Demonic Magician

The confusion had briefly allowed me to panic, right before the colder side of me closed the hatches and nailed them shut. Questions still remained, but I calmed. Was this a ruse by the camp, and they were planning on finishing us off in the night? Had the remnants of the marketeers come back for vengeance? Somehow it felt more likely that the answer was the simplest one.

Crimson Shadow.

We had both burst from the covers and switched to our Equipment, weapons drawn. I took the lead and pushed out of the tent first, emerging beside the growling bear. It was dark out still, aside from the blooming lights of skills and roving lanterns that had been turned up.

My eyes struggled to adjust, and I pressed a hand against the bear as Ren came out beside me. “Report.”

“Smells like death,” he growled. “Rotten death.”

I turned a glance toward the elf. “Zombies.”

There was fighting and yelling coming from the entrance to the camp. One of the voices was definitely Fiona. From our right, a figure stumbled toward us - the bright yellow giving away that it was Quinn and not a walking corpse.

“From one nightmare to another,” he said with a grimace. He looked pale and rather panicked. His Trauma icon was gone now, which meant it was early morning and he had recovered. “There’s fighting at the gates, shall we assist?”

My brow furrowed. The question was him deferring to my leadership, rather than supposing that the alternative was that we didn’t help. I turned to Ren, as she seemed hesitant.

There was a brief glow around her head, a faint radiant gold we could only pick up due to being in near darkness. She looked up at me and shook her head. “There’s more… I can sense them. Through the woods to the West.”

I have no reason not to believe her entirely. Part of her Class was holy-adjacent, and while she hadn’t mentioned anti-undead abilities, it made sense if something was making the connection. They intended to flank the camp after everyone had been drawn to the entrance. Surround us.

“We’ll hold this west side. There’s a small clearing before the trees.” We were already reasonably close to that part of the camp, which made me wonder if the attack was intending to catch us. Despite the looming trouble and unknowns out in the darkness, I still felt remarkably calm.

We demolished a couple of empty tents to give us more room. Ren to my left, Quinn to my right, with Wolf just in front of us.

Our attacks ready, we stood tense, eyes trying to adjust to the darkened woods. And then - movement.

“I can see them. Zombies, at least a dozen.” Ren said as she calmed her breathing.

Small orbs of dim yellow started to appear amongst the shadowed shapes. Their glowing eyes were now visible as they drew closer. I put my hand on the back of Wolf.

“Stay with us, friend. They might want to try to draw you into the woods. Here, together, we have safety.” His response was nothing but a grunt.

The elf turned her glance to me briefly. “You ready for the show, Max?”

I licked my lips and gave her a quick nod. But despite being prepared as best as I could be, the next part of the act was beyond anything I could have imagined.

“Only fools hide in darkness,” Quinn murmured. “Let us see the strength of their convictions.” He held out his hand and a spark of amber shot forth. As soon as it reached the treeline, it bloomed into a bright light, persisting over the area and illuminating the woods.

For a brief moment, it felt like show lights, giving me false warmth. Our stage was bright and unavoidable. The crowd was a little more lifeless than usual, and unlikely to be dazzled, but we worked with what we had.

Quinn gave me a pat on the shoulder. “We’re right behind you.” I could feel the glow of energy as he buffed me. An increase in mana capacity and regeneration. Elation filled me.

Wolf took a deep breath in and then roared. Louder than I’d ever heard him vocalize, I was surprised that I didn’t receive any negative effect from the volume. I saw icons pop up over the approaching zombies as they stood and wavered. Dazed, it said.

Beside me, Ren cleared her throat. “Corpses and cadavers! Introducing, in a special late night showing, the one and only Max the Great!” She flourished her hand toward me, her recently acquired damage buff flooding through me. As her eyes met mine, I could see that her face was flush.

It was almost too much for me. I raised my hands up as a purple card split, so it appeared as though I held one in each hand. Shame to waste such an introduction on mindless undead, but any crowd was worth the practice. No tricks tonight, only survival.

