Austronesia Empire, Imperial Majapahit, New Guinea, Jayapura Mining Complex, Odysseus' Workshop
1st Year of God, Sunday, 3rd Week, 3rd Month of Abraham
Odysseus was poring over the documents Tomino had sent for their project when the sudden sound of hurried heavy footsteps can be heard from the hallway outside his workshop.
He glanced at the digital clock on the wall, showing the time to be 1:13 AM, and frowned, wondering who else could be here at such a late hour.
"Odysseus Von Aston?" a voice called from outside.
Curious, he leaned out of his workshop and saw a pair of humans in black uniforms. One of them was peering into another room, calling out again.
"Are you here, sir?"
"Yes?" Odysseus replied, catching their attention. They quickly turned towards him with a mix of urgency and relief in their expressions. "What can I do for you, Po-lease Officers?" he asked, recalling what the humans called them.
"Finally, we've found you," one of the men said, visibly relieved. "We need you to come with us, sir."
Odysseus frowned in confusion. "What's happened? Where do you need me to go?"
"There's no time to explain, sir," the other officer said in a grave tone. "Your help is needed immediately."
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Jiak grunted as he glared out from the cover of the forest while his eyes fixed on the walls, which were now glowing with an eerie magical light.
"Da spirits won't be able ta sneak up on im," he muttered with frustration in his voice. "Dey fight surprisingly well for a bunch uv 'umiez."
The Elder remained silent, either ignoring Jiak's remark or simply not hearing it. Irritated, Jiak glanced at the old shaman, something unsettling catching his attention from the hooded figure.
As he moved closer, he could make out small whispers emanating from beneath the cloak, whispers that made his head throb, his skin prickle, and goosebumps rise all over his body. He quickly stepped back, unwilling to stand near the Elder's unnerving presence.
His other Orc warriors also kept their distance from the Elder as their wariness heightened not just by the shaman, but by the gathering of the dead, pulled from their graves to serve. The flickering torchlight cast shifting shadows among the corpses, giving the unnerving impression that the shadows themselves were stalking the orcs, making them uneasy and restless.
Jiak peered through a precious eyeglass, which had been looted at some point in time in the past, its former owner no longer around to protest its use. The eyeglass brought the scene at the wall closer, and he could see the battle unfold with greater clarity.
The thunderous crack of the humans' 'boomsticks' echoed down from the mountains, startling sleeping birds, which screeched their displeasure and dive-bombed the orcs and the dead with droppings as they fled.
Ignoring the splatters of filth, Jiak focused on the battle and a grim satisfaction curled his lips as he watched the dead reach the walls, only to curse under his breath when some sort of a wave of fire magic reduced them to ash.
"Do someth'n," he snarled at the Elder. "We're los'n 'da spirits ta dere boomsticks!"
A weary sigh came from within the Elder's hood. "I've done all i kan. If 'da spirits kannot breach 'da walls, dere's little more i kan offa."
"Den br'n 'da spirits back," Jiak demanded in frustration. "Don't waste 'da spirits' bodiez!"
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Odysseus held tightly to the frame of the open-top jeep as it raced down the road toward Alpha Wall. The wind whipped violently against his face, sending his untied hair flying in all directions.
As the gusts battered him, he found himself considering, rather absurdly, whether he should cut his hair short like the humans. The thought was fleeting as he tightened his grip on the handlebars and his knuckles turned white with tension.
Despite the early morning hour, the road was unusually busy. Battle tanks rumbled past, going up and down the road in a steady stream. Normally, this time of day would see the roads empty, but today was different.
Odysseus couldn't help but wonder what was happening. The sky was overcast, and he wondered if a storm was approaching, imagining how miserable it would be to ride through the rain in an open vehicle. But as the rumble of thunder grew louder, he realized something was off.
As they neared the Alpha Wall, that was when Odysseus realized that the thunder were actually the Magic Rifles firing from the Wall. He leaned forward and yelled over the wind to the driver.
"Are those the Magic Guns? Are we under attack again?"
"Yes, Sir," the driver replied, keeping his eyes on the road. "They need you to help with something."
Odysseus fell silent, feeling a knot of apprehension tightening in his chest. If they needed him, it meant something beyond the ordinary, a magical threat, something that required his expertise. The biting wind cut through his clothes, and he cursed himself for not bringing a cloak. The ride had already stretched over an hour, and he shivered as the cold seeped into his bones.
