BOOK 4: CHAPTER 15: INTERLUDE: THE SAVIOR

Erik had been waiting for this day. Like everyone else, he had been praying for the arrival of a rescue squad.

In the first few months, they were certain the military would come to free them, yet nobody arrived. Those with the ability to sneak past the undead undetected and those with the means to shroud their presence with magical abilities reached the surface and sought survivors to help.

Some even fought and returned victoriously. They grew stronger than the rest, yet nobody was as strong as the sheer endless stream of undead. Whenever they eliminated one, two, sometimes even more, seemed to replace them. Worse still, they were forced deeper into the metro as the first undead advanced into the underground. Several powerful figures of undead had emerged, forcing them to fight with their lives on the line.

They survived, but at what cost? Hundreds of survivors died, and more were bound to follow as their supplies diminished. In the first place, the sole reason they were still alive was a small Rift connecting them to a forest with several small ponds, a beautiful lake in its center, and a myriad of monsters.

If not for the Rift, they wouldn’t have survived for more than two months. But no matter how pleasant the Rift’s manifestation was, it didn’t solve their problems. It postponed them at best.

As the months passed, their hope in rescue diminished. With every day that passed, they grew less hopeful of someone rescuing them. And once they discovered the quartet of almighty undead that seemed to rule above all, many felt their hopes crushed. Erik was one of them. He was hopeless, and he was certain that wouldn’t have changed if not for the arrival of the crimson birds.

The first time someone reported the sighting of a crimson bird, nobody took it seriously. Neither did they when more crimson birds appeared in the following days.

However, as the days passed and the airborne undead failed to hunt the crimson birds, something changed. A group of Scouts were sent out to search for more underground Rifts to create a second base, but they discovered a collapsed tunnel that led straight to the surface, alongside several undead. The Scouts tried to flee but were surrounded and forced to fight. They barely survived, infected and severely wounded, and wouldn’t have made it back to the base with such grievous wounds.

That was when everything changed. Several crimson birds descended and healed them. They didn’t remain but returned to the sky, evading several airborne undead, and continued to circle Liear, just like they had been for weeks. The Scouts returned with the news. They shared their experience and, to Erik’s delight and confusion, spread the word of the crimson birds—of the magical constructs they were.

Subtle research verified the Scouts’ claims. While containing lifeforce, the crimson birds were not alive. They were the creation of a powerful Skill. A Skill powerful enough to replicate monsters and animals near-perfectly.

A ray of hope pierced the darkness that had begun to engulf them, and it wasn’t long before their Mages discovered people, as well as a massive pillar of pure lifeforce. People, living and striving, approached their base, tearing through the few undead that attempted to stop them. The rest rushed past them and headed toward the pillar of life.

The people, clearly experienced fighters, weren’t alone. Crimson birds guided them toward their base to rescue them.

At last, someone had come to free them from the nightmare that had lasted far longer than it should have.

Geysers of darkness erupted near the pillar of light, and one of the supreme undead beings disintegrated before their eyes as they rejoined their rescuers on the surface. Erik and the others were ready to depart, carrying the old and injured. They wanted nothing more than to leave, to escape the nightmare once and for all. Yet they stopped in their tracks as a crimson figure drew their attention.

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Erik wasn’t sure if the others could see it, but he was certain the other Hunters could.

“Is that him? The man who controls the magical structure?” someone asked beside him. Erik recognized the voice, but his mind refused to give up the name. His brain reeled, struggling to focus on the figure.

“Are you talking about David? He’s a lunatic, though a good one,” a young woman standing near the crimson magical structure said.

However, as harsh as her words sounded, the contrast in her eyes was striking. Complete trust glimmered there.

“He rescued us from a monster horde a few months ago. We would have been obliterated if not for him,” she added.

Another voice, eyes gleaming with excitement and unwavering loyalty, chimed in, “He is our savior.”

Savior, huh? Erik thought, grimacing.

He didn’t care whether their rescuers were lunatics, zealots, or mad. For all he cared, they could be all three combined. Erik was just happy they’d made it out alive.

The earth began to shake, and voices of confusion and startled yelps reached his ears. He turned to one of his friends, who pointed back toward the city center.

Turning to the pillar of light, Erik could hardly believe what he was seeing. A massive hammer made of pitch-black darkness rested in their savior’s hands, and it crashed down upon their greatest adversary, the colossal skeleton.

The man, their savior, wasn’t just swinging a warhammer far too heavy for any man to wield, he was crushing the undead. The earth quaked from the force of his blows.

“Is he even human?” Erik blurted out without thinking, earning a joyous laugh in response.

“He is human. At least, he said he’s from here. But he’s powerful, so strong that I doubt he’s still mortal. If he’s actually human in the first place. His Excellency is… unlike anything I’ve seen,” the young woman said with a smile. 𝑅𝖆Nօ𝖇ĚS̩

His Excellency? Does he have a god complex or something like that?!

Erik shuddered, and his hair stood on end. Dark clouds gathered above them, and arcs of dark-violet lightning tore through the masses of undead, killing them by the hundreds. Darkness blanketed the entire city as the storm swelled, only for lightning flashes and crimson birds to illuminate the night.

Then, it arrived.

Something humongous, flooding the city with unrelenting bloodlust, passed overhead. It filled every inch of Erik’s body with fear and despair. Death seemed to knock on his door as he looked up to see a serpent, massive and with wings clad in vibrant feathers, tearing across the sky with shocking speed, radiating immense power... and even more bloodlust, now that he looked at it.

His hair bristled, and he shivered uncontrollably. Even his legs refused to obey him.

But he wasn’t the only one affected by the massive, crimson creature streaked with dark-violet lightning. Even the young woman and the other rescuers trembled, their eyes wide with horror.

The pillar of light had ceased, Erik couldn’t tell when, and the pitch-black geysers were gone as well. Only the presence of death and bloodlust remained, filling the city as the massive serpent soared skyward, then dove.

It plummeted beyond the rubble that blocked his view. A moment later, their savior, shrouded in a crimson halo that mirrored the winged serpent and clad in wings that looked just like its own, burst into the sky. He moved so fast, he left afterimages in his wake.

He stopped midair and raised a hand. The clouds overhead gathered once more, but now they were no longer entirely dark, pristine white arcs of lightning danced within them. As their savior lowered his hand, the blended light and darkness descended together, incinerating the overwhelming presence of death that had overtaken the city center.

Forget the god complex — that guy is a god.