Scourge of Chaos: Savage Healer

The walls were filled with all sorts of notable people.

Sunday watched with wonder as carts rushed toward the city gates, uncaring if what they were carrying fell out. He saw people and undead with sacks trudging on, holding all they had managed to take from their homes in their arms. It was a sad sight. A terrible sight.

Part of him, however, felt excited.

Elora was next to him, mouth agape and eyes wide. The Baron had excused them easily and had even decided to accompany them. He had said that there hadn’t been a good siege upon the city in a millennium, so he was excited to see it through.

Sunday didn’t like the fact that he was virtually surrounded by vampire lords, and the Baron was there too. It made him feel almost like a prisoner. A few magi, he was sure the old Adept lady was one of them despite the strange armor she had donned, threw hateful gazes toward the vampires, but no one approached. So much for that.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen so soon, the Arcanum—,” Elora whispered.

“The Arcanum, my fair lady, are a bunch of fools who rely on their stockpiles of knowledge and spells to remain relevant,” Oswald said next to them. Of all the vampires Sunday had met, this one worried him most second only to the Baron. “What we have in Blumwin is a pale imitation of the true thing, of course. While the building itself is left by predecessors much too strong and wise to remain in this place, the current Adepts are but fools who are unable to progress, so they seek power in different places. Such as attempting to monopolize one of the strangest and most dangerous things in our world.”

“And what’s that?” he asked, not breaking contact with the panicked crowds. The guards were struggling to keep everything in order. There were quite a few of them.

He saw dark shadows on the rooftops too, gathering slowly. Ghouls? Against a ghoul horde? He hoped the one in charge of them knew what he was doing, or else… the city was already breached.

“You, my dear friend,” Oswald said.

He leaned in further, almost embracing Sunday. “Blind fools will try to manipulate you. Blind fools will try to bribe you. The Baron will be generous beyond your wildest imagination if you give him what he wants, but if you agree he will make sure you follow through. We, as nobles, have ways to make that certain. And one such as you cannot allow themselves to be bound. Remember that.”

What the fuck is this creep on about? Is he warning me against his own creator? Sunday’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be, could it? He had the means to do something like that. The vial was kept securely on his person at all times. Inferni blood from little Pearl. It was said it could create a binding contract facilitated by the devil’s blood. Was that the aim of the Baron? To bind Sunday like a dog, and make sure he delivered on whatever promises he made.

“Are you cozying up with the scum, Oswald?” A voice asked.

Rubien. Of course.

“Hey, Ruby. Do you like my cloak?” Sunday asked.

Rubien’s eyes scanned it, stopping on the multitude of pockets now added to the fine, velvety material. His eyelid twitched, and Sunday was sure he could feel a sense of heavy bloodlust.

“Skipped breakfast?” Sunday teased.

Elora clutched at his arm. Right. She was not used to being among the oldest and most powerful predators of humankind. And especially not with someone who antagonized them with every step.

“What have you done to my cloak, imbecile?”

“He obviously made it better. Come on, Rubien, don’t act like you have any sense of fashion whatsoever. Blood will run dry before you dress with any style.”

A female vampire lord added from the side. She was too pretty— like poisonous things were pretty, using vivid colors to draw their prey. All of the vampires were quite attractive, apart from the Baron, strangely. Weren’t they of his blood?

“I should just kill you both. The Baron will understand,” Rubien barked. Sunday ignored him.

He felt something. A wave of darkness coming toward the city. The ghoul horde? Why could he feel them so? He turned just in time to see the Baron wave a hand. Vampires moved like dark streaks as they went for the ghouls on the rooftops. There were not that many.

“What are you doing?!” Someone screamed.

There was another sound from deep within the city and the ghouls started fleeing. Those who had yet to be slaughtered by the lords and their servants anyway. The vampires were few in comparison to the city guard or the members of the Arcanum, but they were much scarier too.

It lasted only moments before most of the lords were back. Oswald hadn’t even left, and whoever it was that had raged, remained silent.

“That was smart, I think,” Sunday said.

“There are more deep inside Blumwin. If they fall under the control of what’s coming, then this will be difficult.” Oswald said. “A ghoul king is a thing of legend.”

Ghoul King? Shit. It can’t be, can it? I stabbed him dead. He wondered if the folk from the Wayward Rat were safe. Mera would probably help from the shadows, unwilling to appear before the general populace of the city.

He felt the sensation grow stronger, and moments later he saw them on the horizon. Ghouls, like an army of ants in the distance. They were marching slowly as if someone had forced them to keep order. Most of the fleeing people had already entered the city, but many were still at the gates. He looked around and saw ghouls come from all directions.

All he could think of was the smell, for some reason.

Elora gripped his hand harder.

“Relax,” he said. “You won’t have to go down there. I saw a few Adepts around. They and the Baron will surely be enough.” It’s an opportunity to see what they can do… There are so many ghouls though.

He suddenly got a crazy idea.

“Hey, Oswald?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you remember when I kind of made moths come out of something you called the red moon, and then they made me mad while I kicked Rubien’s ass all over the place?”

There was a hiss from the other side, and a few chuckles from the lords.

“How can I forget?”

