Uno

Jonathan was my first Boss monster. He wore his dull, metallic armor with pride, slowly lumbering from the kitchen to the food hall, and - only sometimes - even into the sparring room. His large, wide form usually seemed peaceful and casual if one discounted the wide maw full of teeth sitting in the middle of his face.

As an Ironhide Undead, his zombie skin was cracked, but extremely durable, while the Dark Knight part of his origin made sure he was adequately equipped with metal leggings, gauntlets, chest armor, and a helmet.

He was an unliving tank - not armed with a weapon, but flaunting his endless hunger. Its maw was usually filled by the rocks I had modified to look like food. The lack of taste he exhibited was enough for my deception to work flawlessly.

At least until something much tastier waltzed in.

Like… an adventuring team consisting of fresh and tasty humans. And even an elf!

The Swords of Hope, as they were called, just managed to splatter the two Lebirs sparring in the earlier room. The undead parts were scattered all around the place, something that I was unwilling to overlook.

I had my little revenge as they froze when entering the food hall.

Many suits of armor stood near the walls, guarding a large room with a long table situated in the middle, filled with empty plates, forks, spoons, and knives. A few iron candlesticks were stuck in-between them, adding to the atmosphere. The rest of this place was filled with polished stone tiles - and a few banners I had replicated some time ago. Otherwise, the room would feel naked and they were here before, after all. It was their rightful place.

Not that I knew what they represented. It seemed like the adventurers did though, as they were staring at these replicated insignias hanging on the walls. There was a certain tension in the air, but it has been interrupted as soon as Jonathan walked into the room.

Unlike most of my creations, he had a mouth, lungs and enough of individuality to use them. Seeing the seven living people he roared loudly, showing his large teeth off and grabbing the air with his armored hands. The adventurers reacted quickly, readying their weapons and getting in the formation - melee warriors with shields stood in the front, lightly armored fighters waited behind them and the mages prepared their spells in the back.

A classic tactic. At least according to my gaming days.

The next course of action that Jonathan decided on was weird, however…

He retreated.

Into the kitchen.

Leader of the party, princess Agnes motioned the half-orc warrior to check it out, but the small rogue Tinna only shook her head.

“I’ll go.” She spoke while readying her daggers. “The undead of this type aren’t usually that bright so I should be-...” The rest of her speech had been interrupted, as Jonathan emerged again, roaring his challenge to the world.

This time he had an unwieldy, crudely made mace with a lump of iron of the end. It looked barely functional but heavy enough to do some damage. On the other hand, he was wielding…

A portion of the meat with a large bone sticking out from one side. He was holding it by the said bone, creating both a courageous and funny impression.

The food was of course made from stone, yet the illusion crumbled as soon as he chewed on the fleshy looking side - small pieces of stone ran between his teeth and into the ground.

“Do you see what I saw?” Boulder roared in laughter, pointing with his weapon at the opponent. “Is it eating stone? I knew that undead were dumb, but this...”

“Shut it.” Commanded Agnes, her weapons and eyes not leaving the monster for even a moment. “Keep watch. This thing is not a pushover. And I don’t like how these armors are looking... Charles, please blast a few of them. Just in case.” The red-haired mage nodded and started to leisurely cast a spell. This time he wasn’t shooting magic outright. Interesting.

Now…

I could leave the Lebirs be, further reinforcing the invader’s belief that these were only decorative armors (and some of them were!), but I highly doubted that the mage would only hit the fakes. Or that the Lebirs cooked in his flames would refrain from attacking and politely fall on the floor.

Thus as soon as his chant ended and he threw the missile towards my minions I ordered them to step down from their little pedestals. They walked down in unison, preparing their weapons and square shields. The red-haired mage cursed loudly and I did too, as he aimed at one of the replicas. Well, the next one would surely hit the other Lebirs. I consoled myself while looking over the battlefield.

A flank of the adventurer’s team was exposed and my undead rushed forward to exploit this weakness, while Jonathan advanced forward with his slow gait - still eating and swinging his enormous mace in a dangerous fashion.

“Oh, Belle’s golden tits!” Agnes cursed as she directed her team. “Boulder, stop the big guy. Lone Mountain and Tinna break down the undead. Charles, help them!” The trio nodded and formed another front, focusing on battling my Lebirs. “Eve make sure that you’re supporting Boulder with all you’ve got! Peter, try to stop him! Something large, like the Tremor should give us an advantage!” Seeing the pale man nodding she smiled, showing her teeth. Now her figure looked like a predator ready to pounce. “I’ll circle around and try to distract the abomination!” The princess shouted while running ahead and dodging Jonathan mace by the centimeters. Peter followed, his ghostly figure soon disappearing.

The two remaining fighters looked at each other awkwardly. Boulder smiled shyly. It was a very strained smile…

“Let’s get along?” He spoke in a hopeful tone.

“Just move it. You’re not better than these monsters, slave.” Eve pouted while shooing him forward with a displeased expression. The half-orc only sighed and marched ahead, keeping his shield up.

The first attack from Jonathan forced the air out of his lungs, but miraculously he managed to stop only after getting pushed about thirty centimeters. A large dent was however visible in the middle of his tower shield.

“What the hell!” He shouted in exasperation. “This here is a pure metal shield! How strong is this bastard!”

