Kill. That's all the brood mother demanded of them. Make this place home. Make this place death. Its brothers and sisters chittered in agreement to its thoughts. This interloper, this creature that had been dead and webbed. Dared to disrespect them by breaking free of its new home? It chittered angrily, mandibles grounding together in fury. And now it has brought more? More dead and webbed roamed free? No matter. It had put them there before, it would do so again.

  It screeched and charged forward, biting into the leg of one of the dead and webbed. It twitched in excitement, venom coursing into the body of its latest victim. But it backed away, confusion written on its many eyes, and then anger. It bit again and again. Where was that delightful noise the dead and webbed make when it bites? It was ruining the hunt. Chittering and scratching at the ground it charged forward again but another of its brethren leapt forward, beating it to its prize. Sailing over the line of dead and webbed it landed on the slick surface.

  Screeching in pain and terror it tried to run back but its legs began to freeze and it couldn't gain any purchase. Its eyes darted towards another of the dead and webbed. It dared to approach? It lashed out, its fangs sinking into its strange hard skin. Blades sunk into it, it screeched and continued to bite and thrash but before long it was bleeding out on the ground. The dead and webbed hollow sockets disregarding it as they turned back to its brood mates.

  More screeches, enough of this. The dead and webbed were to die, the brood mother demanded it. Launching themselves at the dead and webbed they tackled the brutes to the ground. Biting happily and madly into the faces and shoulders. Victory would be theirs, it was predestined. The brood mother said so. It ripped happily but stopped suddenly. The dead and webbed was moving, its eyes darted down to its chest where thick protrusions ripped outwards and clamped down on its body. It screeched in pain. Its screeches were echoed by many others. As they were devoured by the maws of the dead and webbed.

  I held my concentration on the cycle of death and undeath, death energy flowing through an offered hand while flaming tendrils left my other. Animating the dead hidden within the various cocoons scattered around me. It wasn't a sustainable cycle unfortunately. But for now, sending forward a constant wave of zombies and skeletons was the best I could do. I needed more advanced undead. Though I watched my trojan zombies with satisfaction. Utilizing the part of Animate that allowed me to manipulate specific parts of a corpse had allowed me to imbue their rib cages with different orders. When a spider managed to pin one or cause significant damage to the torso then it would open up like the jaws of a shark and clamp down. It was brutal and grotesque but when fighting demons, anything goes.

  Class: Necromancer has reached level 14.

  I paused the cycle of animation briefly to assign the free points available to perception and closed my status box. The familiar sensation of power flooded through me, the difference in my physical senses noticeable. I nodded absently, analyzing the battlefield once more. The Spiders were truly endless, but that meant I'd start raising them soon to continue the battle of attrition. I needed more scouts though and soon. Even if I had accepted what I was now this was simply not a winnable battle for me at my current strength.

  The best I could do would be to hold them off long enough to get out of the city. But I couldn't leave without Alaric. He was linked to the new, albeit optional objective, the System had given me. Or at least I was assuming so. It wouldn't make much sense to have me following him around for the last week or so and then just suddenly abandon him. Besides, I'd have a fairly pissed off paladin to worry about if I showed up without him.

  A mental tug from my shade alerted me to the approach of bipedal threats. I glanced up towards the rooftops and saw a small group of armored men. Though their crimson souls burning brightly in my vision revealed their true nature. They leapt down and bounded across the field of dead, stopping at the edge of my Ghostflame. Winter Bound pushed in around me, forming a protective circle, weapons akin to Harbinger drawn and at the ready.

  One of the demons spoke loudly in some guttural tongue, the crass words ringing across the ice. I stared blankly at him, waiting expectantly. They seemed to shift uncomfortably at the edge of my domain before another spoke, his voice rasping and aged.

  "Necromancer," He wheezed, "Why do you turn against the ones who gave your Order of Bones the knowledge you craved?"

  I frowned but decided to play along, let's see how far I can push this.

  "Circumstance," I replied, my voice muffled by the mask, "Your spiders waylaid my travels."

  The demon who had spoken nodded at my words, "A shame then, that your travels took you through the heart of the Broodmother."

  "A shame indeed," I answered grimly.

  The demon who had spoken earlier spoke again but to the other demon. Unfortunately I didn't know the language.

  "The Broodmother would be willing to allow you to leave, to ease the suffering of her children," The demon rasped again, "Though she would demand the return of the corpses you have stolen."

  "I need the Cleric who came through as well before I can leave," I said, "Without that I will continue to kill her children and steal her food."

