A lone dreadnought rolled through mounds of bodies. Corpses were piled high in the border region between Martes and Viernes. More corpses than either country, nay, more corpses than both countries could possibly provide. They were not here from some hostility between the two nations, in fact, Viernes was actively supporting Martes in its struggle against the Ever-Decaying Lord’s various subordinates.

  The corpses were here because the laws of reality were starting to thin.

  Viernes’s top Chosen, Fuerte Elegido, sat at a desk inside the vast mass of steel plating as it slowly steamrolled through the once clear border region. It had not been long since the conflict started, less than a month in fact, and they still had limited intelligence to go off of. However, the ruins of numerous towns and cities, including the vital port city of Donnerstag, told the world plenty.

  This wasn’t a war of conquest. It was a war of extermination.

  In the days after the Martes Missionary Relief Fleet had disappeared, allied forces had lost more and more ground. In less than a month, nearly a third of Martes was either in active conflict against hordes of undead and mentally ill cultists, or was in dilapidated ruins. Thousands of soldiers had died, and hundreds of thousands of civilians were turned into zombies, joining the horde that trampled their countrymen to the ground.

  Thus far, the horde was contained to mainland Martes, and had yet to spread to outlying islands. The Viernes border, though heavily contested, remained intact thanks to the masses of troops sent by the Diell Empire. Viernes had only a dozen Chosen of its own, including Fuerte Elegido, and the Empire had sent two dozen more to bolster defenses. Martes was reduced to just three of their own Chosen left alive, disparate and isolated. The capital had not yet fallen, but it was within mere miles of the horde.

  Elegido read a tomb on summoning magic. It was his specialty, and by the looks of it, the specialty of the opposition here. Of all the Passengers in the world, Elegido was one of, if not perhaps the, most well versed in the process of summoning spiritual creatures. That was one of the reasons why he was here, in this dreadnought, as it slowly rolled over the mounds of undead.

  Elegido came across an interesting passage and bookmarked it with a note, then got up from his desk and exited the room, making his way to the command room. He was met with a flurry of activity, soldiers carrying messages and writing documents going to and froe, and a radio transmission was in the process of being received.

  Though the technology was not commonplace, Elegido was aware of the concept, and soon tuned in to what was being transmitted. The transmission was difficult to decipher, with numerous words being missing or out of place, but the situation was made quite clear.

  Dragon

  More

  Too many

  Demigod

  Elegido sighed. There had been more and more claims of a demigod active in Martes, and he was under no illusions. The Ever-Decaying Lord was a Devil, one of the most powerful entities in existence, and if He had sent a demigod, it could mean only one thing.

  Martes, and perhaps Viernes as well, was truly doomed.

  Not for the first time, nor for the last, Elegido instructed the radio operator to only pass along the information that there were more undead imminent. If the troops learned what they were really fighting against, they would lose their nerve. He needed them to stem the tide of undead until the Empire and the Accepted Pantheon’s churches could figure out what to do.

  …

  The flapping of vast wings could be heard, even overtop the churn of the dreadnought and the crunching of thousands of bones underneath it. A roar, loud enough to pierce straight into the command room, rattled glasses and struck fear into the hearts of ordinary soldiers, and even many of the Passengers on board.

  Dragons were creatures of myth. Spiritual animals, plants, or even microbes were well known. From drakes trained to guard bank vaults, loup-gaurus capable of making mincemeat of a special ops squad in a second, or giant turtles the size of islands with entire villages built on their shells, the infinite Realms of the cosmos held any number of beasts.

  Dragons were different.

  For one, they were intelligent. Aside from human beings, they were the only entities in the cosmos that had the capacity to engage in conversation, albeit only with telepathic forces at play due to the difference in vocal cords.

  For another, they could use magic. Aside from human beings, they were the only entities in the cosmos that had the capacity to precisely control their harmonization with their Realm and employ its powers with discretion.

  Though they couldn’t Shift, in all other ways, they were far superior to normal human beings. Their speed both on land and in the air was comparable to alpha predators of the Physical World, their scales were as hard as wrought iron, their teeth were able to pierce through the teak of a frigate, and many could breathe fire, frost, acid or chemicals associated with their Realm.

  In short, a dragon was one of the most dangerous creatures in the cosmos.

  Elegido sighed again. Standing up straight from where he was stooped to listen to the radio transmission come through, he exited the command room and made his way to one of the heavy, reinforced steel blast doors. Not a soul accompanied him, partially out of fear, partially out of respect. They didn’t need to accompany him.

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  If Elegido died, there would be nothing the rest on board could do to stop the threat anyway.

  The machine slowly rolled to a stop, the flapping of wings getting closer and closer. A spiritual pressure was felt throughout the dreadnought, causing many of the regular soldiers to physically shake in their boots. Even the Passengers on board started to sweat. Elegido simply shook his head and stepped out.

  A whiff of decay struck him. The stark stench would have been enough to make a normal human fall to their knees and vomit on the spot. Masses of undulating zombies were all around him.

  Fuerte Elegido simply cracked his knuckles and looked to the sky, extending his arms to praise the sun, the Mind Most High, casting purifying light down on the area. Hundreds of zombies burnt to a crisp underneath the sun’s rays before it was blocked by a massive shadow.

