Karp
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Chapter 98
🕑 Added 2024-11-04 20:08:14 +0000 UTCBloody rain pinged off metal hauberks, and sizzled as it collided with the barrier of Light shrouding the Elven host.
The mixture of purity and filth sounded like butter frying on a skillet. At the same time, the classic sound of rain hitting metal served as the backdrop for what horrors began to unfold.
This bloody rain created a thick, roiling fog. Varrus speculated that they had walked straight into a trap when he saw some shadowy figures moving about from within.
Mostly, this was in line with the thought that during the entire siege, there had not been one sighting of the Darkfallen.
Before this ambush, Varrus had concluded that they were used for some profane ritual. The meatball resting besides Lana'thel-created from the stitched faces-was a clue supporting that theory.
However, Deatholme was the provincial capitol. There should be thousands, no, tens of thousands of Darkfallen lurking nearby.
It was due to this line of thinking, that had Varrus reassess the current situation, and scan all around him for any conclusive signs of the missing Darkfallen. One spot lacking in any fog began to shake and rumble. The dirt was parting, and from it, Undead were emerging!
Varrus had a sudden revelation. The enemy had been buried all around them this entire time! Lana'thel had capitalized on the fact that the Undead had no need to breathe!
The blood rain was acting as a sort of wake up call, rousing this group of Darkfallen out from the soil, and empowering them with an unholy power.
When Varrus finally got a good look at one, he grimaced.
Whatever Lana'thel had done to the former denizens of this city had left them looking drained, and vampiric. Where Nightsong, her troops, and even Tenris had appeared intelligent, and of decent looks similar to Sylvanas, these Darkfallen looked like what an Undead Wretched would appear as.
In short, these deformed, ashen skinned creatures were emerging from the dirt numbering in the tens of thousands all around them.
The Highborn armies were surrounded on all sides as the former Queen and her entourage stood atop a balcony looking down.
The entire Elven line had gone quiet as this incredible ambush and debacle unfolded. The victory over the treants seemed like a long forgotten memory as more and more of these starved, mindless Wretched Darkfallen crawled their way out of shallow graves.
Blood rain splattered upon their decayed faces, and filled them with a glow. One after another, the Wretched Darkfallen grew talons, and tattered wings on their backs. Their veins pulsed black, and their sclera were dark like a bottomless abyss.
Varrus wasn't one to wait around for a transformation, or for an enemy to adjust their strategy without a reaction, but this sudden emergence had happened all around him within a handful of seconds. He couldn't put a stop to this anymore than a regular man could halt a tsunami!
Whilst this was going down, Nightsong was fighting for her life within Tha'salah's grip. Every second wasted meant her life was in peril. Standing still and letting the enemy take the initiative went against everything Varrus stood for.
He had to do something, and fast, otherwise his group would lose all hope.
Varrus squeezed Syra’s hand one more time, then activated Apotheosis.
The perk that he held in reserve to end a fight, or win with overwhelming firepower had been unleashed as a desperate hail merry to seize the initiative, and regain the lost morale due to this stunning ambush.
Within seconds of activating Apotheosis, the various Restoration perks attached to Warriors Flame spread all throughout Varrus's line of sight.
Every ally and enemy nearby was coated in the golden shroud.
For those who he considered friendly, their stamina was rejuvenated, and wounds healed at an astonishing rate.
As for the blood drenched Darkfallen, they began to smoke and burn. A few fell to their deaths, turning into a pile of ashes.
However, the haunting voice of Lana'thel sang a spell that echoed with an unholy beauty.
Her magic sang throughout the battlefield, and the blood rain danced to her melody.
Shrouds of sanguine coated the Warriors Flame, and doused it with ease.
Varrus blinked his eyes in shock and surprise. This was the first time a system ability had been directly countered in such a blatant manner.
His shock led to hesitation, and it wasn't until he saw Syra block an orb of foul blood that he woke up from his fugue.
Her sword cleaved the tainted vicar in half, then exploded it from within thanks to her powers over the Unholy Void.
Glancing up, Varrus noticed that Lana'thel continued to sing her spells, and various attacks began to manifest from the bloody rain.
To Varrus's right, he saw one such attack hit a pair of rangers. As a result, they lost their protective shielding provided by the priests. Without the Light shield, the rain ate away at their flesh, and they melted like the Nazi's in Indiana Jones when they opened the Ark.
The smell of their fluids, and the sight of their remains mixing with the red rain pooling at Varrus's boots had him sick to his stomach.
Goo and other body parts soon permeated the hill leading up to Tha'salah as Wretched Darkfallen, alongside profane spells stripped one Elf after another of their protective shields.
Syra was cutting through the rain at super speeds, protecting Varrus from harm, yet only seconds had passed, yet over 1,000 Sin'Dorei had been slain.
This entire time, Tha'salah had not remained idle, and roots had continued to spear up from the dark depths. Elves were attacked on all sides, from the sky, as well as from below. The situation was untenable. Something had to be done, or they would be hemorrhaging 1,000 Elves every minute.
