Chapter 46: New Summons

Charon cringed as he heard the downstairs door get kicked in, followed by the sound of boots stomping throughout the house. Emerius stood by the side of the deadbolt, his swords raised to cut down the first man who entered. His eyes were full of determination, but they crinkled at the edges, proof of his worry. "Do you think we can take them all?" His friend’s gaze flicked from him then back to the door, a single word on his lips. "No." Charon exhaled sharply, not expecting that answer. ’There has to be some way out!’ He paced the room, muttering to himself as he tried to come up with something, anything, that could make things easier for them. ’Souls.’ The Warden’s voice caused him to pause. With a start, he activated his holo-pad and mentally swapped to the tab listing his only ability. [Ability Name: Soul Summon] [Ability Element: Soul] [Ability Description: Using the most precious item to all living things, reach beyond this world and cross the River Acheron. Upon its cursed banks lie creatures banished from all other realms, waiting for a new purpose. The greater the offering, the further back you may go, unleashing powers long thought destroyed. Heed the warning of Death himself: The chains that bind are not made without purpose.] [Current Souls] [Novice: 5] [Acolyte: 1] [Apprentice: 0] [Journeyman: 0] [Mage: 0] [High Mage: 0] [Master Mage: 0] [Archmage: 0] A smile split his lips as he realized that could be the solution. Sitting on the floor, he closed his eyes and searched for the energy in his core. He found it quickly and began to coax it into action. It lethargically flowed from his chest to his shoulders, but a heavy pounding on the door broke his concentration. His eyes snapped open, worried that they had already broken into the room, but the door held firm. Emerius stared at him, perplexed, but said nothing. Knowing that their time was running short, Charon closed his eyes once more. He grabbed the energy and commanded it to work, pushing his will into the spell. The mana flowed through his chest and into his arms, collecting in his palms before vanishing, his control failing. Charon gritted his teeth and clenched his fists before releasing them and taking a calming breath. ’I need to focus. Distractions are going to get me killed!’ Inhaling, he cycled his breathing and tried again. The mana trickled through his imaginary fingers, running along his skin and chilling it. There was a desire within it to be activated, to take form, but it needed a stalwart intent to do so. He fed his will into the spell, telling it what he wanted. ’Soul Summon five Novice summons, and one Acolyte. Soul Summon five Novice summons, and one Acolyte. Soul Summon five Novice summons, and one Acolyte.’ Charon repeated the command again and again, letting it suffuse his being before bothering to enact his ability. Only once every other sensation faded into nothingness did he let it take hold, the mana shooting up his spine and down his arms. He felt a pinch behind his eyes as the world disappeared, his feet landing on a familiar beach. The sun was high in the sky, beaming down on him with unforgiving rays. The ocean lapped up onto the shore, white foam coating its surface. Turning to face the land, he saw six skeletal figures standing before him, kneeling. Five of them were barren, just being bleached bones held together with magic. Shortswords hung sheathed at their waists, and round shields were suspended on their backs with a sash. They were arrayed around the sixth, who wore a full chestplate and greaves. His eyes held a purple glow, while the others had nothing but empty pits. His sword was slightly larger than the others, and a full heater shield was strapped to the back of his armor. Charon gave them a grin, and they rose, their swords and shields being drawn in the same motion. ’Now this is what a rare element should do!’ With a thought, he returned to the room, his legs still crossed under him. A rhythmic pounding was hitting the door, each strike ending in a loud boom. Emerius was shouting at him, pleading for him to stand and help him take down as many as they could. Charon just stood and smiled before activating his ability. Six purple orbs shot from his hands, landing on the floor around him and ballooning into man-sized ovals. Crackles of power sparked up and down the portals as six skeletons stepped out, their weapons at the ready. Emerius looked from them to Charon, a strange expression on his face. "Are they..?" He nodded and mentally ordered his summons to position themselves around the door, creating a small funnel. The armored one was opposite Emerius, while the others lined up beside them. Charon was near the end, his dagger being less useful than the skeleton’s swords. The banging continued, and the door began to cave in. Chips of wood broke off and flew back, some going far enough to bounce off the wall. The metal bolt holding them at bay began to bend, the metal tilting at an awkward angle, before one last blow snapped it in two. The door fell into the room, slamming on the floor. A huge soldier with a gauntleted fist stumbled after it, surprise clear on his face. Emerius ended him with a single blow, his head departing from his shoulders. More men followed behind him, storming inside with bayonets fixed on the end of their laser rifles. Swords flashed as the soldiers collided with the wall of skeletons. Blasts of red bolts shot out, most missing and hitting the walls, but a few managing to hit bones. Despite Charon’s expectations, they barely injured the undead warriors. Only black marks appeared on their frames, their ruthless attacks unwavering as they sustained more laser wounds. The leader was the most effective, his heater shield bludgeoning soldiers while his sword lashed out to finish them off. Charon even stepped back after a while, realizing he was more effective when ordering the skeletons rather than fighting with his measly dagger. With a thought, the skeletal leader moved closer to Emerius, aiding him more directly. Whenever his friend would dart forward to cut down a soldier, the skeleton would be close behind, covering his retreat by thrusting himself into the fray and distracting the others. Within a minute, over a dozen soldiers lay dead, the remainder reluctant to push into their airlock. Believing it was time to go on the offensive, Charon instructed the skeletons to surge into the next room. The leader was in the front, the other five fanning out behind him as they created a wedge. They cleaved through the soldiers, their attacks ineffective against the summons while their own blades proved more than adequate to carve flesh. Blood pooled on the floor as Charon mentally puppeted the six warriors, his smile growing wider with every kill. ’It’s almost too easy! They came here hoping to butcher us like livestock, and instead they are the ones dying!’ Heroic ideals were far from his mind as he savored the taste of victory, his ears deafened to the sounds of screaming and pleas for mercy. At a certain point, Emerius stopped fighting and began to watch. His brow was furrowed, but he said nothing, instead following behind Charon as they marched through the upstairs, and eventually, the downstairs as well. The skeletal leader thrust his sword into the back of a wounded soldier crawling out of the front door, his cries suddenly ending as the blade cut through his lungs. Only two men remained, the five rank-and-file skeletons finishing them with mechanical precision. Charon counted the corpses as they went, reaching a total of thirty-four dead enemies. ’I could have sworn the horde looked to be a little larger. Oh well, I’m sure there will be more opportunities to win some glory.’ A word he hadn’t considered in a while had slowly crawled into his consciousness, ringing in his brain like a gong. Legacy. It was such a sweet word, a powerful word. It promised life everlasting, built on the acknowledgement of future generations. As he studied the bodies, he realized that someone was missing. Frowning, Charon walked to the door, his summons and Emerius right behind him. Just like he had anticipated, a mage was waiting outside, his hands on his hips. Long brown robes flowed down his shoulders but parted in the middle, leaving his chest exposed. A black tattoo of a spike pit was painted on his gut. He clicked his tongue when he saw them leave the house. "Well, that’s what I should’ve expected when I sent a bunch of grunts to do my dirty work. You can’t rely on anyone else these days." Brown motes of light appeared in his hands as a chocolate colored warhammer appeared in them, one side ending in a spike and the other in a flat surface. "Never too late to fix my mistakes, though."