Michael Head
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Wandering Warrior: Judge - Chapter 41
🕑 Added 2023-05-22 22:45:53 +0000 UTCChapter 41
As I got back to the others, it was clear they were all exhausted. We had been fighting for well over twenty minutes, maybe more. That kind of exertion would make anyone feel like they were about to fall over dead.
“Did you finish it?” Cross was the only one still steady on his feet, but the line of darkness on his wrist had grown jagged in the short time I was gone. “Is he dead?”
I looked back to where Gleason had disappeared into a hole in the ground. There was no way I was going down there right now to confirm the kill. “I didn’t see him die, but I would bet my spear you're using that he isn’t coming back after the undead are done with him.” Not that it mattered much anyway. He had been pretty easy to beat. “If by some miracle he lives through this shit and wants to fight me again, I’ll just kick his ass all over again.”
Jess gave me an exhausted thumbs up. “Great. Why don’t you get over here and give us a hand?” The blood of the undead made it look like someone had splashed her with black paint in a poor attempt to recreate a Pollock painting. “I could use a break.”
I had to jump over a pile of bodies to get to them. Our group had been putting in some work. “I know you guys really want to finish off what’s in here, but what do you think about getting out of here?”
“What about the lich?” Leedy had to brace himself against the wall to stand upright, but he didn’t have an ounce of quit in him. “There’s no way we can let something like that run wild. It’s too big of a threat.”
“Oh, I’ve got a surprise for that thing.” I sheathed my sword and hefted my mace. “It doesn’t know how screwed it is.”
Cross stepped forward. “Do you need us to do anything? Maybe I can hurt it now that I hold some of its power.”
“No. What I need you to do is hold a perimeter around me while I handle him. Then, we’ll need to move fast. My spell will allow us to follow his soul back to his phylactery, but the trail only stays visible for a short time.” I pointed to the stairs, where the other White Wardens were still getting their asses kicked. “There’s no telling how far away it is, so I might have to leave you behind for a while. If we do get split up after we plow through those guys, find a place nearby to recover and I’ll find you.”
Everyone agreed, so we readied ourselves for a fight to get back over to the lich. I only had enough mana for the first part of what I needed to do, meaning I would have to take the time to recharge when I got to the lich’s phylactery. If it had extensive wards or guards, I might be in trouble. I was betting on the thing going for stealth over a good defense. Its brief time in my head gave me a few hints at its personality, and it felt more like the kind of thing that prided itself on outsmarting its enemies by being sneaky, and gloating about hiding things in plain sight. Considering how things had gone in the basement, I couldn’t be sure of anything. One could always hope, anyway.
You still don’t seem to understand your position, future vessel. Nothing you can do to me can cause permanent damage. It was still struggling against its bonds, and I could feel the stone prison weakening as we got closer. Destroy this body, and I will find a hundred more. Eventually, you will give in. Surrender yourself to me now, and save us both the time and trouble.
When we got to the lich, the fire burning in its eyes had died down to mere embers compared to the scorching flames I had seen before. The others formed up around me, keeping close so they could help one another as needed. I waved my hand over the center of the stone prison, allowing the mana there to pull away and expose the lich’s bony chest. I held up my mace and took a deep breath, gathering my power. I looked down at the lich and smiled.
“There’s something you should know about me, Sparky. Something you definitely didn’t account for.” The starmetal mace lit up a vibrant blue that clashed with the eldritch green light from its eyes. “I’m also a Paladin.” The embers of its eyes flashed, but it was too late to do anything. It had been too sure of its power over me, and its safety with its phylactery somewhere else, and it knew it. “Smite.”
I swung the mace down hard enough to shatter the skeleton like it was made of glass. Pieces of bone flew everywhere, and I watched as the skull bounced out of sight, the embers flickering out as it rolled away. I made sure to keep mana from the Paladin spell flowing into my mace as the lich was forced out of the vampire’s remains so I could still see the form of the lich as it coalesced in front of me.
The Smite spell was one of four I had received when I gained the Paladin Class, and it could banish or destroy all sorts of evil spirits, demons, devils, and so on. It had varying effects based on how strong they were. For something like a lich, it didn’t matter how powerful or ancient it was. The undead creature would be forced back into its phylactery for at least a short period of time to recover, which gave me a chance to kill it for good.
