(12.1) Silver Sword

Howls of the Dead harmonise to create a bone-chilling choir that overlaps with the screams and battle cries of those that remain within the city.

Even though the sunlight still peeks through spaces in the cloud cover, the rolling clouds are quickly darkening. Leaving fewer and fewer spots for the sun to shine.

Caor, Dent, and Mirra all run in tight formation through the city, searching for any unevacuated civilians.

"Are you sure it's fine we left Phoebe back there?" Mirra stops in front of a door barricaded by a large stone rubble.

She grunts in effort to remove the slab while Dent pushes open the door only to find an ambush of Dead waiting for them.

A decaying zombie is the first to lunge, followed by a pair of draugr and a tall, fat zombie with multiple bulbous growths on its body.

"Bloater!" Mirra kicks the feet out under the zombie and leaps to the side.

The bloater charges forward, knocking over the pair of draugr in its attempt to tackle Mirra. Caor slashes his sword, letting loose an arcing blade of light at the enemies while Dent unleashes a gale of wind to cripple their balance.

"Disappear!" Mirra follows up with a mana-infused punch to the bloater. The air pressure from the punch, sending it flying away from them where it then explodes in a mess of bile and blood. Unfortunately, the draugr escaped the attack and the zombie only lost its arm.

"Our rhythm's off without her," remarks Dent, pointing his chin at the result of their attack.

Caor shouts a battle cry and uses another skill to form a ring of light around the zombie to destroy it. Mirra and Dent follow up and each easily dispatch the draugr.

"But our flow is still good!" counters Caor. "We can't ask her to go back into this after what happened. I mean, this is actually a real world and she lost a hand. Besides, we're still clearing these mobs like nothing!"

"Don't let your little crush impede your judgement, Caor. This is a battlefield. Besides, with the right spell, her hand can grow back in a few weeks." Dent scans the area around them, not bothering to look at Caor. "Should we assume this is like the quest from that game, we don't have weeks."

"I don't have a crush…"

Mirra balls her hands into a fist. "It was hard enough with a full party in-game. After finding out there are monsters here that weren't in what we know, we should stick to our training until we know more."

"Wait, but I wasn't a soldier like you two." Caor protests.

A scream and howls interrupt them. Cair leads the trio as they leave the side street into the main street called Polaris Road where they arrive at Polaris Square, an open plaza area bisected by the road and leading directly to the edge of the city lord's palace. 

Its strategic design makes use of perspective misdirection to make it look like a straight shot from the city entrance to the palace. Something the city guard used to their advantage to funnel their enemies. 

A perfect way to protect the citizens and provide a defensible location like now since they are currently locked in battle with the magic resistant Dead.

From their spot, they can see the plaza has been turned into a defensive zone, with multiple road entrances blocked off in haphazard manners to try and force the Dead to attack from one direction while the civilians evacuate through another.

Meanwhile, the trio is in a prime position to surprise attack the horde of Dead.

"Appears the Dead have mustered forces faster than we could finish clearing the surroundings." Dent observes thoughtfully.

"You're the most hardcore gamer out of all of us here, Caor. What are the odds we can defeat that many Dead?" Mirra pats Caor on the back, a satisfying clink of metal on metal ringing in the air from the contact.

"It looks like the standard array from the game," Caor's eyes rapidly skim the crowd of enemies. "Skeletons, zombies, draugr, a couple spectres. A number of skeleton mages near the back."

"Easy enough. Let us begin the monster-slaying." Dent unsheathes his sword.

Caor nods. "We can't do anything about the spectres but if it's like the game, they'll disappear when the draugr and skeleton mages go down. Focus on those then tackle the front. Hopefully the event tactic works for real."

"Not hopefully, it will." Mirra pounds her fists together. "Good on you to keep your cool here, now let's go."

Caor smiles and dashes ahead of his party. He slashes his sword forward, sending an arc of golden light to crash into the backline of the horde. Cheers from the defenders can be heard amid the din of the Dead's wails.

Following the opening move, Mirra leaps through the air for a plunging strike, shattering the draugr she landed on and cratering the cobblestone below.

The sheer force of the impact blows the surrounding Dead back onto their comrades.

Mirra spins on the spot and grabs a zombie by the throat. She crushes the spinal cord and uses the zombie as a makeshift ball and chain against the other Dead.

Caor joins her then, assisting her in carving a path to each draugr and dispatching them with practised efficiency.

Meanwhile, Dent has torn paths in the horde with powerful wind slashes strong enough to cut into the magically reinforced stones of the buildings.

The skeleton mages, no longer protected by layers of Dead, falter for a moment before turning their staves and wands on him. Spectres that were terrorising the frontline, attempting to break through a barrier to assail the defendants, fall upon Dent instead.

Dent leaps back a few metres and raises his sword above his head with both hands. "May the wind guide you to an eternal rest."

A razor sharp gale of wind encircles his blade. Dent swings down faster than the eye can see. Sharpened winds crash into the skeleton mages and nearby Dead. Those fortunate enough to be outside of the initial range are sucked into the vortex formed on impact.

Within moments, all enemies struck by Dent's attack have been shredded to dust. Though magical in cause, even immunity to magic can't defend from natural forces.

Without magical support or spectres, the horde of Dead appear to lose their organised attacks and begin to wildly pile on the nearest living thing.

"Watch yourself, Mirra!" Caor beheads a zombie that was coming up on Mirra's blindspot.

"Thanks!" Mirra raises a fist to the air and roars at the Dead that were beginning to overwhelm the frontlines.

Red mana overshadows most of the Dead and their attention immediately turns behind them. Empty sockets and decaying eyes lock on Mirra.

"Aggro'd them. I'll kite them away from the plaza, then you use your sky sword once it's far enough." 

"Don't push it, Mirra." Caor separates from Mirra and readies himself.

Mirra dashes back up the main road, a majority of the horde in tow.

Holes in the ground, scattered rubble, and even fallen Dead still capable of moving slow her ascent. Still she continues. Fighting is not a priority. Only drawing their attention.

She keeps moving forward, looking for a narrow enough spot far enough away from the plaza where Caor's spell won't impact them. Mirra sprints down the street, pulling more and more Dead to her.

There, up ahead is a narrow street. The many abandoned stalls of merchants and street vendors line the edges of the path.

Perfect for funnelling the Dead into one spot.

She points to the street, hoping Caor can see that much and pushes faster.

Mirra looks over her shoulder and repeats the skill once more. The waning red mana strengthens. Howls and wails of the angered Dead rise and they continue their chase with renewed vigour.

Over their heads, she looks to find Caor floating in the sky. Golden light cloaks him as he activates his skill.

"Keep the timing, huh, you ugly fuckers." Mirra points her middle fingers at them. "C'mon you assholes, I'm lookin' delicious aren't I? C'mon!"

A golden cloud forms overhead. Magical electricity crackles as the cloud illuminates the area in the immediate vicinity.

"You're gonna love this," Mirra smirks. She points her fists at the horde who've nearly fallen upon her. "Now freeze!"

The same red mana that surrounded them flashed yellow and suddenly they could no longer move. A few Dead stragglers, caught up in the stampede or otherwise unaffected by the skill, attempt to break free.

A futile effort. The golden cloud crackles loudly and a gigantic golden sword descends from the centre of the cloud.

Mirra runs clear of the area to a safe spot as the blade lands directly on the Dead and continues to bury itself in place.