  The first demon shouted angrily at the translation of the rasping demon, its large hands going for the sword at its hip.

  "That is unfortunately not something that can happen," It rasped sadly, "The Broodmother is willing to let you live but not that blasphemous warrior charging into her heart. She wants him for herself," I could feel the smile behind those words.

  "Then I will continue to deliver death to her brood." I answered coldly.

  "So be it." The demons drew their weapons and stepped through the flame wall. The flames licked ineffectually at their armor, but that wasn't the point of the flames.

  Wisps traveled into the gaps of their armor, singeing the skin beneath and burrowing towards the soul. A couple of the smaller demons cried out in sudden anguish while the others bore through it.

  I didn't expect much to affect beings such as these.

  "Kill them," I ordered the Winter Bound before turning my attention back towards the larger battle.

  My hand extending and animating the remains of spiders to bolster my forces.

  The Winter Bound leapt forward, their weapons igniting with my ghostly flame and engaged the enemy. I listened absently to the dings of battle. My shade would warn me of anything getting too close to me.

  Castien leapt forward with Ashryn by his side, the two gracefully colliding with a pair of demons. Blades rasping along each other as they parried and riposted. The other Winter Bound soon slid forward, engaging their own enemies. Castien's blade found the staff of the rasping demon and it smirked at him.

  "My," It chortled, "I didn't think there were any Elves of your kind left after what we did to the forest."

  Castien grimaced at the scent of sulfur that accompanied the beast's words, stepping back and gripping his sword with both hands.

  "Not going to speak?" The demon asked humorously.

  Castien lunged forward, his feet planting to empower his attack.

  The demon swept his staff forward, knocking the sword from its trajectory with a loud clang.

  Castien recovered quickly, regaining his footing and bringing his blade down in a quick barrage before stepping back once more.

  "Elves," It grimaced. Swinging its staff around in a wide arc, hellfire flinging off of it and seizing the icy ground.

  Castien stepped back and glanced at his blade, it had never been ineffectual to this degree before. What was different about this demon? He glanced around at the other Winter Bound, their fights going similarly. Something needed to change. His hands flexed, his magic weaving together a new weapon, a spear he had seen his Lord use in the previous fights. It had proven effective against the spiders, would it do so against this being?

  Syndra watched curiously, she knew that Castien was an expert with the blade but if he was switching his style, perhaps she should too. Though her preferred weapon wouldn't be a spear.

  She scoffed at the demand for elegance in her friend's style, sometimes all you needed was brute strength.

  She brought her weapon up and pulled it down, crashing the head of an axe against the shield of the demon in front of her, burying it deep into the edge of the shield.

  She let go of the weapon, watching the demon stumble momentarily with the added weight to its arm. She took a page out of her Lord's book, manifesting icy claws along her fingers and rapidly thrusting them into the exposed neck of the demon.

  Demonic ichor flew outward, drenching the ice below in black. She manifested claws along her other fingers and eliminated the threat but taking care not to mutilate the corpse more than necessary, her Lord may have a use for it. And it wouldn't do to spoil his materials.

  "That was brutal," I muttered, watching Syndra extract her bloodied hands from the demon's corpse.

  I turned my gaze to my next batch of zombies before deciding to make shades out of them instead. I held out my hands and followed the ritual I had stumbled upon when fixing my newest shade. Power flowed and ebbed, artificial cores implanting themselves in the corpses. Five beings of shadow rose in front of me, hooded manifestations of darkness.

  "Find Alaric," I ordered. The five melted into the surroundings, fleeing swiftly to fulfill my will. Now all I had to do was wait and figure out how I was going to move through the city once the time came to retrieve Alaric. I turned back to the Winter Bound to see Castien dragging the limp form of the rasping demon towards me.

  The others dragging their quarry in a similar fashion.

  A grim smile set itself on my lips. "Good job," I praised.

  They all nodded their heads in acknowledgement before Castien spoke, "I left this one alive for interrogation, my lord."

  I nodded, "Set him over here and bind him."

  Castien did as I instructed, roughly setting the demon on its bottom and forming shackles made of ice, restraining both its hands and legs.

  The demon looked up at me and cackled, "Perhaps we should have paid more attention to your Order of Bones."

  "Perhaps," I replied, "Perhaps not. Tell me where to find the Broodmother."

  It cackled again, "Why? Do you desire death so soon? I'd be happy to help you myself."

  Castien's fist crashed against the side of its head, "Speak with respect to the master."

