Disclaimer at start of First Chapter but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content.
So let me preface this with a quick apology and several announcements.
First and foremost, I apologise for the shorter chapter length, but I have been feeling really unwell these last few days, which has made writing a bitch. I struggled to write this bit. I'm still feeling a little under the weather atm, so the next chapter update will be pushed back a week sadly (to 5th February 2021). Sorry.
In regards to future updates after 5th February, sadly Uni is coming back, and between that, renovations and other commitments, my time available to write will be going downhill, meaning updates will become slower :/
I'll see how things go and I'll let you know more on the next update on the 5th, but the weekly update could very well be gone by that point, not that it has been exactly followed for the last little while 0_0
I am increasing the story rating from T to M on the 12th of February as well. This story is at the point where the violence, gore and profanity is not safe, even for my greedy bastard marketing purposes. I only really kept it at T mostly just for any original followers of mine to more easily find initially since my main account was unavailable. If you are interested in still reading it after the 12th of February and you can't still find it, remember to adjust your filters to All Ratings to include the M tag.
Speaking of my original account, I finally have got access to it. If you see two versions of this story, then rest assured you are reading the correct one. I have just placed an update note on my original version to say it has been replaced. I will be deleting the original version in a month's time and keeping this new rewritten version up to replace it.
To RpgNot: Thank you!
To MprevilO: Challenge accepted. But seriously, you make an excellent point! Bringing firearms and related technology, especially this early into the story, will only set up literary and story disaster and disappointment for later. Sure, it would be probably entertaining for a few fleeting chapters, but the novelty would wear off quickly and the story would devolve into a boring nightmare. I like eventual payoff, and while like you said it will be challenging to pull off, I have several literary and plot plans in place to make the story so much more than just a simple gunfest. It would be entertaining though? While I encourage you to have some faith in your dear author my beloved reader, you are totally right to express any thoughts and concerns ;) Hopefully I've assuaged them, but actions speak louder than words, so hopefully the story can still live up to your expectation. And that is a fascinating idea you have mentioned with Sygil's guns. Maybe, maybe...
Suggested Age Rating: M
- Explicit bloody violence and gore
- Strong language
Chapter 14: Rise of the Phoenix
Sygil stared at the smouldering ruins of his base, fuming.
The entire town was in disarray. The perimeter walls had been reduced to rubble on the north, east and western flanks.
Many of the buildings had been reduced to mere rubble, with the wooden supports and floors burnt down to ash.
The remains of brick walls stood in some parts, connected to what was left of various floors, most of which had collapsed.
Corpses stretched as far as the eye could see, numbering in the thousands.
They decorated the fields, their blood staining the ground crimson. They lay strewn throughout the town, their blood and entrails doing little to distract from the destruction wrought.
For the most part, the corpses in the town were much more distinguishable, at worst lacking a head or limb.
The fields were much worse. The barrage of explosives and the hounds had ground the soldiers into paste and gristle, with bodies shredded, spraying streaks of chunky flesh everywhere.
Limbs were almost impossible to distinguish, and the bodies looked like canned tomatoes thrown haplessly, with shredded clothing and armour stained crimson with drying blood being the only reminder that there was once a soul inside the carcasses.
Fires could be seen scattered everywhere, with the worst on the hill behind him. What hadn't been destroyed by the catapaults had most certainly been burnt down by the flaming arrows.
Sygil felt himself inhale deeply in an attempt to calm himself and clear his stormy thoughts.
This… is a major setback. All thanks to you, Clair.
Judging by the number done to his base, he could only imagine the losses his forces incurred.
Standing up, he dusted as much of the dirt from his suit as he could, feeling the drying blood caked throughout his clothes harden and crumble like dried paint.
He had sat on the hill top for about half an hour to grant his subordinates time to get a damage report as well as organise the survivors.
Now, it was time to face the music.
Approaching the rubble that once was his front gate, the stench of death, identifiable by the leaking of bodily wastes and blood, seemed to intensify.
There hadn't been enough time to even get the place cleaned up, with priority instead being focused on extinguishing any major fires that threatened to burn down the rest of the town. Fortunately, that wasn't the case, but pockets of flame lay scattered throughout the town.
