(Vargis' POV)
The third and final Quakeback lay face-down in the trampled clearing.
Its neck had been twisted at a grotesque angle; its face was crushed from the impacts of its undead copy standing over it. Blood streamed from both beasts, although only one had seemed to care before its demise.
This would've been great, but it wasn't the issue.
The issue stemmed from the sound of trembling ground and distant cries.
Vargis hung from one arm off one of the tallest treetop branches he could find; cool winds blew through his mohawk as he stared into the distance with grim eyes.
His arms trembled, every coming breath scraped raw through his lungs, and his other arm began sending sharp signals down to his fingers whenever he tightened his grip on his blades.
He ignored it all.
Beyond the trounced battlefield they had created, Durim Forest was moving in ways he had never seen.
This can't be just because of the store; it shouldn't have interrupted migration to this extent.
Trees shook in a line stretching farther than he could see. Wind hawks dove in and out of canopies, fighting violently any airborne beast that tried to get in their way.
They're furious.
Beneath them came Great Hogs, massive boar-like beasts with tusks as long as an arm, skin as hard as armour, and bones as sturdy as steel.
There were dozens more Quakebacks, packs of horned wolverines, bark-skin lizards, and other predators.
They weren't a cohesive bunch. They struck at each other if they got in their way, but both followed the same instinctive route of return.
Vargis racked his brain for a reason.
The store had definitely pushed a lot of magic beasts away from their homes; it was natural that some wanted to return.
But he was seeing species of beasts who had nothing to do with the centre, whose homes lay elsewhere.
His expression was unpleasant; his confidence waned when faced with this number of foes.
There were hundreds in sight.
Hundreds of those beasts, where he struggled to face two.
He gritted his teeth, cursing himself.
I'm still so pathetically weak.
But he couldn't stand idly; those beasts were going to arrive any minute.
For the first time that day, Vargis had no clever remark.
"WRAITH!" he shouted again, straining his throat.
The necromancer was on another raised Quakeback below, the one he'd saved the twins from.
"I heard you the first time," Wraith called. "Unless shouting my name has become a new skill, you better explain the problem."
Vargis dropped from his branch and descended the tree. Branches bent as his black boots caught them, catching the final branch with his arm as he swung to the bottom, landing hard enough for his knees to ache as he buckled.
But he didn't have the time to dwell on his pained body.
Instead, Vargis forced himself upright and pointed to the trembling treeline.
"Everything is a problem; we're in danger, serious danger."
The Moontrail hunters turned in the direction of the finger; one of them held their nose as they snarled.
Raska was still crouched over Rosco, feeling his heartbeat as though it were her own. Wraith's reconstruction had saved Rosco's life, but it couldn't bring back all the blood he'd lost or the strength that had been crushed out of him.
The axe-wielding hunter slid both her weapons onto her back and lifted Rosco away from Raska.
"We need your strength, Raska. Focus on making it out of this with all of us alive."
Rosco looked frail as his body was slung over her furred shoulder.
The ground trembled again; everyone felt it this time.
One of the archers in the trees had spotted the encroaching attack and shuddered.
"Moons help us."
Wraith grumbled, his expression tightening under his hood, looking to Vargis.
"How many?"
"An army in the hundreds," Vargis said. "If we face them as we are, we will be butchered."
Wraith frowned.
Vargis stared him in his green eyes.
"Can your undead stop them?"
Wraith thought for a moment; his eyes burned a sickly green as he turned to the treeline.
"I could certainly raise half of them." He spoke, "But controlling hundreds of undead with accuracy is above me."
He tightened one hand on his staff.
"I can handle dozens; they'd be soldiers who obey my commands without question, no matter what. The real problem begins when that number reaches fifty or more."
Another series of impacts travelled through the ground.
They're getting closer.
"The thin line of will that connects them to me grows strained, orders come through as suggestions, and their primal instincts start to tussle with my authority."
He continued, "And when my mana runs dry, we will be trapped between an army of beasts and an army of corpses waiting for my control to fade. It would become a battle of attrition."
His green eyes locked onto Vargis.
"We aren't fitted to win one."
That answer was enough.
"So no." Vargis sighed.
Vargis looked toward Guram Keep.
Returning wasn't possible. The horde was coming from that direction, flooding through every path he could think of. He had no doubt the horde would bother the keep, but if Guram and Bitek were there, he had no reason to worry.
