The next hour passed quickly.
Making good use of the time, I experimented with the flying serpent, getting a feel for where the limits of its understanding lay.
Anything beyond the most basic of commands was beyond the creature’s ability to comprehend. Still, it understood enough that I was certain I could get it to do what was needed.
The others watched me with a mixture of amusement and apprehension. But despite Adriel’s earlier remarks, I sensed their confidence growing as the hour passed. They were starting to believe—as I did—that we could do this.
That we could truly slay the overlord.
And beyond that, vanquish the void tree itself.
“It’s time,” I said, rising to my feet and popping a crystal.
You have activated a scent concealment crystal.
The others nodded solemnly.
Bounding forward, I leapt onto the serpent’s back. While my perch was not exactly comfortable, the creature had grown used to my weight and did not protest.
“I’ll wait for you to begin your assault before starting my own approach,” I said to Adriel and Safyre.
In the midst of a casting, the lich nodded absently.
“Good luck,” Safyre added.
“To you as well,” I replied, drawing stamina in readiness.
Adriel has created a ley line to a secondary location in sector 18,240.
You have cast vanish.
“Forward,” I whispered, tightening my grip as the serpent snaked forward.
The others, watching silently, waved me on as the flying serpent—alone and unaccompanied by all appearances—returned to the mist-filled world above.
Transfer through portal commencing…
…
…
? ? ?
Passage completed!
The moment we passed through the luminous doorway, the flying serpent snapped open its wings, the reaction likely an instinctive one to finding itself midair and three hundred feet above ground.
“Wow,” I murmured, luxuriating in the sensation of flying, even if it was in a nether-filled sky.
“It worked?” Safyre asked.
“It did,” I laughed. “I’m flying!”
“Hmpf,” Ghost groused from inside the Cloak. “I don’t see what the big deal is. This looks dangerous.”
I chuckled. “You’re just jealous you can’t experience this for yourself,” I retorted as the stygian glided through the air, borne upward by unseen air currents.
“Adriel wants to know if there are any stygians about?” Shael asked in a tone devoid of humor. This, I gathered, was the bard’s first major battle and dread and anticipation filled his mindvoice in equal measure.
Before responding, I scanned the skies a second time, verifying what I’d already ascertained. We were alone. By design, Adriel’s portal had deposited us five miles south of the nether portal, far enough away that neither the overlord nor its escorts could spot the lone serpent winging through the air.
“There’s nothing nearby,” I confirmed.
“Good,” Safyre replied. “Then we’ll begin.”
Saying nothing, I angled my mount northward, using a combination of words and gestures to convey my instructions. The entire time, I kept my gaze fixed on the ground, watching and waiting.
A few seconds later, an expectant glimmer appeared—about three miles south of the overlord and just outside of what I judged to be the limit of the Power’s awareness.
“I see you,” I murmured as the party emerged through the portal.
They didn’t respond, but I saw their defenses go up—starting with Adriel’s black dome, followed by Safyre’s purifying field. My gaze flickered back north. “No movement from the stygians yet,” I reported.
“When should I begin?” Shael asked anxiously.
“As soon as Adriel and Safyre give you the word,” I replied.
“Go,” Safyre ordered. “We’re ready.”
The bard did not respond verbally, but a second later, a strange sound filled the air.
The notes of a song.
And one undoubtedly foreign to the stygians.
Shael has begun playing Shaten’s Call to War. You have been inspired (+15% to all attributes). Duration: infinite. The buff will remain in effect as long as the song can be heard.
Note, this song cannot be resisted. All entities who hear it will be affected. Allies will be inspired, and enemies will demoralized (-15% to all attributes). If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The buff conferred by Shael’s song was nice, but that was not its true purpose. The music itself was. My gaze drifted back to the nether portal.
A dozen flying serpents had already taken flight, leaving their perch on the overlord. The rest of the flock were not far behind either. I smiled.
The stygians had taken the bait.
“You have incoming,” I reported. “A hundred flying serpents, maybe.”
“We’ll handle it,” Safyre said. “Just make sure you stick to their outskirts. We don’t want to strike you by accident.”
“You won’t,” I replied confidently and urged my mount onward.
We had a battle to join.
? ? ?
The flying serpents swooped down on the party from up high.
They uttered no sounds. Not even an errant hiss escaped the flock. And with their wings furled as they dropped, the serpents made for silent and deadly missiles. Only the telltale whoosh of air gave warning of their approach, but that, too, went unheard, washed over by the notes of Shael’s song.
It would’ve been the perfect ambush—ordinarily.
Instead, courtesy of me watching from afar, the party got regular updates on the flock’s movements. And so, in the end, it was the flying serpents who were ambushed.
Waiting until nearly the last minute, Safyre and Adriel unleashed their spells when the leading edge of the flock closed to within thirty feet.
Adriel has cast noxious vapors.
