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Chapter 68 - The Demoness and the Undead Horde

  Piper floated through an endless void, a sea of pain assailing her mind. At the edge of her consciousness, she could hear muffled voices. Someone was shouting, while another was whining about something. She tried to claw her way up through the darkness, but it felt like she was swimming through thick mud.

  After a few seconds, she gave up, returning to floating in the void. Pain wracked her body, and she couldn’t focus her thoughts. No matter how many times she tried to recall how she’d ended up here, the memories slipped through her fingers like mist.

  I’m tired, she thought drowsily. I should go back to sleep.

  As her eyelids descended, the surrounding space quaked with impossible power before a dragon’s face heaved into view. A horned frill encircled the back of the elongated skull, while burning red hourglass eyes regarded Piper.

  “Arise, my child,” the dragon commanded in a surprisingly feminine voice that shook the heavens. “The dragon aegis weakens every day, and you are needed.”

  Piper nodded, finding it impossible to resist the compulsion of the voice. She swam upward through the darkness toward a distant light. The command forced her to ignore her exhaustion and pain. She’d been ordered to awaken, and she would do so.

  Congratulations! You have learned a new racial skill, Infernal Resistance, Level 1.

  Demons are formidable opponents, able to resist all but the most powerful abilities and spellcasting. This racial skill grants you significant resistance to spells and skills.

  Piper inhaled sharply, her eyes fluttering open. She was greeted with a close-up view of loamy soil. She inhaled sharply before coughing from the toxic fumes. As she did, the events of the brief skirmish with the necromancer came rushing back.

  A surge of adrenaline almost made her push herself up. But then, at the last second, she remembered the powerful caster standing mere meters away. If she sat up in her current condition, she’d probably be killed immediately. She needed a plan.

  Quietly spitting the dirt out of her mouth, she glanced over at Selene. Her friend lay crumpled facedown on the ground in an unnatural position. She watched her intently, searching for any sign of life. When the dark-haired woman’s chest finally rose slightly, she almost passed out with relief.

  Whatever poison had been used on them was only meant to incapacitate. Right now, everyone was still alive. However, with the other undead aspirants she’d seen, she doubted they would stay that way for long.

  Moving her hand slightly, she realized her spells [False Face] and [Truth Shroud] had deactivated. She hurriedly recast them, grateful that she was mostly obscured by the dense green cloud of gas. Hopefully, no one had seen her true form during the brief time she’d been unconscious.

  “Hurry up, you fool,” the necromancer snapped. “We must move them for the ritual.”

  “I don’t want to go in the poison cloud, Stavros,” a second voice whined. “Why don’t you make the undead do it?”

  “Because I ordered you to!”

  She could hear footsteps approaching her and then the sound of someone being dragged away. Most likely, they were starting with Platon and his group first, since they’d been closer.

  Piper almost felt a bit bad for suspecting them of treachery. It turned out they were just unlucky after all. They truly had wanted to help her group out. But at least she could repay their kindness by saving their lives.

  As she was about to cast [Wraithskin], she realized if she disappeared, she would draw attention to herself. What she needed was a few more minutes to gather her wits and formulate a plan of attack.

  Instead, she cast [Shifting Veil], forming a mental image of herself lying face down on the ground. She then followed it up with [Enduring Casting]. Only when she was sure the illusion was in place did she cast [Wraithskin].

  As she felt her body disappearing from sight, she pushed herself up. Her first few steps were wobbly, the effects of the gas lingering.

  Ding! Your racial skill, Infernal Resistance has reached Level 2.

  Ding! Your racial skill, Infernal Resistance has reached Level 3.

  She fought down the urge to cough as she made her way out of the gas cloud. The second she reached the edge, she inhaled deeply, savouring the fresh air. With a few more breaths, her lungs cleared, and her mind immediately sharpened.

  Piper cast [Infernal Bowstring], the crimson string snapping between the ends of the bow. She drew an arrow from her quiver and quietly nocked it.

  She watched as a sandy-haired youth, with an acne-scarred face, and a crooked nose dragged away Sophia. When he reached the center of the village, he positioned her carefully next to a pile of skulls. Runes had been carved deeply into the bones that glowed with a dark power.

