B5 Chapter 73 – Pillar of Darkness

The first thing Tyron felt when he opened his eyes was a rush of anxiety. Had the Empire come as he slept? Was the horde intact?

After a few moments to gather himself, he was reassured. Not only was the horde intact, it was larger and more powerful than it had ever been.

It had been a mistake for the Empire to leave the western province abandoned like this after killing so many. If this was the number of skeletons Tyron could assemble in a relatively rural place like Foxbridge, then what would he find at Cluffton, Havercroft or Northwatch? If he managed to get all the way to Kenmor, just how many dead would he find?

As long as he won the upcoming battle, his horde would soon swell to tens of thousands, with revenants and wights from the Golden Legion to lead them. With such a force at his disposal, he would be able to march upon the other provinces openly, perhaps even the central province itself. With every victory, his enemies would grow that much weaker, and he would grow that much stronger.

For the first time since the fall of Kenmor, Tyron could feel his grip tightening around the necks of his foes. So much blood had been spilled already, but it wasn’t enough, not nearly. The Emperor still breathed. The noble houses still existed. The Five Divines still lived.

When everything those false gods had built was dead and buried, only then would Tyron’s vengeance be satisfied. Once again, he felt the heat of his rage burn brighter within him, an intoxicating heat that pushed away the all-consuming grief that never truly left him.

“Hey, you awake?”

It was Filetta, as usual. He looked up to see her offering him a plate.

“I think I’ve genuinely forgotten how to cook, but I think this meat should be fine to eat. We butchered a stray cow this morning.”

The Necromancer nodded with gratitude as he took the plate, then looked at the contents and grimaced. They’d cooked this? It looked so raw it could jump off the plate at any moment.

“I’m not even sure I could use this in a zombie,” he muttered, poking at the hunk of meat on the plate.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Alongside some wild carrots, beets and a mug of water from the river, it was an odd breakfast, but certainly a filling one. Seeing as his constitution had prevented him from getting sick even when consuming the disgusting sludge he’d eaten in the Realm of the Dead, Tyron swallowed his concerns along with the meat and choked it all down. He needed sustenance and he wasn’t in any position to be picky.

“Thanks,” he said, putting the plate down and resting a cautious hand on his stomach. Hopefully everything would be alright down there.

“Still no sign of the Empire,” Filetta said as Tyron slowly pushed himself up to his feet. “Are you sure they’re coming through here?”

“As sure as I can be.”

If they’d gone too wide around this area and already crossed the mountains, there was nothing he could do to prevent the slaughter that would take place. He could only hope that his aunt and uncle would be able to make it out alive.

There was no point changing plans now. He couldn’t afford to waste any time.

Tyron stretched, then picked up his mug of water, drinking the rest down in one gulp.

“How do you feel about being experimented on?” he asked his former associate.

Ghostly eyes turned towards him looking decidedly nonplussed.

“That almost sounds like something I would have said to you in the old days.”

The Necromancer frowned, wondering what she was talking about, then blinked. Oh, she was talking about that.

“I get enough of that sort of humour from Dove. I really don’t need it from you too,” he said, pinching his brow and shaking his head.

“What did you have in mind?” Filetta asked him, no longer joking.

“Well, I need to upgrade all of the wights, improving your bones, weaves, armour and weapons. We could leave it there, but I think there’s an opportunity to do something more.”

An idea had come to Tyron over the last few weeks, something he’d begun developing in the Realm of the Dead. The specific brand of Soul Magick he’d found there was utterly unique compared to anything he’d seen before. Since the Death Lords who ruled there coveted the souls that carried it to such a high degree, it stood to reason that it was both powerful and useful.

Tyron was always thinking about magick, he obsessed over it, dreamed about it. He thought in sigils and spoke in Words of Power. So when an incredibly powerful form of arcane energy dropped into his lap and he had no idea what to do with it, his mind began to turn, even if he didn’t want it to.

For a long time Tyron had wondered what he could do to make use of that energy, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt the wights were the most appropriate undead for him to work on first. He certainly wasn’t willing to risk his demi-liches just yet, he needed them for his work.

With such an extremely limited supply of Soul Magick, there wasn’t much he could do with it, but he was keen to try something, even if it was only on Filetta.

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“Have you reached your maximum level? In your new Class, I mean.”

The former thief nodded. Upon being reawakened as a wight, she had, just like all of the others, received a new Class more fitting to her nature as an undead. In her case, an Undead Thief, that had been upgraded to a bronze rank Class and then a Silver rank one. Now her Class was less focused on thievery and more on agile, dual weapon fighting. With her two bone knives, Filetta was able to move with speed and grace, using her incredibly light frame to jump and spin through the battlefield. Utterly useless in the shield line, but on a flank with space to move, she was deadly.

For whatever reason, though, wights weren’t able to progress any further than this, as if their souls no longer held the capacity for the Unseen to invest in them further. If he was right, he’d managed to cobble together a method that might work to reinforce the weakened souls of the wights, or at least provide enough support around them that they could accept more power from the Unseen.

“With a little luck, this might help make you stronger, and help promote you to gold rank,” he said, standing up and brandishing the orb in his right hand.

He held out the orb to her.

“Hold this for me, I need both hands.”