Apocalypse Tamer - Chapter 131: B&C Interlude: Undeadtide II

Fire. Fire and death everywhere. The town was ablaze, giants warred with cats, and Trench Dwarf 3 was digging for his life.

“Keep going!” The brave Cat Archer lived up to his title, firing arrow after arrow at the ever increasing tide of corpses battering their stronghold. “Complete the defensive line or we’re doomed!”

Trench Dwarf 3 grit his teeth, for he knew it was true. He had already lost his last remaining sibling when the northern defensive line fell. A collapse here would mean the end of his life and the death of all his comrades.

Yet no matter how quickly he dug into the earth, the distant wall he was meant to link up the trench with seemed forever out of reach. Each time he found a zombie stepping into his path, Cat Archer’s swift arrows knocked it down. Progress was slow, painful, and grueling.

But Trench Dwarf 3 did not despair. For the god of righteous war himself was watching over him from above. His armored, golden gauntlet wrestled with the undead god’s withered hand in a dance that set the sky ablaze. Lightning struck after each clash.

The world’s fate hung on this battle’s outcome.

“Here they come again!” someone shouted, his warning swiftly drowned in the bloody gargle of his death. The ghastly wail of the undead echoed across the battlefield and drew ever closer to Trench Dwarf 3’s position.

He dared to look over his tunnel’s edge and gazed upon the rotting face of death.

A shambling corpse dressed in a nobleman’s outfit rushed towards the trench, his rapier still painted red with Stonesiege Engineer’s blood. His eyes were black holes spewing darkness, and at his back were the horde of the dead and the damned.

The cursed Zombie Count himself was leading the charge!

Cat Archer paled at the sight, then readied his bow for one last stand. “Finish it, finish it, finish it!”

“Yes!” Tapping into all his remaining strength, Trench Dwarf 3 dug as he had never dug. The muscles in his arms strained from the sheer pressure of his work. Earth and stone alike bent before his will, his might, his dwarven spirit!

Until that fateful moment when his pickaxe bounced off an impregnable wall.

“Done!” Trench Dwarf 3 leaped out of his tunnel, his body sweating so profusely from exhaustion that his feet nearly slipped off. “Done, done, done!”

“Good work!” a new voice shouted from above. An ancient, one-eyed gnome in tattered robes floated down next to Trench Dwarf 3. The wooden staff in his hand glowed with magical power, but it was only half as long as the pointy hat on the newcomer’s head. “We have them now!”

“Dwarf Magician!” Cat Archer’s feline face morphed into a triumphant expression. “As always, you arrive in the nick of time!”

Trench Dwarf 3’s smile didn’t last longer than a second, for he immediately felt a fetid breath flowing upon his neck. He turned his head to see Zombie Count glaring at him on the other side of the trench. The rift was too large for the foul monster to jump over, so he swiftly turned his attention on the nearby wall.

“We must combine our powers to bring him down!” Dwarf Magician raised his scepter. Flames flickered at the tip. “Let us clear the path!”

Cat Archer readied his bow for the final slaughter. “May your aim be true, wizard!”

“Fireball!” Dwarf Magician’s words were echoed by the crackling of magical flames. Trench Dwarf 3 leaped to the side as his friend unleashed a crimson sphere of raw magic. “Return to the Hell you crawled from, vile specters!”

Dwarf Magician’s projectile exploded in the zombie’s midst and annihilated three of them in a single strike. The explosion illuminated the night like the dawn set the sky ablaze. The magical fire consumed part of the count’s tattered clothes and boiled what remained of his pallid skin, but failed to bring him down for good.

That was the cue Cat Archer was waiting for. “Flanking attack!”

He let loose a single arrow faster than lightning. The projectile pierced through the air with a booming sound before impacting the Zombie Count’s skull. Such was the strength of the blow, that the arrow continued its course afterward while carrying the head with it.

The dreaded Zombie Count’s corpse fell into the trench, never to rise again.

“It is done…” Trench Dwarf 3 could hardly believe his eyes. His heart pulsed like a drum as he rose back to his feet. “You got him!”

“The battle isn’t over yet,” Cat Archer said morosely, before swiftly interrogating Dwarf Magician. “What of Inferno King Surtr? Has he been dealt with?”

“Our Shieldmasters pinned him between the trenches and the river,” Dwarf Magician replied, smiling at Trench Dwarf 3. “Your brother’s masterwork protects us even in death.”

Trench Dwarf 3 graciously accepted the compliment, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be happy. Not even victory would make up for the gruesome death of his brethren. He could only pray their god would welcome them in his Inventory heaven, so that they might fight forevermore.