Finally, the jeep pulled into the camp at the base of the wall, passing through two gates before stopping at the third.
The driver turned to Odysseus, "Sir, this is as far as I can take you. Someone will escort you inside."
Odysseus nodded his thanks and disembarked. Almost immediately, two soldiers in dark green uniforms approached.
"Sir, please follow us," one of them said respectfully, standing at parade rest until Odysseus acknowledged them.
"Lead the way," Odysseus replied, falling in step behind the soldiers. They led him past the gate and to another jeep waiting just inside.
The second leg of the journey was brief, less than five minutes, before they arrived at a squat gray concrete structure nestled against the mountainside. The sound of gunfire was louder here, reverberating off the walls and making it clear just how close they were to the action. The soldiers led him through a door at the side of the structure, past multiple guards and checkpoints, before finally entering a large room filled with activity.
The space was reminiscent of the bridge of one of the humans' giant ships, dominated by enormous display screens that flickered with various tactical images.
Colonel Ciaphas Cahyono looked up as Odysseus entered, and the two escorting soldiers snapped crisp salutes before being dismissed. Ciaphas returned the gesture and waved the elf over.
"Welcome, Sir Odysseus."
Odysseus took in the busy chamber with a quick glance before descending a short flight of stairs to the center of the command room. Emulating the human custom, he grasped Ciaphas' outstretched hand in a firm handshake.
"How are you doing?" Odysseus asked.
"Good, Sir," Ciaphas answered, smiling at the elf.
"Greetings to you as well, Sergeant Dice," Odysseus said, extending his hand to shake Dice's. "So, what's the situation?"
"Well, Sir, we were hoping you could tell us," Ciaphas replied, motioning Odysseus toward the display. A playback video of the undead attack flickered to life on the screen, and Odysseus leaned in, scrutinizing the images.
"They appeared to be undead, raised from the grave by dark magic," Odysseus said as he studied the imagery on the display.
Ciaphas and Dice stood silently, waiting for Odysseus to continue.
"Hmmm, the Orcs seem quite proficient in the Dark Arts."
"Is there any way to stop them?" Dice asked. "We've found that destroying the head and burning the bodies seems to help."
"Yes, that makes sense," Odysseus replied, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "From what I understand, spirits inhabit the dead bodies and control their movements by anchoring themselves in the head, which acts as a sort of container. By destroying the head, the spirits lose control, or if the body is too badly damaged, they leave voluntarily from their hosts."
"Is there a necromancer raising the dead?" Ciaphas inquired.
"Neko-man-sir?" Odysseus frowned at the unfamiliar word. "You mean a Spirit Caster?"
"What's a Spirit Caster?" Dice asked before Ciaphas could respond.
"Hmm, from what I know, a Spirit Caster is someone with the ability to communicate with spirits and command them," Odysseus explained. "They don't actually revive the dead. What they do is summon spirits beyond our realm to inhabit the bodies of the deceased in the material world, allowing the spirits to use the bodies as hosts."
"I see. But what exactly is this other realm you mentioned?" Ciaphas asked.
Odysseus shrugged, "I'm not entirely sure. It has other names such as the Spirit Realm, the Sea of Aether, the Inmaterium, etcetera. But all I know is that it's another plane of existence where spirits reside, but even I don't know much about it."
"I see," Dice nodded, then briefly explained what a necromancer is in their terms.
"Hmmm, so Spirit Casters are quite similar to your necromancers," Odysseus remarked with interest. "I'd like to purchase that book I've been hearing about."
"Sir Aston, please," Ciaphas interrupted, steering the conversation back on track. "We have more pressing issues. Is there any way or any spells that can stop the undead? And can the spirits control living bodies?"
"Hmmm, I'll need to do some research, but from what I know, higher-level spirits could possess living creatures, but low-level spirits can only control dead bodies," Odysseus replied, his brow furrowing in thought. "All the relevant texts I've read are in the libraries of the capital city on High Tarxa."
Ciaphas exchanged a dismayed look with Dice. "Damn. Alright, we'll send you back immediately. If you find anything useful, please inform us directly," he said, signaling a nearby guard to approach.
"Private, escort Sir Aston to the motor pool and have one of the drivers return him to the city as quickly as possible," Ciaphas instructed the guard, who acknowledged with a nod.
