BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER SYSTEM

1142  The battle for Maynard Island (19)

A Chimaeric Demon's blade flashed. The sparks created by the blade colliding with those of one of his undead brethren.

The clone almost felt physical pain in his chest, but for sure, albeit there was no physical wound on him, his heart was bleeding, and that was just because of who he was fighting against.

Even though his brother was now under the third division commander's control, the clone could still see traces of how he had been before.

It felt wrong to be trying to kill him, even if he was under Monica's control, and every time their swords clashed, it felt like he was betraying their master's trust, as if he were going against him.

But he knew he had no choice. His brother wasn't really there anymore. In front of him was just a puppet, reanimated by whatever power the blackguards' third division commander had. An empty body, a shell, and nothing more.

As he blocked another attack, the Chimaeric Demon promised himself he would end his brother's suffering.

Steel met steel as the two exchanged blows. The clone dove under a wild swing, retaliating with a thrust that would have been fatal to any other opponent.

The blade pierced flesh, but the undead showed no sign of slowing down. It was as if the blade didn't even touch him. Then the clone realized what he had to do.

"I need to cut the head."

As grim as even thinking about doing something like that to his brother was, he didn't have many choices. He could either do that or burn the opponent down.

It was just that fire would take some time before it would incapacitate the undead, or the puppet; severing his head was fast, clean, even merciful, in a sense.

The Chimaeric Demons were, though, not easily swayed by emotions. They were like Erik, and even if he had bursts from time to time, this didn't mean they, as his clones, had them often.

While the clone thought of a way to take care of the undead, he observed him and those around. There was something he noticed. The undead on the ground, contrary to what the Wyvern did, weren't using brain crystal powers.

This meant they couldn't, because if the Wyvern did, there were no reasons for the undead Chimaeric Demons not doing the same.

Either Monica could only make some creatures keep their powers, either they could use them under Monica's direct control, or there were some other limits taking place.

Regardless, that played to Erik's and the Chimaeric Demons' advantage. If the undead could use their brain crystal power, they would be able to heal themselves, and that was, for sure, something that would swerve the outcome to one, and one alone.

The battle would not be unceasing because there were too many opponents for the Chimaeric Demons to fight, and while they could heal themselves too, they would clearly empty their reserves of mana before their opponents did.

<I need to tell this to the others.>

So he did.

…

Around them, similar battles raged. A group of clones fought back-to-back against a wave of undead. They created a defensive circle, which helped to offset the overwhelming number of undead they were facing. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

There were no living blackguards anymore, luckily, as it meant the Chimaeric Demons only had to fight melee and could fully exploit their ranged powers.

There would be no barrier masters preventing them from attacking this way. For more than a few moments, the clone also thought about shapeshifting.

This way, they would be outside the undead clones' range. The problem was that the battle above, between Erik and Monica, was reaching levels where just being in the sky was dangerous.

The Wyvern released flames so massive as to encompass huge chunks of the battlefield below, and that was just with one attack. Erik wasn't doing something less dangerous, sending wind blades and water jets, hurtling massive boulders at the enemy, and discharging lightning at every turn.

Every kind of elemental power Erik possessed was being used. The sheer amount was so overwhelming that the sky almost looked like a blender.

Besides, the clones were sure that, if they took the sky, Monica would simply get down enough for her to target both the clones and Erik. Staying among the undead was the only way for them to avoid being incinerated by the undead wyvern's flames.

This didn't make their situation better.

The battlefield was a nightmare of familiar faces twisted by death. The clones faced opponents who moved with their same fighting style and who knew their tactics and strategies.

Yet the undead versions fought with reckless abandon, unconcerned with self-preservation, and unable to do too many complicated things.

…

A clone cleaved through three undead blackguards with a single swing. Three heads fell, but it was merely a drop into the bucket. The endless tide was slowly but surely overwhelming them.

It didn't matter how heavy the rain of fire that descended on the undead was.

Blood soaked the ground. The clones' tactics and brain crystal powers kept them alive, but fatigue was beginning to take its toll; their mana was ending. They reached a point where the only powers they were using were just healing ones.

Not even that often, as to conserve their strength, but enough to reduce the number of deaths. Though their movements, though still deadly, became less precise, their reactions a fraction slower, and the death toll only increased.

***

Amber crouched low in the shadows, her heart pounding as she observed a patrol of undead shuffle past.

June and the ten Chimaeric Demons flanked her, but they were not enough to keep her safe. At best, they could grab her and free her if things turned ugly. The undead couldn't shapeshift, which was the clone's only advantage, in case they chose to flee. Of course, they quickly understood that would be as dangerous as staying on the ground because of the black wyvern.

The problem was that shapeshifting required time, and taking flight required some too, meaning that if they didn't play it smart, they could be killed during the process. The undead were certainly able to do that.

They had descended the hill's eastern slope, using the scattered trees and undergrowth as cover, but Monica sent undead searching for the bodies of Erik's friends. She believed she had killed them, based on Erik's reaction, but she was not as stupid as not to send someone to search.

She knew it could be a ploy, so some of the undead had been sent around the hill to search for them.

The last thing Monica needed was for the sniper to attack her again.

The battlefield's chaos provided some concealment, but reaching their target position needed absolute stealth. They would die, otherwise flooded by the undead.

<We need to move now,> June said. A gap had opened in the undeads' lines, offering a window to get close enough for Amber to use her brain crystal power and maximize its effects.

Amber nodded, leading her group forward in a low crawl. The more they progressed toward the battlefield and the more the ground got slick with blood and other fluids, she preferred not to identify. Every few meters, they froze as undeads passed nearby.

They were heading for a small dip in the ground. This spot would help keep Amber's poisonous gas in one place and guide it where she wanted. But to get there, they had to cross an open area where they could be easily seen.

Amber's mana reserves were not that low now. She rested enough after her initial usage to recuperate, but she didn't have much either. She was far from being at full capacity, but she had to do what she could.

Her goal was not to defeat the undead, but to reduce their numbers or to make it harder for them to fight.

She only got one chance at this—what she was going to do had to count. The Chimaeric Demons spread out around her, forming a protective circle as they moved.

They ran across the open area. The battlefield in front of them was an ugly sight, filled with death and bodies as it was. Amber was the one who liked to kill less, even more than Emily, who wasn't used to her fighting, and seeing all of that, especially when the face of the one she loved was cold and still all around, wasn't easy.

Finally, they reached the depression. Amber went in the middle of the dip, the others staying as far away as possible to avoid getting killed themselves by the corrosive fog, and taking up defensive positions.

"Somehow they didn't notice us."

"It won't last long," June said.

Amber channeled all the mana she had available and then released her corrosive fog. The gas seeped from her body, pooling in the depression.

"June!"

"I'm on it!"

Then the clone turned into a black wyvern. That surely attracted everyone's attention, but luckily it didn't attract Monica, who was as focused as she was in fighting Erik.

June spread his wings and then pushed the corrosive fog forward, toward the already burning undead.

Those caught in its path dissolved, their dead flesh sloughing off in chunks. The gas wouldn't stop all of them completely, but it would slow down those it couldn't kill.

"Let's get out of here," a Chimaeric Demon said. He went to fetch the exhausted Amber and jumped on top of June with the other clones.