Chapter 19: The War of the Hoard (1/2)
- Chronicles of the War of the Hoard, final chapter: ”Furibon must die.”
In a magical land, far, far away...
Murmurin is at war! In a stunning move, the foul Furibon has kidnapped Lord Victor, first among all minions. The lich’s evil has swept across the land, corrupting all that is shiny. But hope remains.
Deep in his fiery forge, the great smith Barnabas forged a dragon-sized [Ring of Elemental Resistance] and a [Killer Scythe]. In them, he poured stat boosts, magical protections, and his frustration at working overtime.
A last alliance of kobolds and werewolves march against Furibon’s armies, and on the slopes of a fiery mountain, they fight for the great hoard. Wielding the master ring, the good King Vainqueur leads a desperate charge, determined to end the lich once and for all.
For Furibon must die!
That was it, Vainqueur thought when he hummed the smoke and listened to the drums of war. The final battle for the dragon’s way of life.
His heroic minion armies, led by the Kobold Rangers, used mobile wood bridges to reach the castle, fighting imps, and undead. Kobolds, werewolves, and undead minions fought together as one, under Vainqueur’s watchful eye.
The dragon statues protecting the castle fired rays of light at Vainqueur, who circled around the castle, blasting the defenders with his breath. The dragon majestically avoided them, taking the opportunity to show off.
“Brother, I’m flying!” said Chocolatine, being held in one of Vainqueur’s hands. As a good and loyal minion, she carried the scythe Barnabas crafted for Vainqueur’s chief of staff.
“I’m going to throw up…” Croissant the meat shield complained in Vainqueur’s other hand.
“[Spell Purge!]” Vainqueur’s Perk activated, and the great dragon radiated a dark aura, causing the magical barrier around Castle Murmurin to blink out of existence. With the defenses now exposed, Vainqueur crash-landed on the statues, blowing them apart and causing the castle to shake.
He tossed the fiends defending the entrance into the lava, then released his two werewolf minions in front of the entrance. The doors were open, the darkness unwelcoming. “Croissant, go inside and trigger all the traps while I finish off the defenders,” Vainqueur ordered. “Die if you must.”
“Can we skip the last part?”
“Die if you must!” Vainqueur ordered, the werewolf going in while whining. This Croissant was only good as a meat shield, as his chief of staff had warned.
The mere thought filled Vainqueur with fury. That abominable lich, it wasn’t enough to curse his hoard, he went the extra mile and stole his most precious henchman. He imagined Furibon heinously forcing poor Victor into minion recruitment sessions, or to bring him gold coins he could sicken.
Victor was part of Vainqueur’s hoard, the best chief of staff the dragon ever had. The Manling belonged to him, and no one else.
But Vainqueur had come equipped. On his right left finger, his new [Ring of Elemental Resistance] would shield him against the worst of the lich’s magic. This time, the evil Furibon would not escape him.
Vainqueur unleashed his breath against flying gargoyles and vicious creatures attempting to protect the entrance, his flames now shining with a bright, golden afterglow. All were vaporized instantly.
“[Fire Amp],” Chocolatine said, who cast spells on her King as he fought. “[Regen], [Strength Up]!”
Your fire attacks now inflict twenty percent more damage!
Strength increased for ten minutes!
You recover one percent HP every ten seconds for five minute!
Vainqueur soon found himself in a great stone hall, with two doors on each side. One had been opened, with bloodied spikes and acid arrows littering the ground. “I think my brother went this way,” said Chocolatine. “Do we follow him?”
“No, Chocolatine,” decided Vainqueur, who could smell his chief of staff’s scent. He disabled his Spell Purge, so he could save it for later. “That would be the manling way, and playing by Furibon’s rules. We will find my chief of staff the dragon way. Blink.”
Vainqueur turned invisible, prepped himself up, and then solved the door problem the dragon way.
He charged the wall in front of him, powering through. The stones were no match for his strength, and parts of the ceiling collapsed behind him; roaring proudly, Vainqueur kept going, destroying wall after wall, stamping on fiends and skeletal warriors, and redesigning his future castle.
Finally, after a long charge, Vainqueur smashed his way inside a large, dark throne room, illuminated by ghostly candelabras. Six steel statues of armored manlings held next to ancient, ruined tapestries. His loyal chief of staff, bound and held hanging by chains from the barely holding ceiling, rejoiced at the sight of the wall collapsing. “Your Majesty!”
The evil Furibon waited on his sinister throne on the opposite end of the room, a paragon of evil and madness. In his dark eye sockets, Vainqueur saw no mercy, no hint of civilized intellect; only the bitterness of a pauper determined to ruin the rich and the wealthy.
“You realize I can hear you, Vainqueur Knightsbane?” the lich taunted Vainqueur, obviously lying. “You made a big hole in my wall, so you are not very discreet.”
Vainqueur knew it was a trap to imbalance him, and try to make him reveal his position. Chocolatine, who had ran after her master, walked into the room while panting. She used Manling Victor’s scythe as a pole against which to breath.
“I am saddened you skipped most of my traps, but at least we can have a proper confrontation.” The lich dramatically extended his arms. “You have done it, King Vainqueur. After all your sacrifices and your losses, you have reached your beloved lackey.”
“I can’t believe I’m the damsel in distress,” Manling Victor complained, ashamed of his weakness.
“At long last, I can unleash my greatest creation.” As Furibon spoke, a circle of dark energy lit up in the middle of the room. “Cower before the strongest undead I have ever created, from the far reaches of Hell! The Black Beast of Murmurin!”