“Do you want me to do the same to you when the ghouls come? See what happens?”

Oswald turned to him. There was something in his calculating dark eyes. Something Sunday didn’t like. However, this was for science! There was probably a connection between the Berserk Moon and the vamps, and learning what it is was paramount in understanding the spell itself.

Also, it would be cool, so why not?

“It will be an honor, Sunday.” The lord bowed formally.

The nerves of those around were almost infectious. There were more magi than Sunday had ever imagined on the length of the walls and he could see similar numbers all around. There were probably many on both sides of the city too.

Could ghouls swim? Come from the lake? No, that was probably not a thing or someone would’ve prepared.

The first few spells went off soon enough. Long-ranged fireballs that flew for so long it looked almost impossible. There was no curvature to them, just a straight-line flight that resulted in a small fiery explosion.

The Arcanum had started the fight.

***

Jishu walked out of the swamp for the first time in many years.

He could feel it all through his slaves. Through his ghouls. His army.

The world was unraveling before him, and this weak and forgotten region was but a step in the way of his new ascendancy. The stump of the lost arm thumped, but he paid it no mind. The soul damage was already healed—a strangely fast process. Perhaps another boon from his connection to Sunday. In comparison flesh was but a vessel he could fix in time.

He was a ghoul king now, and no other will could compete for the control he exuded upon the darkest creatures of the night. Ghouls were like the rats of the undead, but they were far more deadly—especially the few plague ghouls he had found deep in the caves of the mountains.

It was time to march and see what he would achieve. He was not worried for his safety. No one would have the time to seek him out in the middle of all the mayhem. Perhaps a stronger vampire? He had his new spell-fused for that.

He had started not because he was fully prepared, but because the attack of the strange dark hound had left him worried there would be more. He had only a few spells at his disposal, and he needed to keep his soul-space ready for when he reclaimed his Life and Death Moths.

The spell that was stolen from him.

The spell that he could now use to its full potential. Sunday would surely suffer for his insolence, but not too much. He had, after all, changed Jishu’s life for the better. The new body, the recovered soul, the easier practice of the arts, and most importantly, his improved control over his lesser. It was marvelous.

Thousands of his ghouls were swarming toward the city. Many would die. Most. It didn’t matter. Even in a place like this, there were bound to be monsters. He was sure no great house or clan would have representatives stationed in the city, so he was not that worried. At best, they would have a single rank-four mage, which wouldn’t be enough to last against the tidal wave he had prepared.

Maybe some vampires? They would be an issue. Vampires were pesky annoying things that liked to scheme and rip throats, oftentimes not in that order. They were a true counter to his army.

Ghouls were physical beings, relying on their bodies and relentless stamina, and humans and regular undead couldn’t oppose them in that aspect. That’s why no matter how destructive the power of a mighty rank four mage was, they would eventually make a mistake or run out of essence.

Vampires didn’t tire. Vampires didn’t die. He knew there were some in Blumwin, but angering them was not on his agenda.

He stroked the hair of the little devil girl next to him with his one hand. She pulled away, but the chain wrapped around his waist and her torso didn’t let her go far. A circle of ghouls stood around them too, preventing any trickery.

And the few successful spell-fused he had created were behind him, carrying their slave marks with anguish and sorrow. Arten was among them, the fool. He had tried it all on his own… fusing with a light spell? Such a weak one… it had worked, but only given him the strength of a rank three. Pity the four others were even weaker.

Their minds still rebelled, but Jishu’s enslavement art was too strong, and the fear of him hurting Pearl only added to the control.

“Tell me, little girl,” Jishu smiled. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Pearl didn’t speak, only smirked away a tear. He had wanted to work on her slowly, earn her trust, and make her the last cast of his most sacred spell. However, there was no time for that. The hounds worried him. And his instincts told him that they were not the only thing he had to worry about.

“There’s only power in this world. If I’m strong, then what I do doesn’t make me bad. If I’m weak, and someone stronger says I’m bad, then I’m bad. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

He liked talking to her. Eventually, she would crack. She would adopt some of his words as teachings. She would relate.

“The world is a cruel place, and while you may think me a monster, you would’ve done the same in my place. Survival is the most important thing, little devil girl. And I plan on living till the end of this world.”

He closed his eyes and a pulse of power spread out of him. It felt exquisite to control so many ghouls with but a thought. So much power. If he made it back to the heartlands, then he could raise hundreds of thousands and raze cities.

Jishu laughed with glee. “Do you think—”

The wind froze for a brief unforgiving moment. The ghouls deflated and fell in the grass and earth, trying to make themselves small. There were a thousand of them around, kept as a personal guard, while the rest assaulted the city. The strongest. Different sub-species, with different characteristics and strengths.

Savage beasts that killed their prey and let it rot before feasting.

They were death incarnate.

Heralds of suffering.

And they whimpered like crying puppies.

Then came a voice. It was aggressively feminine and somewhat ethereal.

“Oy, creep. Are you the motherfucking chosen? I swear if I beat all this way for a fucking one-armed ghoul, I’ll skin your soul, ball it up, and shove it up a ghoul's ass. And what are you doing with this kid?”