Chapter 186: Death March, End.

Despite the heavy atmosphere, it was anything but quiet. Outside the plaza the tavern was located in, we could hear the constant shrieks of whistles and the sound of marching. The entire city was alive, like a kicked over hive.

We all sat in silence, licking our wounds. Talia was forced to remove her uniform, as her crippled arm continued to fester and threatened her life. With it gone, it, and the other injuries she had accrued were wiped away. However, it did lock away her uniform for the time being.

Most likely, for the rest of the delve.

Morrigan was in the same situation, after nearly being decapitated, she’d removed her uniform, preserving her life. Yet, like Talia, she too couldn’t call upon her uniform.

Shi was also forced to dismiss her own uniform, her wounds weren’t festering, but she’d taken a lot of damage, far too much for her to maintain her transformed state. She was fine, but extremely hungry. Not that I had the energy to feed her.

As we sat, we waited. Knowing we’d only be a liability if we left the rest area. Each of us were waiting, holding our collective breaths for Ophelia. Would she make it? Was she fine?

While the others rested inside, I stood outside in the plaza. My uniform was a mess. Just barely holding on. My wounds weren’t too bad, if only because I wasn’t on the frontline. My ice kept the festering at bay, preventing it from taking root. However, my rifle was covered in wounds and nicks.

Each nick and cut in my rifle felt like an open wound on my very being. It burned, stung to keep my rifle active. Like I was actively soaking it in salt. Even then, I dared not dismiss it. Not because I couldn’t call it back, but I feared the fresh new agony that would rip through my being when I did.

As for my uniform, I couldn’t afford to dismiss it. Even with my wounds, and with my current state being as it was. Not just because I needed it to fight, but also due to a gnawing fear at the back of my mind. A realization that I was on the clock, that the moment my uniform was gone, I’d probably find myself completely disabled.

It was a strange notion, yet, I did not deny it. I could not afford to deny it and find out. If it was between being helpless in the midst of danger or keeping a stiff upper lip and holding out for just a bit longer. The answer was more than obvious.

So, here I was, standing, awaiting the arrival of our last member, or perhaps members, if Orion was counted. Though, I was not entirely alone, as my knights slumbered by the central fountain. Worn, tired, near their breaking point. They now did their best to recover from their most recent ordeal.

And before long, my faith was rewarded. Ophelia came back first, covered in wounds, bolts and arrows sticking out of her cloak and body. Cradled in her arms, the ape she had brought with her.

She took one look at me and grimaced. “I guess it didn’t work out?”

“No, it did not. I’ll explain inside.” I took a good look at her, “Are you good?”

“Maybe, I was good at first, but they quickly realized I had a bit of a liability, and well, that made it a bit more difficult. If it weren’t for your familiar, I’m not sure I’d be back in one piece.”

“Was it really wise to bring her?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Ophelia responded, holding the ape tight in her arms.

I wasn’t going to question her. Though, “If you don’t have to, don’t dismiss your uniform, we might need to fight our way out.”

She nods, “Yeah, I figured as much. They’re really active and don’t seem like they’re going to quit. We might even have to stay here until they do.”

“Maybe, we’ll see when we debrief.”

With that said, Ophelia nodded and entered. Shortly after she went inside, Orion arrived, limping. If Ophelia was in a bad state, Orion was in a much worse state. He was nearly dead. Large cracks covered his frame. Bolts and arrows dotted his body. One leg was so badly damaged he couldn’t even properly put his weight on it without it crumbling.

He left a trail of ice in his wake. Yet, when he looked at me, it was with pride. A smug kind of pride as if his surviving was a snub against me. It was funny, even pulling out a chuckle from my tired frame.

“If you were expecting praise, don’t. I told you already, this was your punishment, remember?” Yet, despite my words, I couldn’t help but smile. And his attitude was commendable enough, so… “Regardless, good work making it back. Unfortunately, we still have more work ahead of us, so rest while you can, Orion.”

The moment I finished, Orion fell to the ground. Slipping into what I could almost call slumber. With a soft sigh, I turned and moved him closer to the other knights before leaving him.

Inside the tavern, it was deathly quiet, the thick walls did a good job of shutting out the shrieking and sounds of marching soldiers.

The overall mood had improved slightly with Ophelia’s arrival. Still, everyone was still trying to process our loss, myself included. Although, not everyone had the ice to help them along.