He clenched his gloved fists as he stepped over rubble and corpses alike, making his way to the mansion, or rather, what would be left of it.
He had dematerialised his weapons, however, he let his hounds continue to roam the perimeter, acting as defence and scouts alike to warn and ward off any further attackers.
Sygil doubted that would be the case, but opportunists might see the smoke and come to investigate.
There was no denying the facts; his base was left wide open and vulnerable to another attack.
No sense delving into what-ifs. It is what it is now.
Still, it didn't mean he had to be happy with things now. And he most certainly was NOT happy.
As he walked down the bloodied main street, he could make out the roof his mansion over the remains of the other buildings.
The roof was caved in and missing sections, with traces of dying smoke wafting from within. It wasn't billowing out, per se, reassuring him that there wasn't a raging fire, but then again, there could be for all he knew. His only assurance was that his subordinates would have hopefully extinguished any threatening fires.
The only dangerous fire remaining was the one burning inside him as he surveyed the damage.
Walking around the bend in the street, he was greeted by the sight of approximately twenty individuals gathered around the front door of his mansion.
The fountain immediately before him had been smashed by a flaming boulder, with the water that had leaked out diluting the nearby blood to a more pale pink hue.
As he stalked towards the mansion, he could see most the people gathered were sitting down in small groups, with a couple individuals standing tall over them.
As he got closer, an individual noticed his presence and began to approach him.
Upon closer observation, Sygil realised it was Quantum.
"What the hell happened to you?" Exclaimed Sygil, taking note of Quantum's missing left arm, cracked eyepiece and otherwise charred body. Much of the metal on his left side was warped, with protruding mechanical pieces and otherwise damaged metal showing. That didn't appear to slow down the automaton one bit, who strode up to Sygil quickly.
"I sustained some damage when the laboratory exploded, master."
So it was indeed the laboratory that exploded. Just shit.
Sygil sighed tiredly, running a hand through his hair.
"Will you be able to function still?"
"Once I repair myself, I can begin work on restoring the base. Though, with the damage sustained, that will take a considerable time."
Sygil had a feeling Quantum was referring to not just the damage he had personally sustained, but the base and workforce as a total.
"Do you have a report on everything?"
"Indeed, master. It's… not promising," he trailed off uncertainly.
Sygil almost found it amusing that the otherwise indifferent machine could replicate emotions with his already damaged vocoder.
"Well, we're not getting any younger. Let's hear it then."
Quantum began rattling off everything as they both slowly walked to mansion, stopping a short distance from everyone.
"For starters, our forces numbers have been significantly reduced. Of the 42 Demihumans and 20 mercenaries initially, only eight demihumans, including their commander Trisha, have survived. Only four mercenaries, including their commander Alizia Grenevaulch have survived. Our entire workforce for labour purposes has been decimated, with all 183 villagers killed."
Shit. That isn't promising at all.
There was more, however, as Quantum continued.
"The barracks has been destroyed, as well as the reconverted workshops in the main street. The mines suffered a cave-in during the attack, and only one of my drones survived. The wall has suffered numerous breaches alongside the west and east, with the entire northern wall destroyed. Only the southern wall and gate remain undamaged."
Great. Totally vulnerable and exposed now.
"Nearly all of the homes are destroyed, with the mansion taking the least damage. But, as you can see, it was still impacted by the assault."
Sygil looked at the smashed windows, chipped wood, cracked bricks, and caved in upper roof. There was a hole on the outer left wall, with part of a smoking boulder still buried half in it.
"The laboratory was destroyed when the gunpowder I was bottling ignited."
"Wait, ignited? How did that happen?"
"An enemy flaming arrow managed to land on the gunpowder, triggering its premature combustion. The resultant explosion took half of the floor with it, collapsed the roof and damaged enough of the structural supports that the building collapsed. The explosion also damaged my left side, which was directly exposed to the explosion."
"And what about Miss Grenevaulch? Where was she? She didn't return to me with the other men carrying the bombs."
"She was with me when the gunpowder detonated, master. She survived, and is with the other meatbags."
"Curious, isn't it?"
"Could you please elaborate master?"
Sygil raised an eyebrow at Quantum.