Balling his hands into fists, Varrus took all this in, and reminded himself that arrogance had its price, yet the time for reflection was later. Composing his roiling emotions, he willed himself to action!
“To me, House Vandercross! Rally! Rally sons and daughters of Quel'Thalas!” Varrus cried out to his forces, and began to cast Infinite Light in all directions.
The beam of light bounced between allies, and damaged enemies.
Varrus scowled as he noticed his Master tier Restoration spell-one that was super effective against Undead-was taking 5-10 seconds to ash just one of these super juiced Darkfallen. Ordinarily, he should be able to annihilate any Common Undead in 1-2 seconds, making power washing this group a simple exercise.
However, due to the blood rain, and Lana'thel buffing her trash mobs, these ordinarily lackluster Wretched Undead had transformed into tanky berserkers.
Next, he cast Mayhem on them in an attempt to cause some chaos in their ranks, but the protection from the blood magic prevented them from being affected by the Master tier Illusion spell.
Varrus had never before seen such a ravenous, and bloodthirsty enemy that could resist his magic so effortlessly. These Wretched Darkfallen put the ghouls to shame when it came to hunger, and unlike those slobbering monsters, had the grace and agility of an Elf. Combine this natural talent with the constant buff from Lana'thel's blood magic, and they were a threat like no other. From Varrus's perspective, it was as if he was surrounded by tens of thousands of apex predators.
Fortunately his wife had reacted quickly and their losses, while heavy for an Elven army, were not catastrophic.
After taking action, Varrus began to bring his forces into a tighter formation, and regained some ground after their initial loss due to the surprise attack.
Things had stabilized at his position, but that didn't mean he could afford to sit on his hands, and hope to exhaust the enemy, or win through attrition.
As long as the tree had those souls in its branches, and the blood poured down, the mana available to these two raid bosses was virtually limitless.
Taking a moment to breathe, and think, he had to quickly consider his options.
He could support Lor'Themar/the Convocation forces on the right flank, and relieve Nightsong, then take out Tha'salah.
Or he could join up with Kael on the left flank and aim for the castle, and Lana'thel.
On one hand, the roots and pollen coming from the World Tree were a serious detriment, however, these buffed Darkfallen were going absolutely crazy within this blood rain. Coming to the conclusion that Lana'thel has to die, Varrus cast one last glance at Nightsong's beleaguered form, and felt his heart tighten.
“Syra, Rho'dan, serve as our vanguard. Illidari, secure our flanks and buy time. Telonicus, Tae'thelon, keep up what you're doing. Everyone else, form up behind us. We advance towards the mad Queen!” Varrus's voice boomed towards his line.
Before he could reach her, however, he would have to deal with thousands of these creatures. Identifying the blood rain as the major source of his troubles, Varrus thought up a few ways he could take it out. Change Weather wasn't any good, however, an idea came to mind. Blood was a liquid, just like the sap from earlier!
Without delay, Varrus started spamming Frozen Orb into and above the sea of ravenous Darkfallen surrounding them like it was going out of style.
He had recognized that the giant block of ice was the perfect fire and forget spell. Where most of his magic had an immediate effect, lasting just a couple seconds after being cast, Frozen Orb was different. It lasted for minutes, and acted as the perfect AOE weapon in his arsenal.
Slick sanguine rain froze midair, and dropped to the ground, only to be merged with slush and snow instead of falling upon the waiting Darkfallens open mouths.
The result was extraordinary.
These troublesome foes that were like a raging Hulk when buffed by this thick blood rain, became almost like twigs when bereft of the sanguine substance.
“Do not hesitate, House Vandercross, seize upon their weakness!” Varrus prompted.
Not needing to be told twice, his Elites began to cut into the weakened Darkfallen like a man hacking into styrofoam.
It would seem that these mutated Darkfallen were extra strong when buffed, but as soon as the tap was cut, they would transform into dried out husks. They wilted, and were significantly less energetic, much like a plant without water.
Rho'dan fought in sync with the Crossguard at the forefront, and claimed over a hundred lives in this breakout push. Before, these Heroes had trouble slaying a dozen Wretched Darkfallen over the span of a couple minutes.
If even Heroes like Rho'dan had trouble, then it could be said the Common tiers amongst his forces had trouble staying alive! However, with the rain mitigated, even his lesser forces could snap through the enemy like a child snaps a pencil!
Syra wasn't overly affected whilst the enemy was buffed, as her magic had an annihilation type of effect. However, once the rain no longer was a factor, her kill count quickly ballooned into the thousands. Her sword swiped so fast, and with such efficiency, that she was like a perpetual motion device.
Unstoppable!
Seeing the remarkable outcome of Frozen Orb, Varrus was internally grateful that he hadn't locked himself into the fire mage mindset. It was great to burn your enemies into nothing more than ash and cinder, but there was a poetic elegance to freezing your enemy into stationary statues. Additionally. it was rather comedic to watch them stumble as all their stamina was robbed from them, and see them slip on the ice.