“Very well.” Cat Archer raised a paw towards their new destination. “We shall retreat north and reinforce the front–”

A flash of steel silenced him forever.

The projectile moved so fast that Trench Dwarf 3 didn’t even see it in action. The result, however, was unmistakable: Cat Archer’s throat split open at the jugular and sprayed out a fountain of blood. The commander collapsed dead in the ashes of his many foes.

“C-Commander!” Dwarf Magician choked in surprise and immediately moved to the archer’s side in a vain attempt to save. Too late. His death had been instantaneous. “Commander!”

Trench Dwarf 3 froze in terror. The death was sudden, brutal, and most importantly, far too familiar.

A dagger, Trench Dwarf 3 realized upon identifying the projectile still nailed in the ground. No… it’s him…

“Got you, kitty.”

The killer appeared atop a pile of burning stones and towered over both dwarves. Bandages reddened by all the blood he had shed covered every inch of his skinless, rotting body. He was as gaunt as he was tall, with the quickness of a panther and an appetite for death to match. His single yellow eye gleamed with bloodlust.

Trench Dwarf 3’s hold on his pickaxe tightened. His throat swelled with rage as he called out the murderer’s name. “Mummy Assassin!”

“Ohoh?” The cruel undead’s dagger instantly teleported back to his hand. “You know me?”

“You’ve killed my little brother.” Trench Dwarf 3 grit his teeth, his soul heavy with loss and regrets. “And your wyvern-riding pal murdered the other!”

“I’ve slain so many dwarves today, but I think I know the one you’re speaking off. He died begging for his life.” The assassin flashed a ghastly grin as he raised his bloody dagger. “Like an elf.”

“You bastard…” Trench Dwarf 3 trembled with such anger that he nearly broke his own pickaxe. “Kisama…”

“No, he’s baiting you!” Dwarf Magician shouted in alarm. “Don’t–”

But Trench Dwarf 3 did not listen. The flames around him didn’t burn half as bright as the brasier of revenge within his heart.

“On my honor as a dwarf, on my brothers’ name!” Trench Dwarf 3 raised his pickaxe and charged. “I shall slay you where you stand, villain!”

“Ohoh! So bold!” Mummy Assassin gathered momentum to throw his dagger. “And so very dead!”

Trench Dwarf 3 knew he had no chance. The Mummy Assassin was quicker, deadlier, stronger. Yet he charged without fear, for it was in the face of death that one’s bravery showed.

Oh just god of war, he prayed in his heart, guide my arm!

God answered his prayer with a bullet of justice to the spine.

The sound of a gunshot echoed across the battlefield, swiftly followed by a hole opening in Mummy Assassin’s chest. The undead was as surprised as his foe. “A flanking attack?!”

The wound was small, but the distraction was enough for Dwarf Magician to capitalize upon. The sorcerer pointed his staff at the undead and blasted his dagger off his hand; leaving him wide open.

Trench Dwarf 3 raised his pickaxe and gazed upon the face of his nemesis. His lone eye was stark open in abject terror. When you killed my brother, did he look as frightened as you?

“Curse you,” Mummy Assassin snarled, his hand desperately grasping towards his fallen dagger. “Curse you, dwarf–”

Trench Dwarf 3 split his head open with his pickaxe. The monster’s shattered skull fell into pieces upon the bloodsoaked earth.

And Trench Dwarf 3 roared to the heavens.

“Thanks to my Duergar Sharpshooter and Dwarf Magician, Trench Dwarf’s power rises to five through the magic of Flanking!” Basil flipped over the Mummy Assassin miniature, bringing Walter’s commanders down to his Dullahan Duke. “Another one bites the dust!”

By now, the lightning generated by their power had turned into a thunderstorm. A circling wall of wind had risen inside Walter’s shop, throwing priceless artifacts and magical items around. Hagen relied on his shield not to stumble back, while Shellgirl and Vasi hid in a protective bubble of air summoned by the latter’s magic.

Yet no matter how strong the storm raged, no miniature fell off the board. All of them were held together by the players’ iron wills.

“All that’s left is your Dullahan Duke, while I still have my Rockfairy and Duergar Witchmatrone!” Basil boasted. Though his frail human body was covered in wounds and his clothes drenched in blood, his chest puffed in triumph. “You should give up now while you can, Walter!”

“Oh Basil, you fail to see that my actions were only meant to stall for time,” Walter replied with a smug, evil smirk. “For now that I have seized enough forts and brought Fly Lord to my Vampire Ratking, I finally have enough resources to summon the game’s most powerful unit!”