As I watched, the sickly green mist that was the lich swirled around the basement before shooting up the hole I had cut through the roof. Its essence left a trail that I could see like a streamer of neon in the dark of the basement. “This way!”
I ran for the opening, clearing out space for us with brute force provided by a second wind. The adrenaline rush of tracking down and killing the lich had banished the exhaustion that had been creeping up on me, making it possible for the others to keep up without getting bogged down. It also helped that the majority of the undead seemed to lose interest in us as we ran deeper into the basement. They were more focused on the noisier and flashier White Wardens, who were still getting mangled over by the stairs.
Cross and I helped Leedy and Murphy up to the next floor, where they immediately started fighting more undead. Cross jumped up to help them while I planted a knee so Jess could use it as a springboard and leap up herself.
After I jumped up, I saw the mess that Gleason and his men had made. They had walked straight into the ambush we’d avoided earlier, consisting mostly of super ghouls and a few elder vampires. Torn bodies were strewn everywhere, and I was shocked to see how many undead they had killed up here. Jess was standing next to me, looking as sick as I felt. “If we had come through one of those doors, it… we might not have made it.”
“No kidding.” I pulled her away from the hole, toward the wide open doors on the opposite side of the building. We only had to fight a single ghoul as we left the building. It had been trying to catch the horses staked outside by the White Wardens. Their lone guard left behind to protect them had been killed by the ghoul, and the undead had been wearing ruts in the grass as it ran in circles after the chargers that hadn’t managed to pull their staked-down ropes out of the ground. “You gather up our gear and pick the best horses. I’ll follow the trail and send up a signal if I need you.”
I didn’t wait for them to agree. Instead, I took off running. The trail led out into the forest behind the cheese factory, weaving between treetops like a single strand of the northern lights. It was fading fast, mostly because my own mana was running dangerously low. Concentrating on my breathing, I tried to bring in as much ambient mana as I could as I sprinted through the trees.
Somehow, the lich realized I was onto it. There was nothing it could do about refusing to return to its phylactery, but it could make sure that it threw in as many zigs and zags as possible before getting sucked back into its home like a third-rate genie getting pulled into a dusty-ass lamp. I was forced to juke my way through five or six briar and thorn patches before I changed up the dynamics of the situation.
Instead of running around and wearing myself out, I found the tallest tree in the area and quickly climbed it. I quickly realized the damned lich had been running me in circles around a small clearing in the forest. While the lich had the capability to delay its return, creating extra work for me as it did, the limitation was that the direction of travel had to always be a little bit closer toward its phylactery. It was too dark to see details, but I thought I could see a few boulders or possibly a stone hut in the center of the clearing. That had to be the place. I decided to take a chance and beat the lich there.
Jumping from one tree to the next, I made quick time over to the location. As I got closer, it was obvious my hopes of the lich leaving his phylactery undefended were misplaced. What I had seen from the tree was a ring of stones similar to a miniaturized stonehenge that had been carved with wards meant to keep everything–and I do mean everything–out. Not even grass was growing inside the ring. In the middle was a tiny stone hut no bigger than an outhouse.
Over my head, I saw the energy signature of the lich finally catch up. It shot straight into the outhouse, causing the single visible window to glow an angry green. The irony of the lich’s phylactery hiding inside a shitter wasn’t lost on me, but now wasn’t the time for laughter. I tried to push my way into the clearing, but it was like going up against an invisible brick wall.
Nothing happened as I tried to shove my way through the barrier with raw strength, marshaling all of my considerable physical stats. I strained–veins stuck out in stark relief against my arms and chest as I pushed against the barrier. I let out an explosive breath as I stopped trying to brute force my way in and changed tactics.
“Magic barrier, huh? Well, I got something special meant for things just like this. Annoying shield-thing, I’d like to introduce you to ancient elven engineering.”
I drew my sword and slashed horizontally in one smooth motion. The ninjato smashed against the barrier in a ripple of explosive light and sound. The energy of the blow created a backlash on my body, knocking me backward and nearly taking me off my feet. The barrier pulsed once in response but didn’t diminish in any noticeable way. This wasn’t working fast enough. By the time the mana-leaching properties of my sword brought down the shield, I’d be too late, and the lich would’ve escaped. I couldn’t let this bastard get away, but I was quickly running out of options.
