Tilly recoils from Rennick. “Undead? I hate undead.”

  Rennick’s mouth curls into a sneer. “Don’t worry, Tilly. I’ll make sure they stay dead this time.”

  Rennick stabs his dagger once more into the oozing corpse of the rat. Wyn grimaces at the disgusting sight. Even Froggy, who normally isn’t fazed by death whatsoever, recoils from the gruesome scene. The rat stops twitching, lying dead. Froggy gives it a tentative touch to make sure it’s dead. Seeing that it’s truly and permanently dead, Froggy relaxes, glancing up at Wyn as if asking permission to eat the corpse. Wyn shakes her head, thinking that undead rat would upset Froggy’s stomach.

  “No, let him try it. I want to see what happens,” Rennick says, eyes wide with excitement.

  “He’s way too excited about this,” Timnos says.

  Rennick rolls his eyes at Timnos, and begins coating his daggers with some sort of strange substance, smelling intensely of citrus and pungent herbs. Wyn picks up Froggy and sets him on her shoulder, far away from the corpse. She won’t risk him getting sick from eating a dead rat.

  “This changes things,” Elara says. “I suspected we might be dealing with the undead, but had hoped we wouldn’t be. Undead are very dangerous, and this makes for three different enemy types we have to account for. Alone, they could be dealt with, however, but all together like this? That’s dangerous. We need to plan accordingly for the fight ahead.”

  Rennick waves his tub of strange-smelling goo towards the other party members. “Have you fought undead before? If you’ve got weapons, best coat them with this. Prevents them from self-healing.”

  Wyn takes out her rusty dagger and moves toward Rennick, who gags.

  “You’re not actually going to use that, are you?”

  Wyn frowns at him. “Yes, it’s my only melee weapon.”

  “That won’t do,” Rennick says, shaking his head.

  Reaching into his inventory, he takes out one of his daggers and hands it to her. “I’ve got plenty. It won’t be perfect for you, but it’s sure as hell better than that rusty mess you have now.”

  Item: Dusksteel Dagger - Uncommon

  Description: Crafted from Dusksteel, this dagger’s blade enhances the potency of poisons and afflictions. The metal’s unique molecular structure amplifies venomous essentia, increasing toxin efficacy and prolonging their effects on targets. Ideal for precision strikes that maximize biological damage.

  Wyn tests the blade with a few swipes in the air. It feels quite a bit heavier than her current rusty dagger, but the balance is far better. Her only complaint is that the blade’s length is quite short, and built for someone of dwarven stature. While Wyn is very short compared to most humans, this dagger is still shorter than she’d like.

  “Good idea, Rennick. When we get back to Lethisburg, I’ll get you some proper gear. That’ll do in the meantime,” Elara says.

  Wyn smiles, thanking them both. “So what’s the plan, Elara?”

  Elara sighs. “Ultimately, this is not a fight we win.”

  Timnos starts to protest, but a heavy glare from Elara silences him.

  “Our quest is about infiltrating this place, and learning. We can’t win this fight on our own. Rennick is best equipped for this type of encounter. He can sneak in, learn what we need to know, and get out.”

  Tilly frowns. “I heard undead were impossible to sneak up on. Something about a natural sense for living things.”

  “She’s right,” Rennick agrees. “Undead want to eat anything living. They’ll detect us.”

  Wyn’s brows furrow. “Wait, if they can detect the living, don’t they know we’re here already?”

  “Good catch, Wyn,” Elara says, patting Wyn on her shoulder. The gesture is small, but fills Wyn with a sense of pride for pleasing the talented warrior woman.

  “So stealth is out then?” Tilly asks.

  Rennick shakes his head. “Not necessarily. Just have to move faster than they do. Or give them a bigger prize to focus on.”

  All eyes turn to Wyn, whose cheeks flush. Just a few hours earlier, she had failed at making a proper illusion, but now they wanted her to create another one. And if she fails, then they’ll be stuck in a losing battle. Wyn likes the challenge, but is too aware of her own inexperience to think that it’d be a good idea.

  “I don’t know… That seems dangerous. If I fail, won’t Rennick get caught in a bad spot?”

  “Oh yes,” says Rennick. “I like dangerous.”

  There’s something wild and strange in Rennick’s expression that makes Wyn wince. He actually wants to be at greater risk. Wyn figures he must be some sort of adrenaline junkie, or have a death wish. Either way, it makes her uncomfortable.