“Look out!” Eve shouted as another swing arrived near him. This time Boulder wasn’t able to stop it completely and the strength of the attack lifted him up by few centimeters and then threw his clanking figure towards the back. He bounced a few times before stopping.

“Heeeeeeeeiya!” Agnes shouted as her wild swings cut the Ironhide weak-spots. Yet these were only small wounds and the abomination could still fight without problems.

On the second battlefield Lone Mountain, Tinna, and Charles were tearing my Lebirs apart. Somehow they developed much better coordination than their undead opponents who I had trained day and night. Was that a difference in levels? Or maybe innate talent?

Lone Mountain was like a defensive shield from which under Tinna attacked with terrifying precision. It was hard to believe that she was only level four! The decisive strikes she doled out weren’t able to outright kill my monsters, but they blinded, hobbled and otherwise made them useless.

Stationary targets were just right enough for some roasting. As a fire mage, Charles was happily burning down my forces on any occasion. He already blessed the Lone Mountain armor with his counter-attack ability (which wasn’t that useful against the undead but still distracted them with pretty colors).

Only a few of my Lebirs remained, most of them in pretty bad shape.

It was time to act. Once the Lebirs were dealt with these three invaders would turn their blades against Jonathan. And you know, nec Hercules contra plures. My singular champion would fall under their combined blades.

Especially since just now I remembered that they had one more party member! The earth mage called Peter, where did he disappear to?! My magical eye-cameras spotted him at the edge of the battlefield, mumbling some chants.

Dammit!

He was just far enough from any of my minions…

Shaking my invisible head I called on reinforcements. The Ratlings!

Yes, they were small and weak, and yes, for some reason the Ratling Queen refused to send stronger and better-trained rats on the first floor, but!

It doesn’t matter how big your forces are! It matters how you use them! The technique! That’s how you become a king on the battlefield!

And in bed.

Or something like that.

With my mental nudge, about twenty Ratlings emerged from their hidden tunnels, armed with spear-throwers and squeaking wildly.

I asked the Queen many times to teach them restraint, as a surprise attack was bound to succeed when executed in silence. To no avail. She showed me few pictures of youth and such things while presenting a few ninja-like rats born on the second level.

There was even one who I nearly couldn’t perceive!

But I digress.

They ran forward with a loud roar, half of them stopping in the middle of the road to unleash their spear-throwers, the rest keen on tasting the blood of the invaders in melee.

Their target was clear - the party’ healer. As of now, she had shown only more or less useful curing abilities. Additionally, both the outfit she wore (a white dress, a dress!!) and her disdain for the lesser beings (and thus the distance she preferred to keep) made her perfect victim for a concentrated attack.

After all, I knew my games - killing the healer was bound to cut their exploration short. Somehow I doubted that potions were a common thing in this world where even the weakest magical items were so desperately desired…

So yeah, after a second the barrage of ten spears flew towards the elf Eve. She had only enough time to widen her eyes and start screaming in terror when a shadow of death arrived.

And was swatted down by very armored and very sweaty orc. Well, half-orc.

Boulder did what any decent tank should - he literally put himself in the harm's way. That was normal. What wasn’t normal was his ability to jump so far while wearing about fifty kilograms of metal!

He soon fell on his side, grunting heavily and cursing under heaven, only to clamor back up and look at his companion. Most of the spears were helplessly lying on the ground.

Most.

Besides one.

The elf had a metal shaft piercing her left arm, making it fall limply on the side, red blood staining her once white dress. Contrary to my expectations Eve wasn’t crying or screaming.

No.

Her face turned into a noh demon mask, bristling with fury. Just as I was thinking with disdain What a healer can do, even if she rages I heard the answer to my question.

I would prefer I didn’t.

She rose quickly, weakened and barely standing straight, but with her green, large eyes full of fury. And then she started her chant.

“I call upon you, oh the Brightest Spear, find and skewer my enemies, ravage their bodies with your endless fury, riddle them with holes! I call upon you, of the Brightest Spear, become my weapon, fall upon all that is alive, mark it with your hottest flame! I call upon you, oh the Brightest Spear, a child of the Bright Fury - a one of your own!”

With chant ending a globe of light appeared above her head, shining brightly. A large amount of small, stick-like extensions cropped out on its surface. I noticed that every single one was pointing towards my creatures and shouted in panic.

[Take cover!] They however just stood there, paralyzed by something.

“Go!” A cold voice echoed in the room and the laser-like projectiles shot out, piercing the heads of my minions, killing them in one hit. Their wounds were instantly cauterized, stopping the blood flow. My cameras were also destroyed, so I was forced to remain in my immaterial form.

All was ravaged, but not good, old Jonathan.

He somehow managed to get away with only half of his face blown off.

That said the atmosphere in the room changed.

Mostly Eve had this unmistakable “oh shit” expression I always sported in my past. Good… I mean bad times. Anyway.

Shaking her head princess Agnes addressed the invaders.

“Focus on the job! We still have the big bad to kill off!” She then turned her own glare towards the healer. “And I will talk to you later, Eve.” Her expression for a moment changed to a near-cry. ”You promised!” Quickly nodding the elf girl retreated. Not before last harsh words caught up to her. “And for Belle sweet ass, heal yourself, woman!”

Eve ran back, escorted by Boulder.

The battle continued.