A cold knot tightened in my stomach as I faced the possibility of failure, the knowledge that all of the sacrifices of our party and the many victims–the generations of undead we had seen in that basement–could be wiped away in front of this last obstacle. I was just so damned tired. Physically, yes, but in a much deeper sense that had been growing year by year, as I faced world after world without any reason, direction, or answers. Oh, I had answers alright. I’d learned more than I’d ever thought possible in these twenty years, but I had none of the answers that really mattered. Who did this to me? Why? What was the purpose of it all? Would I ever get my fucking life back? Would I ever get to taste root beer again? Was it my destiny to be a tool of the uncaring forces of the universe that had upended my entire existence? It would be so easy to toss in the towel. Say fuck it, and just go fishing or something.
Just then, a subtle sensation broke through the fog of despair and self-pity. One I had been experiencing ever since I drew closer to the house, only I had never stopped to truly examine it. It was a feeling I had only experienced once before, when the vampires had sent their velociraptor attack dogs against us. I finally made the connection. Whatever was powering this thing had some serious mojo, much more than a single lich should be able to gather on its own. In fact, it hadn’t done it on its own. I slid my sword smoothly back into its scabbard and stepped closer to the barrier, one hand reaching for its polished surface. Only this time, I reached into the barrier. A message popped into my vision.
Quest Update!
Unique Upgrade Quest: Find ten places of power - 2/10
-Absorb the power built up at the location to increase your level.
It was clear to me that the lich had somehow converted or parasitized the collected magic of this place of power’s energy well. I sucked in a deep breath as I considered the danger of what I was about to do. Books had been written about the folly of drawing in magic that had been tainted by the sentient will of another. Even after twenty years, there was so much out there about magic that I didn’t know it could fill libraries–literally–and this was certainly a subject I wish I had studied more. I also knew it didn’t matter.
I was going to do it anyway.
Putting both hands against the barrier and closing my eyes, I envisioned the wall as a white mist. I immediately thought of the energy blocking me like a battery that I could drain, making it easier to start pulling it into my body.
At first, it didn’t want to budge. Pulling free the first few wisps of power was like dragging heavy chains with my hands taped shut. When I finally got the first one to flow inside my body, it got a lot easier. In fact, it got too easy. Energy started to flood my body, and I was suddenly drinking from a fire hose.
You think you can steal my power? The hubris of those who think themselves strong is truly staggering. Your dirty tricks won’t save you now. I wanted you as a vessel, but after injuring me, I think I will have to use a different option. Let me show you what happens when true strength shows itself.
The lich somehow had control of the wards even from within its phylactery, and I was locked in place by the mana pouring into me. My only defense was to keep it from pooling inside my body and burning me up like a wooden pitcher trying to hold lava. Instead of trying to escape, I pushed my mind against the river of energy to try and force it to move. It felt impossible. The rush of power felt like a solid bar of metal burning its way deeper inside my body. For the briefest of moments I felt a flash of doubt, before I crushed it mercilessly. This pissface lich and his stupid boobytrap weren’t going to kill me. I doubled down on my focus, and shoved with all I had.
Blood sprayed from my nose as something inside my head gave way, but the energy finally swirled into motion. It lazily curled around my body, burning me on the inside, until it hit the mana generator in my center. The mana was pulled violently toward it, creating a whirlpool that felt like my organs were getting dragged into a black hole. Zero stars, do not recommend.
As more power poured into me, it scoured my body from the inside out. I was being scrubbed with dense flames, every part cleansed in a fire of agony. All of the energy that formed the dome of protection was moving toward me now, and I was forced to focus all of my attention inward. The mana compressed as it was pulled deeper, making me feel like an overstretched water balloon about to burst. Keeping myself from popping was both a physical and metaphysical struggle, centered around the whirlpool of my mana generator.
Finally, the generator couldn’t hold anymore. It had condensed down from liquid fire into a solid ball of marble laced with lightning that suddenly burst outward in a flash of thunder. I heaved uncontrollably, and foul black sludge poured from my mouth out of nowhere.