"It's curious that wherever she was involved, we suffered problems. The southern gate was overwhelmed almost instantly. She was in charge of that. Then, the laboratory was destroyed. The gunpowder ignited because of a stray arrow? I have my doubts. But where was she when that happened?"
"She was with me, master."
"Precisely. One time's an anomaly, two's a trend."
"Perhaps you are being paranoid? We just suffered a major incursion. Perhaps…"
"Perhaps nothing, Quantum. Betrayal is par the course, especially when dealing with mercenaries. But," he shrugged nonchalantly, deciding to continue walking towards the gathering, "perhaps I am mistaken. After all, coincidences tend to happen. Tell me. Is there anything salvageable from the laboratory?"
"Negative sir. All of the gunpowder detonated. All of the synthetic chemicals were ignited, and all of your apothecary supplies burnt down."
Sygil could feel his anger begin to swell with each passing word.
"Everything was lost in the attack."
It took all of his willpower not to scream in outrage. Instead, he clenched his fists so tightly that the leather in his gloves was borderline ready to tear. A vehement hiss escaped his tightened lips.
Sygil glanced at the individuals scattered before him.
Maxmillian and Hans were standing watch over the six new captive prisoners, their helmets removed and their hands clasping the back of their heads. They were plastered in blood, stripped of their weapons and dignity.
Resting not too far beside them were the three remaining mercenaries, with Alizia standing in front Beovhan and Clair, watching them. She was covered in nicks, cuts and bruises, her helmet forsaken to let her long hair flow more freely.
And finally, Trisha and the remaining demihumans were slouched up against the bushes and walls, exhausted from the battle. They were covered in their fair share of wounds, but nothing too severe to warrant immediate medical attention. Trisha and an elderly demihuman woman, the same one that had questioned him several weeks prior, were the only two standing, conversing lightly.
"This is all that's left?" Sygil's nonplussed tone killed the faint muttering and redirected everybody's attention.
Trisha almost looked like she wanted to shoot him a filthy look, but was too tired to. Everyone else looked a mixture of confused, nervous, or miffed.
Sygil closed his eyes as he exhaled slowly, before resting his gaze upon Clair and Beovhan.
"My, my, Clair. You really did a number on me. I was wrong to underestimate you. I'll give you that."
"Wh-what are you talking about?" Clair's timid voice rang out.
She was filthy, as was Beovhan.
"Oh, well the attack of course," began Sygil calmly.
"Now, I don't know what you were hoping to accomplish, but I'll give credit where credit is due. I have been set back tremendously."
The atmosphere seemed to become cold and tense, with everyone hanging onto the words dripping from Sygil's mouth.
"Now, you're probably wondering why I'm not angry, right now. That is because I am not."
Sygil's suddenly jovial exclamation caught everyone by surprise, but the next words were spoken with such vehement venom that any hope withered and died right then and there.
"I am absolutely furious," he seethed.
Sygil stared at the semi-circle of people before him, and approached the far left where the new prisoners were.
His pacing was slow, but deliberate. Ominous even. With every step, his rage became more evident.
"All of my hard work… gone." He snapped his fingers sharply.
"Just like that. Three weeks to build this up, and in the span of not even three… fucking… hours…. It's gone."
Some of the prisoners he strode by began to tremble, his cold eyes boring mercilessly into their souls.
"My base is ruins. Destroyed by an Army, not of bandits, but soldiers. Soldiers sent by the late Baron Joyce."
He drew out each word, gauging everyone's reactions as he walked by them.
"My mine is destroyed. So production has been set back. My miners… are dead. My builders are dead."
By now, he was in front of the three mercenaries, who were all too eager to avoid his gaze, shuffling uncomfortably.
"My smiths, are dead, my farmers, are dead." He listed casually, tapping out a finger with each group he listed.
"My whole workforce… is dead. Slaughtered by the Re-Estize Kingdom's army, under the employ of some noble. A noble, who was sent here for a reason."
He scanned the crowd, as if searching for someone or something.
"My army is now in ruins, with not even a handful of mercenaries left, and only a few other warriors."
Sygil felt a frown mar his face.
"My barracks are destroyed. My wall is destroyed. My whole fucking compound lays in ruins, exposed to the next opportunist to come along and try and plunder from. My fields are razed, and my laboratory is a smoking. Fucking. Hole now."
