An hour and a half of a hard run with their horses, where they forced her to display her powers without a word, had them arrive at the rest of the slow-moving army. They numbered at least four thousand and had her a change of clothes, fed dried meat and replaced her broadsword with an axe on a pole? It felt good to swing at least.
She followed behind the mage before who insisted she stay close whilst they travelled.
"Can I ask some questions?" she said quietly.
"You may," he responded bluntly.
"Is this world dying?"
She felt a few eyes turn to her at that before the mage asked, "Yes," he said, "Slowly, you are here to secure our lands and aid us in this battle. Objections?"
"If I did object, would you send me back home?" She wanted to get a good look at the fella's face. He had a good voice that she hoped matched.
"Yes," he replied curtly, "Do you?"
"What are my rewards and accommodations?" she said.
"That will be for those in Dorcus to inform you of, we are from Hercan." he raised a hand, "Undead wave at three o'clock, mile off. Prepare to destroy." he dismounted and stood in front of Amelia now, let down his hood to reveal an aged face with scars and piercing blue eyes, "Allow me to inform you, Carbyne."
She nodded.
"There are two types of magic in this world that native humans can use," he raised two fingers, "Pyromancy and divinity. Pyromancy is far more common, divinity is rare and only earned through those whom our God calls. Thus, it is kept for appropriate reasons, which is why you will not see me in battle today."
"Okay," she said.
He arched an eyebrow at that, "Is that what you say for yes?"
"Something like that, sir,
"She said, "Yes,".
He nodded approvingly, "Good manners, you were raised well, Nullshader. My name is Gwyllion Malainedred. Ser Gwyllion or Crusader Gwyllion is the best way to address me."
"Ser Gwyllion," she said.
"As it will be," he said almost poetically, "Pyromancers, prepare yourselves, Somnus, Eithne, Vik. Prepare to annihilate the wave of undead biomass in the name of the Ancient of Days and Grand Creator."
I'm never sudcing this man, am I?
Those of papality hold their convictions until death. They are the best defence against the blights of the planet.
Do you provide information at your bloody convenience?
Systems are being restored remotely by Tolmyr Nullshade as he recasts the spell to correct issues. He sends his apologies.
With how things seemed to be going, she had no bloody clue if he was in her head or out there. What is the origin of the spell, what's the object of focus, and how did it interact with her? So many questions. But for now, she wanted the satisfaction of seeing some zombies die.
Minutes of silence passed as she saw small sparks around the three men and women Ser Gwyllion called forward.
Then she saw the wave, about a mile off, surging toward them in a torrent that tumbled across the dead plains before it swung up. Then slammed into the ground. It spread in a large wave. The spread biomass collected up into hundreds of sprinting zombies.
"Hamala created the undead to sweep the lands as annoyances to stifle trade. They are cheaply made, an endless battle that the daemonlord forces us into; thus, we advance and continue to advance," he said with that sexy, silky, smooth as vodka, damned near Shakespearean accent.
Bloody sexy bastard.
"I can handle this, Ser," said long long-haired, blonde man.
"We await your technique, Vik," said a woman.
How strong is he? She watched the man carefully with something that felt like anxiety tightening a knot in her head.
Significant progress in the spell is required to display the requested stat screen for others.
Going by the feeling you have in your now-developing sixth sense, he would one-shot you with a wave of his hand.
"Vik is a specific type and a rarity, observe, Carbyne, so you may learn."
The tall, blonde beau of a man snapped his fingers on a piece of wood, chucked it on the dirt a few meters ahead of him and watched it burn. Ammy looked at him, then the wood in confusion. Then she observed that the smoke did not waft up until it would normally dissipate in the air. Instead, it sat just over head height and ballooned in size rapidly. She felt the heat radiate off the smoke cloud as it lifted up at least two hundred meters in the sky above them. Bolts of lightning surged throughout the cumulus mass. It bloated further until the stick of wood completely burned out. The cloud had grown to the size of a massive oak tree.
The horde of undead speeding toward them was welcomed by bolts of red, orange and purple lightning from the cloud. The animated corpses erupted into blood and guts. She winced when a little bit of it got on her. Then the lightning began to chain rapidly through the remaining horde, quickly flatlining their numbers to zero.
Vik rubbed his hands together and smirked to himself, "We spit on your work, Hamala."
I need a piece of that man."That was crazy." She exhaled.
