Rise of the Undead Legion - Chapter 553

Everyone on the web was pissed, the game has become rather risky to play. Conquest now is banning players for a single death, and many players rose to object against the sudden change of rules. Many had dedicated years of their lives to this game only to have their accounts permanently banned from the game as if they had wasted all their efforts for nothing.

A great deal of complaints has been pointed and directed and the administration of Conquest, but no answer came to appease the masses. Some even began filing lawsuits to regain what was theirs.

Conquest’s leadership team was in a huge jumble of problems and they had no way out of it.

In the game, more problems were happening. The calamities have managed to delete the north from the map. Buildings, shops, churches, and the main headquarters have all been turned to dust. Alfred has guided the creatures to create chaos in every way possible and has killed every NPC in the north.

The calamities soon headed toward the Devastator’s capital, raging flames of war in their path and killing any they found in their way. Towns too small abodes of estranged people. All suffered death in the hoard’s way.

The majority of the players have decided to give up and disconnect, they didn’t want to risk death at the hands of the calamities if it was going to cost them their hard-earned items. But a select few, the strongest of the bunch decided that they will stay and fight.

The players organized themselves under the leadership of Valentine and Warlord. Many others that were not from the Devastator guild have also been recruited to hold the line. The first city that the Calamities were going to hit was a fortress city by the name of Veinheim situated near the borders of the Western Kingdom.

Veinheim had great walls and was built in the middle of a great ravine that was the only passage to the West from the North. Steep hills and jagged rocks were a natural barrier for anything that would dare climb up and go beyond the fortress. So the calamities were bound to be stopped there and then.

At the front of the City gates, an army of players stood strong, waiting for further information.

Jeffery, the Mecha user was standing as the lead, and soon his cannons were rotating and preparing to fire, in front of him, a massive horde of Calamities were charging their way forward, some ran some crawled, some skittered across the ground and some were able of flight.

But thanks to the relatively narrow ravine, the calamities had to line up and go forward, a perfect target for the machine of mass destruction.

Valentine and Warlord were both atop the fortress’s gate overseeing the entirety of the battlefield.

Valentine’s order came at the moment the calamities were in fire range, “MAKE IT RAIN!”

And the machine guns rotated, Jeffery’s cannons and machine guns began showering the frontline of the calamities with so much lead and explosive rays that the sound of the march was muffled against the explosions and the rising dust.

“Mages, follow up!” Warlord gave the second order.

And the mages of the devastators rained down hell from above. The mixture of magic created elemental reactions that increase potency, and more explosions happened in the ranks of the calamities, and more death followed.

Jeffery’s guns never stopped firing and when they overheated, he switched back to the secondary artillery, shooting down the flying creatures with the help of archers and casters that had taken sniper positions.

“We’re actually doing it! Good, Good! Keep up the good work!” Satan Slayer shouted as he was among the front line of players. A great deal of tanks and guardian class were situated at the front just to stop any calamity that survived the continuous barrage from accessing the caster’s range.

Yet, even with all that firepower, some calamities managed to go beyond the artillery, surviving by either sheer luck or because another unfortunate calamity in front of it had taken the brunt of the bullets or spells.

With massive numbers as such, the death of a couple hundred or even thousands meant nothing to the calamities. They slowly pushed their way forward. Decreasing the distance between them and the fortress an inch at a time, even if many of them died, even more, were behind them to cover.

The first pervasive move happened. A calamitous being shaped like a mole with horns on its heads and claws sharp as a razor burst out from underground and amid the casters’ formation.

The retaliation from the devastator side was instant, a group of players taunted the mole and slaughtered it in minutes, but the damage had already been done, those few moments when the mole had managed to access the backline he had killed several casters, but the worst was not the death of those few players, but the passageway he created underground.

Many other calamities had followed after the mole and they began exiting through that hole, then another mole came from another side, further increasing the Devastator’s problems.

The situation began to worsen, especially since even more flying creatures came, and began picking off the players from the tower wall and dropping them to their deaths.

A cry of help echoed inside the city walls. More moles have emerged inside the city and led with them massive groups of calamities to kill off the NPCs and the players that were on standby.