While I was trying to puke up the barrel of rancid crude oil I didn’t remember eating, the generator reformed. It looked almost exactly the same as it had before being turned into a solid rock, except now its interior walls were crystalline in nature. Almost like a blue geode, but filled with dense gaseous mana that was lit with the occasional streak of silent lightning. A less dense version of that same mana now filled the rest of my body, making me feel like an overtightened spring about to shoot loose and bounce around all over the place.
A series of dings accompanied a screen that popped in my vision, telling me I had accomplished another step of the quest.
Name: James Holden (Earth v7.2)
Title: Chief Justice/Arbiter/Justicar/Executioner/etc…
Level: 100/MAX
Rank: 2/10
Age: 27 (Physical) 47 (Actual)
Class: Warrior/Soldier/Knight/Paladin/Mage (5/5)
Profession: Healer/Alchemist/Blacksmith/Runesmith/Judge (5/5)
Status:
Strength- 65
Flexibility- 65
Vigor- 65
Mind- 65
Mission:
Mythical Quest: Deliver Justice - World Count 20/???
Legendary Quest: Return Home - Requirements not met
Epic Quest: Find out why - Requirements not met
Rare Quest: Track down Silver Star - Ongoing
Unique Upgrade Quest: Find ten places of power - 2/10
My stats had all grown by ten points this time, along with my version and rank increasing by one. It should have been a moment to celebrate, except for the projectile vomiting, of course. Jumping for joy and crushing the soul-home of the undead magic user would have been the logical next step, if I had been able to move. Once I was done involuntarily heaving, I realized I was frozen in place, still stuck as if I was reaching out to touch the invisible dome that I had already absorbed. I tried to drop my arms, take a step, cast a spell, do anything other than stand there and breathe, but I couldn’t. It seemed only my involuntary bodily functions were working. Something had paralyzed me.
I’m surprised you survived such an influx of power. The lich’s smug voice was more annoying than fear-inducing, but I could feel as I broke out in a cold sweat when my arms dropped to my side and I took a single step toward the hut on top of the hill without telling my body to do so. As surprising as you are, you still don’t understand many things. Such as what happens when you take power that is not your own, and fail to claim proper ownership of it. I took another step, almost falling forward onto my face. This isn’t the usual way I take control of a body, but I suppose it’s better than nothing.
Thinking furiously, I did everything I could to stop myself from haltingly making my way up the hill. I tried throwing myself backward, but there was no response. All I accomplished was giving myself a terrible headache. The power humming inside my body was controlling me like I was a puppet, and no matter what I did, the lich didn’t even seem to notice. It had said that I hadn’t claimed ownership of the power, but that wasn’t a real answer. Not that I could do anything about it now anyway. Even the mana generator inside me refused to react when I tried to manipulate it.
I had known what I was getting myself into when I absorbed the mana from the shield. However, knowing the danger and experiencing the reality of it were two completely different things. I tried to calm my racing thoughts and work through the problem. Tried, and failed. Panic was a flame in my chest as one attempt after another met with zero success. I was totally fucked. I knew it, and based on how the lich somehow managed to move my limbs with a smug sense of superiority, the lich knew it too.
Well, what should I do with you now? My body came to a stop in front of the hut, and my hand reached out to drag open the heavy stone door that held it closed. First, since you have wounded me, you shall help find a new home for my phylactery and guard it until I have healed. I will think upon your future while repairing the damage to my soul. That Paladin magic makes you unsuitable as a permanent vessel for me, but perhaps I can force you to take the step into immortality. You don’t have to be willing to participate in the Ceremony of Endless Night. He was talking about turning me into a lich. That would be bad.
When the door opened, I saw a small, ornate wooden table covered with runes. Around the edges were various pouches filled with uncut gems, thick gold and platinum coins, and what had to be different kinds of colorful swirling monster cores in more than just the undead variety. All in all, it was an absolute fortune that rivaled the treasuries of some city-states I had visited.
In the center of all that wealth and power was what I could only describe as a glass spray bottle. The old-fashioned kind with a squeeze ball my great-grandma kept around that used to hold perfume. The type that smelled like baby powder, before it had dried up sometime around the end of prohibition. Inside the perfume bottle, swirling green energy from the lich marked the out-of-place item as the phylactery. Somehow, despite the hold on me from the undead creature, I managed to snort in amusement.
What? You find something funny, mortal? Has your own impending doom caused your composure to shatter like your frail mind?