  “It’s your funeral,” Wyn says with a sigh. “So let me guess, I make an illusion to draw them out and Rennick goes inside to scout things out?”

  “That works for me. It’ll mean we have a hard fight on our hands. Timnos, your flames will come in handy for killing them. Tilly, you focus on keeping us alive. And Wyn, you keep that illusion up. Give them a real juicy target.”

  Wyn points at Psai, who hovers nearby. “Could he make good bait?”

  Elara shakes his head. “He’s not technically alive in the way we are. It wouldn’t work.”

  “Without flesh and blood, I would be useless as bait for the undead!” Psai says, overly encouraging as ever, though there’s a twinge of fear in his robotic voice.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Wyn begrudgingly turns to Rennick. “Got any suggestions?”

  Rennick twirls his daggers. “They undead like their meat fresh.”

  Wyn gags. “Okay, so I make a bunch of kids or something?” She grimaces. “That’s gruesome.” She shudders at the thought. Even if it’s not real, pretending to use children as bait feels wrong. But if she has no better option, she’ll do it.

  “Or a couple of healers and clerics. They tend to really hate those.” Tilly adds, with a touch of nervousness. After all, she’s a healer herself. It’s no wonder she’s nervous around the undead.

  Wyn shakes her head. “Alright then, one batch of healers coming right up.”

  Plan set, the group sets forward towards the opening at the end of the hall. As they approach, the sounds of strange beasts become clearer. Gurgling and bubbling mixed with the acrid stench of death pierce their nostrils, but they press on regardless. Determination creases the lines on all their faces. They’ve come this far, and won’t turn back now.

  Peering through the opening, the cave opens from the streets to a massive cavern that plunges into the depths below them, a long winding trail of stone and patchwork wood circling the exterior wall of the chamber. Below, goblins move in and out of buildings. Some carry large bundles, and others bark orders to underlings.

  Near the main buildings, a fetid underground lagoon rests. Thick globs of mud move and shift with boomfrogs. The remaining elders stand guard, while a massive behemoth of a frog lies in the center. Nearly doubling the size of the elder boomfrogs, the beast dwarfs the goblin buildings that surround the lagoon.

  “That doesn’t look good,” Wyn says.

  Tilly shivers as they walk. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea; maybe we should turn back.”

  “Nah,” Timnos scoffs. “I need to scorch some goblins. Got an itch for it.”

  Despite Timnos’ confident words, his eyes betray the roiling doubt lying just below the surface. Of their group, only Rennick seems unfazed by the expanse below them. Wyn wonders why he’s so confident. Is there something he knows that the rest don’t? He said that undead were his specialty, but Wyn’s yet to see any outside the rat in the hallway behind them.

  As if answering her question, a guttural chanting begins emanating from below. A chill runs up Wyn’s spine as the sound reaches her ears. The language is unfamiliar, but its intent rings clear in her mind. She’s not encountered powerful magic like this in Eden, but in Elysius, Wyn did battle with a witches’ coven. That battle had ended poorly, with only a few of her party leaving with their avatar’s lives intact.

  Looking down, Wyn spots the source of the chanting. Encircling the lagoon’s edge, a cluster of goblins shrouded in tattered dark robes sway and chant in a slow, guttural rhythm. From high above on the cavern ridge, Wyn spots their horrid eyes; milky white like shards of cracked porcelain, unblinking and hollow. Their skin, stretched taut over sharp bones, is a sickly patchwork of peeling parchment and raw, oozing flesh. Ragged tears expose glimpses of blackened sinew and festering muscle beneath, pulsing faintly as if struggling to reclaim life long lost.

  Their breath comes in ragged, rasping wheezes, a chorus of dry, rattling coughs that echo through the still cavern air. The robes, once finely woven, now hang in frayed tatters streaked with dark stains of ancient blood, ichor, and something slick and unknown. These are not mere goblin sorcerers. They are the rancid, rotting echoes of goblins long dead, raised and warped into beings of pure decay.

  Wyn looks at Elara, the two women sharing a look of deep concern. Whatever is happening down there, they need to find out fast or leave as soon as possible. They can’t afford to linger.

  Elara is about to speak when Rennick unexpectedly bursts into action.

  “I’m not waiting any longer. Stick to the plan!”

  Rennick rushes forward, sliding down the edge of the cavern until he reaches the base, before slipping into the shadows unseen. The sudden tumbling dwarf wasn’t very quiet on the way down, leading to several goblins turning to investigate.

  “Shit,” Elara growls. “We need to move now. Timnos, be ready to fire. Wyn, make an illusion.”

