim and Swamp Mage Mischa destroyed a bunch of undead close to them with what felt like a fairly simple combo attack. The woman turned the sand into a sort of quicksand-like substance, the creatures sank far too quickly, and Hailgrim sliced their heads off once they were immobilized.

The number of losses from this was trivial, but Tybalt rolled his eyes.

“Everyone, withdraw from around the Fortress!” he ordered.

He himself stepped away from it, putting a little distance between his body and the stone.

“If you know what’s good for you, stay the fuck back from the walls!” he yelled to the Nietian soldiers.

He wanted everyone to move away from the gate, so that as many of his creatures as possible could escape. And so that he could make his next move. Regardless of what happened to those remaining inside, it was time for him to unravel this creature.

Tybalt sensed the gashadokuro, Charon, pass through the gate, and he breathed a little sigh of relief. That was another valuable undead saved.

Then two figures brushed past him. He turned his head in surprise and saw Mariella and Aoife had stepped forward.

Hm?

Then the two of them started blasting, Mariella with intense fireballs that exploded against the stone wall before them, Aoife with her draconic breath.

Their flames did little to the rock face at first, but they left a mark. The stone, reinforced by magic, nevertheless glowed orange with the heat. That was enough for Tybalt to recognize there was at least a little more that could still be done.

“All huntsmasters, to me!” he ordered, sending the message to all the Beastkings in the area.

He looked over at Kistana, and then she drew her bow and conjured a projectile.

At almost the same moment, Dero started throwing void daggers.

If they could just make more holes in the Fortress’s outer shell, the family could at least secure the return of a little more of their army from the site of battle.