  The demon coughed and spit black ichor to the ground, "You have quite the ensemble of undead, Necromancer."

  I nodded, "The Broodmother, demon."

  "Or what? You'll kill me? Torture me?" The demon laughed, "I'm from the hells boy."

  I sighed and looked back towards the battlefield, the spiders were beginning to push the undead back. We were beginning to give marginal ground without my direct attention. This would be a problem when we pushed through the streets.

  "What happens to a demon when they die?" I asked curiously.

  "We return to the hells. What kind of teaching did you receive to ask such an idiotic question."

  I nodded and looked at Castien, "Kill him, but leave the corpse intact."

  The demon laughed maniacally, "And you Necromancers pretend to be better than us."

  It took another breath to continue speaking but the harsh noise of a blade piercing bone halted whatever it was about to say.

  Castien's blade penetrated the demon in the side of the skull, and after a vigorous pull the corpse fell to the ground.

  "Gather the corpses over here," I ordered them, "I have work to do."

  The five corpses lay in front of me, excellent specimens all in all. Physically built with demonic vigor to boot. I held out my hands, intent on raising more shades but stopped. The liquid fire halting in its advance. Necromancers were known for their massive hoards of undead, zombies and skeletons were the easiest by far to raise. But how did they control them? If I wasn't constantly watching the frontline and giving simple orders they would fall in a heartbeat.

  There was another limitation, complex orders were difficult to give out. It hadn't mattered during the monster release, the simple order of kill the Gnolls worked perfectly. But here, it wouldn't work here. So how do I fix that?

  Shades wouldn't do as commanders, I needed the Winter Bound by my side, I don't have time nor the desire to start binding souls. I needed a new type of zombie then, but how to make it?

  I frowned, it'd be convenient if Elden were here to speak with about this. All right, let's start simple. The process for creating a shade is to create an artificial soul core or bind an existing soul, then change the mana networks to produce the shadowy figures. So what if I skip the second step and use Animate to fuel the spell instead? What type of zombie would I get?

  The liquid fire resumed its course, pouring its teal fingers over the bodies and flowing through them. I held the spell and monitored the progress of the artificial soul core. The strain of forcing the process through Animate was painstaking. Weaving together the threads of death energy like one would knit a scarf. Taunt and pushed to the edge of the skills capabilities I worried it wouldn't take. Until the tension was suddenly released in a familiar click.

  Notice: Demonic Revenant has been raised.

  Notice: Congratulations, Skill [Animate] has reached Tier 5. Animate is now a mastered skill and can evolve.

  Would you like a tutorial on Skill Evolutions?

  I shook my head, "Maybe later."

  Watching my newest undead pick themselves up off the ground. Their armor creaked and screeched as their bodies pressed against its binds. Muscles contracting unnaturally as death itself fueled their movements. I hadn't just raised these minions, I had changed the fabric of their reality. From demon to undead, the change was subtle. Likely due to their armor still covering most of their body. They turned towards me in unison and stared listlessly at me. A primal intelligence reflected in the teal flame of their eyes. A predator's gaze.

  I smiled, "Perfect," I pointed a finger towards the frontline, "Hold the line, do not let the spiders gain any more ground."

  The Revenants marched forward, taking control of the battlefield immediately. I watched them for a minute or two, making sure this would be the solution to our current problem. Before nodding and turning my attention to the scouting shades, feeling the connection between us.

  They were out there, some had been caught and were attempting to escape the wrath of the spiders. While my demon shade continued through unmolested, honing in on something.

  I waited several long moments before it reported through the connection and I frowned. It had found Alaric, in the center of this infested city, fighting the Brood Mother alone.

  I tapped my foot anxiously, it was one thing to hold back the tide of these abyssal spiders. It was a whole other thing to fight something like that. I was nowhere near strong enough to even consider it. I gazed at my line of undead, with the Revenants taking over the miniscule adaptations needed to continue the fight it might just be possible to escape.

  I nodded slowly and stopped tapping my foot, then that's my condition of victory, escape and extract from this webbed hell hole.

  If we could save Alaric from his foolishness in the process then great, if not, well I guess I'll be going to the Gate alone.

  I gripped the connection between the Revenants and I, giving one simple order, push. They reacted immediately, the line of undead pushing out and through the spiders.

  I recalled the Shades and the Winterbound surrounded me while I walked to the front line, Harbinger forming a spear in one hand and Ghostflame blossoming in the other.