I flung both cards out and zipped them through the trees. On my attack, Ren pegged one with an entangling arrow, holding them all in place. Quinn had drawn a crossbow, which he fired before winding a crank to reload it. I kept my cards powered and danced them like a conductor, weaving throughout the walking corpses.

“Keep an eye on backstage,” I instructed Quinn. Although his manner of flair was different from mine, he had settled into a role rather easily.

An Imp+ would be a poor choice, as we didn’t want to set fire to the forest. Hellhound+ might be okay, but without knowing how zombies functioned in this world, I didn’t want to risk one. Roger wouldn’t work in a reanimated corpse, even if it died again. The System was keen to tell me this even as I continued my assault.

No matter. Most things died from enough brain injury whether the trope was true here or not. My cards spun in figures of eight, slashing through necks and into temples. Occasionally I’d only hit a shoulder or chest, but with Ren getting headshots, we made quick work of the attempted flank.

“Ten down, six to eight remain,” she confirmed.

Quinn went up on tiptoes to try to see further. “Front gate looks managed. There may have been more that way.”

“Any sign of a ringleader?” I asked, smashing through the skulls of two more of the undead.

Wolf wasn’t too anxious to get into the fray now that he had seen them. The rotten flesh and loosely put-together bodies didn’t seem quite up to his standard - not that I’d allow it either. The last thing we needed was the bear becoming infected with something, or turning into a zombie himself. A softer expectation that he might just throw up the undead parts was equally appalling.

“Nothing I can see,” he replied. He turned to face the east side of the camp. “Forgive my eye. Perhaps Ren can see better… but eastward.”

The elf planted another arrow into the skull of a zombie before turning to allow me to conclude this section of the performance. I could see her glaring that way out of the corner of my eye. “Fuck, I think there’s more.”

Into my hand, a large glass bottle of water. “Radiant.” I handed it to her, and she whispered a word in elven, causing a golden glow to filter over it. We were bending the rules a little here, but the System was sloppy about such things. Back in my hand, I turned to her, my purple card cutting down the last zombie on our side. “Call it.”

Her blue eyes narrowed up into the air. “…now.”

Then I was gone, switched places with the hell-bird Ren had been watching. Away from the light and into the darkness. Away from the soft ground and into the cold air that whipped through my suit. Away from my stage and over the fresh audience. I threw the bottle down as a group of yellow eyes looked back up at me. Then, just as I had left, I returned to the safety of my Party.

Quinn whistled as he observed my act. Dazzle icons, which seemed more of a pleasant formality than anything useful at present.

“Can you move the light?” I asked, fingers flexing and ready to bring out more cards.

With a quick nod, he gestured to the orb of amber illumination and moved down as if it was on a string to follow over us. We then stalked across the campground, amongst the tents towards the other side where they had tried to pin us in. A large amount of zombies. I wondered if the attacks were usually this aggressive.

“We should warn the others,” Ren mentioned, her eyes going up to where figures were fighting more undead.

“Allow me, I can cast my voice.” Quinn cupped at his mouth. “More undead, east of camp, Max and Co engaging.”

Even from here, I could see the slightly confused looks on a couple of the figures as they tried to seek the source of the voice. It looked like Ruby was at the back, and she waved an acknowledgement at them.

Our orb of light illuminated a group of melted zombies that our loose approximation of holy water had hit. There were still a handful or two, but between us we made short work of the slow shambling corpses. The last one fell in no time at all, and an odd silence then fell over the camp. The crackle of a fire near the north entrance, and the wail of someone in pain. We watched the south of camp… but nothing came.

Quietly confident that the attack was over, we took a deep breath and relented to going up to the gate to check on the rest.

“Very impressive,” I noted to Ren.

“Hmm? Oh.” She pulled a face and looked away. “Not sure where that came from, really. But you thought it was okay?”

“How do you feel about constructive criticism?” I smiled.

She turned back to me with a slight scowl. “How do you feel about a knife between your ribs in your sleep?” Her expression softened. “Go on then.”