Unfortunately, now was not the time to wallow in despair.

“What’s the situation?” I ask Morrigan. Her hand was still on her neck, but her eyes were screwed shut.

“Not good. They’ve started targeting my crows, literally targeting my eyes. What I can say, is they are on the move. They are also aware we are here or at least, in this area. I’m not sure how the rest area works, but it is hiding us from them. The bigger issue is that they’ve blocked the entrance. The death knight’s even there, waiting for us.”

There was a choice curse on my lips, but I kept it in. Now was not the time for it. “Do you think we could bypass him?”

“No idea… honestly, I’m beginning to think that we’ve been punked. That death knight, that tin can wearing corpse, I swear they were holding back.”

“I don’t disagree…” I offered up. “They could have easily killed us when they powered up, but they didn’t. Not only that, but they let us leave. There was no way his boost ended that quickly.”

Morrigan swore. I couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment. We stepped in it; we’d flown too close to the sun. Tempted fate a bit too hard, and now we are dealing with the consequences.

“Does that mean that we’ll need to wait out the storm then?” I asked next.

“I don’t think we can do that…” Talia spoke up, her voice trembling. Everyone looked at her, and once she was the center of attention, she continued. “The past few days, in relative time, I’ve checked over the runes surrounding this area, marking this place as a rest area. Mostly out of curiosity, but I noticed something. The sigils are losing power, and by my estimate they’ll fail by the rise of the blood moon.”

I swore. Morrigan looked at me, surprised. I ignored that, “So we have no choice but to press on, is it?”

“I’m afraid so…” Talia said, voice trembling.

“How long will it take for you to recover?”

“Not long, but… I don’t think our uniforms will recover before the runes fade.”

The silence that followed was telling enough. Morrigan and Talia were out for the count. Shi was still fighting able, but without her uniform, her effectiveness was shot. Ophelia and I would recover, but I wasn’t sure if that was enough.

Add in my knights and… I wasn’t confident.

“I guess we have no choice… We’ll rest, recuperate and come up with an action plan. Or at least, the framework of one.” Nobody complained, but I could feel the growing dread, the realization that we might all not make it.

As the hours passed though, as we all recovered, that dread turned to resolve. A singular desire not to die, to push through. Information was gathered, resources pooled. Everything we had was brought forward, all in the hope of paving a way forward.

Unfortunately, there was no easy solution. No easy answer. The best plan we could come up with, was to wing it. Really, that was it. After all, staying here was no plan. Trying to evade the enemy forces would be nigh impossible without the rest area. We’d eventually be hunted down and taken out.

Better to take them head.

Still, it wasn’t like we didn’t make any headway. Even as they took out Morrigan’s crows, we quickly got an idea of how the forces were distributed, along with their patrol patterns, even if they were erratic.

Quickly, with Talia’s help, we established a basic idea of what paths we would have to take. Granted, these paths were a series of branching possibilities. Once that was done, we gathered up we could and started the process of moving out.

We took our time to rest and heal. We had plenty of coins to work with as well, should we need to make an emergency move, like having everyone forcefully manifest their uniform, but we decided it was better to wait and see. Once everyone was healed up and ready, knights included, we headed out.

We skulked through the alleys like rats. Doing everything we could to avoid patrols. The few patrols we met were crushed with extreme prejudice. Talia did her best to muffle sounds in the area to cover up the noise, but the surrounding chaos worked in our favor to cover our tracks. Even then, every encounter tightened the noose around our necks.

Despite the blistering pace, I could feel the inevitable. The surrounding army was closing in, ranks were tightening, the number of encounters we faced increased to staggering levels.

And yet… At some point, they stopped. The sounds of marching faded, the shrieking whistles had gone silent. An empty stillness replaced the chaos of before.

In that stillness, however, was a suffocating weight that pressed down on us. As we all knew, without a doubt, that were at the center of the storm. That at any moment, any second, they’d come crashing down on us.

Rather than speeding up, we slowed. We caught our breath, checked ourselves over. We continued forward, now being led to our destination. They weren’t even hiding it at this point. Blatantly blocking side passages, or alternative routes. Leading us right to the exit.

Right for our execution.

We were led out of the alleys onto the main road. The road was lined with skeleton soldiers. All of them were watching us as we walked on by. At the far end of the road, where the exit lie, where we entered from, stood the death knight, mounted atop a skeletal steed.