  "We're pushing towards the center of the city," I informed Castien and the rest of his entourage, "Our goal is to extract with Alaric, but if push comes to shove then we extract ourselves and move forward."

  "Understood, my lord," Castien replied swiftly, barking out quick orders to the other Winterbound.

  We stood at the back of the line, Ghostfire leaping from my hands and burning away the webs that stood in our way. Spiders crashed against the front frantically, biting and tearing at the zombies. It was no matter, I directed Animate from the tip of my spear and raised the spiders as they fell, replenishing my numbers. In a battle of attrition, I was king.

  Abyssal Spider raised.

  Abyssal Spider raised.

  [Error] Demonic interference detected, raising failed.

  [Error] Demonic interference detected, raising failed.

  Abyssal Spider raised.

  "Huh," I muttered aloud, "That could be a problem."

  Was the Brood Mother directly interfering in the raising? Or was it simply the remnant energy in the corpses?

  Soul sight and Spectral Sight flashed behind my eyes, and I analyzed the battlefield.

  There were thick crimson waves flowing to and from the spiders around us, I attempted to Animate again. Spectral energy rushed forward, wrapping itself around a corpse. Crimson lashed out at it, ripping it apart.

  [Error] Demonic interference detected, raising failed.

  "I see," I growled.

  I can't depend on their corpses to replenish my forces. There were only so many corpses around here that hadn't completely decayed. I narrowed my eyes, spectral orbs flitting about in my vision, briefly taking humanoid forms before darting off again. But there are thousands of wandering souls around here. How useful would Specters be in this fight? I had only ever seen Elden and Myer fight, and they were effective but would it be better than a horde?

  Only one way to find out. I reached out to a soul, activating Bind Specter, and pulling it towards me. Without the ritual Elden taught me I would have to pull them myself to make any deals. The Specter manifested in front of me, dense tendrils of fog wrapping around its form.

  I looked at the Specter, a man dressed in shabby armor and worn chainmail.

  "I have no intention to bind you unwillingly, though I would request your aid in surviving this city."

  The Specter looked at me, unconvinced but seemed content to listen.

  "Here are the terms I offer, I will bind you in my service to survive this hellscape, releasing you after the conclusion of the battle to come. In return, you get vengeance against the abominations who are destroying your home."

  The Specter considered my words before reluctantly nodding.

  I smiled, "I will release you, tell your brethren and any who wish to take me up on this offer will come to me and I will bind them."

  The Specter nodded, a feral gleam in its eyes before I released it and watched the soul dart to others. It would take some time before I had a force but the zombies should be able to hold out until then.

  How wrong I was, I underestimated the seething hatred these souls had for the demons that had killed them.

  Souls darted to me, whizzing in and out of my vision, lining themselves in a loose circle around me. I laughed, manic and thrilled.

  "My lord?" Castien questioned.

  I held out my spear and for every zombie that fell, a Specter rose to take its place.

  Swordsmen, archers, spearmen, and what looked to be mages of some kind integrated into the front line.

  Castien's eyes grew, as did the other Winterbound, watching the ranks fill with spectral apparitions of soldiers. Their weapons swinging down on the abominations throwing themselves at us. Spectral volleys ripping into the ranks of our enemy and picking stray spiders off the walls of the buildings around us.

  The mages weren't terribly impressive, likely due to how limited they were by my current strength. But projectiles of death bolt darted around the battlefield. And with this new force, we pushed forward.

  I was still raising zombies and skeletons, ordering the Revenants to act in conjunction with the Specters. The best force would be mixed, each had their own strengths and combined, there were plenty of corpses to continue.

  We pushed through the city, marching our deathly melody to the center. There was no point in staying still, no choke points to create or hold. We cut through the opposing horde slowly but surely, I would worry about fortifying an area once we were close enough to consider extracting Alaric. In the meantime, I was reveling in my strength, there was so much I could do now. So many new paths to consider. But I had to catch myself, I was sure one of the points of this trial was to show what power could do to someone. I could see Alaric's fall before it truly began, he was a man with unfathomable power. But the cost was still unknown. And while I didn't have something else tied to me, directing me, tempting me. I didn't need it to, the power I already had was intoxicating. I took a deep breath, this power is just a means to an end, it is not and will not be what I am. With that in mind I continued to watch the battlefield.

  The connection to your class has deepened.

  As the Shepherd of Souls you have broken from your fetal abstinence of utilizing the souls of the dead. You have obtained Fog of Dread. Guide your flock.

