Talia scuttled backwards like a crab, desperate to avoid the enormous scythe slicing down at her. She narrowly succeeded, scrambling back to her feet just in time to dodge a horizontal slash. The monster didn’t stop, its stamina seemingly endless as it aimed one devastating attack after another at her. Red blood and green-tinged ichor stained the blade, a warning of just how deadly the encounter was.

Clad in a black robe with a deep hood that covered its rotting visage, the nine-foot tall monster was a reaper. With that poison-coated blade, it had already slain two members of the party – both healers – and it had been coming at Talia with reckless abandon ever since. For the first time in her life, Talia was glad that she’d deviated from the accepted norm and allocated points into her physical stats. Otherwise, she’d have been defenseless against the undead monster. As it was, she used everything she had to avoid being cut open by the thing’s scythe.

If only she’d had some sort of attack skill, she could’ve done something – anything – other than try to survive the encounter. Springing to the side, she closed with the rest of the party, pulsing [Circle of Mending] as soon as they came into range. Shallow wounds healed, invigorating the warriors.

“Help!” she cried, ducking under another scythe. “I can’t keep dodging forever!”

One of the warriors – a woman wearing a chainmail coat and wielding a huge axe – turned toward Talia. That was a fatal mistake. One of the zombies that had been attacking the rest of the group saw the opening and, with a swipe of its powerful, talon-like claws, ripped her throat out. Even as blood and pieces of flesh splattered into Talia’s face, the woman fell. Talia used [Circle of Mending] again, but the damage was too severe. She knew that the moment the zombie had attacked. But she had to try, useless as the attempt may be.

That brief distraction was all the opening the reaper needed, and an instant after the warrior went down, a line of fire cut into her back. She screamed in agony, the poisoned scythe already eating at her flesh. Instinctively, she cast [Purify] on herself, halting its progress even as she tumbled to the ground.

Untold hours of practice with Master Silas proved their worth as she turned her fall into a graceful roll, casting [Purify] again as she found her feet. Pulsing [Circle of Mending], Talia felt the laceration on her back knitting itself back together. One cast wouldn’t completely heal her, but it would at least close the gaping wound.

All around her was chaos. The entire party was in disarray. Men and women who’d been whole and confident only hours before were dead and dying as hundreds of zombies, dozens of reapers, and a handful of flesh golems descended upon them. The attack had come without warning, the zombies tearing themselves out of the ground all around the party of adventurers. The two healers and a couple of warriors had been killed before anyone even knew what was happening, and the battle had only gotten worse from there.

Even as Talia put some distance between herself and the reaper, a blindingly white light descended from the sky, burning everything within a seven-foot radius centered around the reaper. The monster, so terrifying only a moment before, melted into nothingness, taking a handful of zombies with it. Talia gaped at the puddle of ichor and melted flesh that had very nearly killed her.

A bone chilling scream jerked her attention back to the battle. The chaos had deepened, but there were signs that her party members were slowly getting things back under control. A line of warriors were holding the zombies at bay while a pair of scouts peppered the bigger targets with arrow-based skills. Myriad lights erupted into being as the warriors used one skill after another, filling the dusky sky with a rainbow of colors.

And at the center of it all was Abdul, glowing with white light and twice as big as normal. The bearded man’s white-enameled plate armor gleamed as he laid waste to zombies and reapers alike. Even as he cut the lesser undead apart, another beam of white light descended from the sky to crash into a flesh golem. Stitched together from a pile of disparate parts, the unholy abomination was twelve-feet tall and half as wide – a true monster if ever there was one. The creature faltered, falling to its knees. Its skin boiled, steaming ichor erupting in geysers from its seams. It let out a pitiful wail that shook the crumbling ruins around them.

But it endured.

When Abdul’s skill ended, the monster looked like melted wax. Its deathly white skin was stained with green-tinted ichor, and when it rose, it wobbled in place. But rise, it did. Talia instinctively inspected it.

Greater Flesh Golem – Level 25 (B)

A boss monster! The other golems were elites, well within Abdul’s capabilities. He was the most powerful paladin in the world, after all. But no one fought bosses alone. And given that the rest of the party was either engaged in their own battles, dead, or too low of a level to make a difference, Abdul would get no help. Not unless Talia could get to him. She might be weak and underleveled, but her heal could make all the difference. She hoped. Otherwise, the abomination would kill them all.

Talia sprang into action, darting past the line of warriors. As she went, she activated her [Circle of Mending], then, sensing the undead contagion, she used [Purify] on a tall, thin man who was barely holding one of the reapers off with his spear. It wasn’t strictly necessary – the man wouldn’t turn anytime soon. But the disease would slow him as it necrotized his flesh. And given that [Purify] cost very little of her mana, she saw no reason not to cast it.