The lich relaxed control of my voice, and I took a moment to spit out the foul taste in my mouth before answering, noting with relief that the lich needed me to communicate verbally. While it had control over my body, it couldn’t read my mind. It was a small edge, but this bastard had me dead to rights. “No, it isn’t that. I was just wondering what cheap-ass antique dimestore dumpster you found that thing in. The last lich I killed had a really badass dagger crafted from the fang of an ancient viper and the skulls of his enemies or something respectable like that. But you? Nope. You go with a perfume bottle. I mean, seriously. Did you say to yourself, ‘self, baby powder and wrinkly old ladies are what really get me going, so let’s tie our soul to something that represents both of those things at the same time!’ Or was there some other process that made you decide on such a shitty home for all of eternity?”
As it turns out, the lich didn’t appreciate my sense of humor. They probably had no idea what I was talking about. I’m sure that the bottle was used on this world for something other than perfume, but they were very sensitive about it, regardless.
The lich ripped free my sword from its scabbard and stabbed me through the leg. Impressively, it avoided hitting anything important, like a major artery or bone. It still hurt like hell. The next time I let you speak, it would be good for you to remember that I can cut out your tongue anytime I feel the need. Now, time grows short. I’m sure your friends will be along soon, and I want to be in a secure location before they do. Without my agreement, the lich used my body to start stuffing his pouches of wealth into a black leather pack covered with protection and camouflaging runes that had been left under the table. The runes on the table sparked and sent jolts of electricity through my body as items were removed, but the lich was happy to let me suffer through the pain instead of taking the time to deactivate them.
My new Vigor stat of sixty-five meant my body could take the abuse. The real problem was the sword sticking out of my left thigh. The regenerative effects of Vigor tried to close the wound immediately, but the lich decided to leave the sword where it was, continually cutting and healing as I moved. Preoccupied as it was by the wealth of items on the table, the lich didn’t notice the blade on my ninjato glowing subtly as my blood dripped onto the floor. My magic eating sword.
Without letting on that the stolen mana inside me was diminishing, I tried to wiggle my toes. My big toe moved up and down twice, but only on the side where the sword was. Since the mana inside me was stagnant instead of flowing freely, the ninjato was affecting my left side faster than my right. My left hand was holding the bag, so I tried moving my fingers. They twitched, causing the lich to pause. It thankfully brushed off the involuntary movement and went back to what it was doing.
After a few minutes of carefully packing the leather pack and sealing it up tight, the lich went to reach for the phylactery. It was time for me to make my move. Somehow, I knew that if I touched it, the lich’s chances of winning the battle for control of my body would swing in its favor. Holding its center of power was a bad idea, especially when I was still filled with mana it somehow had control over. The runes protecting the perfume bottle were more stout, so it took the time to disarm them as it slowly held out my hand.
Almost done. I have a secondary location nearby, and once we use the blood of a sacrifice to contact the Des–
It was reaching with the right hand, so I used the bag in my left to swing at the spray bottle. The lich was so caught off guard that it didn’t even try to stop me. I smacked the phylactery off the table, where it clattered off the floor and bounced out of sight. I knew that the crystal or glass it was made out of was supernaturally reinforced by the lich’s soul, so the fall wouldn’t hurt it. The runes reacting to the phylactery getting disturbed sure as hell did, though. Hurt, I mean. Well, it hurt me at least.
My body was blown out of the tiny building by the explosion. All things considered, the explosion was pretty small compared to what it could have been if the lich hadn’t already been deactivating them. I landed a few yards away, rolling on the ground and shouting in pain as my sword was ripped from my leg, tearing open a huge wound that sprayed blood high into the air. Today was not a good day. Really, it was going in my top twenty of days that sucked the worst. Maybe top ten.
You think to defy me! Entire kingdoms have bowed to my greatness. For centuries, I was worshiped as a god! I’ve had enough of you, and your ridiculousness. My right hand clumsily flopped around before finding where the hilt of my mace was clipped to my belt. The lich repeatedly punched me in the huevos while trying to pull the weapon free. Definitely moving into the top ten category. You’ll die by your own hand!