  I was filled with the intrinsic knowledge of the skill gained and I held my spear forward, spectral energy gathering at its tip and igniting with the ghostly flame of my soul.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Fog dripped to the ground in thick turbulent strands of smoke, spreading forward until it encased the frontline, stretching ever forward.

  It would not stop until I stopped fueling it. Wandering souls manifested in the dense cloud, striking out at the spiders, further fueling the chaos in their ranks. I sent out the mental command, urging my forces forward to take advantage. My undead had no trouble seeing through the fog, the same couldn't be said for the spiders within.

  We carved through the ranks of the spiders, making our way down the main street of the city, turning and heading towards the center where I could already see a grand cathedral dressed in its mournful webs. That must be where the brood mother made its nest.

  An effective strategy I had to admit, it was perfectly situated to take command of the city and would strike a moral blow against the occupants.

  It was then the Brood Mother decided that I was a threat. Low and high pitched screeches sounded off, their war cry bouncing against the stone walls and reverberating through the alley ways. Larger spiders, some with riders scrambled over the rooftops and along the walls of the buildings. It was an imposing sight. I watched one such spider, armor plating along its body and appendages thick as support beams charge my line, unaffected by its loss of sight in the fog.

  The spiders with riders charged along the rooftops, depositing their riders along the backline of my forces. Some turned their attention to me and the Winter Bound. I looked at them, demons, like before. More revenants to add to my ranks.

  Chaos erupted as the Winter Bound charged forward and I gave the order to the ranks to the Specters to turn their attention to these new threats. I slammed the back end of my spear against the ground, ice forming at the impact and spreading out to create an ideal battlefield. Flame sparking at the edges and igniting the fog.

  I wasn't expecting that part. Just how many things could I combo with Fog of Dread? I focused my attention and snapped, Mark of the Grave infecting the dreadful fog and spreading it without me needing to cast it on individual targets. This was new.

  So I could use Fog of Dread as a carrier of other skills. Though I did notice the ghostly flame dissipate as Mark of the Grave took over. So only one other skill can combo with it, still that will be incredibly useful.

  I turned my attention back to the demons on the back line, taking a fighting stance with my spear and waiting. Ideally my minions would do all the fighting for me, but when you're at war, prepare for every situation.

  Plus I wanted to see what Myer had accomplished with my daily training.

  A demon rushed me and I held them back with the spear, keeping my distance. Thrusting above at their upper body, planting one foot forward before stepping back and avoiding the riposte. Circle, drive the point forward, my back hand sliding along the haft to facilitate longer reach. Thrust above, moving forward one step at a time, drive the demon back. Repeat.

  The spear was not the most beautiful thing to look at, but it was a common weapon for a reason. It was effective.

  I drove the point of the spear into the shoulder of the demon and pushed further, getting it stuck in the opening in its armor. Its eyes lit up with opportunity, grabbing the haft of the spear and pulling it from my grip as another demon rushed me. Harbinger rekindled in my hand as a short sword. I parried the incoming demon, slashing at its torso and stepping back. Watching the demon grasp futilely at a disappearing spear, black blood pouring from the wound. Mark of the Grave.

  I exchanged blows with the new demon, our blades ringing out against each other and the hollow thump of my sword striking and sliding off of its shield. I'd have to get one of those. I pushed forward, locking its sword against mine and stepping into its guard, gripping its sword arm by the wrist and maneuvering the blade out of the way, Ghostfire rippling from my hand and spreading down its arm. It screamed from the sensation letting go of its sword and the shield dropping as it reached instinctively towards the wounded arm. Its physical form freezing while it was spiritually burning.

  I took the opportunity, ramming my sword into its torso and ripping it out savagely. Its lifeblood spraying out and dropping to the ground in large goblets. I stepped back, Animate waiting for their final vestiges of life to leave their corpses. Two new Revenants joined my army shortly after, a quick and dirty ritual. But like the Shade before them I would come back and touch it up if they survived the coming fight.

  My new Revenants stood guard by me while I watched the rest of the fight. The new Spiders were giving my horde a lot of trouble. Bigger, faster, stronger, and not reliant on the typical senses they had stalled our progress.

  The Cathedral was in sight, I could theoretically make it there with my shades and winter bound. Leaving the bulk of my forces to continue the fight. I took a breath and exhaled slowly, the objective was to extract with Alaric, not to conquer the city. Even if doing so would likely net me more levels in my class.

  I pulled the Winter Bound back, dragging the corpses of their demons back to me.