All throughout his tirade, Sygil did not raise his voice. And that, perhaps, was what unsettled most of the people present.
By now, he was standing in front of Clair and Beovhan.
"But perhaps, the most infuriating aspect of this whole debacle… is not the ruined base, no. Nor is it the complete slaughter of my people now. No, it's that you have set me back a tremendous deal with my advancements."
Sygil barely restrained his shaking in anger.
"All of my apothecary supplies. Burnt to ashes. New chemicals to produce new technological innovations… gone. Quantum had his fucking left arm blown off for Christ's sake!"
He gestured angrily to the automaton, his voice finally raising.
"And an army? Just happened to be wandering through the area and decided, 'hey let's just do a raid for no apparent fucking reason?!' I. Doubt it."
Sygil leaned down towards Clair, sneering as he growled out.
"I have been set back… a tremendous amount."
Standing up in exasperation, he continued to pace in front of the demihumans now.
"And now? We probably will have the attention of the whole fucking Kingdom thanks to that little stunt of yours."
He glared at Clair and Beovhan.
"Which is exactly what I was trying to avoid right now!"
Calir stammered out defensively.
"W-we didn't do anything. We've been trapped in the cages you locked us in!"
It was at that point that something within Sygil snapped. His eyes widened in white-hot fury, and so he stormed towards Clair.
Before she could react, his hand shot out and grabbed her by her hair, dragging her out.
She started to scream out in protest, and Beovhan jumped up quickly to throw himself on Sygil, but suddenly Trisha was on top of him, putting him in a headlock and forcing him back down.
Sygil ignored them, his rage focused on Clair as he dragged her out to the open in front of everyone.
Alizia stepped forth uncertainly, but a glare from Maxmillian made her pause.
Sygil shoved her to the ground face first, and she let out a cry of pain.
"Didn't do anything?!" Sygil hissed incredulously.
"Spare me your fucking lies you little witch."
Clair forced herself up onto her knees, turning to face Sygil, a mixture or pain, fear and anger plastered across her face.
"You had everything to do with this," he continued, livid.
"You managed to get a message out to Baron Joyce, using that god-damned trader Reginold. Joyce got the message, and with the blessing of Count Iselk and Viscount Schlauss, sent an army here thousands strong, with the sole intent of killing me and razing this place to the ground."
Clair looked ashen all of sudden, her face draining of colour.
"I know because when I made Baron Joyce squeal, and trust me, I know how to make people squeal, he told me. Right before I painted the ground with his worthless brains."
Sygil leaned in menacingly to Clair, so close to the point where she could feel his warm breath on her face.
"You thought you could try to usurp my control and kill me. But you failed."
He stood up, leaving the trembling woman to her own horrified thoughts.
"P-please," pleaded Beovhan.
Sygil raised an eyebrow in his direction.
"Please don't kill us. We're sorry! We won't ever do anything ever again. Please, just let us go, and we'll leave, a-and you'll never hear from us! You can keep the land, the money, everything!"
By now, tears were beginning to leak down the man's face.
"Please! Just don't hurt us! I'm begging you!"
The man's final sentence sounded more akin to a desperate wail as fear eclipsed his voice.
Sygil strolled towards the fat man, kneeling down with a giddy expression on his face as he revelled in the fear permeating the air.
It reminded that he was in control.
"Is that begging I'm hearing from you, Beovhan?" Sygil almost sounded excited, the hints of a savage smile threatening to spill across his features.
"It really suits you much more than that other filth you used to spit at me," he goaded.
Beovhan bit back a retort, feeling his tears starting to leak more noticeably.
Oh, god, we're utterly fucked!
While Sygil was not privy to the despairing man's thoughts, there was no mistaking the realisation of the situation.
Sygil stood up slowly, a small twisted smile on his face.
"I don't know, though. This stunt you've both pulled makes me question your remaining usefulness, and whether I should keep you anymore."
Beovhan went pale and rigid with fear at the implications.
"W-wait! We can still give you things! We can make things right! We can send a message out to the nobles. Tell them th-that we have regained the property. Then they'll leave you alone. And you can take that contract you wrote and if anyone questions you can show them that it is now your property after we gave you the property, a-and we'll leave you alone and never come back!"
