Chapter 17: Chaos's Chosen Come With Evil Intent
Severin smiled and tried his best not to look exhausted as he stood across from this Mike character. After nearly two hours of fighting, he'd finally gotten the damn Gnome to open up a little.
“You sure are a tough little cuss. You sure I can't talk you into switching sides?”
Severin already knew that if the fight continued like this, sooner or later the Gnome was going to kill him. That wasn't a position he was accustomed to finding himself in. Most of the time, the outcome of a fight was decided before the first spell was cast. His next-longest fight before this one had lasted maybe ten minutes, and part of that had only been because Severin had spent too much time taunting the other guy once it became obvious he was going to win.
This time, things were going very differently. Time and stamina were not on Severin's side, and if he didn't find a way to end the fight soon, it was going to end with him dead.
“Stop stalling,” Mike said. “You know as well as I do how this is going to end.”
Unfortunately, Severin did.
Why hadn't he held back some of his undead? Even one Death Knight could have turned this fight around. Instead, he'd committed everything from the beginning, certain it would be enough. It was a mistake Severin prayed to the Gods of Chaos he would live long enough to regret.
Severin decided he very much wanted to live, so he played the only card he had left.
“True, but you know as well as I do this fight could still drag on for quite some time.” Severin held his arms out to the sides. “By the way, that last attack of yours really hurt. I'll admit, you kinda got me on that one, but as you can see, I'm far from beaten.”
“I've got time to do more of the same,” Mike said. “You're clearly getting tired, and you're leaving yourself more and more open to my strikes.”
Severin sighed. “True.”
“But is time on the Princess's side?”
Mike's expression changed, and Severin knew immediately he'd found the right pressure point.
“Isolated in that forest with only herself and three others. How long do you think she has before...” Severin let the question hang for a moment. “Well, let's just say you weren't the only one we recently gained information on.”
There it was. Severin saw fear in the Gnome's eyes, not for himself, but for the Princess. There was no point trying to lie to Mike. They could both separate lies from truth, and Mike had seen enough truth in Severin's words to know this wasn't a bluff.
“You lie!”
Severin couldn't help himself as he let out an amused laugh. “Really?”
“I'll be honest with you. I'm probably not going to live through this if it keeps going for, I don't know... say another hour or so.” Severin shrugged. “That's two hours the Princess doesn't have.”
In answer, Mike came at Severin with lightning speed. Severin countered with his own enhanced speed and deflected the dagger with his claws.
“Well, that was a bit sloppy. But I can't blame you for trying.”
Severin immediately followed with an attack of his own.
Rending Claws (Claw Attack Skill) — Lv. 5 — Unleashes a rapid series of claw strikes designed to tear through flesh and armor.
Just like before, the Gnome managed to dodge or block every claw strike Severin threw at him.
Mike immediately followed with a counterattack.
Severin now understood the attack to be called Rapid Strike. Mike was flexing on him, he realized as he was forced to give up several paces under the barrage.
That little shit.
Unfortunately, one of the strikes got through. Severin managed to partially deflect it at the last moment, leaving him with only minor damage.
Severin decided to play up the whole Princess angle.
“Tick-tock, little man. She's waiting.”
The look Mike gave him almost made Severin laugh again.
“Oh, man. If looks could kill.”
Severin watched as the Gnome went still for several seconds, his expression turning thoughtful. Mike's distraction left an opening, one of the very few he'd allowed during their entire fight, but Severin didn't attack.
He knew exactly what was going through Mike's head, and this time Severin gave him all the time he needed. He just had to hope the Gnome made the right choice.
“I swear to the Goddess, we will meet again, and when we do, I will have your soul and release the souls you hold.”
With that, the Gnome turned and sped off at a shocking pace.
“Wow. Those little legs really do cover a lot of ground for being so short,” Severin mused as he tried his best to follow Mike's rapid departure with his eyes.
Severin tilted his head in appreciation. “Gnomes really are cute little things. I need to see about getting one of my own.”
A rather unpleasant thought occurred to him just then. The little prick was fast. Far faster than Severin had expected. He might actually make it back in time to intervene.
If that happened, Severin would almost certainly be called before the Council, and they were going to have some very uncomfortable questions about exactly how Mike had learned the Princess was in danger.
“Oh, well. A worry for another day,” Severin said with a shrug.
“Slave, get out here,” he called to the Thrall who had been hiding among some rubble a short distance away.
The Thrall came running like his life depended on it, because it did.
“Yes, my Lord?”
“I'm feeling rather peckish. What do we have in the dungeon back home?”
“The dungeon is quite full, my Lord, but I would recommend one or two of the beast-folk we have.” The Thrall hesitated. “I have a very lovely young Cat-girl beast type that I'm sure my Lord would enjoy.”
