Nesptah conjured another ball of foul green mist and cast it out. As soon as it struck an enemy, the mist broke apart and invaded their body.
The man’s flesh withered, his hair grayed, and his face aged. His movements slowed to a crawl to match his elderly appearance. It was as if most of the life force was sapped from him. He didn’t even have enough energy to raise his arm against the sword that severed his neck.
Nesptah struck more with his foul mist without rest, as his underlings finished off the helpless enemies. Together, they massacred the petty thugs around him with vainful abandon.
An arrow pierced his shoulder and caused him to stumble back. Without his help, his underlings were overrun by Gilgamesh’s marauders and then he was set upon and butchered.
But he died with a smile of mockery. As soon as he breathed his last, necrotic mana surged from his corpse. His own flesh withered and decayed, and Nesptah rose as an undead.
[ Lich - Undead (Iron Rank) ]
The lich grabbed the heads of the two nearest to him with surprising might and drained their souls. The foul mist it conjured in his hands grew many times larger than before, and each one claimed multiple lives on its own.
Neither arrows nor blades seemed to matter to it. The lich did not react to a bolt that sank into his chest, nor a blade that severed its arm. Finally, an axe cleaved its head in half and the lich fell.
But the energy of life surged forth. Its putrid flesh restored, its wounds healed, and Nesptah rose in his original form. Just to catch a glimpse of a Bomber that destroyed his feeble body entirely.
Gilgamesh watched as the necrotic mana surged once again, even without physical form, and a vengeful spirit emerged. Its body was a ghostly cloak of darkness. Within its hood, its face was shrouded in pitch black and dark spikes jutted out from its head like a crown.
An aura of fear radiated forth to inflict all those nearby with uncontrollable terror, and its clawed hands glowed a haunting spectral blue as they maimed through their victims. The claws passed through armor and flesh without so much as a scratch, but all those struck fell deathly pale and collapsed dead on the ground.
[ High Wraith - Undead (Iron Rank) ]
The High Wraith massacred even more easily than the lich. It seemed completely impervious to physical attacks, as all such attempts did nothing at all, but a ball of frost struck clean.
“All of you with magic, target the wraith!” Gilgamesh ordered.
The high wraith was fast enough to avoid most attacks, but the hail of spells was too great. Still, it was to no avail. The moment the high wraith perished, its lingering soul flared again, and the Narmer scion resurrected once more.
Gilgamesh’s eyes narrowed. He knew this cycle would continue endlessly. Even depleting the Narmer’s mana would accomplish nothing, as the soul resurrection seemed to gather all it needed to work. He had hoped that leaving nothing of the Narmer to become an undead would be enough, but it seemed things would not be so easy.
The Narmer clan’s resurrection was stronger here in the Tower than what he knew of it on Earth. Those who died were simply preserved in royal tombs and could do little but barely communicate for short periods of time.
Ancients were said to walk and reside amongst the living, but that took many centuries to have a chance at achieving. Now, here in these Trails, it appeared that all Narmer would be akin to ancients and more.
Nesptah conjured two balls of green mist and cast them at Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh tried to block them with his Boulder Ape, but the spells sailed right through its arm. He maneuvered his Forest Hand to pull him out of the way just in time, but the two unfortunate souls behind him withered to a decrepit state.
Gilgamesh took keen wariness of the foul mist. He did not know what that attack was, or whether it would even affect his golem body, but he did not intend to test his luck against it.
“Know yourself, and you shalt not be humbled.” Nesptah spoke loudly in his arrogant assurance of victory. But Gilgamesh was not discouraged.
He had his Boulder Ape throw another Bomber. Nesptah welcomed the death with more mockery, but it was not raw force that greeted him. A web of yellow lightning surged out and wreathed around him. The lightning did not kill him, nor even harm him to much extent, but the Nesptah collapsed to the ground unconscious. Yellow sparks flickered over his body as it twitched and spasmed.
[ Lightning Bomber - Golem (Low Grade) ]
Attributes:
Strength - 5
Agility - 5
Vitality - 25
Perception - 10
Force - 65
Spirit - 15
Control - 25
Willpower - 0
Feature: Self Destruction (bronze)
Material: Lightning Clay (low grade)
Mana Capacity: 150/150
Consumption: 6 motes per minute
Recovery: 3 motes per minute
[ Lightning Clay ]
'A low grade clay with latent lightning properties.'
Clay was by far the weakest of all the golem materials that Gilgamesh had encountered so far, but it had an interesting quality. It could fuse with other metal and even the 'elements' to become a Low Grade version of itself. And when met by a sudden infusion of raw mana, such as an explosion, that Clay form of the Bombers would alter the nature of its blast into one comprised of that element.