  Even at this distance, she could feel a foul aura emanating from the grisly pile of human remains. She didn’t know for sure, but she suspected the skulls had been used to raise the fallen aspirants and peasants.

  For the next few minutes, she only watched as the others were placed near the piles of skulls. Since none of them seemed to be in imminent danger, she wanted to wait until she had completely recovered from the gas.

  When the young man finally reached her body, she aimed her bow at him. She couldn’t allow him to discover her illusion.

  Sticking her tongue out slightly to concentrate, she drew the bowstring back and aimed for his throat. Her fingers released, sending the arrow winging through the air; it struck right above his collarbone. His eyes widened as he pawed at the shaft protruding from his neck. Gurgling, he collapsed to the ground.

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  “What now, you fool!” the robed man thundered. He stomped over but froze at the sight of the young man with his lifeblood pouring out.

  Stavros stood over the body of the youth before pulling back his hood to reveal a skeletal face. The magic he wielded had twisted his features, making them sallow and diseased. Sunken black eyes surveyed the surrounding area.

  “I will make whoever did that pay!” he shouted. “A thousand deaths will not be enough for costing me my assistant.”

  Piper didn’t reply and simply nocked another arrow. She released, her arrow soaring toward her target. Before it reached the man, a wall of bones erupted from the ground. The arrow struck the gruesome barrier and deflected away.

  Stavros shook his head. “Did you honestly believe a simple arrow would stop a servant of the Pale Crusade?”

  Piper silently drew and shot a second missile; it bounced off as well, much to the robed man’s amusement. She quickly calculated the distance to the unconscious aspirants before deciding they should be a safe distance away.

  Releasing her third arrow she watched it fly toward the barrier. A moment later, it struck the wall of undead and detonated in a blinding flash. The blast tore the barrier apart. A gruesome rain of bones and rotted flesh poured down from the sky as she strode forward.

  The impact had knocked Stavros on his backside. He sat there stunned, his mouth hanging open, while his robes smoldered from the explosion. Raising his hand, a portal opened on his palm and spewed out a barrage of sharpened bone in Piper’s general direction. The projectiles spread out like a shotgun blast.

  Piper spun around, taking the impact on her back. She gritted her teeth as they punched through her skin and sank deep into her flesh. Instantly, her [Wraithskin] disintegrated into shards of light.

  Spinning back around, she locked eyes with Stavros. As she drew another arrow, she activated [Demonic Blood] to heal her wounds. Her skin blazed with heat as the bony chunks were pushed out.

  “A hunter?” Stavros snarled. “You’re only a hunter?” Then his eyes narrowed. “No, you have a false class. Are you an adventurer sent from the guild to hunt me down? How did they discover my master’s plans? No matter. You will answer all my questions when you—”

  As he’d been speaking, she’d swiftly drawn an arrow, nocked it, and loosed. The arrow slammed into his chest, cutting off his words.

  “Save me!” the man screamed. Dozens more of the undead creatures poured out of the huts and formed a wall around the man. Meanwhile, the rest charged in her direction.

  Instead of firing, she cast [Shifting Veil] in front of her and darted away. She needed to find somewhere safe to recast [Wraithskin]. Backpedaling from the horde of undead, she watched as the zombies milled about, suddenly aimless after her disappearance.

  But one of the undead wearing richly appointed armor changed course and headed in her direction. The zombie didn’t look long dead, and one eye had been replaced with a glowing red gem. He held an elegantly crafted longsword in one hand, while he grasped a square shield in the other. Even worse, he had a gold badge on his chest. He had an epic class.

  Casting [Wraithskin], she altered course again, trying to get a shot off at Stavros. But she lowered her bow as the man hobbled behind a building. At least he wasn’t heading in the direction of her friends. For now, they were being ignored by the mass of undead.

  Ding! Your spell, Wraithskin has reached level 6.

  Piper frowned as the armored zombie veered off to head directly toward her again. The zombie raised his shield before charging at her. Caught by surprise, she stumbled back and barely ducked under a swing of his sword. The darned zombie could see through her illusions somehow.