“I did like ‘Max the Great’, but alliteration can work wonders - but that is to say - I’m not tied to any stage name at present.”

“So like… Max the Misguided, or Mild Max?”

“Point taken.”

Any barbs we were playfully clashing soon melted away at the sight of the northern gate.

In one chair, Clive sat, head lolled to the side. Three arrows with purple feathered ends protruded from his chest. Likewise, on the ground, the elven man lay, blood pooled from his head.

Fiona was sweaty and stressed, her weapon caked with gore. Magnus was the same way, resting up against some of the crates, while Ruby rubbed healing goop on his wounds.

“I’m too… I can’t even be angry,” the fighter said, still out of breath. “As much as it is like me to lash out, I know that without you here, we would have been overrun. You fought groups in the east and west?”

I nodded.

“It’s usually just a medium group at the front.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “No rangers to pick off the watch. No flanking tactics. This was meant to wipe us out.”

I crouched down by the elven man. “Arrow too?”

Ruby stepped in. “No, some kind of magic. He wasn’t… dead when we got here. But there was nothing I could do.” For the first time since meeting her, the goblin looked sad and withdrawn.

Not entirely knowing why, I placed my hand on the back of the body’s head. Something… something felt odd. A chill ran through me and my brow furrowed. “Did you know Rolo was a demon?”

Fiona shook her head. “He kept covered up. We knew he was different, but not… a demon.”

“Do you know of any other demons?” My hand was shaking. The magic used had a familiarity to it. I should know, of all people. It had left a residue around the impact site that I could almost feel tangibly, and I hated it. So. Much. “Ren, come here.” The words came out more of an abrupt command than I was intending.

She kneeled down beside me and looked me in the eyes. Hers were concerned, and I could see the glimmer of purple reflected at the back of her blues. Not much needed to be said after that, but she turned to the corpse and put her hand on his head. Brow furrowed. She nodded her head slowly as she looked back at me.

“You want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing?” Fiona grunted. “Getting doe eyed over the corpse of my friend is not a good look.”

I stood and lent a hand to help Ren up. The cold sank away as I moved further from the body. “He was killed by demonic magic.”

The fighter’s eye twitch and it looked as though she might have a sarcastic comeback for that, but instead, she just nodded.

“Any of you injured?” Ruby asked, a bottle in her hand already.

We gave her the negative. Wolf huffed. “Didn’t even get to do anything.” His eyes were affixed to the lion-man once more, and strangely enough, so was Quinn’s.

“It was probably the best introduction I’ve ever had,” I placed my hand on his back. “All of you did well.”

“It was a pleasure to serve.” Quinn turned and gave me a brief bow.

Either it was my tired mind trying to catch up to reality, or it was rather suspicious that Quinn’s abilities seemed to fit in to the group. At least, his utility skills were very useful. Then again, without seeing him in actual combat, we couldn’t truly know how he’d fit in with us. He might even be more of a support Class than his title alluded to.

I furrowed my brow, taking a break from stroking our own egos, realizing there was an elephant in the room. “Where’s the other group?”

Fiona shook her head. “Fuck if I know. We saw them head down for the night. We’ll check tents before we… I don’t know. Fuck’s sake.”

With a scowl, I looked out to the campground. I had seen people sitting at the back after my shower. Where did they go? And why?

It made me irrationally angry, something unlike me. We had found a small enclave of relatively normal Players who had avoided the corruption of the Crimson Shadow. Sure, they were ineffective, but they were troubled individuals with faults. Now they had been attacked, with one group leaving earlier in the day, and now the second after nightfall. It didn’t add up, and it made me sick to try to work my head around.

I turned back around to see everyone had been looking at me. For what? Had I sprouted horns or been laughing maniacally?

No.

Magnus was wounded, and Ruby was gloomy. Fiona was exhausted and overwhelmed. Her eyes still held some ire for me, but now there was something else even stronger I could read in between the lines.

She was begging me for help.