Walter summoned his ultimate miniature.

“Come forth, oh B&C king!” Walter slammed the board with enough strength to start a board earthquake. “I summon thee, Nidhogg!”

He would call forth the night and drown the world in darkness.

“Sir, Mummy Assassin and Zombie Count have both been destroyed!“ His minion Fly Lord buzzed in alarm. A humanoid fly dressed a nobleman, his filthy stench was only matched by his cowardice. “We should retreat!”

“You want us to disgrace ourselves before our deity, coward?!” As the mightiest of the undead god’s commanders, Dullahan Duke towered above his soldiers… even while missing a head. Screaming faces morphed on the surface of his blackened armor. Such was the fate of all those who dared to stand in his way. “In our moment of triumph?!”

The Dullahan Duke oversaw the battlefield from atop his fort under his dark god’s gaze. All the pieces were in place. Three zombies surrounded the Vampire Ratking and would soon serve as kindling for the final fire.

Only one more element was required. “Fly Lord.”

His minion straightened up. “Yes, my duke?”

“Though your resolve was weak, you have served our god well,” Dullahan Duke said calmly. “I regret what I am about to do.”

It was a lie… but why speak ill of the dead?

“Ugh?” Fly Lord buzzed in confusion. “Sir, I don’t understand–”

Dullahan Duke drew his sword of eldritch flames and cut down his minion where it stood. Fly Lord spurted blood as he gazed upon his bloody chest, before falling off the fort. Vampire Ratking immediately moved on to devour him alongside the zombies. From his gesticulations, the bug was still alive as the vermin bit into his soft flesh.

Crimson mist gathered among the thunderclouds. A ghastly wind swirled and extinguished the flames near the Duke’s fort. The rivers of blood shed by friends and foes alike gathered into a sinister lake.

The Dullahan Duke shuddered in dread and anticipation as a mighty, castle-sized colossus arose from the lake of blood. The mere sight of the beast would drive the living mad and inspire fear in the heart of the dead. Each of its white scales was a screaming human face. Its wings were made of bones, its feathers of raging souls. When its crimson eyes opened above three rows of fangs longer than spears, the beast let out a shriek that shattered even the thickest stone.

It was a winged serpent alright. A serpent of death and destruction, whose hunger knew no bound!

“The ritual is complete!” Dullahan Duke allowed himself a dark laugh of triumph. “Oh lord of chaos, devour the light and call forth the eternal night!”

The world’s end came for all!

Calamity Nidhogg, Forever Serpent

Cost: 15

Range: 5 (Targets all units within 3×3 tiles)

Move: 2 (Foot/Flight/Dig/Swim)

Pow/Def: +20/+20

Ouroboros: Immediately returns from the dead after being destroyed; this ability cannot be negated in any way.

“T-Twenty?!” Shellgirl shouted upon seeing the miniature’s stats. “Twenty power?!”

“This is the powerful B&C miniature!” Hagen confirmed, gleeful at his employer’s now inevitable victory. “Look! Reality itself bends around it!”

Space cracked around the Nidhogg miniature. Eldritch purple light gathered in its mouth as it turned its head towards one of Basil’s last two commanders. Between its enormous range and area of effect attack, no one was safe from its wrath.

“I shall now destroy your Rockfairy and all troops around her!” Walter ordered. “Carry this pain with you to oblivion, Basil!”

His rival grit his teeth and braced himself for impact. The Nidhogg miniature opened its mouth and unleashed a magical bombardment upon nine tiles across the board. Basil’s Rockfairy, three Deepstone Archers, and one Shieldmaster were summarily vaporized.

And their pain instantly reflected upon their controller.

Basil screamed in agony as new festering marks joined the cohort of wounds ruining his skin. A gulf of darkness split across his ribcage, exposing his left lung for all to see. Blood shed from his veins immediately took on a foul purple hue before they even touched the ground.

“Stop!” Vasi pleaded. “You’re killing him!”

“I won’t let him die yet,” Walter whispered darkly. “But if you wish to end the pain, Basil, all you have to do… is forfeit.”

Two icy eyes glared back at him. The sheer intensity in his foe’s gaze gave Walter pause. Basil looked more dead than his zombies, and yet he remained steadfast in the face of annihilation.

“Forfeit?” Basil scoffed. So weak was he that needed to grab the table with his hand not to fall off his chair. “Foolish Walter, this is the moment I’ve dreamed about… the moment you lost this duel.”

“Nonsense.” Walter snorted, though his cold dead heart wavered with doubt. “No one can save you now. You don’t have the resources to summon any unit capable of resisting my Nidhogg, let alone destroy it!”

