And Our heroes are ready

Chapter 18: When the dead march.

With Basilius staying behind to prepare the Black Rose for the worst, the rest of us made our way to the city hall. What awaited us there froze my breath in my chest: a militia of farmers, merchants, and frightened teenagers stood where soldiers should have been. The city hall reeked of sweat and desperation. The sound of clanging metal filled the air as recruits practiced with weapons that were little more than glorified farm tools. The grim faces of the militia contrasted with the youthful terror in the eyes of its newest members.
“This can’t be all, can it?” I muttered, unable to hide my disbelief. “This... can’t be all of them.”
“This is going to be a massacre,” Noor whispered, her voice laced with genuine shock. None of us had expected things to be this dire.
“Sadly, this is all we could gather,” a grizzled man with a battle-ready demeanor said, stepping forward. “You must be Kayn. Erastus told us you’d come to lend us a hand.”
I turned to face him. “Yes, that’s me. Who’s asking?”
“I’m Solon,” he replied, introducing himself. “I’m the Archon of this city and, in these **** times, the general of the militia.”
As we spoke, Entinos picked up a sword from one of the recruits and examined it critically. “The most damage this thing could do in battle is a small slash,” he said flatly. “You’re sending these people to their deaths.”
Solon sighed heavily, the weight of the situation evident in his posture. “I know, but what else do you want us to do? This is our home. We won’t leave it, and we won’t abandon our families to danger.”
“Not wasting your lives could be a start,” Noor said with a biting edge, her arms crossed. Her tone drew a glare from Solon, who clearly didn’t appreciate her attitude.
Sensing the tension rising, I interjected, steering the conversation to more practical matters. “Solon, could you tell us more about this undead army?”
He hesitated for a moment, then spoke darkly. “They’re… how do I even put it into words? Nightmare-like. They used to be our ancestors, our soldiers who gave their lives for this city and our future. Now they’ve been turned into mindless killers. Whoever cast this dark magic, may Zeus curse him for all eternity. May he suffer in Hades.”
“How do we kill them?” Iris asked, her voice calm but focused as she toyed with her hunting knife, listening intently to every word.
“The slower ones seem more resistant—probably because they’re older corpses and the magic is stronger in them,” Solon explained. “The best way is to cut off their heads or destroy their brains. Dismemberment works too, but it’s not as fast or effective. The fast ones are easier to kill, but they’ll catch you off guard if you’re not careful.”
“He’s right,” Noor whispered to me, her tone low and conspiratorial. “There’s some serious dark magic at work here. You can sense it too, can’t you?” I nodded silently in reply
Ikaro’s incisive reasoning comes to the forefront as he poses an overlooked yet crucial question. “Solon, where do they come from?”
Solon, taken back by his question, furrows his brow. “From the graves where—”
“Yes, yes, I understand that,” Ikaro interjects, his tone sharp with urgency. “I mean, when they attack. They must be emerging from specific areas. If someone or something is reanimating them, then their movements are not random—they’re being orchestrated.”
Solon’s expression shifts to one of **** consideration, while the rest of us exchange contemplative glances. Only Iris seems unsurprised, her lips curling into a knowing smirk, familiar with her brother’s pattern of rapid deduction.
“You’re suggesting there’s a commander within their ranks?” I probe, intrigued by Ikaro’s hypothesis.
“Either that, or they’re under the influence of an external **** of mind control” he elaborates.
“How exactly do you know this?” I ask, surprised by Ikaro’s apparent familiarity with such arcane matters.
Ikaro hesitates, his eyes darting toward Noor with a flicker of guilt. In a sheepish tone, he confesses, “I might have… read some of Noor’s books.”
Noor faces him, her eyes blazing with indignation. “You did WHAT?!”
Ikaro raises his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I’m sorry! I was curious! You’re always so engrossed in them, and I wanted to understand what was so captivating. Besides, I thought it might give us an edge if we ever encountered a sorcerer.”
“YOU COULD HAVE ASKED INSTEAD OF TOUCHING MY THINGS YOU ASSHOLE!” Noor snaps at him, her hands balling into fists as her outrage peaks.
“Wait,” I interject, stepping in to diffuse the escalating tension. “Noor, is there any truth to what he’s saying?”
Noor freezes mid-motion, her fist inches away from delivering a blow. She exhales sharply, visibly grappling with her irritation before conceding. “He… might have a point,” she admits grudgingly, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. “But to reanimate an entire horde like this, the necromancer would require immense power. Unless…” Her voice trails off, her gaze growing distant as her mind churns with realization. “Unless they’re leveraging a hive-mind system.”
“A hive mind?” I echo, my curiosity piqued. “You’re suggesting the necromancer uses a single undead as a conduit to distribute their magic across the entire horde?”