Safyre has cast furious storm.
Adriel has cast death’s finger.
Safyre has devilish winds.
Predictably, the flying serpents failed to avoid the storm of spells, and death and destruction began to rain down amongst them.
A level 153 flying serpent has died.
A level 140 flying serpent has died.
…
Shael, meanwhile, kept up his music. Only Anriq stood by idly. With no ranged attacks of his own, he was forced to stand aside and watch the rest of the party deal with the threat.
I, too, did not participate.
Making sure not to descend too far, I gently eased my mount into the upper reaches of the flock, a part, yet apart, of the whole. “I’m almost in position,” I reported to Anriq, who for lack of anything better to do was acting as the party’s communications officer.
The werewolf’s face turned skyward. “I’ve lost track. Which one are you?”
“You see the circling trio? I’m the one drifting toward them.”
“Ah. Got you now.” He paused. “Is it time?”
“No. I want to get closer first.” My next test was a fairly simple one. If the other flying serpents sensed aught amiss, then the plan was a bust and we’d have to return to the drawing board.
Urging my mount on, I swept closer to the other stygians.
Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you.
Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you.
…
My satisfaction grew. None of the serpents were reacting to my invisible presence, nor did any of them seem to realize the stygian I rode was blood-bound.
“The plan’s working,” I reported.
“Outstanding,” Anriq growled.
I ran a practiced gaze over the flock. Only half their number remained. In just a few short seconds, Adriel and Safyre had wreaked untold destruction on the serpents. The battle had been—and remained—completely one-sided. Despite striking Adriel’s shield multiple times, the stygians looked no closer to breaking through the lich’s defenses.
Shaking my head in silent appreciation of our spellcasters’ efforts, I refocused on Anriq. “It’s time. Break off.”
“I’ll inform the others,” he replied. “Do we retreat all the way?”
“Yes. Go back to the cave. I’ve got it from here.”
The werewolf didn’t reply, but I saw his head drop as he turned to the others. A moment later, a portal opened inside the black dome, and moving unhurriedly, the party withdrew from the field of battle.
A few seconds after that, the portal, black dome, and purifying field vanished, leaving me alone on the surface with forty-odd unhappy stygians.
? ? ?
The serpents did not depart the area immediately.
Hissing angrily, they sniffed at the ground, upturned loose rocks and even dug up the soil in search of the party. Their dead companions, they ignored completely.
Content to wait, I kept my own mount circling aimlessly. None of the other serpents seemed the least bothered by its presence.
Eventually, though, the stygians broke off their fruitless search, their heads jerking up near-simultaneously as if in response to an unheard command.
“Interesting,” I mused.
“What is?” Safyre asked from the cave.
“The flying serpents just received a telepathic order,” I replied as all the stygians still on the ground pushed themselves into the air. “I suspect the overlord has recalled them.”
“What about your mount?” Anriq asked. “Did it react in any way to the order?”
“Nope. My control appears absolute.” Leaning low, I whispered a command into the stygian’s ear. “Follow.”
Turning about, the stygian obediently winged after its former companions, just another flying serpent in the flock.
We were on our way.
? ? ?
In an amazingly short span of time, the flock reached their destination.
Which, just like I’d suspected, was the overlord.
I held myself still, barely breathing, as we approached the colossal Power. It hung motionless in the air, almost a planet unto itself.
From this angle, the overlord’s sheer size could not be ignored. The thing was truly immense. Hells, on foot, it would probably take me hours to circle its rim.
No wonder few overlords ever fall in battle, I thought. This close to the thing, I could believe it. And for a moment—just a moment—the idea of us felling such a creature seemed absurd.
But no more absurd than bringing down the harbinger. Or Sunfury. Or the archlich.
We’ll do it because we must.
Tearing my gaze away from the looming overlord, I studied the two coiled nagas beneath. It was hard to fathom what the pair were thinking, but judging from their body posture, they sensed nothing amiss.
My eyes rose again to the surrounding mists. Interestingly enough, the thickened plume from below did not reach this high, and the nether toxicity in the vicinity remained at tier four.
At least there is that much to be grateful for, I thought as we entered the overlord’s orbit.
Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you.
The flying serpents began landing. Back flapping, they braked midair and, one by one, touched down lightly onto the overlord’s pockmarked surface.
Then it was my mount’s turn.
Bracing myself, I readied psi. Despite all the preparations and guesswork, there was no telling what would happen next. Would the overlord be able to sense me when I was mere inches away? What about when I dropped off the serpent and walked on its surface?
It sounded ludicrous that it wouldn’t.
But Adriel had said the creature lacked a nervous system. The overlord’s shell was for all intents and purposes… nonliving. Dead hide, nothing more. It should make no difference if I walked atop it.
But should didn’t always translate into would.
Time to find out if all of this was for naught, I thought, urging my mount forward.