The Frozen Orb did more than simply freeze the rain that fell nearby. It also shot out exploding ice spikes, and radiated an aura of cold, creating a field of snow. All of this was enhanced by Varrus's perks, and constantly ate away at the Undead.
More than a dozen Frozen Orbs hovered above the enemy, and a dozen more were on the way as Varrus ate at his stored Mana Stones like they were candy.
Frozen spikes impaled bodies, and exploded upon impact, creating shrapnel that fatally pierced any enemies within 5ft of the attack.
Waves of cold radiated off the floating balls, giving frostbite to the Darkfallen, and slowing their limbs and freedom of movement.
In-between tossing out Frozen Orbs, Varrus cast Infinite Light to heal his allies, and power wash the weakened Undead out of existence.
Within a handful of minutes, the desperate situation had reversed itself, and he had already slaughtered 1-3,000 foes with his constant spamming of magic.
Varrus had regained his confidence in the fight when he saw a chain reaction of a dozen Wretched Darkfallen fall flat on their asses, slipping on some ice.
He wanted to laugh at the sight, but settled for a small grin. The ambush had set him on edge, but he wouldn't allow this minor victory to make himself arrogant.
They were making good headway, so Varrus took this opportunity to aid the left and right flanks by tossing some Frozen Orbs in their directions.
Briefly glancing at both flanks, Varrus saw that Kael was in a serious battle against Lana'thel, and the thousand faced meatball thing.
Whereas Lor'Themar was struggling against Tha'salah.
Then that left him with-!
Varrus blinked in surprise, and felt as if time had stopped as a black arrow streaked past both Syra and Rho'dan, and collided with his shields.
Ebony Flesh formed, and shattered in an instant, and the protection granted by his enchantments glowed white, before it too began to crack.
Varrus had enough time to just barely twist to the side, and avoid having the arrow pierce his neck. However, the black arrow eventually broke through his magical shields, and entered his shoulder!
“Aurgh!” Varrus gasped, and fell to a knee in pain.
He felt black tendrils seep into his veins, and his body seize up like he was experiencing rigor mortis!
Any attempt to cast magic produced not even a spark. In fact, every time he tried to cast a spell, he felt nothing but excruciating pain!
Varrus's vision was blurry, and foam was bubbling at the edge of his lips, yet the system text was crystal clear.
[Black Arrow: Silenced 10 min. Paralyzed 10 min. Poisoned 20 dmg/sec.]
Not only that, but without a barrier, the Blood Rain fell upon him too, and began to fry his skin like it was butter on a skillet!
For the first time since his transmigration, he saw his health bar rapidly decrease at an astonishing rate. He had less than 400hp, a couple seconds of this…and he would die.
His blood felt like magma, and his heart was pumping at all cylinders. Distant sounds felt up close, and funded his sense of hearing like an anvil, whereas nearby noises were far and distant, like they were underwater.
The only saving grace was that his protective enchantments recharged-like a shield from Halo-and began to protect him from the blood rain.
However, he was forced to chug potion after potion from his inventory just to survive. Because the effects of the arrow never went away so long as it remained lodged in his shoulder!
He wanted to pull it out, but the paralysis in his limbs was too severe. If he was to go on, it had to be removed!
“Varrus!” Syra called out and ran to his side, deflecting another Black Arrow as she scooped him up.
“Pull. Out.” Varrus barely gasped to Syra as the pain was making him delirious.
The constant flow of poison in his veins combined with the rapid healing due to the potions was a fate worse than death.
For a fraction of a second, Varrus wanted death to claim him, to release him from such excruciating torture, yet the look on his wife's face gave him the resolve to carry on.
Syra looked at him in worry, yet didn't hesitate to rip the arrow from his shoulder.
Without any time to delay, Varrus cast Dispel Magic upon himself.
Thanks to the Alteration perk: Intuitive Magic, he could cast Novice and Apprentice spells at any time.
Thankfully, the poison was magical in nature, and had been removed along with the silence.
Varrus conjured some water, and took a big gulp. His face was pale and haggard after such a close call.
Looking up, he saw Syra crying, and angrily blocking Black Arrows from time to time.
He also saw Rho'dan alongside the Crossguard forming a shieldwall. Varrus mirthlessly grinned. He knew going all in on defense for those guys’ enchantments would pay off.
Dusting himself off, Varrus glared hatefully at the ranger who stood upon the castle balcony.
She smirked down at him, then gestured at the handsome-druid looking-Darkfallen sitting beside her.
Opening his eyes, the man began to cast a spell, powerful swirls of energy coalesced around him, marking him as a serious threat.
Varrus withheld a snarl as he identified his two attackers. The ranger was a former Ranger Captain, Ariel, whilst the other was Lana'thel's youngest, Prince Valanar.
Raising his hands, Varrus prepared a spell of his own.
He wouldn't rest until these fuckers were ground into dust!