  She raised her bow and fired point blank; the missile punched right through the undead’s chestplate. Normally, the wound would have taken out any other enemy. But the zombie barely blinked and hacked at her again with his sword.

  There was no time to get a second shot off, so she used [Infernal Recall]. Her bow and quiver blinked out of existence.

  Grateful the new skill had worked, she raised her claws and prepared to face the zombie. These weren’t the shambling creatures she’d read about in fantasy books and light novels. They moved far faster than the living and had dread intelligence.

  The zombie blurred for a moment, almost as if he partially phased out of existence, then crashed into her like a freight train. The impact sent her sprawling to the ground, and her [Wraithskin] illusion broke apart for a second time.

  Rolling to the side, she narrowly evaded a swing of his sword. Where the blade struck, the ground shattered, pelting her with clods of dirt. She pushed herself up and retreated as the zombie continued to advance.

  As the undead creature marched forward, she activated [Tail Strike]. Her armored tail shot out, hammering the chest plate and leaving a deep dent. But the zombie barely reacted to the impact and lunged forward with his sword in an attempt to skewer her.

  Dodging aside, she scolded herself for not aiming for the brain. It was like she’d never read a comic about zombies before.

  Piper ducked under another strike before rising up and raking her claws across his face. The rotted flesh tore away easily, exposing white bone underneath. Her next slash deflected off the vambrace protecting his arm.

  As she pushed her attacks, she realized that dozens of zombies had surrounded them while she fought. She’d been so caught up in her battle that she hadn’t been paying attention to the horde.

  The surrounding zombies were mostly peasants, but she saw a handful of aspirants mixed in their ranks. As one, the undead creatures began to pelt her with spells, rocks, and hurled spears.

  A firebolt struck her cheek, making her reel back. Then another burned through the shoulder of her dress. From behind, a spear pierced her side. The metal head burst through her stomach in the front.

  Piper reached back and tore the spear out in a spray of blood. Dodging a thrown rock, she launched herself at the spellcaster. She slammed into the woman and knocked her to the ground. As she landed on top of her, she lashed out with her claws; they tore through the undead’s decaying neck until the head popped off.

  Fighting down a gag at the horrible sight, she leaped back to her feet. A flurry of notifications followed.

  Congratulations! You have slain a Zombie, Level 77.

  Ding! Your race, Shadeling has reached level 46.

  Ding! Your class, Deceiver has reached level 43

  But the other zombies had taken the time to close ranks around her while she’d been fighting. They pressed inward, flailing with their fists, stabbing with daggers, and battering her with feet. It was like she was being suffocated by a crashing wave of putrid flesh.

  She activated [Demonic Blood] and felt her wounds burning as they healed shut. Already, she was down to half her mana. She had to finish this fight fast and stop the necromancer.

  Weaving and evading, she launched attacks whenever she spotted an opening. She needed to retreat, recall her bow, and shoot them from a distance. However, before she could do that, she needed to kill the one that could see through her illusions.

  A glancing sword blow sent pain radiating down her arm. Then, a knife scored her shoulder blade from behind. By the second, dozens more of the zombies were appearing from the village and joining the fight. They were going to pull her down with sheer weight of numbers.

  Piper bounded forward and slammed into the armored zombie who could see through her illusions. Her tail shot forward, plunging through his eye socket with the gem into his brain. Tearing it free in a welter of black ichor, she spun around and used [Quick Claw] on three undead peasants. A flood of notifications appeared, but she ignored them.

  All three of the zombies collapsed, great chunks torn out of their chests. She evaded a sword swing and used her tail to finish off the fallen zombies. Each one twitched before lying still.

  Something struck her from behind, sending her stumbling forward. A body leapt on top of her, then another. They were trying to bury her under a mass of bodies.

  More and more zombies hurled themselves on top of Piper. Sharp nails tore at her skin, and teeth chewed on her exposed flesh. Her legs gave out as the weight became too much, and she felt like she was drowning in a sea of undead corpses.

  As the pile grew larger, she screamed out. No matter how much she tore at the zombies with her claws, more continued to pile on.

  She was trapped with no way out.

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