Severin considered that for a moment. “No, but I do agree Beast-kin is the right flavor.” He thought for another moment. “Any well-aged males? Something hardy?”
“Yes, my Lord. Four, in fact. All around fifty.”
“Yes, that sounds lovely. When we get back, pick out the best two and have them brought to my chambers.”
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“Yes, my Lord.”
Seraphyne Noctara smiled as the Woodland Goblin tried his best to crawl away from her.
The poor thing wasn't making much progress. One of his legs no longer seemed interested in cooperating, leaving what was left of it dragging behind him as he pulled himself across the dirt with both hands. He had managed perhaps six feet from the well when Seraphyne strolled over and casually placed one boot on his good ankle, crushing it instantly.
The Goblin screamed as she pressed down even harder, making sure the broken bones ground together. Seraphyne closed her eyes for a moment as the familiar warmth spread through her. His pain was delicious, but the fear was even better. She could feel both feeding Feast of Agony, joining the suffering already surrounding her from the other prisoners gathered beside the well.
Feast of Agony (Passive — Suffering / Conversion) — Lv. 1 — Absorbs the pain, fear, and emotional distress of nearby enemies, generating Feast of Agony stacks. Each stack temporarily increases Spirit and Willpower. Excess stacks are converted into temporary Agility and damage bonuses, with the effect growing stronger as nearby suffering continues. Stacks gradually decay when Seraphyne is no longer exposed to suffering.
She had to admit, finding this little settlement had been the best thing to happen since they'd entered the Great Dryad Forest from the east. Their initial journey had kept them along the border between the forest and the Elven Kingdom out of necessity. It had been less dangerous that way, but the moment they'd turned north that morning, the forest had made it clear they weren't welcome.
Their first twenty miles beneath the enormous trees had been considerably more troublesome than expected. The forest didn't seem to care that they were undead or that most creatures should have had the good sense to fear them. The things living here had already destroyed several of their number, monsters straight out of nightmares. And if Seraphyne knew anything, she knew nightmares. She was the cause of many of them, after all.
Still, she was quickly learning she had a long way to go when it came to understanding fear.
Seraphyne hadn't cared much about the losses, but Othran certainly had. The Arch Lich had spent most of the journey complaining about maintaining their strength and avoiding unnecessary attention.
Then their scouts had discovered seven little farmhouses clustered around a well.
Othran had wanted to avoid the settlement entirely until one of the farmers spotted their scouts. After that, there was no longer anything to discuss. They couldn't risk anyone reaching a larger settlement and warning the Spirit-folk that nearly two hundred undead were moving through their forest.
The attack had been disappointingly short. The strongest among them had only been a Level 31 hunter, and he'd lasted all of three seconds. Seraphyne glanced toward the Necromancer who now owned the hunter's corpse.
At least the aftermath had proven more entertaining. Othran hadn't been inclined to give her anyone to play with initially, but after enough pestering, she'd gotten her way in the end and been given two of the prisoners.
“Princess Seraphyne, I told you their bodies needed to remain intact,” Othran said furiously. “What good is a one-legged undead to us?”
Seraphyne looked down at the Goblin beneath her boot before turning back to the Arch Lich.
“He's here for my enjoyment, nothing more, Arch Lich. What greater value could this thing possibly offer me than that?”
Othran scowled at her but didn't retort. Not at first, anyway. This damn Arch Lich was really starting to get on her last nerve. At only Level 22, she wasn't strong enough to kill him yet, but as the Chosen of Malvara, Goddess of Hungering Silence, she would get there in due time. Double points with every level would see to that. It was the least these Gods of Chaos owed her for bringing her to this world.
Seraphyne took a moment to look down at her Succubus body.
They had compensated her in other ways.
Back on Earth, she'd been considered beautiful, but this new body put her old one to shame. Long black hair fell well past her shoulders, framing a face that seemed almost unfairly perfect. Crimson eyes, pointed ears, and two large black horns sweeping back from her head made it impossible to mistake her for anything human. Then there were the enormous batlike wings rising behind her, their dark frames surrounding membranes of deep crimson.
Even her armor seemed designed to make the most of what she'd been given. Black metal hugged her figure closely, reinforced across her torso and waist with overlapping plates while crimson and gold accents broke up the darkness. Armored gloves covered her hands, and fitted thigh-high boots protected her legs without doing much to hide them.
Not that Seraphyne had any interest in hiding her legs.
Her new body was taller, curvier, and considerably more voluptuous than the one she'd had on Earth, and she absolutely loved it. Better still was how easily those looks convinced men to let down their guard around her.
Don't mind the wings and horns. Focus on my breasts, my thighs, and my perfect ass.
It felt so good when a man leaned in for a kiss, thinking he was getting the better end of the deal, only to discover she'd been the predator all along. By the time Seraphyne was finished, his soul belonged to her, another plaything for her amusement.