"Sir, I'll assign someone to accompany you. He'll have communication equipment so you can contact us directly," Ciaphas added, and Odysseus nodded in understanding while Dice picked up a handset to make a call.
Ciaphas nodded to the Private, who then led the elf out of the command center toward the motor pool.
"What a waste of time," Ciaphas muttered once Odysseus was out of earshot. "It was a mistake not to have a direct line of communication with him, we'll need to rectify that."
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Austronesia Empire, Imperial Maharlika, Metro Manila, Malacanang Palace, Conference Room
1st Year of the New Age, Sunday, 3rd Week, 3rd Month of Abraham
"Alright, settle down, everyone," Emperor Maximo commanded, bringing the meeting to order. The conference room fell silent as he took his customary seat after returning the salutes from his officers.
"Now, I'm sure most of you are aware that New Guinea has been under attack by Orc forces for the past week," Maximo began. "We've kept the news of the siege from the public, as we believe we have the situation under control for now." He continued, "For those not fully briefed, we are still holding the territory, though we've suffered 88 casualties. Intelligence estimates that enemy losses are over 30,000."
The display screen flickered to show Colonel Ciaphas Cohyono, who nodded as he participated in the meeting via video conference.
[Not counting the undead, we've also captured many of their crude firearms,] he added.
The discovery that the Orcs had managed to reverse-engineer their firearms and build their own sent the Austronesian government into high alert. Technicians who studied these weapons found that, despite their primitive and nonsensical design, they were surprisingly devastating and rivaled small cannons in power.
The inexplicable nature of the weapons was likely due to Orc magic.
"When the Orcs first appeared at the edge of the forest and attempted to raid one of our rebuilt cities," Maximo recounted, "Our snipers decimated their gunners from afar with precise and deadly fire."
[The first operation involving Omega-191 was a great success,] Ciaphas reported from the video call. [They destroyed the enemy's weapon supply and a significant number of undead.]
"Omega-191?" a politician questioned. "What is that?"
Maximo nodded to Cohyono, who explained, [Omega-191, codenamed 'The Tempest Scions,' is a special operations task force specifically created to combat magical threats using magic.]
[They are one of our elite task forces and have undergone additional specialized training,] he continued. [This includes Enhanced Combat Magic Theory, which is a fusion of human knowledge in natural science, physics, and magic, taught with the assistance of a few elves.]
[Each member of Omega-191 is highly skilled in stealth infiltration, direct combat, and anti-magic countermeasures,] Ciaphas announced with pride, [Aided by numerous magical artifacts they obtained in Aquarius.]
As the architect of this elite unit, he took particular satisfaction in introducing them.
[We are planning a new operation to eliminate the source of the undead forces once and for all,] he continued. [If successful, it could mark the end of the battle at New Guinea.]
"Miss Shelberry?" Maximo invited Melian Shelberry to take over one of the screens to provide her insights.
[Ahem, regarding the undead, the books I have don't cover much on Black or Dark Magic, as it's considered taboo magic and most spells or literature related to the Dark Arts were destroyed upon discovery,] she explained. [However, I did manage to find a fragment of a diary from a Court Magician dating back hundreds of years. It describes their battle against the undead.]
She skillfully manipulated the keypad in front of her, and a scanned image of an ancient, yellowed parchment appeared on the room's display screen.
[I've translated as much of the old language as I could. Here's what it says.]
Beneath the scanned image, a translation appeared: "Fought over a fortnight with thy cursed dead, numbering in the hundreds. My vanguard of brave warriors gave their blood to open a path to the Spirit Caster, and after several bouts of spell weaving, I stood victorious. Yet the dead still roam and hunger for the flesh of the living."
"Is that all?" one of the General Staff members asked in a skeptical tone. "Defeating the Spirit Caster here doesn't stop the undead. It doesn't tell us how to end this for good."
Melian offered an apologetic nod. [That's all the diary contained. But we've deduced that there might be a magical anchor sustaining the spell that keeps reviving the dead. If we can confirm its existence, destroying this anchor could end the undead threat permanently.]
[That's where The Tempest Scions come in,] Ciaphas added. [We'll deploy them stealthily. Their mission will be to eliminate the Spirit Caster or necromancer and locate any evidence of a magical anchor. Once identified, their objective will be to destroy it.]
[Details of the operation will be released after its execution.]