Around the death knight, were his retinue, the Dullahans we had slain. Morrigan clicked her tongue, annoyed that they were back. I couldn’t blame her, but I suppose that was bound to happen. Especially since we did not claim the coins.

Though, if we had claimed the coins, would this whole production even have happened? Would the death knight have allowed us to escape? Would they be waiting for us like an executioner would a prisoner at the end of the green mile?

I wasn’t sure, but it felt connected. The death knight radiated a smug joy as it took in our suffering, our perceived despair. We knew we were outclassed, and it took glee in that.

Despite our imminent end, and the very literal dead end facing us, we didn’t stop. We moved forward until we were before the death knight.

He looked down at us, enjoying the sense of superiority he felt. Yet, he did not move to attack, if anything, he motioned with his blade. The intent clear.

“He wants one of us to stay…” Talia interpreted. Though, stay, was a polite way of saying, die.

More specifically… if one of us offers our life, the others could go.

I didn’t doubt the offer. As an undead, rather, as a death knight, they followed a set of codes. A twisted set of morals, rules that guided them. It was a way to preserve who they were, to keep themselves from degenerating.

I didn’t have to look over the group to realize what was about to happen, so, I stepped forward.

“I’ll stay then.” I announced, a beat before Morrigan could offer herself up. The others frowned, everyone seemed shocked by my decision, but… One look silenced any detractors.

“I’m the leader of this expedition; I should take responsibility for its failure.”  Was what I said, and I meant it, at least, mostly.

Morrigan sacrificing herself, made sense. She was the one to give us the information, to goad us into fighting the death knight. Although I was the one that wanted to do it, Morrigan had her own reasons to push the fight as well.

It was clear Morrigan felt she was responsible for this. That she should have been stronger, that she should have known that the death knight was playing with her.

I didn’t blame her. Nor did I think her choosing to sacrifice herself was a bad idea. The issue was, I was greedy. And based on what I was seeing, what I was feeling, the beginnings of a plot were stirring.

She looked ready to argue, Morrigan did, but another long look kept her quiet. I then looked over to the Death Knight, “Surely my life would suffice?”

The knight looked at me, long and hard. I could see him weighing my words, my thoughts, but…

He nods in the end. The path opens. My knights, and the others step forward, but only Morrigan pauses, her eyes were on me. I couldn’t quite parse what the emotion on her face was, what she was thinking.

Only… “Please, don’t die. Not like this…” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

My answer, was a firm nod. She bit her lip. Looked ready to shout, argue, to offer herself up once more. But, instead of words, she simply drew blood as she tore into her lip and moved towards the exit.

She didn’t look back. The others all gave me a final glance as they moved through the exit and beyond. Once they were clear, the surrounding soldiers closed ranks. My fate sealed. Or, so it seemed.

“I assume I die now, is that it?” I asked, unafraid, the ice coursing through my veins. At my words, the death knight looked at me, curious. “Or, perhaps you’d care for a wager?”

At my words, or perhaps my audacity, the death knight of all things laughed. It was high and hollow. As if echoing through distant halls, filling the air, chilling it. Sapping the warmth from the surroundings. Luckily, I was not flesh and blood right now. Only ice.

The death knight did not speak, only motioned. Like a king granting a request. Filled with arrogance, nonchalance. As if, no matter what I said, it would hardly change the outcome.

“A final bout. You and me. Winner takes all.” Was my response.

Again, the death knight laughed, but they did not deny me. Instead, they dismounted and sent their steed away and had their retinue back off, forming into a ring, an arena for us to fight.

Once ready, he motioned with his hand, the intent clear. The first move was mine.

Could I win? Did I even have a chance? No… No, I did not.

With a stomp, I shot forward, bayonet held forward.

The death knight pivoted, avoiding the tip, before swinging their blade at my side. With a shift of my own, I brought my rifle between me and the strike. Successfully taking the blow with the body of my rifle.

The strike, left a notable gash, and sent a lance of pain through my being, but that was just the start. Our bout began in earnest. For every strike I made, the death knight returned one in kind. Matching me, blow for blow.

I did not shy away from the strikes. Taking them head on as I pressed forward. It became apparent that he was holding back. That he was a mite slower than when he had fought Morrigan. His swings were less heavy; his every strike and blow weren’t aimed at vitals. Even then, I blocked the blows and retaliated.