An undead abomination manifested in the middle of the circle; a monstrous, grotesque, hound-shaped amalgam of white, fossilized flesh stitched together. Black stone coated the upper part of the body like a cuirass, and while far smaller than Vainqueur, the creature was big enough to challenge him without looking ridiculous. The titan wriggled with unholy strength, opening its eyeless mouth and revealing ranges of venomous teeth.
“And now, both of you, fight for my entertainment!” Furibon ordered.
The undead abomination did not move. Not even an inch.
The invisibility worked!
“I said, fight for my entertainment.” The lich twitched as the monster refused to move. “Is it broken? [Magic Scan].”
Words of purple light materialized in front of Furibon eyes, as he ‘glanced’ at his creation, and then around the room. “The [Deadfriend] Perk? You all have it?”
“Chocolatine, you have it too?” asked Minion Victor.
“Why, yes, how do you think I dispose of the bodies? It helps create strong bonds between the churches of Isengrim and Camilla.”
“That is highly disappointing,” the lich said, his empty, soulless eye sockets burning with fires that turned gold to lead. “Such a waste of good flesh. In that case, I will have ‘Your Majesty’ attack it first to trigger its rage. [Enthrall Monster].”
[Enthrall] ailment negated by [Hunter’s Resolve]!
“A dragon’s will is greater than yours, Furibon!” Vainqueur replied proudly, slowly tiptoeing around the corpse titan and toward the lich for a sneak attack. “I trained three days for this! Three days!”
“Maybe, but I too had time to prepare. [Za Warudo]!” To Vainqueur’s senses, time seemed to stop for a brief instant, and when it flowed again, Furibon had covered himself with multiple colored layers of magical energy. “I see you came well-equipped, dragon, but I have more spells than you have years.”
“Only a dragon will never know defeat!”
“Then let us dance like the damned.” Furibon rose from his throne, his hands shining with foul sorcery, “But know that you are too late to stop us. The Apple of Knowledge already belongs to my master, Brandon Maure.”
“Why would I care about a vegetable?” Vainqueur replied with arrogance. ”I only eat meat!”
“Soon, you and all of Outremonde shall know iron and blood! [Ancient Met—” The dark lich stopped still. “You do not know about my master's plan?”
“I know of your plan,” Vainqueur replied, furious at the depraved plot. “To infect all the world’s gold with lead sickness, ending the dragon way of life forever!”
The lich tried to deny his culpability, “No, I do not… that would be amusing, but ridiculous.”
“Also, Your Majesty,” Manling Victor butted in. “Gold being turned to lead is not lead poisoning.”
What had that poison sauce have to do with this? The lich seemed as confused as Vainqueur. “If you did not come to Murmurin to stop my liege's from laying waste to Gardemagne, then why are you here?”
“To stop your sickening scheme!” Vainqueur replied, proud to fight for the future of his hoard.
“This...” the lich let out a deep, bellowing sound. ”Why did you come here in the first place? The seal below? How did you learn about it? Did that dark woman send you?”
“We know about the treasure of the Ishfanian Inquisition you keep in your vaults,” Victor said. “That was part of the reason we came here. What? Aren’t you keeping it?”
“You believe an ancient lich wizard would spend a hundred years holing up in a crumbling ruin to keep a stash of hidden gold?” The lich disdained the dragon way of life, firmly cementing himself as completely irredeemable. “Do you even know what is down there, waiting?”
Manling Victor fell mute.
“You do not.” Furibon the Evil twitched. “Then, and this time you will answer or die, why did you come here?”
“We needed a castle where to stash His Majesty’s hoard,” Manling Victor answered with a pitiful tone. “Because the previous cave was too small.”
As the lich’s skull slowly turned to Victor, Vainqueur realized his lackey was distracting the lich for his master to deliver a sneak attack. Brilliant!
“Stash his hoard?” The undead’s neck cracked. “You attacked me, tried to take my home, and killed hundreds of demons, because you needed a place where to stash your gold?”
“A dragon does not go to the bank!” Vainqueur boasted, having circumvented the undead titan and now with a clear line of fire. “Only a dragon can be trusted with his gold!”
“Why did you not just bury it in your backyard?!” the lich snarled. “But, but… what about the demons? Why did you keep summoning them, except to thin the ranks of my master’s forces? Why did you create an undead army?”
“I kinda intended to sell the undead corpses for money,” Victor admitted.
“With a ninety-nine one-tenth going to my hoard,” Vainqueur reminded his chief of staff.
Furibon shook on his throne in envy and hatred of Vainqueur’s wealth. “I spent one hundred years keeping watch over this crumbling ruin, weakening the seal, preparing traps and monsters while praying Dice that a powerful adventurer would finally challenge my monotony… and the one who does, wants a bigger cave to stash his hoard?”
“The biggest hoard in the world!” Vainqueur boasted as he breathed long and deep.
“You… you…” The lich scratched his skull with his bony fingers with fury. “Argh!”
[Taunt] successful! You successfully applied the [Berserk] status to Furibon! The lich is too pissed to spellcast!
An immense, fiery projectile hit Furibon, the power of the blast destroying the throne and most of the wall behind it. The lich’s robes were incinerated, his bones blown apart in two halves, with his torso flying and crashing against one of the steel statues.
Vainqueur looked at the broken bones of his defeated enemy with smug satisfaction. “Blink,” the dragon revealed himself back in his full glory, freeing his chief of staff by biting the chains holding him. “Minion Victor, are you safe?”