“You forget Rockfairy’s secondary effect,” Basil replied. “She reduces the cost of summoning units by one… and when she dies, I can summon a unit with a cost of five or less for free.”

He raised his shivering hand and placed another miniature on the board.

“I summon another Dwarf Catapult next to my first,” Basil rasped. “Both are now close to my Duergar Witchmatrone… and I shall follow through by using my resources to call on two more units!”

“Two or two hundred, it makes no difference,” Walter replied calmly. Basil’s bluff had fallen on deaf ears. “I fear nothing.”

“Let’s put that boast to the test, shall we?” Basil smirked. “I call upon Dwarfenstein!”

Walter thought he had misheard for a moment, until the dreaded miniature appeared on the board next to the catapults. The figurine was small, a mere dwarf with a lab coat and glasses, yet its nightmarish grin inspired great dread in the necromancer’s heart.

Dwarfenstein

Cost: 3

Range: 1

Move: 4 (Foot)

Pow/Def: +1/+1

Deadjack: When one of your opponent’s units would be revived from the grave, you can take control of it. You can only Deadjack one unit, and you lose control of it if Dwarfenstein is removed from the board.

“Impossible!” Walter refused to believe his own eyes, even though they detected no illusions. This effect was one of a kind. “I have purged the multiverse of the miniature!”

“All except this one… which is why I hid it from you.” Basil coughed blood. “You see, Walter, you believe I’ve only learned you were a B&C veteran player a few hours ago, but in truth… I’ve known it since the day we met.”

“You’re bluffing,” Walter replied with a frown. “I–”

“Would have read my mind?” Basil chuckled darkly. “Do you remember the healing potion I took halfway through our duel?”

Walter’s eyes widened as he figured it out. “No…”

“It healed me alright.” Basil’s bloody smile turned into a ghastly smirk. “I knew that you would try to read my mind at one point, Walter, and knowing your necromantic sensibilities, you would immediately try to preemptively get rid of my Dwarfenstein miniature. It is, after all, a hard counter to any undead army. So I hid it in my inventory and asked Vasi to brew an amnesia potion. I erased my plan from my mind until I needed to pull it off!”

Walter and Shellgirl both looked at Vasi in shock. “Is it true?” the latter asked. “Did you… did you feed him an amnesia potion?”

“Unfortunately.” Vasi rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh. “It’s not the weirdest favor he asked of me.”

“Then the healing potion you took…” Walter clenched his fists in rage. “It was an antidote! This damage transfer rule–”

“Was a ploy meant to deceive you,” Basil confirmed. “If I had drunk this potion out of the blue, you would have become suspicious of me. So I set you up for a fall!”

He planned this treachery from the very beginning. Walter’s amazement at Basil’s cunning was only matched by his anger at being deceived. This fearless bastard tricked me…

“That changes nothing,” Walter hissed. “Even if you can take over my Nidhogg, you would need to destroy it first. I would like to see you try.”

“You will see me succeed,” Basil said as he placed a new miniature upon the board. “For there won’t be a next turn!”

Basil spent his last resources to summon a new dwarf unit right next to his catapults: a small, bearded humanoid wearing a belt of explosives.

Dwarf Philosopher

Cost: 2

Range: 1

Move: 4 (Foot)

Pow/Def: +1/+0

For a Just Cause: Can sacrifice itself to destroy all adjacent units, regardless of their defense.

Walter’s blood froze in his veins. “Too far,” he said, grasping at straws. “My Nidhogg is ten spaces away. You will never reach it even with a catapult’s help.”

“Chief…” Hagen’s glee turned to sorrow. He had seen something his employer did not. “It’s already over.”

Walter frowned in confusion… until Basil made his move.

“I use my first Dwarf Catapult,” he said, “to propel the second five spaces closer to your Nidhogg.”

Walter’s eyes widened in alarm as a dwarf catapult was flung halfway across the battlefield. The necromancer immediately recognized the unit for it was.

A link in a chain.

“I follow through by using my Duergar Witchmatrone’s Refreshing Brew on my first catapult, which can now fire again.” Basil grabbed his Dwarf Philosopher. “I use the first catapult to throw my suicide bomber at the second, which will then fire him again five spaces forward!”

Walter could only watch as the tool of his destruction was flung across the board.

As Dwarf Philosopher climbed into the catapult, he looked up to the sky one last time. The golden hand of the war god shone brightly in the darkness like a beacon of hope. Even in the bleakest of time can one find comfort in the fortress of faith.