It was an unpleasant dance. Where every strike was met with an agonizing strike. Not unlike a whip cracking along my back. Leaving marks on my being. However, there was a benefit to the pain. There was no blood to draw from when I successfully blocked, and the few strikes that did hit, drew little blood from my frozen body.

His boost was clearly gone from before. His sword did not glow with that same bloody glow. I could hear my rifle crying from the abuse. The pain compounding with every strike, like countless ants were eating me alive.

I could tell, he liked it. He could feel my pain, he luxuriated in it. The events playing out before him, were like the finest of delicacies. A fine wine that had to be savored and enjoyed. Not simply quaffed down.

With that in mind, he slowed further. Presenting more openings, allowing me to make striking glances, minor blows. To give me hope, a possibility of turning this around.

It was to entice me above all else. To keep the show going, but… that was not the kind of play I was going for. I pressed, I took the chances given, but it wasn’t enough. No, not for him. No, he needed more. That little bit of garnish, that little bit extra to really make this meal memorable.

So, he gave more leeway. Allowing me more strikes, allowing me to make striking blows that gouged his armor. That left wounds hissing as silver cut into his being, purging his existence.

The pain did not anger him, if anything, it only further excited the death knight before me. He felt he was close, so very close to his desired conclusion. He needed only a final bit, a final step to get the outcome he so desired.

With at in mind, his style changed ever so slightly. His stance tightened, the blows he allowed grew fewer in number, but in the clashes, I felt it. Like a growing crescendo. A shift in our momentum, like the moments before a pendulum swings in the opposite direction.

He was leading me in this dance. Had been for the whole time. And now, it was the final moment. The big moment. A slight overextension on his part, exposing a weakness, an opening I had no choice but to take advantage of.

My bayonet snapped forward, the tip punching into his chest like a proper spear, slipping through his guard like a viper.

There was a flicker in my demeanor, a slight tilting of my lip, the smallest of smiles, of a victory well one.

Not because I killed the knight. No, but because…

In that moment, the bayonet thrust into his chest, the death knight’s demeanor took a sudden change. He did not hold back. His magic burst forth, lashing out like a maelstrom that threatened to blow me off my feet. His very presence pressed down on me, as if death itself were bearing down my person.

Yet, it did not crack my ice. I’d felt the sensation of death far too many times, felt his scythe at my throat, gracing the ice covering my mind and soul. Far too many times for just this too phase me.

Yet, the death knight didn’t notice. He couldn’t notice, not in the midst of his fervor, his ecstasy. So, he followed through with his act, believing me frozen still, though, he was not incorrect, and he swung with all he had.

There was no way I’d take the blow, normally. And yet, taking the blow normally had never been my intent. I coordinated my uniforms defenses, felt it surge to the fore, that protective shield. The timing was perfect, on point.

The very moment his blade hit me, was the moment my defenses were at their peak. In a sudden surge of energy, the outer layer of my uniform burst into specks of light, the rebounding energy jolted back the death knight’s blow, nearly jarring the blade free of his hands.

With power surging through me, I didn’t pull my rifle free. No, I twisted the blade and used it as leverage to pull him close with all I had. My knee cracked into his chest, deforming the metal armor, the blow, the force behind it momentous, calamitous even as the sound of his bones crunching could be heard far and wide.

Yet, it still wasn’t done. Even after the rebound and powerful blow to his chest, his eyes still sputtered with un-life. His flames flickered, confused, shocked, like when a cornered rat decided to leap forward and bite the cat.

He had not expected this. This was not part of his plan, his play. What I’d done, was made a fool of him. Due to that, his magic surged ever higher, the density enough to push me back, and with that push, I just barely managed to wrench free my rifle.

His armor flared, blood red runes burned along his body, gushing out magic as his body flooded with power. There was no grace, no intelligence in those eyes, merely hatred. A bestial rage that ruthlessly drowned and buried what cruel intelligence the death knight had.

And because of that, I knew what move he would make next. His arm, the one still holding his blade if only just, came swinging at a wild arc. A slight step back had it pass by my throat, leaving a small line as evidence of its passing. He stomped forward to close the distance, readied his weapon for another wide swing.