  “Wait, do I still make a healer illusion? I don’t see any undead?”

  “Do whatever you want,” Elara scoffs. “I’m not letting one of you die.”

  Elara charges at a blistering speed as she equips a set of armor Wyn hasn’t seen before. It gleams in the torchlight in shining silver and gold. Alongside her armor, Elara equips a massive shield and her usual greatsword. Judging by the speed of her movement and the intention behind her words, Elara is taking this far more seriously than their previous battles. She’s bringing her A-game to whatever is coming for them.

  “Shit. I guess we’re doing this,” Timnos calls out, sprinting after her.

  Tilly follows, with Wyn close behind. “This doesn’t seem like the plan, Wyn!”

  Wyn shakes her head. “We improvise. Rennick had his own plans.”

  Wyn and Tilly are far slower than Timnos, and especially slower than Elara. By the time they reach their companions, the fight is already roaring to life. Elara plows through the goblins with ruthless efficiency, smashing one aside with her shield while her greatsword carves another down. A small heap of goblin bodies already lies at her feet, and more are well on their way to joining it. Timnos stands right behind her, firing bolts of bright blue flame that scorch the air and burn any goblin foolish enough to try and get past Elara’s guard.

  Never has the difference between Elara and the rest of them been so stark. With every swing, she slays at least one goblin, sometimes two. Wyn thinks back to her first moments in Eden, when even Captain Drell had struggled to kill a goblin in one strike. Elara is playing in a different league entirely.

  But Wyn refuses to be left out.

  She conjures her essentia bolts and launches them into the fray. One after another, they streak forward, smashing into goblins and sending them stumbling. It’s not enough to kill one of the goblins, but it does good damage. The same can be said of Timnos’ powerful flames. Exchanging a nod, she and Timnos fall into a rhythm; one blast of his fire followed by her raw essentia is enough to finish most goblin targets.

  For a moment, the fight is actually going well. Tilly only has to dart in now and then to mend a cut across Elara’s arm or patch a burn on Timnos’s shoulder.

  Then everything goes wrong.

  With so much carnage flooding the cavern, the chanting goblins, and whatever foul magic controls them, takes notice. A dark, sickly magic pulses outward, heavy and oppressive. The ground beneath Wyn’s feet begins to rumble and churn as the walls of the cavern groan.

  “Fall back!” Elara shouts, her tone sharper than Wyn has ever heard.

  Wyn does not wait to ask why. Whatever makes Elara fearful is not something she wants to experience. She turns and bolts, Tilly, and Timnos right at her heels.

  Behind them, the earth erupts.

  Skeletons of goblins, humanoids, beasts, and far less recognizable shapes claw themselves from the ground in a frenzy of snapping jaws and clattering bones. Their empty sockets glow faintly as they lunge after the fleeing party.

  “Wyn! Now’s the time!” Elara cries, parrying a descending bone axe and shoving back a swarm of skeletal goblins.

  Wyn begins casting immediately, pouring essentia into the illusion spell. Interlocking circles bloom in the air, pulsing with purple and blue light.

  Then, just as suddenly, they collapse in on themselves and scatter as useless motes of glittering dust.

  “The hell was that?” Timnos yells, voice cracking somewhere between rage and terror.

  “Your spell fizzled!” Tilly pants. “You lost focus!”

  “Kinda hard to focus with the death parade behind us!” Wyn shouts back.

  There’s no point in trying again. Not while sprinting. Not while the undead close in with rattling groans and snapping jaws. They keep running, boots slapping against the uneven stone as the cavern behind them fills with the hungry chorus of the reanimated.

  “Psai!” Wyn screams, desperation beating in her voice. “Got any ideas?”

  “I am not programmed to have ideas,” Psai replies, floating anxiously beside her. “I am programmed to assist you!”

  “Then assist me! Do something! Anything!”

  There is a three-second pause, far too long in a life-or-death sprint, followed by an electronic chirp.

  “Understood. Executing distraction subroutine version zero point one!”

  Psai floats into the air, glowing brighter than ever. Without warning, Psai blasts the most aggressively upbeat festival music Wyn has ever heard in her life. A wall of sound erupts across the cavern: bright bells, thundering drums, frenzied clapping, and a chorus singing about sunshine, friendship, and dancing together forever.

  The skeletons stare, jaws hanging open in confusion and amazement at the cacophony of sound. After a moment, Psai floats down, his orb noticeably dimmer than before.

  “Please run now!”