Death: Genesis

From within a burned-out husk of a building, Silik watched as a fireball soared through the sky. It was the signal for which he had been waiting, and he felt his muscles tense in anticipation of the battle to come. Turning to his battle-hardened and elite squad, he said, “Come. We fight.”

Twenty massive fists slapped against leather armor as the squad signaled their agreement. With that, Silik set out from the charred building at a dead sprint. As he did, he embraced [Lightforged], wrapping himself in bands of white illumination that sent a surge of strength through him. The others did the same, so when they dashed from the building, there was no missing their passage. They could only hope to mitigate their visibility with sheer speed.

The area was mostly abandoned, and even the few pedestrians that would’ve otherwise been there had retreated at the sounds and sights of battle on the other side of the castle. Still, there were a handful that remained in the immediate vicinity, and they blanched at the appearance of the kobolds.

But that was the only reaction they were allowed before the legionnaires fell on them, ripping the civilians to pieces in the space of seconds. Their meager defenses were entirely ineffective beneath the sharp kobold claws, and the humans fell before they could even turn around.

Ak-toh might hesitate to kill the civilians, but the kobolds would not.

Silik restrained himself from using [Spear of Memories] as he swept forward, leading the charge as they tore through any humans they encountered. The robed elves and scattered beastkin laborers, they left alone. That had been one of Ak-toh’s most stringent orders, and Silik would have rather died than disobey the savior’s commands.

Part of that was sheer respect and appreciation. Ak-toh had been chosen by the Mother to save them, and he’d followed through. That alone made him worthy of obedience. However, that was only a portion of why Silik and the other kobolds revered him so thoroughly.

The kobold general had personally seen Ak-toh do the impossible, and on more than one occasion. He’d watched the man battle unending hordes of monsters, defeat incredibly powerful enemies, and unmake complex runes like it was nothing. To Silik, Ak-toh was akin to a god, and his status was only subordinate to the Mother herself.

But more than anything else, Silik revered Ak-toh for one simple reason: because he’d provided a home to the kobold people and given them the means to evolve into something better. Every time Silik saw one of his dull-eyed and less developed brethren, it felt like someone was stabbing him in the heart. The kobolds deserved better. The Mother had wanted more for them. And Ak-toh had provided. Every day, he saw more of his people claw their way out of monsterhood and into sapience. Soon, they all would.

And then, nothing could stop them from ascending right beside their savior.

With that surety driving him forward, Silik raced across the empty ground until they reached their destination. It was a small building about half a mile from the castle, but more importantly, it was the access point to the sewer system. They had considered entering it from the very beginning, but that route came with too much chance of discovery. It had been decided that the kobolds would wait for the signal elsewhere, then descend upon the sewers when the battle commenced.

The castle had its own closed system that was separate from the city’s sewers, but for a kobold, that didn’t really matter. Silik and his squad only needed a sheltered and concealed location from which to dig. The fact that it was underground only meant that some of their work had already been completed.

Fortunately, the castle’s defenders were busy responding to or watching the fight against Ak-toh and the others, so Silik and his elites were able to reach their destination without raising the alarm. And by the time they reached the sewers and started to dig through the stone, they were only met by a few civilian workers that quickly fell before the kobolds’ might. A couple managed to escape, but by that point, it didn’t matter. The battle had already begun, and the chance of the Knights or the city’s defenders responding to the small squad of kobolds was nil.

After all, the city’s guards and the Knights of Adontis had plenty of other things to worry about by that point.

* * *

Pudge signaled to the kobold rangers, and they took up a position that would give them line of sight on the trio of guards. Then, the rangers let loose, and Pudge raced forward. With his high agility and dexterity, he was capable of moving almost as quickly as the arrows. The projectiles thudded home just before he reached the guards, but none were enough to kill even those lowly enemies. The rangers were powerful, in their own way, but they were not deadly.

That was why Pudge was there.

Taking advantage of the rangers’ distracting attacks, he ripped through one throat before nearly disemboweling another guard. The third went down in a heap as Jasper – who’d remained hidden by his song – leaped into battle, spearing the surprised man with his rapier. Pudge launched himself at another defender, while Jasper spun and backhanded yet another. The bard wasn’t the strongest combatant, but he had levels and experience on his side. The guard had neither, and as a result, he went down with barely a whimper.