"Does Nullshader ride a horse?" a voice called.
"I don't know how to," she replied.
"You will learn on the way," Ser Gwyllion said, "Time is against us." he swung around and ushered for her to follow as if the act they'd just watched were everyday fireworks.
She was given quick instructions on how to ride a horse as a lady. The awkwardness of swinging up with a penis between her legs, accompanying her vagina and anus, was only a slight difference... with balls down there, she'd have to swing her leg around— maybe she was overthinking.
She found a strange familiarity as if she had known how to ride distantly. They set off at a walk that slowly ramped up to a canter. The speed difference was noticeable already, almost like having a car, if the car needed breaks to alternate speeds.
"How far away is Hercan?"
"We're not going to Hercan." Gwyllion replied, "We will escort you to Dorcus Seamine, battle any foes that are nesting and return to our duties." he slowed to ride at her side, "Salem is at war, child, the millions of people of Salem are all playing their roles to further the cause. Farmers, cooks, smiths, soldiers, mages and the papacy. You are the newest kind, the Nullshader who will live within our territories and destroy the creatures who lurk in dungeons."
She nodded, "And pay?"
"Discuss that with Wizard Tolmyr," he said curtly, "Were you a serf in your previous life?"
"I guess so?" She resisted the urge to twirl her hair. If she fell off this horse and died, who knows where she'd respawn.
"Consider yourself a mercenary offered a negotiable contract. My great uncle has informed Tolmyr that unless he wants to lose his head, he will negotiate with all those summoned," he said gently, "Our world is dying, Carbyne, and we would all appreciate your aid in clearing a most dangerous threat spawned by the demonlord Ephem. She is a cunning wench of a creature that we will eventually return to nothing, until then—"
"Keep chatting me up like that and I might ask for a ring," she chuckled.
"I am already engaged, but I appreciate the compliment." He gestured forward, "Gallop, then we slow to trots."
He turned to look at her, and something felt off about the man's eyes, the glimmer of hope a leader should have... wasn't present.
"Ser Gwyllion," she said quietly, "Can you win?"
"All things, for victory, Carbyne," he said, "I operate on rationality, not hope."
Rationality without hope? She avoided scowling at the idea. If they could send me home, why would they? I'd just find myself locked in a cell and put to forced labour. So long as I get what I want in the end, I'll take the trade. No different from selling your soul to a corporation for them to give you drugs, sex and alcohol. Except she could respawn to renew herself.
Four and a half hours went by with consistent dried meat snacks, gulps of water and light conversation when she spotted the outpost built around the Dorcus Seamine. This time, unlike the other outposts, it was tall, with curved objects in the middle that were supposed to do God knows what. Magic structures to generate some kind of power? Or maybe they were hopeful and were able to conjure the spell because of some new steps in their understanding of the world?
Regardless, the place looked much better than those ghost-town oggin places from before. Walls high as one story, buildings each built with batteries for archers. The watch towers were about four stories tall, with men visible in them on the move.
As they passed through the wood gates pulled by massive chains, a party set out to meet them.
"Carbyne Nullshade, you are to report to Tolymr Nullshade and be prepared to dive into the Seamine to begin a rescue operation," a soldier said, "Come with me."
No need to catch my breath, wank one off or have a drink, eh?
"Thanks for your help, Ser Gwyllion. I'll never forget it."
He gestured for her to go on and nodded.
She gave him a small wave goodbye.
He returned the motion.
In the outpost, the tension hit her in the face harder than the jet-powered bulldozer that was the stink of the dragon that nearly ate her on her first life here. Men and women in armour waited around, hand son their axes, maces, swords, spears and other assortments of weapons. Some of them elected to shadow-fight, and the pubs were all shut up or serving water. Something in this place drew her toward the middle. No, it was more of a compass. The dungeon? The power to know where dungeons were couldn't be unique to her, with how on edge these lot are.
"Who am I rescuing?"
"The scouting crew for Dorcus, they went ahead to gather information and have not returned a messenger in two hours." he said, "Wizard Tolmyr Nullshade, you did not need to come out-"
"Nonsense," said a haggard voice of an ancient man, "Carbyne, my sincerest and dearest bloody apologies at collosally botching your summon. Any price, you name it, it shall be yours for this job. Just please save those scouts right away, we will arm you with weapons now, it is the time for harsh action and decisive slaughter of demonkind."