Dozens upon dozens of fungus-ridden corpses crashed dead center in the cistern. What members of Mal’s posse could still flee ran for the edges, then made for stairs or higher ground. Those that couldn’t disappeared, and soon joined the horde.

  Calaf struck out with his burning spear, igniting corpse after corpse. An unbranded sailor here, a missing innkeeper there, a cathedral guard who’d crashed against his shield. Still, they kept coming. He stood between the horde and Mal, who was backed against a corner. As a Squire, it was his role, his purpose.

  Enkidu stood dead center in the reservoir, slicing everyone within sword range. Arms, heads, and torsos were all shorn off and sent flying, only to come crawling back or reattaching themselves to their host corpses like they were bound by invisible strings. This was, perhaps, the one foe Enkidu was not equipped to handle, for it shrugged off his usual viciously high-offense, minimal-defense attack style.

  High above, Jelena fled with Zilara in hand from a single corpse.

  The relic thief turned, held out a small metallic tube, and pulled a knob.

  The shrill din of a gunshot filled the cistern, echoing off every stone. Steel buckshot flew out in a plume, knocking her foe down and adding a whopping two hundred fifty damage to the creature’s negative HP status bar.

  After a brief pause, this corpse was propelled by some force back to its feet and continued the assault.

  Jelena swore, the exact word unintelligible over the fighting.

  “Going to need incendiary ammo,” she said.

  Down against the wall, Calaf continued his doomed defense against the rising tide of walking death.

  “Mal, can you walk!?” he cried.

  Mal nodded, limping over to the nearest stairs. Calaf provided much-needed cover until the injured man was at higher ground.

  The sailors had let loose with those torches when the horde fell upon them. Any corpse that was so much as nicked by the flames lit up like a torch. It was certainly the case with Calaf’s fire spear.

  “Enkidu!” Calaf bellowed. He held his fire spear out, using his shield as a ram to force his way towards the center.

  The wild man caught on to Calaf’s meaning. He cut his way to Calaf’s position, then tapped his sword to the burning spearhead. The fire caught, and Enkidu immediately turned his new fire sword against the corpses that had taken to grabbing and gnawing and tearing at his abdomen.

  Three quick sword strikes bounced harmlessly against Calaf’s Shield of Fireproofing as the Squire made his retreat toward higher ground. Once he was on the stairs, Calaf found Jelena’s position again. Isen, the dead cleric, continued his slow limping walk, that gunshot having torn some ligament or another.

  “If I only had access to your spells under the Interface, there’d be none of you left,” said the cleric, deep and guttural.

  The voice was echoed by every other corpse in the cistern, even the ones on fire.

  “What was that!?” Jelena asked.

  Mal only swore in some foreign tongue.

  From a high point on the stairs, Calaf readied his spear.

  Still aflame, the spear flew and nailed Isen in the center of mass. This corpse, too, turned into a candle.

  Enkidu’s assault had by now turned the cistern floor into a sea of fire. Corpses ran off to find water and filtered out of the dried-up reservoir like flowing liquid. At least one sailor was dragged, screaming for help, into the darkness by the horde. Enkidu was dissuaded from following only when his sword extinguished itself.

  “By the flame god, the entire crew,” Mal managed, still doubled over on the stairs. “Just the three of us!? Out of a crew of fifty!”

  The wounded down on the cistern floor had no chance when the deluge of fungus and rot hit. They’d been trampled or otherwise killed and joined the swarm. Those who could fight tried to get to high ground and were mostly consumed in turn. Those with torches managed to at least put up a fight, and they made up the other two survivors aside from Mal.

  “What… was that?” Jelena asked, carrying Zilara over to Calaf and Mal’s position.

  Enkidu sniffed the air near one of the drainage passageways. He was comparing scents, trying to find a trail.

  “You three, get back to the cathedral.” Calaf pointed to the sailors.

  “Aye, can barely walk.” Mal fell to his knees.

  The two remaining sailors picked him up.

  “Splitting the party sounds like a bad idea in this situation,” Jelena said.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Keep your torches ready at all times,” Calaf ordered.

  “How do we… get out?” asked a sailor.

  “There.” Calaf swiftly reoriented himself and pointed to the passageway he’d come through. “Straight through an intersection, a left, straight through, a right, then a left and straight until you reach the reliquary hall. There may still be at least two of those things – again, keep your torches at the ready and check your corners!”