“Precisely,” Noor confirms, her tone steady now. “But orchestrating something of this magnitude would demand unparalleled mastery over necromantic magic.”
A chilling certainty settles over me, the weight of the possibility sinking into my chest. “Kayn…” Iris’s voice cuts through the tension, laden with unspoken apprehension. “You don’t think…”
“It can only be one thing,” I reply grimly. “An Erebosian. Who else could manipulate forces of this nature and outwit the Oracle's foresight?”
Iris’s voice cuts through the heavy air, her tone dark and accusatory. “So all of this,” she says, gesturing to the suffering people and recalling the scenes from the hospital, “was done by them?”
“Yes,” I reply, my expression grim. “Noor and I felt the presence of magic the moment we arrived. For it to be this strong, it can only mean them.” My words hang in the air, heavy with the implication. “They must want the Oracle dead—to stop her from aiding us and to destroy Delphi in the process.”
Entinos grunts, his gaze hard and unyielding. “The shadows are drawing closer.”
I nod, fully aware of the confrontation that looms ahead.
Iris turns to Noor, her tone focused and direct. “Noor, you’re the expert here. How do we defeat this undead army?”
Noor’s brows knit together as she deliberates. After a moment, she speaks with clarity. “If we cut off the hive mind, the undead should collapse. The Erebosian—no matter how powerful—would need to channel all of their focus to sustain a spell of this magnitude. They’d likely be hidden, directing their magic through the hive mind from a concealed position.”
“So, we kill the leader and the rest will fall apart?” Ikaro asks, his eyes lighting up as he catches on.
“Exactly,” Noor affirms, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Iris, ever the pragmatist, presses further. “But how do we recognize it?”
“It should be apparent during the battle,” Noor explains. “The hive mind’s host would likely stand out—perhaps with different-colored eyes, a larger or more physical form, or by holding an object significant to their past life.”
Solon, who has been deep in thought, suddenly interjects. “I think I know who it is.”
We all turn to face him, curiosity piqued.
“The undead are mostly wearing tattered robes or nothing at all, but there’s one among them… one who’s always clad in armor. I believe it’s Theocritus. He was once one of our greatest heroes.”
Noor’s eyes light up with recognition and excitement. “That’s it!” she exclaims. “Theocritus is the hive mind. A powerful body, deeply connected to the land and marked by his past—he’s the anchor for the spell.”
“So we find Theocritus on the battlefield and take him out. Simple as that?” Iris asks.
“Exactly,” Noor replies with certainty. “Taking him down will sever the connection to the other corpses and break the spell binding them.”
Ikaro, however, furrows his brow, clearly not satisfied. “That sounds right, but we’re overlooking something. There are more than just the undead to contend with, and they’re being led.”
He crosses his arms, a sly smile spreading across his face. “We need a plan.”
“Something to share, Ikaro?” I ask, intrigued by the glint in his eyes.
He chuckles softly. “Only the good stuff,” he replies, his gaze fixed on the hill overlooking the Oracle’s temple.
I glance at Iris, trying to gauge if she understands her brother’s thinking. She simply shrugs. “Could you share with the rest of us?”
Ikaro smirks. “You said there’s an Erebosian here, right?”
I nod, unsure where he’s heading. “Yes.”
“And you’re here as well,” he adds, his grin widening.
“I don’t understand. Where are you going with this?” I press.
“It’s pretty simple,” Ikaro says with a confidence “We’re going to divide their forces.”
Entinos lets out a low chuckle, clearly impressed. “This kid’s good,” the stoic satyr remarks, earning a proud smile from Ikaro, who rejoice in the rare praise.

“Could you two share with us what you’re thinking?” Noor’s sharp tone sliced through the air, clearly aimed at Ikaro and Entinos. They exchanged a brief glance, a subtle yet loaded moment that spoke volumes. Ikaro, who had been gripping the edge of the table, seemed momentarily lost in thought, while Entinos, ever stoic, merely raised an eyebrow. The unspoken understanding between them was palpable, as if they were already strategizing beyond the present discussion. This quiet bond, built perhaps on a shared respect for tactics and combat, felt unshakable. Noor’s irritation only deepened at their silence, her sharp gaze bouncing between them demanding answers.
Ikaro blinked, as if jolted from a trance. “Hmm, yes, sorry,” he said, shaking his head as if clearing his thoughts. “We’re going to divide the undead army to increase our chances of isolating the hive mind,” Ikaro declared. As he spoke, a flicker of determination lit his gaze, which rippled through the group, replacing apprehension with tentative hope. All eyes turned to him, each person silently weighing the boldness of his plan against the stark reality of their odds.
“And how exactly do you plan to do that, genius?” Iris asked with a smirk, her playful jab softened by genuine curiosity. She always found her brother’s tactical ideas amusing, even when they bordered on reckless.
