Chapter LIII

  Jerome hears the necromancer let out a long sigh while shaking his head.

  “Of course, you're not Tyrun. And just to confirm, were you even a mage?” the necromancer asks not-Tyrun. Clearly frustrated by the realization that the undead he has just raised is not the mage they were counting on. This complicates their already fragile pn.

  The undead shakes his head, a clear no, confirming that they’ve failed to find another mage.

  The necromancer notes the response, crouching as he mutters, “Well, according to that diary, I wasn’t expecting Tyrun to be particurly useful in a fight. But he might’ve been able to provide some support.”

  This comment leaves Jerome wondering what exactly is written in that diary. It’s not particurly important now, but it would certainly be interesting to know. The necromancer then pces a hand on the skeleton they believe to be a warrior and excims once again, “Rise from the dead!”

  “Let’s see if we have better luck this time,” comments Sab beside Jerome, echoing the thoughts of everyone present.

  While the necromancer desecrates another unfortunate soul's body, Jerome turns his attention back to the undead mule. Which is slowly reaching the top of the dirt ramp. The creature has been unbothered by everything, simply following its orders.

  For a moment, Jerome marvels at how he hadn’t realized the mule’s true nature sooner. He had been near it often and thought of it as merely a strange animal, too calm and passive. Perhaps it is simply that he never considered the possibility that the creature wasn’t alive.

  “And you? Are you a warrior?” Jerome hears the necromancer’s irritated voice say, pulling his attention back to him.

  Although not unexpected, the sight remains strange. The necromancer is speaking to what had once been a skeleton lying abandoned on the ground. Now, the skeleton stands upright, giving every indication—despite cking ears—that it is listening attentively to its master.

  Held together by magic, the skeleton nods in a clear yes.

  “Yes!” excims both the necromancer and Seres almost simultaneously, to then exchange a gnce. Before the necromancer shrugs the moment off.

  “Well, at least something’s going right,” the necromancer remarks before addressing the skeleton again. “If that’s the case, find yourself a weapon, then climb the ramp as quickly as you can. Once you’re up there, you’ll need to defend the mule and the rope we’ll use to climb. Vampires could appear at any moment to stop us.”

  With a wave of his hand, the necromancer signals the skeleton to begin its task.

  At the mention of vampires, Jerome notices a faint glow in the eyes of both undead. It’s more noticeable in the skeleton since it cks actual eyes, and even before, a slight light had been visible. This reminds Jerome of his recent conversation with Sab, where the tter specuted that the undead might not care about the price they’d have to pay for the necromancer’s magic if it meant a chance for revenge.

  The skeleton immediately starts searching the cave for a weapon.

  “Nero, what if he can’t find a weapon?” Sab asks.

  The necromancer shrugs, before adding this to his orders. “If you don’t find anything, just climb the ramp. You’ll have to make do with your fists.”

  The other undead remains stationary, awaiting its own instructions. Prompting the necromancer to look at him and ask, “Are you maybe a warrior?”

  Unlike before, the undead tilts its head but offers no definitive answer, sparking everyone’s curiosity.

  “Maybe not exactly a warrior. Could it be... a guard?” Jerome suggests, intrigued despite his discomfort with the situation.

  Seeing no reaction from the undead, Seres, still holding the rope tied to the mule, ventures, “Maybe a fighter?”

  Again, the undead looks at them but gives no further indication. Before Jerome can offer another guess, the necromancer interrupts. “Interesting, but it doesn’t matter now. Can you fight the vampires?”

  This time, not-Tyrun nods a clear yes.

  “Then, you’ve heard my orders,” the necromancer says coldly.

  Without hesitation, not-Tyrun sprints up the ramp, without even trying to find a weapon. Moments ter, the skeleton follows, having found a mace somewhere.

  Both undead ascend quickly, almost slipping at times but moving far more effectively than the earlier undead raised by the necromancer. They climb with unstoppable determination. The skeleton, in particur, leaps from stone to stone. There’s no doubt in Jerome’s mind that these two are far more formidable.

  They’re so swift that they reach the top of the ramp at the same time as the mule. Witnessing this success, the four exchange gnces, waiting for someone to speak.

  “So, in what order do we climb?” Sab asks, ever direct.

  The necromancer, whose opinion obviously carries the most weight, simply shrugs. “As long as we get out of here, it doesn’t matter.”

  Taking this as consent, Sab grabs some of the supplies they’d unloaded from the mule and starts his climb. Moving steadily and purposefully.