“My guns are overheated! I can’t use them anymore, the enemy will start pushing harder!” Jeffery’s words came as the worst news possible. His firepower was holding off the majority of the calamities, and with it gone, the frontline will fall no doubt.

“Jeffery, switch to your laser sword,” Warlord said and the Mecha did as told.

“Valentine, go down and protect the casters, I’ll buy us a few minutes with Jeffery,” Warlord added.

“If you go down, you’ll die,” Valentine replied.

“We’re dead anyway, we don’t have the manpower to hold off everything at once. If we lose Veinheim, we lose the west.”

“If we die here, the west is one hundred percent lost! We’ll have to retreat!”

Warlord was troubled, it was true, a retreat is the best option, but with the loss of Veinheim, the enemy will have full access to the west and invade it however way they like.

“Foldback!” a loud voice echoed from the skies. Warlord looked up and it was Skelly on his dragon. And behind him were two other dragons flying at great speed.

“What the bloody hell is going on in here?” Warlord asked.

“I don’t know, but this moment deserves a Ride of the Valkyries theme song,” Valentine said as the three dragons, the Black Dragon of Terror Onixya, the Storm Bringer Joundar, and the Rock Dragon Briarvig.

Lighting struck down, chains of it like the javelins of an enraged Zeus, with pinpoint accuracy, they fell upon the calamities that were marching toward the city. Onixya shot a powerful black orb of magic that began drawing the enemies to its center and destroying any that were sucked into nothingness. The power of gravity in Onixya’s spell was great, but it was not omnipotent, some calamities managed to hold their ground and no be pushed toward her magic, but not a great deal of them survived.

As for Briarvig, the stone dragon that promised to protect the land of the West, he dropped on one of the high cliffs and roared high, the stone began reshaping itself and reformed the ravine to a completely closed off area from the city walls.

Players began rooting for Skelly and his timely needed help, shouting in overjoy as his assistance proved indispensable in this lost scenario.

“Don’t celebrate yet, this is not won. It’s just a temporary solution. Warlord, you’ll have to give up this city.”

“But with the dragons, it can be protected!” Warlord said.

Dave flew down with Onixya until he was at the same level as Warlord who was on top of the fortress’s gate.

“Do you see that?” Dave pointed at the massacre happening inside his city. “More of it will happen soon, just because we blocked the main road doesn’t mean that they won’t infiltrate; Save as many people as you can and fold back.”

“Foldback where damn it! This is the best defendable position.”

“No, not here, not in the west, I already sent orders to the South and east. We’re giving up on Conquest.”

“You’re mad! I’m not giving up on anything!” Warlord said.

“Suit yourself, I already sent all my NPCs to the Dark Threading dungeon, I’ll have all NPCs huddle up in the underworld, it’s the only place that we can protect.”

“All the NPCs?”

“Yes every one of them, every villager, monk, priest or shopkeeper, everyone, take them all and take as many resources as possible to sustain their livelihood. We can’t defend the overworld, it’s too spacious, but in the Underworld, the undead rule supreme, we have the advantage.”

“That’s too many NPCs…”

“That’s your problem, I welcome all, but if your NPCs die, this whole world dies with it. They make the soul of this game, not the monsters, it’s the people, who talk to you, ask you for assistance, sell your items, help you and give you quests. With them dead, everything else is worthless. Buildings can be rebuilt, but lives can never be recovered!” Dave said and nudged Onixya to fly up.

“Before I go,” Dave said, “The wall that Briarvig created will not last a single hit from Alfred’s spear. You have about five minutes before he gets to the frontline. Your call!”

Dave gave Onixya the order to move forward, and with Onixya leaving, the other two dragons followed.

“What are we going to do?” Valentine said.

“F.U.C.K!” Warlord shouted.

“Damn man, I can’t believe it,” Valentine said.

“That we lost? I doubt we had a chance…” Warlord said.

“No, not that, but that dungeon. It all started there, man. Our first party, and the rise of Skeletal, and probably, it is there where all will end.”

“Yeah. You’re right. We won’t be pulling our punches. This is the final stand.”

“Devastators! Retreat!” Warlord gave the command.