  I disliked utilizing Ghouls, as I'm sure I've said before, their hunger was too much of a liability if our connection becomes unstable. But I keep finding reasons to use them. I used Create Ghoul on the five corpses brought before me, their shambling forms crawling to their feet.

  "Obey the Revenants and make sure to keep the numbers up by infecting the enemy," I ordered aloud while sending the updated unit information to each of my Revenants and giving them their new commands. Hold the line and push forward when the enemy advance weakens. As for the Specters, they were to slowly peel off from the main force and rejoin me as I made my way to the Cathedral with the shades and Winterbound.

  I plunged the tip of my spear into the open mandibles of a screeching spider, burying it a quarter of the way up the haft before releasing and resummoning Harbinger. The Cathedral stood in front of me in all of its mournful dressing. Hundreds if not thousands of sickly green egg sacks pulsated along its exterior. Giving it a diseased glow in the fading sun. Inside I could hear the sounds of combat, radiant magic leaking through the cracks.

  Castien walked up next to me, "My lord, the immediate spiders have been dealt with and half of the specters have arrived."

  I acknowledged his report with a nod, "Let's take a look inside and go from there." My shadow expanded briefly before five distinct shapes flew from it and infiltrated the cathedral.

  All we had to do was wait patiently for the report and hold off any aspiring horde. My specters lined themselves up, remaining incorporeal until fighting was needed. This was the break in the storm, silence before catastrophe. While I may not be the most experienced soldier I knew to take advantage of moments like this. It wasn't long before the specters materialized and fought off another small horde of spiders. My shades returned a moment later with their report.

  Alaric was fighting a shadowy duplicate of himself, the Brood Mother simply watching from a grotesque throne of web and bone. What was her game? Exhaust him? Or was she simply playing with her food? Despite the importance of her role it seemed that there weren't any other spiders in the building. My horde hadn't proved to be that much of a distraction, had it? I shook my head, clearing the thought. It was likely pride of some kind. It was a demon after all.

  "How to proceed," I wondered aloud, "We don't need to kill the Brood Mother, we just need to get Alaric out and then we can be done with this trial."

  I tapped my foot in thought before giving the order. The Shades entered first, followed by the Specters, then me surrounded by the Winter Bound.

  I took a deep breath at the sight before me, if the outside had looked diseased then the inside was much worse. Thousands more egg sacs lay in wait, pulsating and emitting the dimmest of lights. And the shadow duplicate of Alaric was an exact copy though it seemed to only be defending. Copying and blocking all of his attacks.

  Sweat was pouring off of Alaric in rushing streams but the hunger remained vibrant in his eyes. He wanted this beast. I observed the void overtaking his soul, all thoughts of taking Alaric conscious expunged from my mind. The pure hunger that radiated off of him demanded to be fulfilled.

  "All right, as we planned," I said to my minions.

  The shades launched themselves at the Brood Mother, stabbing and biting at her, emitting a screech of surprise and anger at the mere fact we dared to attack.

  I held out my hands and conjured Ghostfire to my finger tips but before it could launch itself towards the shadow, several of the Brood Mother's eyes turned towards me. Locking me in place as its mind crashed into mine. Demanding entry. Demanding submission.

  I froze and pushed back but my will against the will of millions was no match. She broke into my mind and shoved me to the edges of it. A void surrounded me, faint mist swirling around my ankles.

  Where was I? It didn't matter. What was I doing? I was fighting something right?

  "Hush now child, rest," A soothing voice echoed through the darkness.

  I should rest, I've been through so much in such a short time. Weeks on the road fighting demons with Alaric. I died earlier, hadn't I? Why had that rest been denied to me? That was twice now I had been taken from the cold. Why should I fight it this time?

  My eyes drooped dangerously. It wouldn't hurt to close them for just a few minutes right? It wouldn't hurt. I could feel something crawling through my mind, skittering through my thoughts.

  "I can make you strong," The soothing voice returned.

  An image of staring at the ceiling of my old room, feeling my body weakening with each passing second.

  "You never have to fear being weak again," The voice continued, "Come, come to your mother."

  I turned my attention to an indistinct shadow looming in the void.

  "That's it child," The voice purred, "Come into my embrace, become more than you could ever dream."

  I took a step forward, then another. I was tired of fighting, tired of accepting scraps, tired of the dark looks cast at my back. Another step. Something stretched in my heart, pulling on it and creating tension. What was the point of strength if you didn't fight for it?

  I gazed at the shadow. Power given is not power earned. What was strength if you didn't fight for it? Was it still strength? Did I deserve more than what I had? Had I fought hard enough for it yet?

