Chapter Four: Scion of the Tower

FOUR

From the chaos strode a giant in white robes. The man had to be nearly seven feet tall with skin as black as ink. Sweat gleamed on his bald head and he waded into the chaos with bare fists, striking like a thunder storm. Hints of something swirled around the man, flashes of light that appeared right as he struck the skeletons.

Skeletons became fragments as they were blasted apart, none of them lasting more than one exchange. The big man moved lightly, dodging the clumsy attacks of the skeletons and destroying them with a casual punch, caving in skulls or simply blowing apart torsos.

Where he stepped, order was reasserted. Men and women in matching uniforms or those of similar cut, formed disciplined lines. Roan recognized them for what they were. Sect members or college graduates of tower climbing academies. Well trained, well funded, and having the skill needed to hold against the horde. They just needed a figure to rally around.

Roan looked over the man, the titan made of flesh, and realized what he was. A scion of the towers and humanity. Someone who had one foot in the realm of mortals and another in the towers.

“Don’t let them spread further down the halls!” The big man didn’t raise his voice, but the great basso of it carried with ease. Roan looked across the boulevard and saw that the halls continued onward, a never ending line of skeletal crypts.

Roan saw the closest of the skeletons with his back turned, sword raised to hack at a woman’s exposed side. He stepped forward and was glad he had taken the longsword as he slashed across the creature’s neck, beheading it a single strike.

“The extra length is perfect.” Roan didn’t slow, kicking the headless torso away and charging his next foe. On the wide boulevard with room to move, the inferior skeleton lived up to its name. They moved slowly, were clumsy, and attacked with the same wide sweeping attacks that were easy to avoid.

There were just too many of them. Dozens to every fighter on the boulevard. More and more people were coming from the alleyways, some pursued by hordes of undead but most of them were alone as they got free of the alleys. Roan was happy to see that a majority of the people who stumbled into the quagmire stayed, throwing their strength in with the defenders. A few ran though, saw the fight and just crossed the boulevard and went deeper into the crypts.

Roan grimaced as he saw some of those skeletons that didn’t join the fight continue walking. Down the alleys unmolested and looking to rally more of their kindred. Even with the big scion fighting and holding the line, rallying together all those trained fighters, they couldn’t stop the tide.

Steel bit bone and he cut through another pair of skeletons, chopping them apart with brutal efficiency. The mass of osteoporosis between him and the rest of the defenders was thinning by the moment. He didn’t relent, even as his body burned with strain. Using the longsword one handed was awkward, but he wouldn’t drop his axe, not when the undead were packing the boulevard.

A trio of undead spun around to stare down at him, emerald fire in their sockets as they started to hack at him. Roan danced backward, allowing the enemy blades to hit stone as the skeletons overswung. The triangular tip of the longsword punched through the furthest of the skeletons on the right skull. Its flame guttered out as it collapsed in a heap, but Roan swung the axe at the skeleton to the left. He missed the skull and instead hit the shoulder, cracking bone and sending its arm to clatter to the ground.

The middle skeleton’s sword rose, sweeping toward him in a disemboweling strike. Roan cursed as he was forced backward, the two skeletons closing in on him. A fist punched through the middle skeleton’s sternum. A spinal cord was clutched in the man’s fist as the skeleton collapsed. Roan revered course, attacking with his axe again and this time he struck true.

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“Form a line, we must hold,” the giant said as he shook his hand and dropped the spinal cord he’d just ripped out.

“We need to run. The skeletons move to awaken more of their own kind!” Roan said, using his sword to point toward a line of them were walking down the aisles. The big man looked toward them and frowned.

“DARREN! We need to retreat!” The big man roared to the densest knot of defenders where another young man in a similar cut of robes stood directing people with calm precision. The other man turned and looked around, assessed the situation, and agreed instantly.