The man's desperate words and suggestions came out rapid-fire, his adrenaline running high.
Sygil felt his lips twist into a frown.
"And how, pray tell, am I expected to explain the complete and utter evisceration of a Kingdom-sanctioned military to everyone, let alone the fact that the noble Baron Joyce is currently lying in a field missing half his body and head? Hmm?"
By now, Beovhan was trembling, and Clair's whimpers were becoming more audible.
"I-I…" he stammered.
"Y-you can't kill us!"
Sygil turned to face Clair as she suddenly screamed out.
Sygil raised an eyebrow at her, which only encouraged her to continue.
"You have no fucking RIGHT! You-you CUNT!"
Sygil slowly began to walk to where she was kneeling at full height, tears streaming down her face as she tried to glare at him defiantly.
He stared at her dispassionately as he approached her, his shadow looming over her.
"Y-you're a monster!" she spat.
Sygil couldn't help the small chuckle that erupted from him.
"I'm a monster? How quaint, you fucking hypocrite."
He couldn't be bothered wasting time to debate with her ethics.
"You'll die, and when you do, the Six Gods will send you on a flaming horse to hell! Where I hope you rot and burn for eternity!"
"God, you say?" Retorted Sygil, looming over the shaking woman who was clutching her heavily pregnant belly protectively.
"Oh, my dear," smiled Sygil.
"Your gods mean nothing to me because they are nothing. They're dead, aren't they? So what exactly are they supposed to do, then?"
Sygil stared at her mockingly.
"Nothing! I spit on your gods just as I spit on you," he all but practically spat.
Clair spat back with a mix of desperation and vehemence as she stared up at him defiantly. He could almost commend her for her conviction. Almost.
"The Six Gods will not let this evil go by!"
"Woman, you're delusional. I've already gotten away with everything. If these Six Gods you speak of were such powerful almighty deities, they would have interfered by now, but they haven't. Such pointless faith is meaningless and lost in reality. Fate is what you, as an individual, make of it. And right now, I'm the one deciding it."
"Then spare her of whatever fate you plan, and take it all out on me," came the resigned voice of Beovhan.
Sygil shot an eyebrow up in amusement as he slowly angled his body around to face the destitute man.
"You? Are willing to sacrifice yourself to spare your wife? I didn't know you were so chivalrous, Beovhan."
Clair felt the tears run down her face as her heart raced.
"Beovhan?! Wh-what are you doing!"
"Face it darling. We've lost. We're completely at this monster's mercy. But I refuse to let you suffer." With that, Beovhan stared up at Sygil with resolution.
"Kill me. Torture me, or do whatever you want to me. But spare my wife. Please."
Time seemed to slow down as Sygil and Beovhan locked eyes. One pair held cruel amusement, the other resigned conviction. Two indomitable wills battling out and refusing to concede.
After what seemed an eternity, Sygil slowly closed his eyes as his shoulders sagged, letting out a slow chuckle.
"I suppose I really did underestimate you, Beovhan. Perhaps you're right in a manner of speaking. I shouldn't kill Clair at all."
Beovhan felt himself let out a bated breath he didn't even know he was holding.
The atmosphere almost seemed disturbingly tranquil. Peaceful even. To the warriors in the gathering, however, the more apt term would have been 'calm before the storm'. And a storm it would be.
The sudden glint of steel in Sygil's hand shattered the tranquillity, but before anyone could react, it was too late.
Recommended Soundtrack: Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood OST – Mortal Sin
Beovhan's eyes widened to saucers in panic as Clair let out an agonised scream. However, he was helpless to watch as the sabre Sygil suddenly materialised tore through Clair's stomach like a hot knife through butter, spilling blood and amniotic fluid everywhere.
Clair collapsed on her side, an ear-piercing, agonised wail screeching through the air as Clair desperately clutched at the opening wound on her rapidly-deflating stomach, trying to hold the bloody entrails and viscera supporting her, very-likely, bisected child.
Beovhan let out a bloodcurdling scream.
"CLAAAAIIIIIIRRRR!"
Sygil flicked his bloodied blade dispassionately as he frowned down at the screaming woman.