  I hadn't. My steps halted and I glared defiantly at the shadow who dared to call itself my mother. Teal flame ignited the void, shedding light on all that I was and the intruder who had come to tempt me away. The Brood Mother stood there in all of her hideous glory, mandibles clack and chittering.

  "How disappointing," She clacked, all pretense gone, "Now you will die like the rest. But I will give you a purpose in death," She took several steps forward, ramming her scythe-like legs into the ground, "You will provide nourishment for my brood."

  Teal flame rushed at her and she halted in her advance, confusion rippling through her many eyes before she let out a soul piercing screech. The space in my mind disappearing and thrusting my awareness back to the cathedral. I took a few steps to balance myself and swayed against an imaginary breeze.

  The Brood Mother struggled in her nest, her legs wrapping around herself while a scream assaulted my ears and mind. The egg sacs began to pulsate faster, tears appearing in some.

  I was running out of time.

  I turned my attention to the shadow as it disappeared, freeing Alaric from his psychic duel and allowing him to turn his cold hungry gaze on me. Bottomless voids stared at me, calculating, predatory. This was it, the final part of the Trial, somehow I needed to get Alaric out of here without becoming prey. Dark tendrils expanded from his body, giving him inky arms that thrashed around seeking something to latch on to.

  "Alaric," I began but was rushed by my traveling companion for the last few weeks.

  I rolled to the side barely dodging the thrashing tendrils as Alaric crashed down on my location. A beastial growl emitting from his throat at the inconvenience of my continued existence.

  He turned towards me, his body hunching slightly and tilted his head, reevaluating me. He prepared to launch himself at me again and I gave a sharp order down my mental link to my minions. I readied a shield, Harbinger forming quickly in one hand while I held Ghostfire in the other.

  He launched himself at me, I held my ground and caught his charge on the shield. He collided with it and I slid back, my boots scraping against the ground, Ghostfire igniting when I pressed it against the inside of the shield. Tendrils lashed around, leaving aching blows against my arms and legs. Cold began to seep into my body and I watched the blue bar of my mana drain with each hit. I furrowed my brow and pushed back.

  A specter materialized behind Alaric, striking him with the flat of its blade and disappearing when he turned his attention towards it. I took the opportunity and pushed Alaric off the shield, slamming it into his side and igniting the inky aura surrounding him. He roared in annoyance and pain before redoubling his efforts against me. Specters appeared, striking him and disappearing. Causing Alaric to jump back and look around like a cornered beast. The tendrils lashed about wildly, I intensified the flame, focusing on the tendrils. While they tried to put themselves out more specters appeared, striking him and slowly weakening his resolve.

  This continued for far too long. The Brood Mother recovered enough to lash out at the pair of us, legs slamming into my side and throwing me to the ground. Alaric was sent through a wall, rubble collapsing down around him.

  I scrambled back, dragging myself along the ground as the points of her legs slammed down. I needed to get up before I was impaled against the ground. Another leg came down, this one was going to hit. I tried to move faster while death came for me a third time but I wasn't going to move fast enough. One of the Winter Bound leapt in front me, catching the blow on their weapon while Castien grabbed me under the shoulders and hoisted me up. I watched in horror as the Winter Bound who had saved my life was impaled by a second leg, pale blood spurting from the wound as she was tossed to the side haphazardly. Mist claiming the corpse.

  "We need to get out of here," I said dully.

  Castien nodded his agreement.

  We both leapt to either side, sizzling webs flying towards us.

  "We'll buy you as much time as we can," Castien shouted, the Winter Bound rallying around him before they rushed the Brood Mother.

  I turned my attention to Alaric who had dug himself out of the rubble, panting heavily and staring at the Brood Mother hungrily.

  I shook my head and set my jaw, reigniting the Ghostfire around him with a carefully aimed bolt. He screamed and I let loose the Fog of Dread, obscuring the room.

  Specters launched themselves at Alaric, whittling him down until he fell to one knee. I rushed forward, wasting no time in slamming the shield against the side of his head. His unconscious form collapsing fully to the ground.

  The Specters gathered around him and hauled him up before following me in my mad dash for the exit. My shades came forward, dispatching the first spiders responding to their matron's distress. We made our way out of the cathedral and turned left, rushing towards the closest wall. I could hear the thousands of legs slamming against the ground, a stampede of arachnids rushing to their mother. We needed to hurry. The attack against my horde broke and I could feel the confusion of the remaining revenants and specters. I gave them new orders and they responded eagerly. We only dispatched a small number of the demons before we made it to the wall and hurriedly moved through the breach made by who knows what. My horde clearing the way before our arrival and I was relieved to finally see the completion of my hellish trial. And saddened to see the death notifications of my loyal winter bound.