Unfortunately, Seraphyne could only seem to hold onto one soul at a time. Not because she couldn't hold more, but because she never seemed able to resist killing them in short order. That was frustrating, but it certainly made for some entertaining nights back at the castle. Every once in a while, she'd even reward her soul slave and let him enjoy himself for a time. It made taking everything away again afterward so much more satisfying.
Her Soul Taming skill also came with the added benefit of granting her bonus XP while she had a soul captured, something she very much needed right now with the oppressive penalty she was receiving from being grouped with undead so much higher level than her. It wouldn't help much, but it was better than nothing.
Soul Taming (Psychic / Spirit Spell) — Lv. 2 — Allows the user to bind captured souls as familiars under their control. Each bound soul requires 10 Willpower to maintain and deals Spirit damage when used in combat. Living sapient beings whose Willpower is overcome can be temporarily bound as Soul Slaves but cannot be made permanent familiars while alive. While at least one soul remains bound, the user gains bonus experience from combat. Success is determined by Willpower + Charisma vs. Target Resistance.
To Seraphyne, pleasure and pain went hand in hand. Her pleasure and their pain.
“Plea—please make it stop,” the Goblin managed to get out between screams.
“Ahhh, but I'm just getting started, little one.”
“Princess, you've had your fun. We are on a timetable. End him,” Othran demanded.
Oh, just you wait, Lich. The pain I will bring you will be so sweet to my ears. Just you wait.
“Fine,” she finally said, and without warning, she moved her heel from the Goblin's ankle to his upper back. He was facedown, and she could simply kill him by crushing his skull, but where was the fun in that?
Slowly and gently at first, Seraphyne began pressing down. She closed her eyes and savored his desperate gasps as less and less air made it into his lungs. When she pressed harder, she held the pressure there until the only sound the Goblin could manage was a faint, “Hhh—hk... hhh...”
Music sweeter than any symphony.
The Goblin didn't live much longer after that. Disappointed by how weak he'd been, Seraphyne kicked the corpse away in disgust.
“Now take the other one as your Soul Slave and let us be on our way,” Othran said.
Seraphyne glanced toward her remaining prisoner. At least she still had something to look forward to.
“Kill the others and raise them as undead,” Othran ordered the Necromancers standing nearby.
“Should we set the farms ablaze?” one of the lower-level Death Knights asked. His words came out in a harsh croak, most of his vocal cords having rotted away long ago.
“No. We don't want the smoke, and I want this place to appear untouched for as long as possible,” Othran replied at once.
He turned toward the Hag. “You know what to do, yes?”
“Of course, Great One.”
“Then get to work.”
That was when the remaining prisoners seemed to understand what was about to happen. Pleas immediately broke out among them as the Necromancers moved forward.
“Please, not my little girl!”
“No! No!”
After the Hag's Transportation Circle was completed and hidden beneath a rug in one of the farm houses, the undead column began its march north again.
“Ugh, how much longer is this going to take, Othran?” Seraphyne complained only a few minutes into the journey.
“The scouts say we should reach the ambush point by midafternoon tomorrow. Then we set the trap and wait for the Dryad Princess to arrive.”
Seraphyne smiled at that. “Don't forget your promise, Arch Lich.”
“Yes, yes. Nothing has changed. You can kill her,” Othran responded, waving away the reminder.
It wasn't long before the forest reminded them once again that this was not their land. A Razorwing Mantis dropped from the canopy without warning, its camouflage so effective Seraphyne didn't notice it until one of its enormous hooked forelimbs swept through the neck of a nearby Necromancer.
His head hit the ground before anyone had time to react.
The creature was already gone, springing back into the trees and disappearing among the leaves before the nearest Death Knight could even reach it.
The Necromancer had been a weak one, but it was still a loss Othran did not take lightly. Othran raised the fallen Necromancer, but death had reduced him to little more than another controlled undead. His former minions had to be reorganized among the surviving Necromancers.
Othran had been fuming ever since, and his mood only worsened as the day dragged on. The forest continued picking at their numbers, never enough to stop them, but enough that every mile seemed to cost them something.
The last attack came just before nightfall.
A pack of Dire Wolves burst from the trees and tore into the rear of the column. For several minutes, Seraphyne thought Othran might actually order them to turn back. Luckily, after dragging away nearly ten undead skeleton warriors, the wolves apparently decided they had collected enough new toys and disappeared into the forest.
Seraphyne smiled at the obvious frustration on Othran's face as they finally made camp for the night. If not for how badly her feet hurt, she would have considered the day quite enjoyable overall.
An hour later, Seraphyne was asleep.
That night, she dreamed of all the sweet sounds she would soon force the Dryad Princess to make.