There was no need to doubt those two.
They were stronger than him, and not by a short margin.
His duty right now was to make sure Wraith didn't die; they could not lose their only versed mage.
And if the Moontrail died on their land, they might think it was because Guram had killed them.
He was running out of options again.
But there was one, risky and stupid option left.
The vast dome that surrounded the human store. His keen eyes had revealed nothing about its power. It had resisted every attempt he made to pass through it, yet when he offered his hand to Herman without hostility, the barrier had let him through.
If it didn't stop him, then it judged him not to be a threat.
"The humans." Vargis said.
Wraith stared at him.
"What about it?"
"We have to run there."
The Moontrail hunters reacted immediately.
Fur hackled on their backs. The spear wielder took a step toward Vargis while Raska's amber eyes glared at him.
"You expect us to seek protection from humans?" Raska asked.
Vargis rolled his eyes; they didn't have time for this.
"I expect you to seek shelter behind their barrier. What you do after is your problem."
Wraith looked at him with suspicion.
"You've only met these humans once. How can you be certain they will help."
Vargis sighed, "Before I left I shook one of their hands through the barrier, it didn't reject me."
"Their barrier let me pass. I couldn't enter before that, neither could any of the scouts behind me. I was cautious, I knew I couldn't break it, but If I can't break it; neither should the beasts be able to."
Wraith glanced at the approaching horde.
"You are risking everything on this Vargis. We don't know enough about their magic, it could be the end of us, do you still insist?"
"Yes." Vargis gestured around him hurriedly.
"If any of you have a better idea, you'd better voice it now before we're crushed beneath the masses."
The axe-wielder who held the injured Rosco stepped forward.
"How far?"
Vargis looked at her.
"Not far if we run. You, axe-bearer-"
"Corrin," she cut him off. "If I'm carrying Rosco into uncertain ends, you may use my name."
Vargis shook his head.
Pointless at this stage.
"Corrin, then. Stay in the centre with him, Raska and the spear-wielder, guard the left, me and Wraith will cover the rest."
Raska looked to Wraith.
The necromancer hadn't taken his eyes off a flock of windhawks peering over the canopy.
His hesitation left him.
"An uncertain plan is still preferable to dying without one," Wraith said. "Let's go."
The porter skeleton grabbed the pack from behind a tree.
Vargis drew his second sabre.
"Now run!" he shouted.
They left the clearing as the first line of trees behind them collapsed.
The Moontrail were quick despite their wounds. Corrin carried Rosco without complaint, not bothering to look back. Raska remained close enough to reach him if something were to happen.
Wraith ran with considerably less dignity.
He had stripped his robe and flung it over the porter; he felt it would inhibit his ability to run. This left him in his dark formal shirt and his underwear. He cursed every root, branch and rock he had to step on to move forward.
His undead held no such complaints.
The porter skeleton raced ahead with his pack rattling with his bones. Undead windhawks swept between the trees, throwing themselves into anything fast enough to catch the group.
The resurrected Quakebacks followed behind them but did not flee.
They moved with one violent step at a time.
There was no way they were going to outrun the horde.
The first undead Quakeback fell behind when a Great Hog smashed into its side.
Both beasts tore through a row of trees. The Great Hog's tusks sank beneath the stone ridges covering the Quakeback's ribs, carrying the corpse several feet before its legs found the ground again.
Green fire flared inside its eyes.
The Quakeback wrapped both arms around the hog's neck and dragged it down with enough force to shake the earth beneath Vargis' feet.
Beasts poured over their bodies before they could stand.
Wraith staggered as he felt the connection to its corpse strain.
"Leave it," He said through clenched teeth.
Its fists rose beneath the heaving mass of beasts and caught another by its skull. Bone and blood popped under its grip before several sets of jaws closed around its arms and dragged it apart.
The connection snapped.
Wraith flinched, nearly tripping over a root.
It didn't hurt him when a beast was killed, but it sent a spike of lag into his brain.
One of the Moontrail archers caught him by the back of his shirt and forced him onwards.
"Save your legs," she growled. "You can mourn your dead when we aren't about to join them.
Wraith scoffed, "I do not mourn tools."
"Then get going."
The archer shoved him forwards.
A shriek pierced the ears from above.