The carabiner-style clip was confusing for the lich, which only bought me a brief moment to think of a way to keep me from splattering my own brains across the barren hilltop. The blessed starmetal mace was the most lethal of all my weapons, and I didn’t want to get into a pointless tug-of-war that only risked my own life. All it would take was one slip and I was dead, and at no point in that confrontation was the lich in any danger.
When the bad guy takes a hostage, you shoot the hostage.
Aiming my left hand at my right forearm, I fired the leftmost barrel of my wrist gun. Amazingly, I didn’t lose the hand. My new stats had toughened my body enough that I managed to only suffer a shattered radius and ulna, and lose a hefty chunk of meat in the process. Still, at such close range, it was a miracle it wasn’t blown off completely. By doing it to myself, I thought the shock of getting shot would be lessened. I was wrong.
What an interesting spell. I’ll have to explore that later. I groaned as I tried to pull myself back up the hill while still laying on my back. It was awkward, and lacked any good leverage. I also couldn’t heal myself, otherwise I would have to just shoot myself again. Slipping in my own blood, I didn’t stop. I kept inching my way back up the hill.
You’re determined, I’ll give you that. You know, I was rather intrigued by that slapping spell you cast on my avatar in the basement. What do you think of my version? The lich raised my injured arm and started slapping it across my face. It couldn’t kill me with force, so it seemed like the lich would do it with indignity, instead. Indignity or not, it certainly didn’t feel like getting hugged by a basket of kittens. Quit hitting yourself, quit hitting yourself.
“There is no James, only Zuul…” The lich didn’t get my joke, because it was an uncultured savage living in a world severely lacking in a proper entertainment industry. “I’m going to kill you like the bitch you are, lich.” The hut finally came into sight, and I found a fresh burst of energy. Getting to my feet was impossible, so I started crawling for the open doorway. I still couldn’t move my right side properly, but with my body using up the remaining mana inside me to heal all the damage, the lich was losing control. “You’re gonna be super dead. D-E-D dead, motherfucker.” It’s possible the blood loss was affecting me.
I finally got within arms reach of where the phylactery was lying on the ground, and managed to unclip my mace from my belt with my left hand. Instead of Smite, I prepared myself to cast the Paladin spell Cleanse. Since the lich was already suffering the effects of the former, the latter should finish it off. As the spell started to take shape, it fizzled out and I felt a stabbing pain in my head, renewing my bloody nose.
You don’t have the control necessary to cast another one of those Paladin spells with my claimed mana still flowing through you. I’ll tear you apart from the inside the moment you try to cast another ‘holy’ spell like that.
“Damn.” I lifted the heavy mace and slammed it down on the spray bottle with a dull thud. Neither the mace nor the phylactery seemed to have suffered any damage from my weakened blow.
Ha! You’re nothing. You’re too weak to break something that has been reinforced by my soul, even after you injured me. It’s a good thing I found a better vessel. I would have found you disappointing.
“So, you’re saying a physical blow could still break it. It doesn’t need to be magical.” I carefully clipped my mace back on my belt and scooted back a few feet, using the hut to shield most of my body from the phylactery. “I’m just not hitting your lame-ass perfume bottle hard enough.” Taking a brief moment to select a title I barely used, I activated it.
Title: Executioner
-End the lives of the guilty, so their presence can no longer sway the world.
Skill Imparted: Your next attack is 25% stronger. An additional 25% will be applied if the target is restrained. Can only be used on those who are deemed guilty. Useable once per day.
The power of the Executioner hummed through me. “You aren’t exactly the Necronomicon, but let me show you my Boomstick, asshole.”
Wait, no, I–
I lifted my wrist gun and fired first the middle barrel, then the top one, lining up both shots so they would hit at nearly the exact same spot, one barely above the other. I did it so fast that the two shots sounded more like one. The first round hit lower, causing microfractures to spread across the glowing green crystal and popping the bottle up in the air for a split second before the next round shattered it into oblivion. The resulting explosion was far larger than the little hut could contain, and it sent me on another trip down the hill, where I was stopped violently by my lower back cracking across one of the boundary stones.
I barely hung onto consciousness as pieces of burning hut and dirt rained down around me. I looked up just in time to see a familiar leather bag–a very heavy bag–descending straight for my face. “Son of a–”
The fucker did make it into the top ten after all. I closed my eyes, resigned to taking the hit.
A good nap was probably what I needed anyway.