“Is it death that gives life meaning?” Dwarf Philosopher pondered out loud. There was never a better time to confront the universe’s secrets than when it threatened to end. “Are we born for the purpose of dying? Do things need to be finite to have a point? Is that the curse of free-will, that we must find our own answers before our time draws near? Or is it true that mortals have no control, not even over their destiny? All I know…”

He gathered his breath as he reached his final conclusion.

“Is that I know nothing!”

In the end, it mattered not to him. Some would say that a good death was passing away of old age in a bed. Dwarf Philosopher begged to differ.

A good death was one without regret after a life well-lived.

The moment and method did not matter. Dwarf Philosopher’s existence on this board had been short, but well-spent. He left behind no remorse, no unachieved task, no dream left unfulfilled. His death would follow the same principles.

The great pale serpent opened his mouth to roar at him. Such was its height that its wings cast a shadow over the entire battlefield. Countless heroes had fled in the face of this behemoth, this apocalypse engine.

Not Dwarf Philosopher. The catapult threw him across the air straight into the monster’s jaws.

He would not falter, even in the face of hell itself!

“Let this be my last words!” Dwarf Philosopher lit his belt’s fuse mid-flight. “The future of dwarfkin… is brighter than the stars!”

Fire engulfed him, and all became light.

A hole opened on Basil’s chest as his unit self-destructed.

He knew he would bear his soldier’s death on his flesh and conscience, but he soldiered on all the same. Victory excused everything.

Walter too shared his miniature’s pain. He felt the flames licking his flesh and the sheer overwhelming weight of the enemy’s fighting spirit. But when his prized Nidhogg rose from the dead, it was no longer under his control. The beast he had sacrificed so much to summon now obeyed another.

And his last commander was within its attack range.

I can’t do anything. Walter scanned the board in search of a last-ditch contingency in his panic. He found none. I can’t do anything!

The impossible had happened.

Walter Tye was about to lose at Board & Conquest.

“Walter.”

Walter locked eyes with his opponent.

“You must seem like a master player to most… but to me?” Basil’s hand moved across the board. “You are nothing more…”

He flipped Dullahan Duke over.

“Than a filthy casual.”

Dullahan Duke watched on with grim pleasure as Nidhogg rose anew.

He had to admit that this dwarf had guts. He had managed to blow the pale serpent’s head off like a chicken. It had all been for nothing, of course, but at least he had died a martyr. It was more than all the dwarves could expect once Nidhogg was done slaughtering them.

“The age of dwarves is over,” Dullahan Duke boasted as Nidhogg fully regenerated. “The age of the undead has begun–”

The great serpent had turned its head in the Duke’s direction.

“What?” The undead commander’s surprise turned to horror as his master’s greatest servant opened its mouth. “No, no, no!”

Already the Vampire Ratking and other vermin scampered off in panic. No matter how fast they fled, it made no difference. The great Nidhogg’s dark breath swallowed all.

“It’s impossible!” Duke Dullahan raised a defiant sword, unable to accept the truth. “I refuse to die until I have accomplished the will of my god!”

The darkness he had so fervently worshiped vaporized him in an instant.

For those who live by evil’s laws, by evil deeds shall perish!

The final attack threw Walter across the room.

The thunderstorm summoned into the room violently cleared off with the sound of fingersnap. The accumulated energy unleashed a shockwave that overturned chairs, shelves and everything not nailed down to the floor. Hagen stumbled while Vasi’s forcefield cracked like glass. It was a testament to her skills that it held at all.

When the wind died down at last, only the board table stood intact. Basil Bohen had collapsed on it, barely hanging on to life.

“Chief?” Hagen immediately rushed to his employer’s side. “Are you all right?”

“I am fine, Hagen.” Walter’s physical wounds were already healing on their own. He couldn’t say the same for the mental ones. “I… I have lost fair and square.”

It hurt to say these words, and yet… and yet Walter felt an odd sense of gratefulness as he uttered them. He glanced at the board table.

Basil’s hand was grasping the Nidhogg figurine he had bet so much to win.

Walter was furious at his loss. His pride demanded retribution, which he would earn at the gaming table. But in a way, he was thankful. Walter had been reminded that for all of his power, he could still lose.

I think I understand your resolve now, Basil. It was the same Walter once possessed, before too many victories lulled him into a false sense of complacency. You have reminded me what true strength is… the way only a friend could.

Basil Bohen would become Overgod. Walter no longer doubted it.

“Well, this was a colossal waste of time.” Vasi dusted off her robes. “Can we go back to saving the world, please?”