  “If you see my wife.” Mal coughed up some blood. “If Barbara’s been turned by whatever foul necromancy’s running around down here. Promise me you’ll. Burn her. Same with her coworker, Marianne.”

  “On my honor.” Calaf gave a polite nod. Then, to the other two sailors: “Get him to Pryor Deacon. He’ll know what needs to be done to heal Mal.”

  Though it may require some sacrifices on Mal’s part.

  Jelena smiled as she observed Calaf’s determination. She was busy prepping a makeshift torch from various items on her person and a bit of driftwood she’d found on the ground.

  “Hey, kid.” She handed one to Zilara. “Go with them. You’ll be better off at the cathedral than down here in the thick of it. Plus, you can see in the dark. Should help these boys out.”

  With a torch in hand, Zilara gave a mock salute. “Straight, left, straight, right, left, straight on. Af-firmative.”

  “Remember to use your glamor and title rings once you’re in the clear. It’ll help us out down the road. Oh, and…” Jelena got on one knee and whispered. “… if they go for these guys first, you take off running, okay? Only have to be faster than the rest of ‘em yeah? No shame in leavin’ ‘em if it gets you to safety.”

  “Won’t let you down, Hoss.”

  Down in the cistern, Enkidu had caught a scent. Calaf and Jelena went down to investigate.

  “Follow the rot,” Enkidu said.

  “What are you doing?” Calaf asked Jelena.

  “Pleasure to meet you again too, hot stuff,” she said. “I’m going to put a stop to the army of bloated corpses propagating here under one of the largest cities on the continent. Like a big goddamn hero. What’re you going to do?”

  “Same,” Calaf said simply. “Maybe in more eloquent words but… same.”

  The pair smiled at each other as Enkidu waited, arms crossed.

  “Eighty-three,” Enkidu said after a period of uncomfortable silence.

  The Flaming Sword of Faith spell could be spread to Enkidu’s swords and Jelena’s knives with about a third of the duration that it had on the spear. They stopped to reapply the enhancement, ensuring it was always active for at least one weapon. That these flaming implements doubled as torches was a nice bonus.

  “What?” Calaf asked.

  “Eighty-three foes were burnt in that cistern. I counted maybe one hundred fifty in total.”

  “Oh, good, so they’re only down by a bit more than half.” Calaf paused. “By the Interface, how did so many people go missing?”

  “You’d be surprised.” Jelena shrugged. “It’s more common in trading hubs like this with little in the way of established community and many nooks and crannies, but there are a lot of ways to fall through the cracks.”

  The trio’s slow crawl through the Port Town aqueducts stopped as they heard footsteps cut through the darkness to their right. Calaf raised his spear but could not spy their tail in time.

  “Sounds like a trap. Let’s ignore it, let them come to us,” Jelena said.

  But Calaf took a step into the darkness, shield raised. Around a corner, he found a line of corpses lying here and there through a side hallway.

  “Must be the guards sent down here from the cathedral,” Calaf said. “They lasted awhile. Only recently died.”

  Jelena and Enkidu watched his back as he disposed of these corpses. Better to avoid surprises at their backs. Calaf stabbed the first corpse with his fire spear. He moved to the second, noticed that “Orun’s” finger muscles were beginning to twitch, and cremated him as well. Then, when he moved to Norman:

  “These Brands are s-so very troublesome,” said the corpse. “It takes so p-p-prohibitively l-long to override their-”

  Calaf burnt this third corpse as well.

  Footsteps sounded from the next doorway.

  “Someone’s close,” he said and advanced.

  A silver dagger bounced harmlessly off Calaf’s shield. He jutted the shield out and a diminutive figure in robes not at all meant for combat at this level fell over onto her back.

  The figure’s brand was Scoured and the Interface scrambled. But the name could be made out:

  “How did you get here?” Calaf asked. “Did Deacon have you come down…”

  Karol shook her head. “W-ho? No. I begged the guard captain to let me join. I think he’s stumbling through the halls now. He attacked me when I saw him last.”

  The poor Crimson Mage was shivering. Even she did not know how long she’d been down here for. The fire spear provided some modicum of warmth, but she needed to get topside as soon as possible.

  “Why did you come down here?”

  “To be useful,” she said, voice hoarse. “If my life can be of some use to the church, maybe it’s not for nothing…”

  The party gave Carol what healing items and foodstuffs they had available.

