Scott took a short breather and continued his search for loot. He absorbed soul gems along the way, and slowly rebuilt his ability to use dark judgment. It was his best tool at the moment. He could not use his magic otherwise due to his lack of life force. While it was possible to cast a spell, he would have to do it by absorbing the life around him and converting it to mana. Most of the area was basically a parking lot, so it would be difficult or even impossible to do it while under cover.

There was a bit of grass and woodland nearby, but at best he would get perhaps two or three spells out of the deal. Even then, he would injure himself further just trying to make it happen. His dragon fire was one such luxury that he had already used. The stress of using his mini-kaiju breath weapon made itself known to him deep inside his bones. Life force, he truly needed to regenerate it!

No, his only truly useful ability was a sure kill. Yet, he could not be certain that it would be enough.

“The number of ghosts will be higher next time. Seems like they double each time…” mumbled Scott.

Admittedly, he was doing fine so far. Yet, there was something to be said for the level of difficulty. Were he a normal person of his current level he would have died a dozen times over. This was not something meant to be dealt with by a single person. He truly needed to expand his faction is he intended to make a place in this world where even a few people might be safe from the horrors to come.

He did not have much time to mull over his thoughts. The fourth wave rushed out in preparation to attack.

“Yeah, easily twice as many as last time,” mumbled Scott.

The music shifted to a weird polka version of the star-spangled banner, complete with accordion music. At this point he did not even care anymore. The entire premise was ridiculous, and he’d gotten over the insult to classic American music.

He was shameless in this matter. There was no need to meet these things in any sort of honorable manner. Scott dived into the earth below and immediately sewed chaos among the ranks of the oncoming horde. Union and confederate soldiers alike learned the existential terror of a dragon in the next few moments.

There was little in the way of area of effect abilities available to him, but he persevered. A flash of his claws tore apart one ghost only for several more to rush with bayonets. He cried out as those spectral bayonets tore into his shadow mass, but he escaped into the earth once more.

A series of hit and run tactics quickly wore at the crowd until he managed to get a large number of them to be bunched up together. However, the battle took its toll. He could do little to the ghosts in his shadow form, and there were enough of them that they managed lucky hits.

Wings tattered, blood pouring from multiple lacerations, Scott put his final plan into motion. The crowd was bunched together with rifles out like spears. They were perfectly positioned. In the center of the crowd he unleashed his dark judgment once more.

Abyssal chains tore into the spectral monsters and tore out the energy that had been used to craft them. They fell quickly, each dragged down into the abyss. The energy released in its wake scattered the rest like roaches might scatter across a kitchen floor when the light comes on in the middle of the night.

Most rapidly fled to the corners of the battlefield and were destroyed by the fog, but a decent portion of them fell into a tangled heap and writhed around like a pole of screaming ghost meat. The effect would not last more than a few minutes, so he got to work.

Wings flopping uselessly behind him, Scott waddled over to the nearest pile of screaming ghosts and quickly clawed at them with great enthusiasm. It took a few minutes to work through the mass of quivering translucent flesh, but one by one the piles were torn apart.

By the time that the ghosts began to recover, he had reached the final pile. They began to sober up, but it was far too late. Fangs, claws, and a lashing tale all worked to rip away the spectral flesh of his frightened foes.

He was not quite finished when the fifth and final wave began. A single soldier ran forward this time. Strangely, he was neither a Union nor a Confederate soldier. He was a half-naked man with the head of an eagle.

The eagle man screeched loudly and struck a pose with his weapon, and equally anachronistic automatic shotgun. Scott started to rush toward him, but suddenly slowed to a halt. What was he doing? Why was he fighting?

A strange sensation washed over him. Guilt! How dare he fight against his home country! What sort of trash fire of a human being was he?

Shots rang out and Scott was blown off his feet. He spat a wad of blood-flecked phlegm from his mouth. He panted for air, his chest feeling as though he had been kicked by a horse. “The hell?”

What had happened? One moment he was rushing in to attack the thing, something the system labeled as ‘Captain Freedom’. In the next minute, he felt a strong urge to pledge allegiance to the flag and to never go against the government again.

Scott tried to stand, but the creature screeched once more. His wave of impromptu patriotism intensified!

“I pledge allegiance to the…” began Scott, his eyes wide and lightly glazed over. Just as quickly as it overtook him, he overcame it.

Every time he attempted to rise, however, the creature would screech. He also took several heavy rounds of shotgun fire. Black scales were torn off in thick wads of flesh. Yet, for the moment they did their job.

Unable to rise, he went with the second-best instinctual urge. He shifted into shadow form and flew into the ground. Anything to avoid hearing that damned screech again.

Curious, he tried to check his status afflictions and noticed a multitude of heavy wounds that could lead to life threatening injuries if he took too much more damage. He expected that much. What caught his attention was the special status effect he had received. He was afflicted with intense patriotism!

This thing’s special attack was strong enough to even overcome his level of charisma! The effect did not last long due to his stats, but it was long enough to let the thing get a free shot in at his expense. The only benefit of being shot a few times was that he was now certain that he could survive being shot. Further, the thing did not seem to be undead. Perhaps it was time to fight fire with fire. Patriotism versus absolute terror which would win…