  A large creature, easily ten meters long, with a wingspan of two dozen meters, absorbed the rest of the spell without much visible harm.

  Viscous liquid streamed down from open sores on its form, and its wings were fleshy and tattered. Its face was a partially exposed skeleton, and its scales were partially decomposed in many areas. It was a zombie.

  Taking out a stick of scented beeswax, Elegido smeared it across his nose. The sensory experience of gunpowder and terracotta instantly filled his nostrils. He took out a pair of blue terracotta gauntlets, and wore them. They fit tightly around his bare hands, with no padding. Taking out a one shot blunderbuss, he aimed towards the beast as it descended from the sky and pulled the trigger.

  A series of golden beads were expelled from the blunderbuss, each one of them consecrated by a priest of the Mind Most High before Elegido had left Viernes. While he was still too far for his firearm to have maximum effectiveness on contact, that wasn’t its point. The sensory stimulation of the sound going off served to further connect him to his Realm.

  Between the scent, sound, and texture, Elegido was as harmonized with his Realm as was possible going into the fight.

  The beads mostly missed the zombified dragon, though some of them struck true, causing small pricks of holy fire to drill into its wings or scales. It roared again, causing the troops inside the dreadnought to quake in fear, but Elegido was unaffected.

  He jumped out of the way as the beast crashed into the ground where he had stood, alighting on top of the dreadnought.

  “My will creates your form.”

  He shot out from his position straight into melee with the dragon, against the beast’s expectations. His gauntlets crashing into the snout, he managed to push the creature back and dart to the side a number of meters, leading it away from the dreadnought.

  “My spirit allows your path.”

  The dragon lunged towards him, going for a clean kill with a bite attack. Elegido narrowly dodged, bringing his gauntleted hands up to push off of the creature’s head, flying backwards further.

  “I summon you, Seguro Apollyon!”

  Elegido darted out of the way of a claw attack from the dragon as the corpses around him on the ground shook with the force of a localized earthquake. The dragon took to the air, but Elegido was unfazed. Next to him, a warping of the space and air transpired, forming into the rough shape of a door or passageway to a Realm filled with the scents of gunpowder and blood. A hand, swollen and huge, passed through first. Then the corresponding arm. By the time the Dragon was fully in the air and circling the area, the summoned monster was fully manifested.

  Its form was roughly humanoid, though it stood four meters tall. It had four arms instead of two, and its muscles rippled with energy. The entire thing looked like it would nearly burst, such was the mass of its muscles. Its head was obscured by a samurai helmet made of lacquered paper and a blueish bronze metal. It held a three meter long katana at the ready with two of its hands, while two of its others outstretched to protect Elegido from harm.

  This was his trump card. He could only summon it when he was at his fullest harmony with his Realm or else its longevity would be insufficient. It was no simple spiritual animal, but rather the monstrous remains of a Chosen that had misharmonized while in his Realm. His expertise in summoning magic allowed him to form a pact with the creature as if it were a spiritual animal, summoning it to his side for brief periods of time.

  Thus, it was every bit as strong as a fully trained Chosen.

  Elegido pulled out his blunderbuss once again and shot towards the dragon, which was circling in the air. Small pricks of holy fire dug into the living corpse, but once again did little lasting damage. The dragon roared again at the sight of a new threat, but the apollyon was unfazed.

  Tensing its muscles, it leaped high into the air in a blur of motion, its katana sweeping downwards. Were it not for the dragon’s mastery over its aerial movement, it would have died.

  As it was, the beast was still taken by surprise at the speed and strength of the opponent. The katana clove into its left wing, sending a spray of blood and mucus pus downwards. The apollyon landed with a shockwave as the dragon roared in pain, struggling to stay in flight.

  Applying more scented beeswax to his nose, Elegido wasted no time in mustering another chant.

  “This strike shall ring true, on my soul.”

  The apollyon reared back its two right hands, both gripping the oversized katana.

  “This beast shall be slain, on my soul.”

  The apollyon dug its feet deep into the ground and got into a stance sufficient for throwing a javelin from.

  “Mind Most High, bless my strike!”

  As his chant ended, Elegido surged his spiritual energy into the tip of the massive katana, empowering its blade in the split second that the apollyon twisted its hips and launched the weapon streaming towards the struggling dragon. A sonic boom was heard as the blade passed the sound barrier.

  With its wing having been heavily damaged, the most the creature could do was twist its body so the thickest of its scale were facing the blow. It didn’t matter. With a sound of shattering iron and breaking bones, the katana pierced through the dragon’s body. A dazzling flash of purifying light accompanied its strike, and the dragon fell to the ground with a resounding thud.

  It had not even used its poisonous breath, nor had it thought to escape. The mental faculties of a zombie were, after all, limited.

  The katana flew for a few dozen more meters before it crashed down into a mob of zombies, eliminating a hundred of them in a shockwave of leftover energy.

  Sweating and spent, Elegido ended the summoning of the apollyon and slowly made his way back into the dreadnought.

  It was the third time this week he had had to go to such lengths to escape a difficult situation unharmed with his troops mentally intact.