V3 C5 - The Battle of Themis (Part 1)

As the sun rose over Themis, the city’s defenders could see the vast undead horde marching towards them.

Under Prince Julius’s command, Themis had two weeks of hard preparation put into its defences.

The walls were manned by archers, mages and paladins; the ballistae and catapults in the ramparts were loaded and ready to fire. The Holy Legion were on the streets in tight formations with spears, shields and shortswords.

There was a deep, ten-metre-wide moat surrounding the city and a series of two-metre-deep trenches, each equally spaced apart, spread out before the city with thin wooden bridges as the only safe way across.

When Karak-Harth saw the city’s defences, he scoffed. “Pathetic, minor distractions.”

He raised his staff up and the ground began to shake.

Dirt rose up from the bottom of the trenches until they were completely filled in, rendering them useless.

Karak-Harth laughed and urged his army onwards.

***

“That’s disappointing,” Julius muttered. “Engage.”

“At once, sire. Attack!”

The command was echoed from officer to officer as thousands of arrows, hundreds of magic bolts and dozens of artillery rounds launched at the undead.

Thousands of undead were destroyed, thousands more charged forward.

It’s not enough. Julius’s fingers dug into the battlements. If the trenches hadn’t been filled in, we’d have easily been able to kill tens of thousands of undead.

At this rate, we might not even get a fraction of those numbers.

The fields outside the city burnt with an orange flame, but that did not deter the undead.

Undead archers drew close and began to shoot at the defenders on the battlements.

“Don’t let up!” Julius bellowed as an arrow soared past his face. “Every time you destroy one of them, you save ten lives behind you!”

Julius’s soldiers cheered even as two of them were pierced by arrows.

“Your highness, you should head down and be ready for when they breach.”

“Don’t let me down, Pontus.”

General Pontus grinned. “Never, sire.”

“Then, I’ll leave this to you. Just be ready to drop the portcullis the moment-”

“Julius.” General Pontus put his hand on the prince’s shoulder. “I will.”

Julius nodded. “Stay safe, Pontus.”

“You too, Julius.”

***

Karak-Harth flew above the burning fields and slowly turned his staff towards them.

The flames that had roared so fiercely halted.

With his free hand, Karak-Harth twisted his fingers into a claw and began dragging the fire towards him, condensing its power into a ball the size of his palm.

The fields below were left a scorched, black char littered with dust and bones.

Karak-Harth smiled maliciously as he slowly turned towards the city. Then, once he could see those on the walls staring at him in horror, Karak-Harth launched it towards Themis.

It flew with incredible speed into the stone walls.

The full might of the fire outside Themis was unleashed in a single instant.

A gigantic part of the walls and gates were destroyed.

Hundreds of those on the walls flew through the air, burning, before they slammed dead inside the city. Massive chunks of the wall burst into the city, crushing people and buildings alike. The fire spread into Themis itself.

The Holy Legion behind the walls had been blasted onto their backs from the shockwaves of the explosion and scrambled back into formation.

Karak-Harth turned towards the Heavens and cried, “Are you watching, Themis?! Watch as your legacy burns!”

***

The death knights and bone golems were the first into the city.

On their mighty steeds, the death knights charged into the destroyed lines of the Holy Legion, cutting them down in twos or threes at a time.

The bone golems stumbled into the city and swung their mightily limbs around carelessly, killing several people at a time.

The lesser undead easily swarmed in, no longer impeded by the walls or the Holy Legion, and an intense, brutal battle started on the streets.

Much to Karak-Harth’s surprise though, Prince Julius, carrying the flag of the Holy Empire in one hand and his sword in the other, rallied the soldiers around him. Together, they soon resumed their formations and the undead advance was halted.

Karak-Harth snapped his fingers and four liches flew off to another part of the city, taking with them a hundred thousand undead from the rear of the horde.

They were heading towards the lesser defended western gate.

***

“My lords, we have multiple confirmed sightings of liches and other strong undead at the north-west gate!”

“How many?” Lawrence asked.

“Hard to say, my lord. More than a dozen, at least.”

“Alright, leave that to us,” Dante said. “Kella, get the adventurers together and head that way.”

“What about you?”

Dante smiled. “I’m going ahead.”

Using his Arts, Dante propelled his body high into the air, then forwards towards the gates.

Kella followed after him on foot. “I really hope he’s as strong as the stories say.”

***

“The walls have already been breached, sir! Surely we need to help them?”

“No. We have our orders from Prince Julius and I am not going to disobey them.”

“But sir-!”

“Undead approaching!”

The captain and his men looked over the battlements and saw the hundred thousand undead Karak-Harth had sent their way.

“Engage th-!”

Seventeen fireballs smashed into the walls, blowing dozens of men, including the captain, off the walls.

The liches continued their barrage as Karak-Harth joined them.