The party was capable, cutting down zombies and reapers with ruthless efficiency. Being elites, the lesser flesh golems were more difficult to bring down, but so long as the group concentrated their skills, it was possible. The real danger came from the half-melted boss closing the gap with Abdul.

The paladin was an avatar of wrath as he cut through the lesser monsters, his shining sword parting undead flesh with ease. His shield, decorated with the golden sun of his goddess, blocked the vast majority of the monsters’ attacks, but still, some got through. Claws raked against his armor, finding little purchase even as Abdul continued his workmanlike decimation of their ranks.

Until the greater flesh golem arrived.

It barreled into Abdul’s enhanced form, and the paladin raised his shield to intercept the monster’s attack. Where it made contact, undead flesh sizzled. The flesh golem shrieked in agony as Abdul leaned into the monster’s charge. But as strong as the paladin was, the flesh golem was immense, and its momentum was all but unstoppable. A ton of force crashed into him, buckling his knees and sending him tumbling backward. The flesh golem didn’t stop. It wouldn’t. Not until its enemy was dead.

It loomed over Abdul, yanking a giant, bone spike from its torso. Ichor sprayed all over Abdul’s gleaming armor. Stunned, he didn’t even react as the spike descended. Talia shouted, but it did little good. The spike, still dripping that disgusting ichor, fell with all the considerable force the monster could muster. It cut through Abdul’s armor with ease, exploding into his chest with the sound of rent steel and a fountain of blood.

“No!” Talia screamed, finally coming into range. She pulsed one [Circle of Mending] after another, praying that she wasn’t too late. Abdul was insanely durable, but he couldn’t survive a destroyed heart. No one could. Sensing the already-spreading corruption, she cast [Purify], arresting the undead infection.

Then, the golem noticed her.

Talia skidded to a stop, the monster’s gaze seizing her muscles. She couldn’t move. She didn’t breathe. She could barely even think. All she knew was fear, an instinctive knowledge that she was under the eyes of a predator so far above her that her only hope was to go unnoticed. That hope was dashed a second later when the monster took a thundering step toward her.

From somewhere, Talia heard a scream, and it took her a long moment to realize that it came from her own mouth. She pulsed [Circle of Mending] again, the skill purely instinctive. Talia hardly even realized she’d used it.

Another step. The flesh golem’s melted wax skin had begun to harden, the once-dripping ichor staining it a mottled black-green on pale white. Its face was brutish, with a heavy brow, jagged, uneven teeth, and beady eyes that bore into her very soul. She screamed again, desperately trying to force herself to move. To run away. To attack. Anything but just standing still like livestock.

She failed, and the monster took another, unhurried step forward.

There was basic intelligence in the monster’s beady eyes. Cruelty. It chilled Talia to the bone. Its nightmarish mouth gaped open, and even from six or seven feet away, the scent of decay was overwhelming. Talia fell to her knees, unable to withstand the golem’s horrific aura any longer.

She was going to die. That much was absolutely clear. With Abdul down, their only hope was to run. It didn’t matter if the rest of the warriors dealt with the zombies, reapers, and lesser golems. None could stand before the boss.

Especially Talia.

Never before had she felt so useless. She couldn’t even stand before the reaper, much less a monster two tiers its superior.

The golem cocked back its spike-like weapon. Dripping ichor and blood, and with Abdul’s flesh still clinging to its imperfections, it loomed over her. Talia stared at it, hoping only that it would be quick.

The spike descended, Talia’s impending death stretching each second to its limits. She desperately hammered her willpower against the monster’s oppressive aura, but it was like banging her fists against a brick wall. Even if she managed to do some damage, the integrity of the wall would remain unchanged. Such was the power of the golem’s willpower. Talia was helpless before it.

Still, she managed to hold her head high as she awaited her death.

It never came.

When the spike was only inches away, a white-and-gold shield crashed into it, followed by a blazing sword that detached the monster’s arm altogether. Suddenly, the weight of the monster’s aura sloughed off of Talia’s soul, and she fell back, shoved away by an armored figure.

Abdul’s breastplate was destroyed, but beneath was unmarred flesh. He bellowed his rage as he battled the golem, his sword cutting deep furrows into its ichor-stained flesh. The monster hammered into him with a fist the size of Talia’s torso, but Abdul’s constitution bore the punishment with surprising ease.