Lox could not explain how that process worked, but all that mattered was that Gilgamesh could acquire Bombers with a variety of effects. And he had spent a great deal to ensure he had a wide variety.
The only catch was that a Bomber then naturally required 25 Vitality to maintain this Low Grade material, which meant that it was not as powerful as a normal Bomber. Still, utility often proved more crucial that raw might, such as in this very instance.
Narmer could not die, at least not by normal means. But Giglamesh did not have to kill his enemies. He just had to win.
But as he was about to turn his attention back to the enemy army, a dagger flung out of the shadows and sank into Nesptah’s skull. The yellow lightning still sparked, but it no longer mattered. Nesptah rose as a lich once more.
The lich conjured its foul wisps again, but this time it did not cast immediately. Instead, it swelled them to a far larger and more powerful extent, one that would be difficult to escape. And Gilgamesh had his Boulder Ape throw another Bomber.
Nesptah cackled. “Fools never learn!”
But what exploded forth this time was neither fire nor lightning. It was silver. A blast of glowing silver dust eroded the lich’s decrepit flesh to his cries of agony. So excruciating was the pain that Nesptah’s cast over his foul wisps broke, and the mana dispersed away into the air.
[ Silver Bomber - Golem (Low Grade) ]
Attributes:
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Strength - 5
Agility - 5
Vitality - 25
Perception - 10
Force - 65
Spirit - 15
Control - 25
Willpower - 0
Feature: Self Destruction (bronze)
Material: Silver Clay (low grade)
Mana Capacity: 150/150
Consumption: 6 motes per minute
Recovery: 3 motes per minute
Gilgamesh knew the might of the Magi, and he had come prepared. He had learned from the bandaged vampire that silver was what truly affected the undead. More specifically, Truesilver. It was a purified and enhanced product of alchemy far beyond mere Low Grade, but he could mimic its effect to a small extent with a sudden influx of mana. A requirement he could satisfy with his Bombers.
He had expected their weakness to be fire, but that would only cause a normal death and repeat the cycle of resurrection. Silver harmed them on a fundamental level. Gilgamesh did not know the exact reasons behind it, nor did he need to. All he required was for it to work.
The lich tried to cast again, but Gilgamesh struck it with another Silver Bomber before it could finish. More of its body eroded away, little by little. A third silver bomber struck, then a fourth. Strangely dense azure mist began to leak out from the lich as panic befell its decayed, unmoving face. But there was nothing it could do. The fifth bomber finally sealed its fate, and the lich crumbled to dust and its soul dispersed.
[ Nesptah - Hero (Iron Rank) ]
Attributes:
Strength - 5
Agility - 6
Vitality - 12
Perception - 10
Force - 35
Spirit - 29
Control - 18
Willpower - 11
Talents:
Necrotic Gas lvl. 3 (bronze), Drain Touch lvl. 2 (bronze)
Traits:
Pharaonic Soul (sacred),
[ Necrotic Gas (bronze) ]
‘Conjure a spectral ball that inflicts necrosis.’
[ Drain Touch (bronze) ]
'Siphon mana from a target through physical contact.'
[ Pharaonic Soul (sacred) ]
'Cross the boundary of living and dead upon death and undeath.'
“One down.” Gilgamesh scanned the battlefield.
It was an expensive victory. He had used all five silver Bombers he had bought. In fact, he had already used quite a lot of his arsenal in general, and he had spent half of his mana in the process.
“I need to end this quickly.”
Gilgamesh activated a Clay Salamander and had it ride atop the Boulder Ape’s shoulders. He commanded the Stone Ape to charge deep into the fray and rampage as he wielded the Salamander to breathe poison down on the enemy.
“Taking out the elites is only the first step. An army of this size is a threat on its own.” Gilgamesh glanced to the other side. “This will only work if she succeeds…”
---
Heroine wove through the hectic melee of fighters while she conserved as much of her strength as possible. She bashed away an enemy that drew too close and continued pushing towards the woman with the black rose tattoo.
“Why did I accept this danger…? I should have said no. But this is the only way. It worked last time. Gilgamesh is capable. But he didn’t predict this. Is he not capable? Is he discarding me so he can escape? Should I not trust him…?
Heroine drew close enough to the black rose woman that she gained her attention.
“I hope they aren’t as strong as last time. I want to run away…”
Another woman cut off her path before she could reach her target. A brute of a woman with long dreadlocks tied back and a black rose tattoo on her neck. Her hands clenched into fists and those fists turned to stone.
“Stone Fist…” Heroine recognized the Talent at once, a mere Iron tier one. “Weak.”
Heroine outmaneuvered her with a feint and struck clean with her mace. But a dull, pulsing force emitted from the woman’s head that halted the impact of her strike completely.
“Bastion!” Heroine shifted her stance. That was a Silver tier Talent, and better than anything she had.