“Break the gates!”

With inhuman groaning, five bone golems sprinted towards the tall western gates, smashing into it with their shoulders, denting the wood.

Then, they threw punch after heavy punch at the gates, slowly breaking small pieces off the gates until they could rip large chunks off.

Once they had, the undead charged through, but the surviving guards dropped the portcullis on top of the bone golems, skewering and destroying them.

The four liches flew down to the portcullis, placed their palms on the metal and began generating heat from their hands.

Within a minute, the portcullis had melted away and the attack resumed.

Now then. Karak-Harth turned to the centre of the city. It’s time I claimed my prize.

***

“Karak-Harth’s broken through the western gate with tens of thousands of undead!” A messenger informed Lawrence, Arieon, Lily and Christoph.

“What?! Is he still there?”

“No, my lord, he’s gone north!”

Arieon frowned. “Towards the palace.”

“He means to kill the royal family?” Christoph asked.

“No matter what he intends to do.” Arieon leapt up from his chair with impressive vigour and grabbed his staff. “We have to destroy him or else this will be the last day of the Holy Empire.”

***

As Dante landed near the gates, he decapitated two death knights with ease and then cut a bone golem in half.

Two more bone golems charged at Dante, but he shattered them into tiny pieces with a blast of air from his palms. A death knight stabbed at his back, but Dante leapt above the blade, landed on the death knight’s shoulders and kicked its head off.

The head went flying into a group of weaker undead and exploded, taking out more than fifty in a single attack.

“And here I was worried I’d be a bit rusty,” Dante mused, swinging his massive scythe effortlessly into droves of the undead.

The Arts of the Monster Hunters were a unique type of magic that manipulated the air around the user for incredible abilities, and it naturally enhanced the user’s physical abilities.

Dante was also able to make his attacks much more powerful by using his arts to guide his scythe in battle.

There shouldn’t have been an undead that could have posed a threat to Dante, yet, among the oceans that had broken into the city, he found one that made his skin crawl.

It was a tall, black knight standing separate from the rest of the horde in a clearing; it easily dispatched anyone who tried to fight it by cleaving them in two.

What kind of undead is that? Whatever it is. Dante hurtled towards it. I’ll destroy it!

Dante swung his scythe at the knight’s neck, but the knight parried the blow and punched at Dante. Dante brought his scythe in front of his body to block the strike, but the momentum knocked him back a few feet.

Dante blasted the undead with his arts, but the undead didn’t budge.

The black knight sliced twice at Dante; they were so fast that Dante couldn’t dodge them in time and had no choice but to block them instead. Dante pushed the knight’s sword to one side and sliced at the undead’s stomach, but the undead easily blocked the strike with its hilt, knocking Dante off balance.

The knight went to stab Dante in his heart, but Kella appeared from the side and blocked the blow.

“You’re late!”

“I saved your life, didn’t I?”

The two withdrew a few feet from the black knight, but the undead didn’t pursue them.

Instead, it moved into a defensive stance and watched them.

“What kind of undead is this, Kella?”

“No idea. How strong is it?”

“Well, let’s put it this way. I could cut everything else down here with ease, but this.”

“Oh.” Kella laughed. “That’s reassuring.”

***

Karak-Harth flew through the palace doors, blasting them off their hinges, before launching lightning from his palms.

The blasts electrocuted the guards inside and ricocheted into the walls.

Not wasting any time, Karak-Harth continued flying through the palace halls towards the throne room, flinging countless spells at anyone he saw.

When he arrived in the throne room, it was empty.

So, the royal family evacuated to somewhere safe already.

Slowly, Karak-Harth ascended the stairs towards the throne where all the emperors and empresses of the Holy Empire sat. It was the oldest symbol of power in the empire, a luxurious chair made specifically for Saint Themis after the War of Unification.

“I remember the first time we came here, Themis,” Karak-Harth mumbled as he gently stroked the chair. “I remember the way you spoke about a utopia-like empire. One without war, without bloodshed, one that would know peace and happiness for an eternity.” Karak-Harth smiled somewhat remorsefully at the chair. “You were a fool, my dear.”

He turned towards the ceiling and bellowed, “My only regret is not being able to see your face as your dream dies!”

“And here I thought your biggest regret would be betraying her, Karak-Harth,” Arieon mused as he, Lawrence, Christoph and Isabella entered the throne room.

Karak-Harth’s neck twisted unnaturally around his body as he turned to look at the defenders who’d rushed to challenge him.

“Even her descendants are fools,” he grumbled, turning his body around to face them. “I’m insulted that you think I’m so weak.”

Lawrence drew his blade. “Maybe it’s not that you’re weak, but we’re strong, traitor.”

Eight large magic circles formed behind Karak-Harth, sparkling with purple energy.

“Oh, I assure you, you’re wrong.”