“Faithful Fortitude,” she muttered, realizing that Abdul was burning his highest-level skill. Her mother, Lady Constance, had once described it to her, explaining that Abdul could channel his faith to the sun goddess into near invulnerability. It was a short-term buff – no human being, regardless of how high of a level could withstand the power of the sun goddess for long – but it was extraordinarily powerful. In addition, the skill would leave Abdul weakened and unable to fight when it expired. It was a skill of desperation, and one that could only be cast on the rarest occasions. Anything else, and Abdul would be ruined by the sheer power of it.

And he’d used it to save her life.

With its attacks rendered ineffective, the fearsome monster stood little chance against Abdul, who slowly whittled the thing down to a pile of severed parts, some of which were still writhing on the ground. It wailed the entire time, sending chills of terror up and down Talia’s spine.

After Abdul finally decapitated the monster, he turned to Talia and croaked, “Don’t you have a job to do, girl? Go. Heal them!”

Talia suddenly jerked back to awareness. There was still a battle going on, and as she had watched Abdul slowly dismantle the flesh golem, she had neglected her duties. Chastised, Talia turned back to the line of warriors, and she was horrified by what she saw. Four warriors – three men and one woman – all lay on the ground, sporting a wide variety of wounds. Armor had been rent asunder, blood stained the ground, and pitiful cries of agony filled the air. Talia sprinted back into position, casting [Circle of Mending] as often as she could, interweaving [Purify] where necessary.

Abdul, still under the protection of [Faithful Fortitude] went through the remaining army of undead like a scythe, mowing the monsters down with mechanical ease. They surged toward the paladin, trying to overwhelm him with sheer numbers, but the horde of unliving were far from up to the task.

Soon, with Abdul cutting through their ranks, the tide of the battle turned. But even with the advantage, there were still so many of them that it took hours to finish the attacking monsters off. By the time they killed the last one – a particularly stubborn reaper – Talia had used every ounce of her mana.

She slumped to the ground, exhausted.

“Up, girl,” Abdul said, suddenly looming over her. He’d lost his buffs, shrinking back down to his normal size. More, the aura of invincibility that had come with [Faithful Fortitude] had faded, replaced by ashen grey skin, sunken eyes, and a vulnerability that felt out of place on the stalwart paladin. Still, he hooked one gauntleted hand under her arm, dragging her to her feet. “The monsters are still about. We must secure a campsite, lest we be overrun.”

The exhausted party followed the paladin from the scene of so much carnage. A pair of warriors gathered their dead, slinging one over each shoulder before trudging after their comrades. It was a tactical move as much as an emotional one, necessary because any dead body left in the area would no doubt turn into a zombie. No one wanted that.

For an hour, they marched along, their shuffling steps bearing them away from the scene of the battle. Talia hardly noticed the ruins around them. Though she knew the area had once been the site of a city larger even than Beacon, it had been destroyed and abandoned for as long as anyone could remember, its former citizens forming an army of undead that thankfully never left the area. If they weren’t tied so firmly to the place, the rest of the island would’ve been long since overrun.

Not for the first time, Talia wondered why Abraham Micayne, once a powerful priest within the Church of Purity, had chosen to construct his estate on the other side of the undead zone. After the tragic death of his wife more than a decade before, he had chosen solitude, though no one knew why. It was only one of the mysteries they’d been tasked with solving. However, it was clear that Talia hadn’t been given all the information on their mission. It galled her that she hadn’t gained her mother’s trust, but there was little she could do, save earn it.

Finally, the group found their way to an abandoned cathedral to some nameless deity. The place was mostly intact, and its architecture was so different from the style she associated with either the Church of Purity or the shrines to the sun goddess that she scarcely believed they served the same purpose. Where the churches of purity were airy buildings comprised of swooping arches and graceful towers, this building was all sharp lines and pointy, spike-like towers. But it had sturdy walls, which was all that really mattered.

As the group set up inside the cathedral, Abdul circled the building as he cast [Consecration]. Without it, they’d be vulnerable to another attack – and this time, they wouldn’t survive. It took him far longer than any other time he’d used the skill, likely due to his exhaustion. But eventually, he managed to empower the ritual and shuffle back inside. Once he’d made it, he stumbled, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

Despite her own fatigue, Talia was on him in an instant, casting [Circle of Mending]. His eyes fluttered open, and he said, “Don’t waste your mana on me, girl. I’m fine. Just a bit…tired. Get a camp set up. We’re going to have to stay here for a few days while I recover.”

With that, he passed out again, and the rest of the party went to work on setting up the camp, burning the bodies of their comrades, and, most of all, resting up for the final push into the Micayne estate.