Book 1: Chapter 69: The Swarm That Walks.

Book 1: Chapter 69: The Swarm That Walks.

Blessed silence came as we passed beneath stone arches, the irritable noise of the dungeon left behind as we descended. Monuments and murals to ancient beings lay carved within every surface save for the floor we walked upon, no two the same. Decades and centuries of history passed us by, unappreciated in our hurried wake.

The Overmind awaited. Traps lay open and empty with every step taken, ingenious designs that I shuddered to think of in action. Once more, I was the honorary torchbearer, in the lead to ward against treachery.

But no flame was needed where we dared tread. The downward slope gave way to massive gates of steel that were barred tight, massive slabs of iron from which only orange light escaped. This deep glow spread across the party as we approached. One last check to ensure all were at ready, and I heaved the doors open. Steel screamed upon rarely used hinges, and my eyes were forced open as I embraced the light.

What lay within defied reality. A deep orange sun was set in the rock above, a pulsating mass of light and heat that baked the sheer rock below. We emerged unto the throne of arrogance, steppes of stone and steel that flowed upwards past statues of ancient gods that bowed in irreverent glory to the figure at this mountains peak.

Mortalis. Came the swarm of a hundred voices all at once from a single figure at the mountains base. Something massive turned towards us, a tyrant of spikes and sinuous limbs. A dozen eyes that burst with divine power regarded the insects before it, the mountain of carved gods to its back.

Overmind. I returned, blade at hand as we tentatively closed the distance. The creature seemed..unconcerned as we drew near. It towered over even me, of massive size and unshakeable strength. Obsidian plates covered its form, flowing down into a long battle-dress. It seemed like someones idea of an ancient priest, with symbols grown from its body in place of wearing anything.

Is this what they have named me? Came the voice akin to a whirlwind of leaves and a low buzz that irritated my skull. It cast no shadow, I saw as it stood perfectly beneath the sun mounted into the roof above. It speaks to arrogance. Alludes to being above the rest of my kind.

Are you not, then? Velton queried. The elf gazed on with fascination. Upon the magical plane was a layer to this creature my eyes could not see, no doubt.

Your false Gods have deemed me the Apex of my kind. They do not understand me. Thrust words and meanings upon me so they might give me shape. Apply meaning to my existence.

Your Gods? I asked. Like all others of its kind, there was an aura of wrongness about this thing. A pervading sense of unease that one garnered simply by viewing it. It came forth in the way it stood, its bodys structure, the aura that surrounded it.

They are not worthy of my worship.

You give fealty to the Gods Below? Lerish spoke. The huntress had moved off to the side, eyes cast about for anything that might be of use.

Traitors. Usurpers. They founded this all on the greatest of lies. Creators of my kind though they are, I refuse to give them my respect.

If not Gods then, what are those? I gestured to the mountain that stood carved in painful detail behind the great being.

These hands, unworthy though they may be, will create a pantheon worthy of my worship. Who I may bow to and feel respect as I look upon their forms. It will be a long, harsh road, but of this I dream. Of a home for the Arnthema to one day live.

Know this; I cherish this dream with every fiber of my being. Stand in its way, and I will unmake you as dust upon the wind.

We are one. Though this crude temple I call a body may house the spirit, I am every one of the constructs you have met. Every being you have given battle to. Every body you have slain. I have known the weakness of the flesh, that it may falter and fail me. I also know of you.

You have come here to slay us. It stated. The being remained unconcerned even as the party had spread out in preparation for violence. In your eyes, We are a threat to your short lives.

You say otherwise?

Missiles whistled through the brimstone air, lances of force and magic that decimated swathes of Swarmlings. Lerish crouched somewhere high above, streams of metal death let fly down towards us. A Champion loomed before me, only to stagger back as half its head vanished. The Claymore helped liberate the rest.

Velton was locked in magical combat with the Arnthema Overmind, a glance told me. The air was strewn as spells tore at reality, fireballs, lightning bursts and spears of sheer force running haphazard through the air. An ice missile crashed into the pack of monsters before me. The explosion of cold yanked me backward, eyes wide from the sudden pain.

It was about then that I realized by hatred for magic.

Every problem that had really, truly given me pause had been magical in nature, insofar.

The elf suddenly tumbled through the air, overwhelmed. I caught his form with one arm, the other busy with matters of decapitation. Blood was snorted back into his nostrils as he regarded the Swarm-form high above.

I may have underestimated its full arcane abilities. He admitted with a grunt of pain.

Happens to us all. I spared a moment to reassure him. You know better now.

Aye. He replied as I turned to punch an Arnthema workers head off. That I do.

It was about then that I realized every corpse in the room was locked in levitation. It took all of a heartbeat to glance between the shielded, hovering figure and the sheer mass of corpses that were drawn towards it for realization to strike me.

Oh no. Was all I uttered.

Kill it. Kill it now! I bellowed with all the capacity of my lungs.

The primal spirit minotaur protested as I disturbed its rest once more, yet I did not care. Fight as it did, I forced it upon this world. Brazen Bull Behemoth distorted the air as I focused now, vulnerable for but a moment as I summoned the ancient being into reality. Velton came to my aid, hexblade in hand and flame in the other as Arnthema swarmed towards me.

With a little more leeway, I might have attempted to summon the behemoth above where the Overmind floated now, to see it crushed by the weight of the fall. This was not to be. Instead, it came into existence and immediately began to thrash about, bloody carnage in its wake. That was not what I needed. I required something to attack the Overmind itself. Lerish missiles sparked its shield, yet she was only one woman.

Spirit hatchets swirled through the air, volleys of violent force hurled by Tehalis. Sunlight gleamed as Ishilas great spear was brought to bear, all blinded for but a moment. Heavens lance flickered through the air with speed beyond all but Gods, might inorexible levied at the half-orcs foes.

The Overmind simply moved aside. It transcended space for a heartbeat, its form physically shifted through reality and emerged unscathed as the lance tore into the ceiling above. Tonnes of rock crumbled down in the distance, the vast cavern beginning to crack from sheer pressure and damage. Bone blade could not reach the creature as the Behemoth tried to swipe. A statue ripped up and thrown at it merely broke against its shield.

Bodies massed through the air, material to the furnace as limbs were pulled apart and swirled around the dark hurricane. I commanded Velton to target those, and firestorms were pulled from the miniature-sun above to set the stream alight.

My body balked against the heat of what came, but it was necessary.

Too little, too late. All ceased, and as I watched, a demi-god descended from on high. A fluid body made of a billion parts, all in perfect movement and synergy.

The Swarm That Walked opened its maw, and storm clouds tore through the rock, headed right for me.