Several hours had passed since the horde’s initial sighting, and it hadn’t changed directions at all in that time. Outriders had clashed with the defenders’ scouts countless times, but these were all insignificant fights that really affected nothing. The defenders were content to let the horde proceed into the designated killing zone, and evidently Kuraim was more than happy to entertain them.

The main camp of defenders on the rampart smelled the horde before they saw them as a southward wind graciously carried with it the stench of death. Rancid rotting flesh and unwashed equipment and dried blood, the odour had the effect of making the defenders wish they were elsewhere, anywhere else. It was like all unpleasant smells had been thrown into a cauldron and allowed to bubble and pop into a concoction so severe it could make a grown man sob from a single whiff. To make matters worse, the horde was still several miles off…

Silas immediately ran for nose plugs as his perception paid him no favours here. He sensed Dahlia separating from Kuraim and Zafeera, going sideways likely with the intention of circling around. Perhaps if the Sovereigns couldn’t easily track her and if they didn’t have drones watching the area, then this could have been a smart idea as she could have caught the defenders off-guard from the side. But that wasn’t the case, so why had she done this?

The Sovereigns were quick to convene on Hou’s location, immediately telling the Artificer to bring up the overhead footage on her. Sure enough, as they had sensed, she was crossing a nearby meadow, followed by a forty-so-strong host of zombies. From the way they moved and stopped when she paused, it appeared they were only smart enough to tail her and no more.

“Why has she separated?” Silas asked. “If she stayed with the rest of them, she could have been immortal - like you said - with access to an army of corpses to absorb.”

The prophet was the first to answer. “I would assume Kuraim sent her away, then. Even though he can endlessly raise his zombies, such would not be possible if she consumed their bodies to fuel her abilities. If she did, he would be left relatively defenceless, and undoubtedly dead once we all close in.

“So she listens to him?” Silas asked. “I always thought she was on top, or at least even with him..”

“Well, she is supporting his bid for Autocracy, isn’t she?” Ajit said. “Besides, it could be the case that she believes she doesn’t need any more than these forty zombies to beat anything we throw at her. Matches what we know of her.”

As if hearing his words, Dahlia looked up from the screen, staring deep into the drone recording from above. Her lips split apart, and she smiled from ear to ear, displaying a freakish grin as she raised her hand to beckon the drone closer. “Come on,” she mouthed.

It drove a chill through the assembled Sovereigns. Silas wiped his brow and had a bout of shivers before nodding to himself. “Well, we might as well go while she’s by herself. Best chance we have.” At least this meant he wouldn’t have to throw himself into the midst of the reeking horde.

Since they were all prepared, it wasn’t more than half an hour before the five Sovereigns set off for Dahlia. The Abomination was going to get the fight she wanted and more.

****

Ajit stared down from a stone tower on the rampart, his unbroken gaze only reaching over a mile away. However, in his mind’s eye, he was watching through his shade cloud which had drifted over the horde. He counted a rough 40 000, give or take a few thousand. The horde was evenly split between zombies and humans, although Ajit knew this balance would weigh down on the former’s side once the war began. Although Lucian was one for putting on airs and acting underhandedly to his opponents, he had been truthful in saying at the congress that Kuraim had surrounded himself with cannibals, pillagers, rapists, torturers, pedophiles, and the deranged. They would earn no mercy from the Warlock.

Among the Sovereigns, Ajit had been one of the strongest since the start, at the same level as the dragons, Baerl of Time, and Oakley. He could have put himself forth as an Autocrat and done well, but that was also the problem. He could have done well, but he would have never won the race, not when Lucian and Kuraim existed. Those two had maxed out the strengths of their followers and their own personal strength, and it had been obvious to Ajit from the start that these two would be the final two contestants, even when the other Sovereigns had looked promising. And that had meant in order to survive he would have to bow to them - a thought which brought a sour taste to his mouth - or band with others.

Silas and Aengus had been easy picks, especially since Ajit knew neither of them were ambitious or cunning enough to want anything more than easy lives. What had surprised him, however, was the number of other Sovereigns that had come around, especially some troubling ambitious ones who must have faced the same choice as him. Emmanuel, Vivienne, Hou, Zitu, and the drakkar were all allies for him to watch out for, and there was none more troubling than the prophet himself. If they won this war and Meritocracy became the official ruling method, Ajit reckoned there would be more wars to come, but then again that was all for future him to deal with.