"I'll leave your fate to your Six Gods instead. Whether you live or succumb to your injuries is now in their hands. We'll see if they truly do exist and even care."
"CLAIR!"
Beovhan watched as his wife's complexion paled, a product of the sudden shock and blood-loss.
Clair's desperate cries started to die down to pained gurgles as her hands became drenched in her own entrails and child's remains.
"CLAIR! YOU SICK BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU MOTHERFUCKER! YOU HEAR ME! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"
Beovhan tried to pounce on Sygil who was glancing at him disinterestedly, but Trisha tightened her hold, keeping him pinned down and incapable of moving.
Sygil glanced at Beovhan coldly.
"I warned you. Plenty of times, in fact. There would be consequences for your actions. You tested my patience with your stunt, bringing the Army on to my doorstep like you so foolishly did. Which brings up another interesting point. Alizia," he summoned without giving a second glance. She cautiously stepped forth.
"Yes, sir?" She timidly responded.
"I find it curious that the Army managed to so quickly and easily infiltrate the Southern gate like they did. You were in charge and placed your most trustworthy soldiers on duty, am I correct?"
Alizia felt her heart drop, and was certain her palour was paler than normal, but otherwise answered as naturally as she could.
"That is correct. Though I – " Sygil continued firmly, ignoring her excuses and protests.
"And I also find it peculiar that you happened to be alone with Quantum when the whole laboratory blew up. Relatively unscathed too, I might add," he continued upon glancing her minor scuffs, scratches and bruises.
"I didn't do anything at all, sir. I'm telling the truth!" Everyone could hear the desperate pleading in her voice.
"No, you didn't, I suppose," Sygil mused quietly, looking at her forlornly.
"That was all you needed to do after all. Was nothing."
At that, Sgil's voice hardened as he summoned his Desert Eagle, aiming it at Alizia's head as he snarled out. Alizia's eyes widened in shock.
"I don't like traitors."
And with that, before anyone could say or do anything, he pulled the trigger.
The entire back of Alizia's cranium exploded outwards, spraying blood, brain, bone, hair and flesh everywhere as the metallic bang resonated throughout the air.
Alizia's corpse barely hit the ground before Sygil wheeled on Maxmillian and Hans.
"I have no use for those prisoners," he shot out, gesturing to the six captive Re-Estize officers who suddenly looked even more terrified.
"Shoot them," he waved dismissively.
Maxmillian and Hans both stepped to the side to give some distance from the captives. Sygil tossed his Desert Eagle to Hans who caught it easily, while Maxmillian produced the other handgun Sygil had loaned earlier.
Before anyone could react, they both had their weapons aimed at the kneeling prisoners who were sputtering and protesting. But it was for naught.
The screams were drowned out by the sound of the hand-guns essentially being spammed, spraying blood and viscera everywhere onto the ground before them.
The corpses hit the ground in a bloody heap, blood rapidly pooling out.
Sygil's eyes shot out to the three remaining tense mercenaries.
"Now, as for you three. I have no real idea where your loyalties lie. As such, it is too risky to keep you around, therefore you're a liability."
The mercenaries faces morphed into horror at the sudden realisation of their fate.
"Now, just wait a minute-!"
"What the fuck man -!"
Sygil ignored their protests as they quickly made to stand. Instead, he snapped a gloved hand in their direction, before droning out his command.
"Kill them."
The shadows behind the three mercenaries suddenly sprang to life, demonic eyes and drooling teeth looming over them as they suddenly began to cry and whimper in terror.
They let loose terrified and painful screams as the hounds descended onto the three mercenaries, spraying blood and gore everywhere as they gorged themselves on the feeble humans, digesting the steel armour just as easily as the flesh and blood they were made of.
As the demihumans watched the grisly spectacle with a mixture of fascination and horror, Sygil pinched the bridge of his nose, letting loose an exasperated sigh before turning his head to face the raging Beovhan.
"And now, you've made me go and do something even I find detestable. You really are a work of art, aren't you Beovhan."
"YOU KILLED MY WIFE AND CHILD YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
"Yes, and as much as I hate killing such an innocent and pure soul like your unborn child, I gave you fair warning, and have been incredibly lenient towards you and your wife's actions. You brought this upon yourself. Yet even still, after you have been punished, you find ways to still infuriate me."