“If you haven’t noticed,” Noor interjected with a raised eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “undead aren’t exactly known for their intelligence.”
Ikaro grinned, unbothered. “That’s why we’re using our dear chosen Kayn here.” He gestured toward me, his tone turning serious.
I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms. “Am I going to be bait? Again?”
“Not really,” Ikaro began, “Well, not exactly,” he added, his tone faltering slightly, as though unsure of how to best explain his plan without inviting skepticism.
I sighed. “Great. Go on.”
“The Erebosian won’t waste an opportunity to target you,” Ikaro explained. “Why bother going after the Oracle when they can eliminate the biggest threat first?”
“That makes sense,” Iris said as she considered the idea. “He’d send his strongest undead toward Kayn.”
“Exactly,” Ikaro agreed, his enthusiasm growing. He signal us to look at the map of the city on the main table in the room and pointed at a spot near the temple. “Look here—this hill above the temple. The undead will likely come from these two main entrances: one to the left of the city and another near the cemetery.” He jabbed at the locations with his finger, marking them decisively.
“He’s right,” Solon said after a moment, nodding slowly. His expression was a mix of surprise and respect for Ikaro’s strategic insight.
Ikaro leaned over the map, his finger tracing the intricate layout. "We’ll **** the horde into this central area," he explained, tapping the barricaded sections marked in bold red ink. "This zone is flanked by narrow alleyways and dense structures, making it ideal for bottling up their numbers. If we use the militia strategically, we can funnel them directly into this **** point, maximizing our defensive advantage." “Here is where the strongest militia **** will hold. We’ll set up checkpoints at the entrances to thin their numbers. By the time they reach the center, Kayn will have a clear path to lure the hive mind to the hill, where we’ll take it down.”
“But that will leave us surrounded by the horde,” Noor pointed out, her sharp eyes scanning the map for potential flaws.
Ikaro’s gaze darkened, his usual lighthearted demeanor replaced by grim determination. “…I know. It’s all or nothing. We won’t survive another night like this. Every move we make tonight has to count.”
“Ikaro, you know these people aren’t fighters, right?” I said, my voice steady but firm, urging him to consider the weight of his plan on the civilians involved.
“I know,” Ikaro admitted, exhaling slowly. His tone softened as he turned to Noor, cutting off her protest before she could voice it. “That’s why Noor can’t go with you to face the hive mind. I need you with me. After Kayn, you’re the most powerful among us and the only one who can give us an upper hand with magic.”
Noor hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before nodding reluctantly.
“How does everyone feel about this?” I asked, looking around the group. Despite agreeing with Ikaro, I wanted to ensure everyone had a voice.
“This boy’s plan would be more than approved by my people,” Entinos said, his stoic demeanor breaking slightly with a rare note of admiration. “I’m in.”
Iris studied the map one more time before nodding. “It’s reckless, but it’s our best shot. I’m in too.”
“One suicidal plan after another,” Noor said with a smirk. “Maybe after this, we can take a vacation to Hades. Sounds about right for us.” Her teasing earned a chuckle from me. “I’m in.”
“What about you, Solon?” I asked, my tone more measured. “This is your city, your people.”
Solon exhaled heavily, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the decision. “This plan… it’s risky. My people aren’t trained soldiers. They can’t hold their ground without proper leadership.”
“I’ll lead them,” I said firmly. “And after I head off to fight the hive mind, Ikaro will take command. I trust no one else more.”
Solon’s gaze lingered on me, and then on Ikaro, before he nodded solemnly. “Very well. Let’s do it.”
“Well then,” Noor said, clapping her hands with a mischievous grin, “who’s ready to kill some undead bastards?”
The mood lightened slightly as everyone began preparing for the task ahead. As the group dispersed to finalize the plan, Noor grabbed Ikaro by the arm and pulled him aside.
“Something wrong?” Ikaro asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
“Yes,” Noor said, her eyes narrowing. Without warning, she punched him in the stomach with surprising ****. “That’s for reading my books, you asshole,” she snapped, her eyes narrowing with a mixture of irritation and amusement. The unexpected retaliation hung in the air for a moment, drawing glances from the group as Ikaro doubled over, clutching his stomach.
Ikaro straightened slightly, wincing. “Sorry,” he gasped, holding up a hand in surrender. "Won’t do it again."
“You bet your ass you won’t,” Noor retorted, though her tone softened slightly. Then, lowering her voice so only he could hear, she added, "Good work, by the way. If you need to know something, just ask me next time, you idiot."
…Thanks,” Ikaro muttered, still wincing.
“You’re welcome,” Noor replied with a rare smile before turning to rejoin the group.
Ikaro straightened up, rubbing his stomach and shaking his head as he followed her. The tension between them seemed to ease, their strange friendship intact as we all prepared for the battle to come.