In seconds, a dozen guards had been silently killed.

Pudge glanced dismissively at the dead bodies, then shook the blood from his claws before bending down and retrieving a thick key ring. With that done, he and the others reentered stealth via various means, then stalked forward.

Over the next few minutes, they swept through the area, killing any guards unfortunate enough to find themselves in their path. Soon enough, there were none left to oppose the invaders, and Pudge used the resulting freedom of movement to make his way to the cages holding the imprisoned beastkin.

When he reached the first pen, he was once again appalled by the state of the enslaved. Most were naked, and their fur was patchy and lusterless. None looked well-fed, and their shoulders were hunched in exhaustion.

Or perhaps defeat.

Maybe resignation.

Whatever the case, Pudge had no intention of allowing it to continue, so he raised his voice and asked, “Is there a leader among you?”

“Timaso,” an old badgerkin said, gripping the bars of her pen like they were the only thing keeping her upright. She raised one emaciated arm and pointed further down the line. The cages were nothing elaborate. In fact, Pudge thought that he could break through them without issue.

Still, he used the key to unlock the door. As he did so, Jasper set off to find the leader. The old badgerkin woman almost collapsed when she tried to step free, and Pudge caught her. The others in the cage followed, then took Pudge’s too charge of the weak woman.

“Who are you?” came a gravelly voice. Pudge turned to see a lionkin following Jasper. He had, at one point, been powerfully built. However, ill nutrition and hard living had caught up to him, robbing his body of much of its mass. Still, he had the rangy musculature of someone well used to hard labor.

“My name is Pudge, and we are here to rescue you.”

“Pudge?” the lionkin asked.

“Yes.”

“Save us how? We can’t leave. The Knights will –”

Just then, a wave of mana swept through them, followed by the sound of an earthquake.

“We are not alone,” Pudge said. “And you don’t have to be anymore, either.”

* * *

Zeke smashed his hammer against the castle gate with enough force to knock down most buildings. In addition, it was backed by his Runebreaker technique. And yet, the gate survived.

He’d employed the technique often enough to know what it could do. So, he was both surprised and frustrated to see his efforts stymied. However, he quickly saw that the runes on the gate hadn’t completely resisted the technique. Indeed, they looked frayed and on the verge of unraveling, though he wasn’t sure how many more swings it would take.

He swung again, and his Will ate away at his body and soul. The Runebreaker technique wasn’t nearly as destructive as Worldbreaker; instead, it was intended for precisely what its name suggested. However, just because it didn’t literally rip him apart with every second it was employed didn’t mean that it wasn’t damaging.

But he couldn’t stop before he finished it off, so he swung again. It wasn’t until the fourth such attack that the runes finally shattered, and the gate broke apart. He kicked it in, and a thousand kobolds swarmed through the breach. For his part, Zeke drank deep from [Cambion’s Awakening], using it to hold his body together and soothe his charred soul. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to rest.

Because he had a castle to topple.

So, he rode the wave of kobolds into the castle, where he rejoined the battle. However, the Knights had discarded their horses in favor of a long shield wall that seemed to take advantage of some collective skill that allowed them to stand against the tide of kobolds. Meanwhile, there was another line of spear-wielding Knights directly behind the shieldbearers who used those spears to skewer the hindered kobolds.

It was an effective strategy, not least because the kobolds had held back their most devastating attack. So, Zeke raised his hammer high into the air and bellowed, “Spear of Memories!”

The kobolds responded in only a second, backing away to put some distance between themselves and the defenders. A moment later, they leveled their own spears at the shield wall, then let loose with their most devastating skill. A thousand beams of burning light scorched their way across the courtyard to hammer into the Knights’ shield wall. It stopped the skill, but that was expected.

It was only ever intended as a distraction.

Silik and his elites, having dug their way inside the castle, fell upon the Knights from the other side, laying waste to the comparatively unprotected spear-wielders. Meanwhile, Zeke charged forward, increasing his weight with every step until he crashed into the line of Knights with a shoulder tackle that buckled their shield wall.