With those hissed words, Sygil strode over to Beovhan, before gripping him tightly by the collar of his ruined short, hoisting him up and forcing Trisha to let go of him.
The second her arms let go, Beovhan swung his remaining fist in a desperate haymaker towards Sygil's face. Before it could make contact however, one of the monstrous pet hounds Sygil kept suddenly appeared, it's bloodied teeth clamping down on his arm, biting it off.
Beovhan let loose a painful scream, while Sygil didn't even flinch as blood splattered across his suit and face.
Sygil spun and tossed the wounded man directly onto the crumpled heap that was his wife.
"And even now," spat Sygil. "You can't even keep your fucking blood off of me."
Sygil strode over, outstretching his hand, materialising the hand-gun he tossed to Hans.
"You're so desperate to be with your wife, then? Well, let me give you a free express ticket straight to hell to reunite you with the bitch."
And with that he levelled the handgun at Beovhan's screaming face and fired.
The round blew the top half of his head right off, exploding blood and brain matter in a grisly shower over his silently dying wife. A lone eyeball dangled from what remained of the eyesocket.
With that, the only sound permeating the air was the sound of flesh being devoured by the shadow hounds.
Sygil lowered his gun as he glowered at the remains, before his gaze settled on Clair's pale face.
A sneer suddenly plastered itself across his, and without even thinking, he aimed the gun at her head and let a round fire, killing her right then and there as well.
He stood there for several long seconds, his rage having erupted. The remaining hatred and anger finally erupted, and with snarl he aimed his gun at the two corpses and unloaded several rounds into their bodies, not even bothering for a specific target. He just wanted to vent his fury.
Flesh and blood exploded in grisly showers of gore, desecrating the remains of the bodies before Sygil finally regained his composure, glancing at the bodies with contempt.
With an airy exhale, he dematerialised his handgun finally, turning around to address the remaining subordinates of his.
"Well…" he began slowly. "Now that's taken care of, I suppose this place needs a bit of a clean-up. Trisha," he barked. The woman jostled at her name.
"Take your remaining warriors and see to putting out the remaining fires."
Sygil shot her a sharp look as she hesitated, giving her incentive to obey the command. She gestured for the remaining Demihumans to accompany her, and they were more than eager to leave the vicinity and escape from Sygil's presence, as well as his hounds.
Sygil watched them leave, before finally returning his gaze to bloody mess before him and his three NPC subordinates.
"What are your orders sir?"
Maxmillian was the one that had spoken.
What now indeed… pondered Sygil. Everything was destroyed now. This setback was a costly one. Still. As much as Sygil would have loved to wallow in grief and anger, he was not going to allow this mere setback to hold him down. No, he would find a way, somehow, to emerge from this ugly fiasco.
"Quantum," he finally called.
"Yes master?" Droned the automaton.
"Will you be able to repair yourself?"
"Definitely. Though, it will take two days to fully repair and upgrade myself back to peak functional levels, especially with the lack of quality resources available."
Damn you two! Sygil internally snarled at the late couple he had executed.
He earnestly wished their stay in hell would be agonising for every eternal moment.
However, such thoughts would be of no service to him at this moment. No, he had to instead on focus on the here and now.
"What are our current defensive capabilities?"
"Following the loss of the mercenaries and most of the demihumans, as wells as the destruction of a perimeter wall, not good, sir," responded Hans.
"The only reason we survived was due to our high levelling when compared to these primitive gnats. The firearms were most useful," he continued.
Sygil frowned as he placed a thoughtful thumb under his chin.
"But we cannot rely solely on our skills and firearms to get us through any problems we encounter. Otherwise we will never be able to make any damned progress."
Sygil felt himself sneer.
"We're almost back to square one thanks to those treacherous bastards."
"There is another concern sir," added Maxmillian.
"Since this world uses a noble caste system, the sudden disappearance of Baron Joyce and his army will likely draw further attention to us in due time."
"I'm well aware of Maxmillian. We have at best a couple weeks before they start asking questions as to what the hell is going on. So much for being inconspicuous," he groused under his breath.
"Since we lack an army, what will be doing now for defence? Or should we move to another location?"