Three living Windhawks broke through, wind mana twisting wildly around them as they prepared to dive. Their undead kin climbed high to meet them, colliding in a burst of feathers and blood.
One of the corpses lost its head; its body continued flying for several seconds before thumping into a tree and wrapping itself around it.
The remaining two caught a living Windhawk between them, and rotting talons minced it apart as crooked beaks hammered its skull, dragging all three birds down from the sky.
Their bodies struck the ground behind the fleeing group, and the horde trailing behind buried them beneath their thunderous march.
Vargis could hear them getting closer.
He could hear individual footfalls now, as Great Hogs and Quakebacks shook the earth while smaller beasts darted between them.
A horned wolverine emerged from the undergrowth beside Corrin.
Raska bared her claws and lunged before it could leap.
She pinned it down and sank her claws into its back, as she crunched down on the back of its neck with her maw.
Another wolverine lunged in.
Vargis raised his left sabre and drove it through the butt of its mouth. Its jaws closed around the curved edge as its teeth scraped steel, forcing the blade further down with furious eyes.
He slammed a boot against the beast's chest and yanked his sword back.
Its head ripped off with it.
"Vargis!" Wraith shouted.
"How much farther?" Corrin shouted, her body starting to fail her as she stumbled over a root.
"Keep moving!"
"That wasn't a distance!"
"It's the only answer you're getting!"
The second undead Quakeback stopped behind them.
Wraith knew it too.
He stopped so suddenly that Vargis almost left him behind.
"What are you doing?"
"Making sure we reach it."
Wraith turned and drove his staff into the earth. The remaining Quakeback faced its body to the encroaching horde.
Green mana spread from the staff and raced across the ground, seeping into every corpse scattered through the ruined forest.
Wraith raised one trembling hand.
"Spirits severed from flesh, abandon your rest. Gather within this hollow vessel, burn through its bones, and hunt those who still cling to life."
Something screamed beneath the earth.
Green wisps tore themselves from the dead. The souls of Windhawks, Great Hogs and countless lesser beasts who died in the stampede rose in a writhing swarm.
They rushed into the Quakeback.
It buckled over as it convulsed.
Green flames forced themselves from the crumbling cracks in its stone armour, widening them until they started peeling off its body. The corpse swelled as more souls crammed themselves inside, each one fighting for space within the failing vessel.
The Quakeback threw its head back as the screams of countless dead beasts escaped its throat.
Then its body ruptured.
A sphere of malevolent green flames consumed the Quakeback and the forest surrounding it.
The blast tore trees from their roots and swallowed the front of the horde. Soul-fire blazed through bark and moss before leeching onto any living beast it could find. The beasts writhed in pain as they rolled across the forest floor, clawing at the flames on their body in hopes it would extinguish.
Yet it burned deeper than skin or bone.
When one stopped moving, its soul joined the fire, searching for the next mortal to feast upon.
The growing wildfire of green flames left nothing but the agonising screams of the dead and dying.
Wraith's legs buckled beneath him.
Vargis caught him with one arm while the nearest archer took the other.
"Why the hell did you not do that earlier?"
"Look at me, Vargis," he gasped, "How would I have made it this far if I did that earlier? The only mana I have left is to keep that porter standing."
The skeleton looked back and pointed at itself as if saying, me?
Vargis tightened his grip on Wraith.
"Lets move to the barrier before the flames die out."
They ran.
The soul-fire blaze bought them barely a couple of minutes.
The trees thinned as they got nearer, revealing the vast translucent barrier that held their hopes of survival.
The spear-wielder reached it shoulder first; the barrier bounced him back.
"Drop your weapons and clear your mind of anything violent!" Vargis shouted. "I believe it judges intent!"
He sheathed his sabres and approached with Wraith in hand. Cold pressure travelled across him.
Then it allowed him through.
Corrin sheathed her axe and followed with Rosco. Raska and the others entered after her, with the porter following behind.
The first beasts escaped the burning pyre shortly after.
A Quakeback crashed against the barrier, green flames clinging to scorched skin.
Its ochre mana vanished into the surface of the barrier, spreading through it in pale veins. Windhawks shot blades of air from above, only for the barrier to absorb those as well.
More bodies struck.
The dome turned less translucent as different mana attributes created their own veins along the wall.
It pulsed like a beating heart, going faster each time the barrier absorbed another attack.