This time, the angle was right. I stepped inside his swing, leaning back so that the blade would go high, passing right by my face, touching the tip of my nose. At the same time, my foot lashed out, a silver blade manifesting at the base of my boot. The arc, was just right, the moment the arc of his swing ended, my blade met the joint where his forearm and elbow met.

The silver blade cut through with ease. Slicing through aged, corrupted metal with zeal. Sending the limb flying, blade still in hand. The pain, the agony, the sudden loss sent the death knight into a stupor.

Froze like a frenzied dog that had its nose bopped by a rolled-up newspaper. Anger fled, replaced instead by sheer confusion as they looked at their now stump of an arm. Only for its gaze to drift to where its sword landed, blade embedded into the stone upright, with its hand still gripping the hilt.

It rallied itself, prepared for a second bout of anger, frenzy, but… a volley of bullets sang out, cracking into joints, weakening them, making the knight stumble as I threw out a cluster of hissing grenades.

Instantly, my vision expanded, and at the same time, diminished the knight and his guards’ senses. Now was the time only…

I wasn’t going to win this fight. No, I had other plans. Other ideas.

I did not hesitate. With him blinded, I ran over to retrieve his blade, The very moment I gripped the hilt and tore free the hand still clenched to it, the death knight howled. At the same time, pain lanced through my being, emanating from my hand. As if the blade’s hilt were covered in spikes that had punctured into my flesh. I felt my lifeblood flowing into it, feeding the hungering blade as the runes along its face slowly filled in and glowed with power.

Ice kept me calm as the death knight, now aware of my presence lunged at far too fast a speed for me to react, normally. But with a flare of crimson, the runes along the blade hummed and buzzed, granting me a jolt of power and speed. Granting me the chance to pull away from the death knight’s frenzied strike.

Sensing the further desecration of its weapon, the knight howled once more, but the tone changed, shifted. In response, the Dullahans, the surrounding undead all shuddered and moved to hem me in and eliminate me.

In that moment, however, under the influence of my rime, an opening was made. An opening I made for with gusto. With a final, urgent surge of energy, the blade drank freely of my essence, granting me the means to bolt through the line. The moment I was free, blades formed at the soles of both my feet, and propelled me ever further away as behind me, the knight howled in ever rising anger.

A breath, an instant was all it took before I burst out and through the entrance, towards the arena. Silver blades sliced through the stone as I pushed myself further and faster away.

Then I heard it. A chilling howl, a scream of ecstasy denied. Of betrayal most foul.

I did not stop. Even as the horde stirred, even as the death knight bounded after me like a beast, a horror from the depths. Unfortunately for it, I was a tad too fast. Even at its best, the death knight fell short.

Its howls and screams faded as I blew past the arena, and out into the corridor, where I ran into the others, each waiting, discussing what they were going to do. My knights perked up, the distant howl, the desolate cry echoed from behind, along with the sound of hooves.

“We have to leave, now!” I announced and before any of them could begin to question what I was demanding, I threw the hungry blade into Morrigan’s embrace. Only when they heard another howl, only much closer did they run too.

I dismissed my blades, to run at the head of our formation. We didn’t stop or pause as we went. Even as I felt hot blood flowing freely from the hand that had held that accursed blade, leaving a trail in our wake. The sounds the cries only stopped when we left the Catacombs. Even then, We continued to run, making our way through the Waterworks and Sewers at record rates until we finally burst out of the depths right into the midday sun.

Each of us panted and gasped. Wheezing for breath as we nearly collapsed from exhaustion. As we recovered, only Morrigan approached me, blade still in her arms. And unlike me, it didn’t seem to be drinking her dry.

Morrigan worked her jaw. Blinked rapidly. She looked ready to break down into tears, like she was about to break into a million pieces as she stared at me. I could tell, she had a million questions, but I didn’t have the energy to answer any of them. I said nothing as I checked the time and confirmed the date and readied myself for the next task.

After all, it was Friday morning and I had someplace to be…

“Keep it.” I said, pre-empting any possible response. “We can talk about repayment later. I have somewhere to be.” Was what came out of my mouth. Before she could even argue I had everyone piled into our truck and we were on the road. Leaving her standing there, with no idea what the hell had just happened.

“Talia, you’ll have to unpack the truck. I’ll get changed in the office and head right out for work.” I ordered.

She didn’t argue. Nobody asked what had happened, or what was going on as I floored it…