From there, the battle devolved into a brutal melee. For his part, Zeke was an anchor, stoically holding his ground as he laid about him with his hammer. At the same time, the kobolds surged. Enhanced by [Lightforged], they were more than a match for any Knight. The only thing that kept the Knights of Adontis from being overwhelmed was an impressive level of discipline.

But it wasn’t enough.

Every participant in the battle knew it, too. The Knights had been outmaneuvered and outflanked, and though they probably expected to hold out until they got reinforcements from the city’s guards, Zeke knew there was no help on its way. The other force of kobolds had seen to that.

More, if Pudge had done his job, he and the other beastkin were in the process of taking over the city.

The battle was over. The Knights just hadn’t accepted it yet.

So, they fought to the bitter end, never surrendering even when they were injured, surrounded, and doomed. In a way, Zeke could respect that. But whatever positive feelings he harbored for the way they conducted themselves on the field of battle was squandered by the memory of the evil they had enabled. With that at the forefront of his mind, Zeke didn’t have to search for motivation to keep going.

Gradually, the battle wore on until, at last, the final Knight fell. Zeke let the head of his hammer fall to the ground as he looked around at the death and carnage around him. There were hundreds of dead Knights, but scattered throughout that mass killing field were the bodies of fallen kobolds. It made him sick.

“Gather our dead,” he said, glancing at one of the nearby kobolds. The legionnaire was painted in the blood of their enemies, which gave him an altogether fearsome appearance. Zeke didn’t know his name, but that wasn’t uncommon. He knew very few of them personally. “We will put them to rest in the tower.”

It was a spontaneous idea, but it was one he wholeheartedly accepted. The kobolds deserved more than to be laid to rest in enemy territory.

“It will be a learning experience for them, too,” Eveline pointed out. “Sapient beings care for their dead. Monsters and animals do not.”

Zeke responded, “We’ll have a real funeral. They need to acknowledge the sacrifices these people made.”

With that, Zeke took a few minutes to loot as many of the Knights as possible. He didn’t get anything unexpected. The Knights’ armor was bound to each individual, so it was only useful inasmuch as it could provide the tower’s blacksmiths with materials. Still, they had a lot of kobolds to arm and armor, so everything would be useful.

Once he’d finished with that, he summoned the gate so the kobolds could reach the Crimson Spring, then headed out of the castle to find Pudge and the rescued beastkin. He didn’t have to go far – just a few feet outside the castle – before he saw Pudge and Jasper leading a group of scraggly beastkin in his direction. He stopped and waited.

When Pudge reached him, he exchanged greetings, then asked, “Did you have any issues after freeing them?”

“No. But the leader wishes to speak with you,” Pudge said.

Zeke resisted the urge to shrug. He’d been trying very hard to be a good leader, and appearances were important He couldn’t afford to look indecisive in front of so many people who depended on him for protection and guidance. “Very well,” he said. “Let’s do it, then.”

With that, a thin lionkin was ushered forward. He was clearly terrified of Zeke – or perhaps of the pair of enormous kobolds on either side of him – but he hid it as well as he could. He nodded his great, maned head and asked, “Are you the leader?”

“He is Ak-toh,” said one of the kobolds.

“My name is Zeke,” Zeke said, wishing that he could let his colossal form fade. Even if it obviated the need to update his wardrobe, he hated how it made people look at him. It was mostly fear, but there was respect there as well. He clung to the latter, but he couldn’t afford to ignore the former.

“Are we free?” asked the lionkin.

“You are. If you have slave brands, I will remove them,” Zeke said. He wasn’t certain that he could use his Will to undermine the runic brands, but he expected that it would be no more difficult than dismantling a curse. And after doing just that countless times, he was well versed in taking curses apart. “You’re also welcome to join us.”

“Where?”

“The tower.”

The lionkin looked around. “I see no tower.”

“Then let me show you,” Zeke said. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Timaso,” the lionkin said.

“Well, Timaso – let me introduce you to the Crimson Tower,” Zeke said. Then, he turned around and strode back toward the gate. Timaso followed, and Zeke was pleased to note that the lionkin didn’t flinch at the sight of so many bodies in the courtyard.

Perhaps he would prove to be a valuable ally.

That remained to be seen. Pushing it aside, Zeke stepped through the gate, and the leader of the beastkin followed.