The Wellway was a large, fancy building, built like the kinds of places the fancy restaurants from Earth were trying to imitate. It was abandoned for now, but there were a few hired guards there already.

  “Seal the hole? That’s, uh. . .” Despite looking tough, they weren’t adventurers. Most of them weren’t classed, and the ones that were had no interest in getting into a fight against Marc or Berk. The math just didn’t add up for them. “Not possible?” the guard offered.

  “How deep is the hole?” Marc asked, allowing his general exhaustion to affect his voice.

  “Around 20 feet? Sometimes we put performers down there for the entertainment.”

  “Alright,” Marc said, “Cover the hole with something. If you’re magical, just do some stone slab spell or something. Then, pile as much weight on it as possible.”

  “Will that, uh, stop the monsters?”

  “No”, he admitted, “But they’re dumb. And, hopefully, lazy. If there’s another, more open exit from the tunnels, they’ll choose that one.”

  The guard looked worried, but nodded, “One of the guys has a brother who’s a carpenter. He can probably help make some kind of cover for it.”

  Berk gave him a reassuring smile, “That’ll do well. We need to be off, but if there’s any issues starting over here, send a runner to Vestac, that’s where we’ll be pushin’ them.”

  The guards nodded, probably thinking something close to “I am not getting paid enough for this”. Berk led the way to gather the group of four, while Marc split off to get Jacky and Lloyd. It was getting late in the afternoon anyways, and they had a long, long night ahead of them.

  Marc’s group were right where he left them, looking over the Royal Promenade. Thankfully the marketplace was nearly empty by now, and those who remained were all packing up for the night. The decision was made to not alert any of the non-combatant civilians, as it would likely cause a panic, though the guards told people to be careful with entrances to the tunnels. The two could more or less understand what was going on from the moment they saw Marc, ragged and fully geared up. He only had to explain that they were in the tunnels, and they were going to the compound.

  As the sun was starting to set, they all convened at Vestac manor, which was actually a large group of about five buildings surrounding a courtyard. They were let in quickly, recognized immediately through Berk. One of the family members, an elven girl named Darja, who looked younger than Marc but with scars for a veteran, was quick to wave them through.The Vestac family were exactly what Marc pictured an Aristocratic family would look like, with the added flourish of everyone carrying a sword or knife of some kind on their belt.

  They descended underground, until they came to a heavily barricaded room, Vault #3. With them were the few family members and house guard who were still within the Canopy, including the younger Elf and her father. The iron doors swung open without so much as a creak, locks shifting silently behind them. Once inside, the purpose of this vault became clear. It was where the family stored equipment for their young adventurers. This included Historia of all hues and look, the most Marc had ever seen in one place. They had ones for each of the 14 classes, but certain rarer classes like Chef they had but a singular copy of. There were weapons and armor as well, both mundane and enchanted, staves, wands, potions, rings. . . just about anything Marc was used to buying for his characters when he played RPG’s on Earth.

  And then, there was the missing wall. Seemingly torn open like paper, one wall was completely missing, opening only into the dark of the tunnels. It could easily fit three or four people entering it at the same time, and if squeezing like the undead tended to do, maybe twice as many.

  As they looked in awe at the wealth of equipment, they settled into an uneasy period of waiting. Nothing was out of the ordinary yet, but none of them could shake the anxiety building. Vara and Johann, as well as the glorifiers, Henry and Rin, were skeptical, but also unwilling to let this possibly be real without them being around. Henry was a Brute, Rin a mage. Seeing as they needed a watch at all times, they needed someone to sleep first, and the four volunteered, though they didn’t fall asleep quickly.

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  Berk and the twins were there as well, though the thieves were rattled. They were visibly shaking, and sticking behind everyone else. They’d “bravely” decided to stay up later for this one, but it was clear that none of the rest of Berk’s crew could sleep.

  The silence drew on as no one was really willing to chat about old times. Minutes turned into an hour, before the echoes of movement came through the yawning scar within the vault.