  Jerome watches Sab ascend with some concern. If anything goes wrong, he’ll be left, all alone with the necromancers.

  Fortuny, Sab continues without issue. And even with his slow pace he quickly reaches the top of the ramp. And so returning to the tunnel they’d been in before falling into this trap.

  With Sab safely up, Jerome gnces at the others. Seeing no reaction from them, he decides to follow suit, picking up a bag of provisions that had been on the mule. Carefully judging the weight, he approaches Seres, still holding the rope, and begins his climb.

  At first, everything goes retively well. He barely even needs to rely on the rope. Making him think they might have worried unnecessarily.

  But then he reaches a section where his feet start to sink into the soft, loose dirt. Moving becomes more challenging, and his bance falters as he tries to free himself from the clinging soil.

  Here, the rope proves invaluable—not so much for pulling himself up but as a secure point of stability. The loose dirt stretches farther than he expected, but finally, it ends midway up the ramp.

  Unfortunately, this does not make the ascent any easier. At this point, the ramp becomes steeper. While the ground appears more solid, Jerome discovers that what he thought was a firm block crumbles beneath his weight, proving untrustworthy. Without the rope for support, he would undoubtedly have fallen.

  Thankfully, he encounters no further incidents and eventually reaches the top of the ramp, where Sab is waiting. Sab extends a hand, saying, "Good job. Here, grab on." Jerome takes his hand, allowing Sab to pull him up.

  "Thank you," Jerome says once he's safely at the top. Turning to look down at the cavern below.

  Sab, meanwhile, shouts, "Who's next?"

  Down below, the necromancer and Seres exchange gnces before the necromancer gestures for Seres to go. Without hesitation, Seres gathers some of the mule’s previous cargo and begins his climb. While the necromancer takes over holding the rope.

  From the top, Jerome watches the young blond man carefully make his ascension, while gripping the rope tightly. Beside him, Sab signals to Seres with hand gestures, showing the safest path up. Only now does Jerome realize Sab had done the same for him, though he had been too focused on his own struggles to notice.

  Jerome gnces around as Seres ascends. The half-destroyed tunnel from which they had fallen is still partially intact, providing them some protection. Near the wall, the undead mule stands, unmoving, holding the rope taut. On either side of the mule, the two other undead remain eerily still, their lifeless forms evoking an unnerving sense of dread in Jerome.

  Despite their motionless stance, Jerome feels chills run down his spine. Unable to shake the discomfort, he turns to focus back on Seres’s ascent. However, his unease grows as he occasionally casts gnces at the undead, who seem entirely indifferent to the world around them. The only comfort he has is that Sab, standing beside him, also keeps a wary eye on the creatures.

  When Seres nears the top, Sab and Jerome help him over the edge, leaving only the necromancer at the bottom of the ramp. For his part, the necromancer collects the st of the mule's load before beginning his own climb.

  As Jerome watches the rope extending from the mule to the ramp, a dark thought crosses his mind. His hand instinctively touches the knife he keeps tucked away. What if he cut the rope, leaving the necromancer stranded in the pit? For a moment, it seems like an ideal solution to their necromancer dilemma. Yet, he quickly dismisses the idea. Even if the necromancer were to fall, his magic would likely protect him from harm. Worse, Jerome would then be left alone with the undead—a scenario he knows would end poorly.

  A sudden movement behind him draws Jerome's attention. He turns to see the skeleton approaching non-Tyrun.

  “What’s happening?” Sab asks, also noticing the skeleton’s movement.

  Jerome doesn’t know what to say and looks around in confusion. The two undead begin moving away from the mule and toward the still intact section of the tunnel, in the direction they had come from. It’s then that Jerome hears the faint sound of approaching footsteps echoing from the tunnel.

  “Should’ve been Nero climbing first,” Sab mutters as the sound grows louder.

  Jerome understands what Sab means: the sound indicates not just a couple of vampires, but a rge group approaching. If the necromancer were already here, he could use one of his fireballs to incinerate a good number of the attackers. Instead, they’ll have to fight up close—a much riskier situation, especially with the necromancer still climbing.

  “Nero! Nero!!” Seres shouts down the ramp. “They’re coming!”

  While the warning is helpful, it changes little. Unless the necromancer has a new trick up his sleeve, they’ll have to rely on their own strength.