  Congratulations on completing The Trial of the Wight.

  Bonus objective complete: Extract from the Brood Mother's nest with Alaric.

  Reward [Evolution] available. Choices rendering.

  The Specters deposited Alaric on the ground and leaned him up against the ashen husk of a tree. I took another look at him with Spectral Sight and watched the void recede from his golden orb of a soul. Tendrils lashing out in stubborn rebellion at being resisted once more.

  I stepped forward, running my fingers along the trunk of the tree and thought about my time here, what I had learned. I had accomplished something I hadn't in my previous life, I had accepted who I was. There was power there, confidence, an assurance that I could accomplish whatever I set my mind to. But that hadn't been the only thing the Trial had taught me. Learning how to work and think under pressure would be an invaluable skill in the future.

  I gazed at the Specters lining up in front of me and I smiled, these people had rendered more aid than they could possibly know. I raised my hand, prepared to honor my end of the bargain. One by one I released the Specters, some of them appeared to move forward or were claimed by some deity. There had been a flash of gold around some of them. Before long it was just my shades and I, staring at the corrupted city while waiting for the System to finalize the completion of the Trial.

  Alaric woke briefly to watch me fade from existence, or was it the other way around? I hadn't figured out if what I had experienced had been real or not. I knew too little about the circumstances. I felt the connection between my undead and I sever as I emerged into mist, four glowing orbs floating in front of me.

  Please select your Evolution reward.

  I stepped forward, a part of me missing my shades in my shadow. I would simply have to make more when I returned. I stepped up to the orb on the left, a dark void stared back at me.

  Path of the Heldari: Enjoy an immediate boost in power, all attributes raising up dramatically and specialized soul magic will be at your disposal. Can you tame the hunger of the Void?

  Select Path of the Heldari? Yes? No?

  I shook my head but before I could step away the orb reached out, giving me a glimpse of the power it offered. A horde in the thousands, no millions stood before me. The countryside burned all around us as I conquered the land. Nothing could stop me, nothing would be able to. The power coursing through me was intoxicating, and all it demanded was to be fed. A symbiotic relationship.

  I steeled my resolve and stepped away, I didn't know how Alaric's story would end with this power. But I didn't want to follow in his footsteps. This entire trial had been a warning of this power.

  The next orb was blazing inferno, I had a feeling what this one was before the System began to tell me.

  Path of the Abyssal: Corrupt your latent Celestial Bloodline and add the armies of Hell to your ranks. Destruction and domination your melody, your horde your instrument. The Abyss beckons and awaits your call.

  Corrupt my latent Celestial Bloodline? I frowned and stepped to the next orb, a blazing gold and white.

  Path of the Celestial: Awaken your heritage. You stand before the path of your birthright, the latent, cosmic power that has echoed through your very being since your second life began. This is an offer to bypass the lock Sirus placed upon your soul and immediately claim the power of the Celestials.

  I was lost for words, I had a latent Celestial Bloodline? And Sirus had locked it away from me? I thought indignation would begin to rise in my chest but I remembered the question he had asked me. And the locked ability. My bloodline was locked behind that. I stepped away, it was locked for a reason. If I still didn't understand how to answer then I didn't need that kind of power yet.

  The next orb was a blazing teal.

  Path of Self: The Dominion of the Wight. Reject external influence. Your power is your own, forged by your will, your experiences, and your unique nature as a being who walks between worlds. This is a slower, more difficult path, but it is one that is entirely yours.

  It felt like the only choice after considering the paths before me. There was no way I was going to use the Heldari or the Abyssal power offered. Neither would get me where I wanted to be. And my Celestial Bloodline was locked for a reason. If I had been given this choice before the Trial then I would've picked something else but after what I had experienced.

  Path of Self selected. Your path is your own, your power, your creation. Continue your steady slow pace to the top, power given is not power earned. Build your kingdom, and let none say the Horned King was given what you have earned.

  Evolution commencing.

  Your resolve has deepened, strengthening your connection to your class and your path.

  The world went black and I was cast out into the void, floating listlessly before opening my eyes in my tent, my body in the exact position I had left it in.

  Evolution completed.

  Attribute [Willpower] has evolved into [Dominion].