Everyone looked at Hans, who had raised the questions.
"That is not true," began Quantum, much to everyone's surprise.
"We do have an army, right in front of us," he elaborated.
"Please explain," frowned Sygil.
"The corpses. So long as they are not too damaged or decayed, the bodies can be reanimated as organic puppets, including levelling them up to much higher levels. If Maxmillian were to work with me in reanimating them, we would have a readily available army. Despite being weak organics, if done right, they would be reprogrammed to be entirely loyal to you, master."
"You're saying you can reanimate the dead?" Sygil was sceptical, amazed and concerned.
"It is less reanimating the dead so much as it is injecting an artificial soul into the vessel that is the body, much like with an automaton. In fact, it is significantly cheaper than creating automatons, even, master."
Quantum almost seemed to be beaming.
"They would be loyal to me, and not ever change loyalties due to their past memories?"
The last thing Sygil wanted was a repeat of the mercenaries.
"The original soul residing in them is gone, master. What we would be doing is creating artificial souls and placing them in the bodies to commandeer them. And since the souls are created by us, they would, by extension, be loyal to you."
Sygil had to admit. The idea had some validity to it.
"And you're certain you can achieve this?"
Quantum nodded.
"Absolutely certain. The only limiting factor is our ability to work quickly before the viable corpses decay. To combat this, I suggest placing the corpses in stasis until they can be augmented."
Yes, this would work indeed. Even better!
Sygil felt a grin sweep across his face.
"This sounds like an excellent plan. How long would it take to raise this army?"
"Unfortunately, due to the lack of available resources and the necessity of restarting operations, it could very well take up to three months to augment every available corpse to become a soldier. And that is not accounting for the logistics of equipping each soldier with weaponry, supplies and more. Additionally, if you want me to continue on the technological upgrades and research, especially into the category of firearms, it may take even longer."
Sygil felt his mood sour at the mentioned timeframe.
"I suppose I was a little too hopeful in that regard. And that leaves us the next concern. The base itself. It's a disaster. We're vulnerable to every opportunist."
Quantum spoke up.
"If Maxmillian were to help with the preservation of the corpses, I can look into using the salvaged materials around to quickly produce an automaton work force. I can split them between repairing the bases and building defences, as well as gathering more resources and minerals."
Sygil nodded in satisfaction.
"Do it, then. Have Trisha and the remaining demihumans salvage the corpses and place into stasis. Then get to work on repairing the base."
"Pardon me for questioning," began Hans, "But why can't you just create defensive automatons already, Quantum?"
"That would require me to be at least level 55, as well as have sufficient attributes in weaponry research and production that I currently lack," intoned the automaton in what was almost an irritated voice.
"Ignoring that," interjected Maxmillian impatiently, "What are we going to do about the situation regarding the nobles? We know that Baron Joyce was sent with the approval of several other nobles. That means it's only a matter of time until they investigate their missing army and Baron."
Sygil frowned. This whole debacle that Clair and Beovhan unleashed was proving to be a headache.
"Right now, I'm not too sure. We'll probably have to deal with them more directly. And soon."
Maxmillian nodded.
"Understood. However, what are we supposed to about base defences? We can't have the demihumans work on rebuilding and guarding at the same time. We have no real substantial army currently."
Maxmillian was right. With no standing army, they were vulnerable to roaming bandits or another army battalion arriving. And with the prospect of the reanimated soldiers being potentially months away, any defence offered would be too late.
And we don't have enough demihumans warriors…
At that moment, something clicked inside Sygil's mind. He found his lips tugging into a small smirk.
"I think I know where we can get our army…"
Author's note:
Well, I'm kinda curious. How many of you expected it to go that violent? I'm honestly expecting some people to drop this story at this point. I do question if I have pushed the violence too far this chapter, but I'm sure if I have I'll hear about it in the reviews. Oh well, it's not like I actually condone violence of any sort. You're more than welcome to tell me your thoughts, opinions, questions and more, and I'll try to get to them by the next update. If you're still interested in continuing to read this story, then welcome aboard! The fun is only beginning… :)
Next chapter will be on the 5th February 2021, and yes, I'll try to make it a bit longer (~10k)
Take care until then