  Sab signals Jerome to get ready, drawing his hunting knife. Jerome takes out his own bde and stands beside his companion. However, the ck of their previous fire-enchanted weapons does little to bolster his confidence. Last time, the mule had also pyed a significant role in their victory, but now it is tethered and immobile.

  “Let’s see what the undead do first,” Sab says. Jerome nods, agreeing with the cautious approach.

  The colpsed tunnel has narrowed the battlefield, forcing the attackers to approach in smaller numbers. This provides some advantage, but Jerome can hear the approaching footsteps grow louder. Soon, the vampires appear—and to his dismay, they are prepared and shielded.

  The vampires advance in a line of five. The two in the center wield rge shields, one a tower shield covering most of its user’s body, the other a cavalry shield leaving only the legs exposed. The remaining three carry round shields rge enough to cover an entire arm.

  As they draw near, they hesitate, exchanging uncertain gnces as they observe the undead in their path.

  “Stick to the pn. Push the undead off the ramp,” orders a familiar voice. Vanus, the vampire they had previously encountered.

  Jerome immediately understands their pn: use their shields defensively to shove the undead down the ramp, avoiding a direct fight. It’s a solid strategy. The skeleton’s mace will struggle against the shield wall. And even with the necromancer's fire magic, Jerome and Sab would be at a severe disadvantage.

  Jerome looks to Sab, sharing a grim acknowledgment of their situation. This will be a desperate fight with no option to flee, making it their st stand.

  The vampires begin advancing clumsily, revealing their ck of experience in this formation. The skeleton charges at one of the fnks, leaping high enough to almost hit the ceiling. To better strike his target's shield with its mace. The impact causes the vampire to cry out in fear, but the shield holds. Both vampire and skeleton seem momentarily stunned, unsure of what to do next.

  “It’s the weight,” Sab comments. “He didn’t account for being lighter.”

  Jerome agrees. The skeleton cks the mass it had in life, weakening its strikes.

  One of the nearby vampires takes advantage of the skeleton’s confusion, ramming it with the edge of his shield. However, the skeleton counters, using its mace to deflect the shield leaving the vampire exposed. A swift follow-up strike elicits a pained cry, forcing the remaining vampires to pause and reassess.

  “Control yourselves!” Vanus shouts, attempting to rally his forces. “Stick to the pn! Defend and push! No openings!”

  Unfortunately for the vampires, the tides shift when a brilliant light illuminates the tunnel. It’s the radiant glow of a fiery sword, conjured in non-Tyrun’s hands. The magical weapon fills Jerome with hope, he feels like he is basking in a summer day’s warmth.

  Non-Tyrun charges the vampire wielding the tower shield, cleaving a piece off. The fiery bde attack incites panic in the vampires, destabilizing their already fragile formation.

  The vampire under attack, without the option of escaping, holds his position. But the one to his side turns around trying to run. Amidst the chaos, the skeleton seizes the opportunity to strike down the fleeing vampire, making him fall.

  The other vampires try to reform their defensive line, when the vampire with the tower shield falls back.

  "Stay calm. Follow the pn, follow the pn..." shouts Vanus while trying to put order into the vampires. But his voice is losing its calm, meaning it's inspiring less and less of the same, in the vampires.

  Meanwhile, the vampire on the ground tries to rise. Only, for non-Tyrun to decapitate it with his enchanted bde, reducing its body to dust. The remaining vampires seeing this break all the discipline, their pn needs to succeed. They begin to scatter, their pn in shambles. The only thing stopping them from running away is the persisting attack from the undead.

  “Well, better than expected,” a voice remarks behind Jerome. He turns to see the necromancer, having reached the top of the ramp, observing the battle with calm satisfaction.

  Then the necromancer commands, “Stop. Come back.”

  Obeying, the undead retreat. Leaving the surviving vampires to flee in disarray.

  The necromancer passes Jerome and Sab, going to his undead. He walks calmly studying at his leisure non-Tyrun and its fire bde.

  Meanwhile, the vampires run at full speed down the tunnel. Vanus, however, halts and starts to shout "No, no. We can't run away..."

  Turning back, he calls out, “Stop! We have to fight! There’s no other hope!”

  But his comrades pay him no heed, and Vanus is left alone. Desperation in his eyes, he charges at Jerome and his companions.

  Jerome can understand, and even pity the vampire. But he had previously survived the necromancer's fmes. With that experience how did he think, this would end any other way.

  The necromancer on his part, raises his hand with cold precision and utters, “Draco’s Fmes.”