Heroine glanced at the woman with the black rose tattoo, who had not moved an inch, and lunged to meet the brute woman in combat again. She attacked relentlessly and desperately, every single hit aimed to kill or cripple.
The brute woman had physical Attributes that rivaled her’s, but not the skill in combat. She dodged sometimes, but more often than not was forced to use Bastion. And her mana quickly ran out.
Wisps of mana sputtered around her with the failed attempt of her Talent. The woman tried to dart back, but Heroine stomped down on her foot to keep her in place and bashed her skull. An invisible protective light around the woman shattered on impact, but it did not reduce the force of Heroine's mace enough to stop her skull from breaking. But that still sent panic through Heroine's mind.
"Buffer!"
It was a Bronze Tier Spell that placed a veil of protection around the target, which would bear the brunt of all impact and damage they took. As a Bronze Tier Spell, it was on par with the passive Enchantment of her mace. Fortunately, it seemed to be nowhere near max level. Unfortunately, Heroine doubted that the brute woman she had just slain was the one who cast it.
Heroine turned to the black rose woman without pause, but two more with similar rose tattoos stepped out in front. Both felt to be on a similar level of strength as the brute woman. Heroine grimaced as she lunged into her range. Even if Buffer was low level, she had to make sure she struck as hard and as true as possible, as they was a chance it may not be fatal otherwise.
“If I kill them, will more take their place? How many more are there?”
Heroine swung her mace.
“Is the black rose woman weak? Or is she just wearing me down? This is dangerous. I should run away…”
Heroine swung her mace.
“We can’t win. I should run away. But where will I go? I can’t leave the slums. I need someone to stand guard while I sleep.”
Heroine swung her mace.
“I can trust Gilgamesh. No, I can’t trust anyone. I should run away.”
As Heroine drowned in her thoughts, the last of the guards fell with shattered bones, and she burst at the black rose woman.
Madame Hwa’s eyes sharpened, but they did not despair. She broke a ball of paper husk against the ground, and a smokescreen submerged them both in an instant. But Heroine did not slow.
She tracked her target through the smoke by nothing more than experience and intuition, and splattered her head open. But when the smoke cleared, it was someone else who laid dead on the ground.
“A scapegoat.” Heroine realized. “She ran away. Did she leave, or is she hiding? Will I get in trouble for not killing her? …Should I run away?”
A red smoke bomb exploded in the sky, and the enemy army around her retreated. A horn sounded in the distance, followed by a sharp whistle, and it sounded like the other armies were retreating as well.
“They’re leaving? We won? I won’t get in trouble? Should I still run away? No, it’s better to stay if we won.”
Heroine raced back towards Gilgamesh, her thoughts ever an anxious flurry and her eyes cautiously sharp.
---
Tiago retreated casually from the battle with a smile, despite having failed to achieve his main goal. His eerily calm eyes already looked towards what would come next.
“This isn’t at all what you promised.” A shadowy silhouette of Madame Hwa flew next to him. Her tone was composed but laced with the subtle threat of hostility.
“Yeah, I didn’t expect this much.” He admitted.
“...you don’t seem that bothered, even though we just lost half of our soldiers.” Her sharp eyes did not leave his.
“You would have lost even more if I hadn’t warned you before they showed up on your front door.” He looked back with friendly eyes as equally disreputable as hers.
“...The price of my alliance has doubled. I will not lift another finger until it has been paid.” Madame Hwa’s shadow dispersed away with her demands, but Tiago didn’t seem to care.
“Come running back with your tail between your legs, have you?” A short, old woman bluntly snapped as soon as he reached back to his base camp. Stern-faced and proud, she donned ancient eastern martial robes and walked with her fists behind her back, a visage of dignity and strength.
Tiago smiled. “I’ll need you to act after all.”
“Then show some progress on your side of the deal.” Wumei demanded.
“I have men running all through the bazaar. But you know, it’s a big place.” Tiago shrugged.
“Not big enough if you do not find my granddaughters.” Wumei threatened.
“Then I’ll just have to succeed.” Tiago gestured amicably. Not a single aspect of the day had bothered him in the slightest.
---
Gilgamesh took inventory of the battlefield as the survivors of his army looted freely. He had lost about half of his forces again, but that was a fairly light result given the circumstances. That said, it was far from promising.
“A war isn’t in our favor.” Gilgamesh admitted as soon as Heroine returned.
“So we’re going to run away?” She asked.
“No. The problem is Tiago. Everything can be resolved if we eliminate him and take over his gang. Then this whole territory will be our power to exploit.”
“Then…” Heroine thought. “We should attack right away. Before they can regroup.”
“Not yet.” Gilgamesh’s eyes glinted with a scheme.” There’s something else we need to do first.”