  Ratscal was the first to notice, as it seemed that the familiar’s animal instincts did pick up on the unnatural presence of them. Lord Vestac, a man named Branka, and his own animal companion were also quick to react. The animal, a large white leopard, growled quietly at his side, barely audible unless you knew to listen for it.

  Marc, Branka, and Berk stepped up to the rift. Berk chanted for a few moments, reaching into the stone of the tunnels to pull out his sabres once more. Branka held a mace in one hand and a dagger in the second, while Marc’s trusty axe was firmly grasped. Behind them, Vara and Henry, alongside one of the house guard and Darja, held spears or swords long enough to push back even from behind the front lines. the three rogues had daggers drawn, most of which were sourced from the vault itself. Their last line was the other House Guard, an archer, and the spellcasters. It was a cramped formation, especially at the back, but there was just enough room to fight.

  “Berk, lights?” Marc said quietly. The veteran nodded and chanted the light spell, casting it on Ratscal. The rat’s eyes shone like flashlights, illuminating the tunnels.

  They saw the undead, and the undead saw them. The world started shaking.

  Fray looked out over the wall. She was on the night watch, alongside some of the Dryad guards and her own party. This included the temporary inclusion, Griff the Hoplite. Nico and Barry had both vouched for him, which was enough to bring him along, at least for a while.

  The staredown between Dire Beasts and Grand Vale was breaking at certain points, more and more as the Flood went on. This was to be a bad Flood too, likely going on longer and with more dangerous Dires. Not to mention the mystery undead horde. The classed knew about it’s approach, but the Queen herself had given the order to not spread the news, on penalty of Exile. She was doing that a lot more recently.

  Fray looked over the top of the animals, towards the trees. Despite the damage to the land, the trees never seemed to be damaged. They hid the vast armies of monsters beneath their leaves. Then, beyond, there were two red stars. That moved, then blinked.

  Fray’s eyes went wide. She pointed at it, and her allies all looked. Helen went pale, muttering to herself in elvish, while Nico’s eyes narrowed in a way she’d rarely seen before, before he began his chant. Barry flipped up his burlap hood, and began casting a spell. It was a new one to him. Griff started regripping his spear and shield over and over, rolling his shoulders each time.

  The guards took notice, and nocked an arrow on their large bows of living wood.

  The ground started top shake and rumble, as Barry’s spell went off first. A miniature sun erupted above them, temporarily blinding the nocturnal predators, but more than that giving all of the wall the advantage of sight. Arrows flew, as did Griff’s javelins, summoned of pure mana. Fray took a dagger and poked the palm of her hand just enough to draw blood. Her armor was soon to follow, alongside her twin hatchets.

  Monster after monster fell, others fled, but the wall began to splinter and crack from the sheer force of the tremors. Nico’s first spell took effect, creating a large trench in front of the gate, but he had to start on another one right away to try and reinforce the wall.

  The two red stars, eyes of a Primordial Boar, grew closer and closer. Unlike the others, this monster had no qualms about trampling trees, or its own supposed allies. Its head was down, terrible tusks aiming for the weakened gate.

  “Helen! Spiral!” Fray called. The Ranger nodded, flicking her magically summoned arrow. Its tip changed from the broadhead design she typically summoned and came to a point with two small, razor sharp blades spiralling down most of the length. Against most targets, the former was more than enough, but this goliath had far more armor.

  She drew the arrow back, breathed out and tried to steady herself, and loosed the arrow, aiming right at the Boar’s eye.

  The boar exhaled from its massive snout, and the arrow was thrown off course. It landed nearly harmlessly in the fatty meat of its brow. But it was bleeding.

  Then, right beyond the edge of Fray’s magical reach, the Boar stopped itself. For a moment, the earth stood still again, but it would not last. The Boar, standing in place where only Helen had a chance of hitting it, stomped in place kicking dirt into the air, and wreaking havoc on any structure close enough to the tremors.