At last, Ajit’s shade cloud passed over the Necromancer and his entourage. The Warlock fuelled it with mana and watched through it as it plummeted, falling like a meteor when suddenly it was shot out of the sky. It exploded, showering those below with shards, meanwhile Ajit smirked, walking out of the stone tower. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy, but it had been worth a shot all the same.

He headed for the main camp to rest until the horde arrived. He certainly wouldn’t be getting any once the fighting started.

****

Baerl of Time sat in silence with the other Magi, they in wait for him, he for his thoughts to reach a conclusion. Out of the 50 000 on the defenders’ side, 20 000 of that were drakkar, so chances were they would incur 40% of the losses but Baerl was determined to make it less than that. Somehow, he needed the humans to take the riskiest positions, but this was difficult since, while there were careless and witless humans, there were also extraordinarily wily ones. Chief among those numbers was Hou, whose drones not only scoured the surroundings but also the ally camps in case anything untoward happened.

“Where has Dying Light got to?” Baerl asked. “How much longer until he reaches that Abomination?”

“We estimate them to clash in about an hour, oh Great Dragon,” Klope of Rain said, pausing. “Do you truly think he will return?”

“That Silas and Aengus are amongst the best duellists on Idroa, perhaps only surpassed by Lucian and Dahlia at the present day. With Dying Light with them, they have as good a chance as any group can get. Now, I am uncertain of this Zitu and Fayiure, but given they are fellow Sovereigns, I believe they will provide sufficient support.”

Silence reigned once more, this time stretching several minutes before Baerl spoke again. “We have no choice but to fight properly here, but warn all the officers to keep a tight rein on their troops. No matter how arrogant or foolish these humans believe the Necromancer to be, the truth could not be further from that. If he truly intends to throw his horde against our defences, then he isn’t planning this to be a war of attrition, which he would likely lose. More so, he is also aware that Lucian will come to kill him afterwards, so why would he ever weaken himself like this so willingly? No, he has something else planned, and chances are others know of this, including that prophet.”

“That satyr said nothing further at the war meeting,” Peryn of Dragonfire said carefully. “Do you think he intends to betray us, brother?”

“Nothing so frank,” Baerl said. “While we may all read the hints that Kuraim has something more planned, I don’t think any of us truly know what that is. As such, what better way to get the Necromancer to reveal his cards than to throw a buffer of, say, 30 000 humans and 20 000 drakkar at him. Everyone who has guessed this will keep back until they know what the Necromancer intends, and therefore we should exercise caution too and make use of the fools who so fearlessly take the vanguard.”

****

It was forty minutes later that the horde finally entered the view of the rampart. They did not stop to consider the situation or even pause to recover their energy, instead continuing forward at the same pace. Gunners and archers readied from above, tensing as the horde neared, neared, ever nearer. One second, the wind dominated the battlefield, giving a muffled roar as it swept past, but the next second, the noise of gunfire shattered through.

Bullets hailed down on the horde, striking down hundreds of decaying corpses. These zombies spat flesh from their bodies and toppled to the ground, rivulets of blood forming, before then slowly rising. Of course, they were shot down again, but this had no more effect than last time.

Rolf, the Tactician, watched this from above with the other war leaders. “Their vanguard is solely made of zombies with the intention of soaking our firepower. We need to focus on those humans hiding in the backlines, see,” he said to Elise, pointing.

She quickly saw his reason and nodded, sending new orders to be trickled down the chain of command. When the ranged units changed targets, the zombies charged forth but those above left them to the warriors to deal with. Instead, they fired down on the alive enemies, immediately seeing a difference in reaction as those alive raised mana barriers and shields. Alas, this was mostly futile as the defenders had enough ammunition to fire up heaven itself. Mana barriers shattered, shields broke, blood spilt, and men died, a whole lot of men died.

But as expected, these men rose again after a minute on the ground, joining their fellow undead in their brainless assaults on the rampart.

While this occurred, Kuraim waited with his entourage of around a hundred out of range of the archers and gunners. In addition to this, he had a giant mana barrier raised in case any cheeky snipers got ideas past their station. He did not seem in the least concerned about his troops being massacred ahead of him, and in fact, he even aided in this task when some of the horde tried to turn and run from the hopeless assault. There was only one way they could go, and that was towards death.