The Ultiplex of Aeva LeVeaux Ch. 04

The Ultiplex exploded into life with a flash of lightning, an arc streaming from the blade and turning its foes to dust. Death boiled the blood of its enemies and fear clouded their minds, despair broke apart their morale and wisened the youth of their stature. Within moments, they were gone, their presence altogether stricken from the lands, and so it was that Aeva LeVeaux stood panting, clutching the hilt of her monstrous blade. The sounds of battle rung out all across the camp, and as Aeva peered out she perceived at once the great struggle of her Doom-Riders.

Zabrael had become aware of the pursuit some days ago, or so it seemed, for verily could Aeva sense his power vested in the nature of her enemies. Flesh golems presently tore apart the camp, doing battle with the Doom-Riders, who while freshly woken were fully equipped, not to be easily taken off guard. The sentries around the perimeter had proved keen of sight and fast of warning when the fleshy, humanoid monsters rushed the camp. Thus it was that the battle was not a slaughter or foregone conclusion, and much success was had against them. However, it seemed Zabrael was more powerful than for which Aeva had given him credit, as the creatures kept pouring in from every angle, overwhelming the two-hundred riders at her command.

Aeva stepped over the golems who had attacked her tent, now literally ablaze through the fire of her discontent, the flames giving light to the surrounding battle. Armoured Doom-Riders were everywhere, fully equipped with their bows on their backs, longswords sheathed at either side and greatswords ready in hand. They bravely battled the mindless golems, which looked nothing so much as men of adult stature turned inside out, blood dripping from their skin wherever they went. Their hands were like solid clubs, used for bludgeoning their enemies, and proved effective against Aeva's men. After all, despite the thick plate armour which shielded them from harm, it seemed that one Rider could only kill so many before being overwhelmed. Indeed, there seemed more than could be believed, constantly streaming in as fast as they could be cut down by impressive, wide-arcing swings.

The horses were nearby, protected in a temporary stable, and without them victory seemed impossible. Aeva at once saw this and called several Doom-Riders to her side, twenty rushing quickly to her aid. "Carve a path to the stables, the men must mount in order to achieve victory!" she commanded. The Riders were fast to respond and did as they were bidden, attempting to smash through the sprawling mess of the golems. Aeva fought at their forefront, the thin, black blade of the Ultiplex swirling with a shadowy trail. With intensity, passion and a raw, demonic speed, it arced up and down, here and there, slipping between the chests of golems and ripping them apart. Flesh exploded in every direction, blood bathing the ground, and Aeva destroyed sometimes five or six in a single strike; so did they carve a fast path to the stables.

Golems poured in from behind, rushing into the empty space which had been created. They attempted to flank Aeva and her men, but were met instead by her as she turned and glared evilly. Aeva pointed the blade at the rushing mass and released a bolt of solid, black lightning, twisting and annihilating the air as whipped and sizzled into them. The energy hit the first of the rushing golems, reducing it to ash, then leaped to the next and the next and the next, continuing to cut a line of destruction across their path. Whenever the golems rushed in behind, Aeva repeated such an act, having but to level that tremendous power to sweeping them aside. Meanwhile, her men rushed within the stable and readied the horses with haste.

Things began to look grim elsewhere in the camp, many of the Riders having taken some twenty golems each, performing legendary acts of swordplay and receiving fortuitous saves from their situation. But they could not survive forever in such a fashion, so completely overwhelmed by the enemy, and so it was that some began to falter, falling into death where they remained for eternity. However, the daring of Aeva suddenly won through, and as she had cleared a channel from her tent to the Stables, so did mounted Doom-Riders pour out, unleashing newfound death upon the fleshy forms of the golems, washing over them in a wave of unstoppable carnage.

Horses began to appear everywhere, trampling golems and fighting their way to their masters, each knowing their own intuitively. It was not long before every man had been mounted, regaining the greatest tool in their arsenal, the speed and mass and force which gave such great potency to their destructive potential. Yet still the golems kept on coming, for they had not yet exhausted their formidable numbers. Aeva rallied the Doom-Riders around her, forming them together as they broke away from the camp, trampling and rushing away from the enemy who gave chase. Whether they were aided by a blessing of haste, or if it was merely the superior nature of their summoning, Aeva could not tell, for the golems came at them with a speed almost comparable to that of a mounted Rider.

Now freshly out upon the plains, with great speed behind them, Aeva led the Doom-Riders soas to gain some distance. Then, as quickly as they could, they turned around together and rushed the golems with their swords. Aeva pointed the tip of the Ultiplex at the thousands of monsters, calling into being such destructive power that it washed over the horde and broke it apart, destroying some fifty-percent of its numbers. So cataclysmic were the streams of fire, ice and lightning, that it appeared to brake Zabrael's connection with his creations. The golems lost their minds and their direction, ceasing to respawn just as the rushing tide of the Doom-Riders swept through them. Within moments, they had obliterated all that had survived the onslaught of the Ultiplex of Aeva LeVeaux. Looking at the blade once more in awe and reverence, yet now also perceiving it as her own, Aeva looked at it and spoke softly. "We have done well, but there is clearly much left to do."