  “Friend of yours?” Jelena asked.

  Enkidu snarled. “She’s the one who…”

  “Who… who told you to kill Cayo?” Calaf asked.

  There was a period of silence, during which droplets dripped down from the ceiling into a stagnant waterway.

  “The… the Deaconess,” Karol spoke slowly. “Told me that Scouring the Brand wasn’t a sin if it were for a cause befitting the church. Said I’d be able to get closer, kill the heretics defiling the good name of the Menu.”

  All Calaf heard next was his breathing. Only when Jelena touched his shoulder did he again notice anything beyond the labyrinth of his own mind.

  “Charlotte told you to do this? To destroy your Brand?”

  In truth, Calaf had feared this since Fort Duran. He’d been operating off this very assumption, even suspecting Karol would attempt some sort of martyrdom of the sort along the path between here and Riverglen. Only now that he’d caught up to Karol had it been confirmed.

  As for Charlotte, well, the Squire had been thinking of how to approach that since he first set off south through the desert.

  “Is there anyone else alive down here?” Calaf asked.

  Karol shook her head. “We-we followed someone for a while, but she got away. Just as scared of us as she was of this… thing.”

  She shuddered at the very thought. She hid her face in her hands, then gradually lowered them.

  “You still have his shield,” Karol said, looking at Calaf.

  “Can you walk?” Calaf offered his hand.

  “Can you fight?” Enkidu asked more pointedly.

  “I… I’ll do it.” Karol nodded and took Calaf’s hand.

  The new crew of four advanced down the hall, following the coiling roots and vines deeper into the waterways. Everything was converging at a single, central point.

  “I know where we’re headed,” Calaf realized.

  The floor was entirely consumed by reddish, veiny roots. In time, the walls and ceiling were consumed too, and the chamber appeared to narrow. Still, the crew stepped forward. Enkidu and Calaf were up front, Jelena in the middle, Karol at the back.

  The roots all spilled out into another empty cistern, one very much familiar to Calaf. The entire floor was consumed with reddish kudzu, while the new fungal growths changed the chamber beyond recognition and even appeared to soak up and absorb what little illumination remained, he would recognize the cistern where he’d had his first encounter with Metzger in any lighting.

  High up, at the top of the cistern, was a massive nerve bundle of fungal growth and red-leaf vines. At its heart was a great, glowing pustule. It did seem to be the core of the infestation. What’s more, this bundle was blocking both light and rainwater from above.

  They were up on a high ledge. Water was meant to cascade from here down into the storage reservoir below. A climb would be required to get down to the floor.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Enkidu said.

  He lit his sword upon Calaf’s spear once more, then raked it along the vines at their feet. Flames took off in long arcs, disintegrating the vines and clearing a large swathe of aqueducts. The way down – via a series of precarious footholds moving down the cistern counter-clockwise – was revealed.

  “Take point, Enkidu,” Jelena said.

  Flaming sword in hand, Enkidu did so.

  “Keep those eyes open,” Calaf said.

  “Well, eye,” Jelena added with a smirk. “But aye.”

  There was another pause.

  “Kind of wish we hadn’t told Zilara to leave,” she went on to say.

  Once on the ground, the party of four fanned out. Karol stayed near Calaf. Her breathing was irregular, and right at the Squire’s ear.

  “If anything happens, stick by me,” he told her.

  Without her working Brand, the Crimson Mage had no fire spells. And her blood-stained, reforged dagger was a makeshift weapon not terribly useful for setting aflame.

  “Well, I don’t see anything,” Jelena said.

  Enkidu sniffed the air. “It’s too easy.”

  “Someone chuck a fireball at that thing up on the ceiling. Sooner we get out of here sooner we can skedaddle out of town.”

  “Something comes.”

  The mushroom-covered wall to Calaf’s left moved. Out lumbered a body twice the size of the average man and with an arm span longer than Calaf was tall. A mighty anchor-sized fist was already pulled back and ready to deliver a full-force punch.

  This time, Calaf blocked the blow with his shield. He went sliding into a central pillar of mushrooms reaching up to the core.

  “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” gurgled the appropriated vocal cords of Bruce, former Thieves Guild heavy. “These Brands slow the conversion process. How troublesome.”

  Was going to skip posting on Christmas but I decided, what the hell, I’ll give it a shot. May skip new years if nobody’s on for Xmas though. Anyway there’s at least one chapter before that. Until next time~