Necrophobia Read Online Free Page A

still alive?” She asked watching the blank expression upon the old man’s face.
    “Yes. I’ll question him once we have more time.” He rose and smiled at her. “Innocent people’s lives are still in danger. Let’s go and do something about that.”

 

     
    Reiner landed on the cold marble of the main hall without a sound, his legs braced for impact. To anyone outside the order an eight-floor fall didn’t end well, but Caelites have their advantages and secrets. Through training and their magics they could survive most inhuman falls with relative ease and clear obstacles in a single bound. The difficulty and focus required to perform such a manoeuvre was unforgiving and never taken lightly but it was one of the aspects they were most famous for and often exaggerated to the point of absurdity. As far as he knew no Caelite could clear the stronghold in a single leap let alone an entire mountain. The stronghold and training grounds reflected a casual indifference to height as a result. Cynthia landed beside him the impact dulled by potent aeromancy; she rose with a nod towards her superior. The battle raged on around them — lightning blasts tore into the walls and shattered nearby tiles. They channelled their magics in concert to deflect and dissipate hostile attacks whilst they waited for their comrade to land. The strain began taking its toll as more and more bolts flew their way, unlike them the undead did not tire or falter and advanced regardless of incoming danger.
    “He’d better get here soon!” Cynthia said through gritted teeth. “We could do with his magic.”
    Reiner nodded, his attention focused on trying to reflect anything he could towards his attackers. At least one blast struck its target — incandescent energy burning straight through the chest of an approaching undead neophyte. He recognised the face despite those hateful flaming eyes but felt shame as the name escaped him. The enemy stumbled and fell but survived; those eyes never straying from its target. Even as the neophyte fell three more took its place. Among them were former monks twisted and resurrected by unholy magic; their robes stained with fresh blood. Others were the embalmed and naked corpses risen from the mortuary, though unarmed they possessed inhuman strength. Without the brain’s protection their muscles exerted all their power; he watched in horror as their gnarled rotting hands clawed through plated mail and bent metal swords and spears. Seeing their Captain and comrade in danger more Caelites rallied and renewed their assault stabbing into the horde of putrid flesh and turned-allies.
    “Up there!” Cynthia struggled to shout over the deafening exchange.
    Above them brother Alvar tumbled in an uncontrolled fall struggling in vain to throw off a cloaked thrall gripping him. His spear useless in extreme close range. He punched and shoved but the blank-eyed thrall hung on tight as they accelerated towards the unforgiving ground.
    Reiner cursed and threw aside his own spear. He braced himself and with both hands focused his will; directing his energy towards the tumbling bodies. With immense difficulty he managed to grasp Alvar and channelled his mind towards slowing his descent. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as he focused; with precious few seconds left before impact. As he realised what was happening Alvar kneed upwards into the thrall — the hardened steel meeting vulnerable flesh, forcing the cultist to release his grip. He lashed forwards with his own magic — though weak and without preparation it was enough to separate them. The thrall freed from Reiner’s grip accelerated and slammed into the ground face first. Alvar hit the floor without elegance and winced upon impact; even with Reiner’s magic slowing his momentum.
    “I’m sorry Captain.” Alvar managed as he caught his breath back and forced himself upwards unsteadily.
    “Forget it.” Reiner grunted as he reclaimed his fallen spear.