Behind the wooden door were two panicked apprentices. They scrambled on all fours, and the moment they saw the storm atronach smash its way in, they started squealing with excitement.
"Over here, help us! Save us!"
Brelyna rushed in and took one look. Oh, great—this wasn't just one reanimated corpse, this was practically a mass grave. Ancient mummies, fresh corpses, half-rotted bodies, bare-boned skeletons, men and women, young and old, human and elf, every race you could think of. Anyone who didn't know better would've thought this was the charred ruin of a city after a massacre.
There were so many bodies that the underground cavern was jam-packed with them. Coffins were piled up on racks in several layers, and one after another the corpses were stirring awake, letting out miserable wails. The deathly miasma pouring off them alone was enough to make a grown man's heart give out.
"Where did you get all these bodies?"
The two apprentices were wearing masks, backs hunched, looking both sleazy and cowardly.
"Brelyna, you hold them off here, we'll go get Master Aren!"
"Hey!"
Brelyna turned, but those two walking disasters bolted at once—and even blasted the way back shut with a Fireball, collapsing the passage. Now even if Brelyna wanted to leave, there was no way out.
"Bastards!"
"K… kill… me…"
The freshly raised corpses still retained a shred of their former consciousness. Their souls had been forcibly chained to bone by necromancy, a horrifying torment where they had to watch their own awareness and emotions slowly fade, as if being forgotten by the world itself. That was why all they longed for was death. But under the summoner's control, their urge to attack was in no way diminished.
Brelyna instantly realized she'd been tricked. Those two weren't failed apprentices at all, but veteran necromancers.
And their outfits… looked awfully familiar.
The Order of the Black Worm?
Damn it, those lunatics have slipped into the College. I have to get this news back to them.
Before Brelyna could think any further, the dead surged at them like the sea.
The storm atronach showed its true power. This strange creature, like a floating pile of stones, was born to command wind and lightning. It planted itself in front of Brelyna, lifted its "hand," and loosed blinding bolts of lightning that blew apart a few tottering skeletons. Then it plunged into the horde, its rocky body spinning, crackling stones smashing into the dead with the force of battering rams. Wherever a corpse shattered, filthy blood sprayed like a fountain.
Brelyna could not help regretting never putting any effort into Restoration. If she could cast spells to banish the dead right now, they would be incredibly useful.
The corpse tide rolled in. One storm atronach alone was nowhere near enough to hold them back. Brelyna summoned a one-handed sword, hacking with one hand while casting shields with the other.
These days, with Skyl's help, Brelyna's grasp of every school of magic had improved. She had once specialized in Conjuration, but now she had a solid understanding of Alteration, Destruction, and Illusion as well.
Once she had layered Ironflesh on herself, Brelyna felt much more at ease. The armor Skyl had made for her already offered excellent protection; it did as much as possible to make up for a mage's "glass cannon" weaknesses.
She took a calm look around and realized that although the number of corpses here was enormous, they weren't all that dangerous. As long as you could withstand the foul magic pouring off their bodies, you'd be fine.
Brelyna bared her snow-white teeth.
"Let Brelyna Maryon of House Telvanni end your suffering."
Fireballs and steel joined the fray.
There was pitch-black blood everywhere. When it splashed onto the frozen permafrost and rock, it didn't freeze; instead, it steamed into dark red mist.
Brelyna caught a whiff of something ominous.
"Damn it."
A powerful sense of dread rose inside her as the poison began to work.
In a daze, Brelyna saw a familiar Khajiit corpse walking toward her.
"Maryon, k… kill J'zargo…"
As it passed the storm atronach, it was blasted to ash by a burst of furious lightning.
"No!!"
Brelyna's eyes flew wide.
The Khajiit's soul whispered to her: "Thank you."
A Nord corpse appeared not far away. The storm atronach lifted its hand and shattered its ragged skull with a single blow.
"Thank you."
Brelyna fell into terror. What is going on?!
J'zargo, Onmund… don't tell me…
Every staggering corpse in the horde turned into a member of the College. They wailed and begged Brelyna to grant them release.
The storm atronach had gone berserk.
Whose corpse is that? The Arch-Mage? Boom.
Whose corpse is that? Mirabelle Ervine? Boom.
Whose corpse is that? Tolfdir? Boom.
No, they're all illusions. You can't fool me!
Brelyna stumbled backward, bumping into things. "Get away from me! You bastards!"
She followed the storm atronach, hacking and blasting a path of blood through the horde. The ominous mist around them grew thicker and thicker.
That sickly sweet smell made her want to retch.
"You Black Worm bastards, I swear you'd better never let me see you again…"
Brelyna's steps turned unsteady. She slowly collapsed. The ground beneath her was slick with blood and a thick layer of bone ash. The horde of dead wasn't even fully destroyed yet—those undead who had taken heavy blows but not yet come apart were still swinging their broken limbs, crawling toward her.
The storm atronach's massive body was already crawling with severed arms and legs. It was starting to move sluggishly, its form coming apart.
They're all illusions… all illusions… I need an antidote.
Brelyna crawled along the ground, groping about. Her hand had long since slipped from her sword hilt. Buried in the deep layer of bones, a potion satchel lay half exposed.
"This is…"
Brelyna stared, horrified.
"Skyl… oh, no, no… please don't let it be you…"
There were plenty of scrolls and potions inside the satchel. Brelyna grabbed it, drank an antidote, then tore open scrolls to summon more storm atronachs, flame atronachs, and frost atronachs. The corpse horde was wiped out completely.
The coffins and wooden racks in the cavern were shattered, and bone ash covered the floor like Winterhold's snows in Morning Star, the first month.
Brelyna sifted through the ashes.
"Skyl… Skyl… please, don't…"
"What are you looking for?"
A familiar voice suddenly sounded behind her.
Brelyna went rigid and twisted around. She saw Skyl's infuriatingly smug face.
"What happened here?"
Skyl blew a soft breath at her. Brelyna's vision swam, and when she came back to herself, there was no bone ash, no corpse tide. The storm atronach was quietly pacing in the corner, and the cavern was spotless except for a few barrels of potatoes left by previous apprentices.
"A magnificent fight!"
"That was all an illusion? J'zargo, Onmund, and the Order of the Black Worm and…"
Brelyna's thoughts slowly caught up. Her cheeks flushed bright red and she glared daggers at Skyl.
"Master Skyl, you are an utterly hopeless bastard."
"Don't be mad, hey, Mage Maryon! Wait for me!"
Brelyna strode for the exit. Skyl ran to catch up and stepped in front of her.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Mage Maryon, I was wrong."
"Do you have any idea how worried I was? When I saw Onmund's and J'zargo's bodies, I thought, I thought you were…"
Brelyna's eyes were rimmed with red, her voice choking.
"So your hallucinations were that elaborate?"
Skyl was a little baffled. He hadn't actually controlled the details of the illusions; everything that happened in them came from the victim's own mind. All he'd done was set up a Resident Evil-style zombie horror scenario for Maryon.
Only after a long explanation did Brelyna finally understand what Skyl had actually been doing.
"This is how you test people before letting them into your society? You really don't understand people at all." Brelyna was exasperated. "Master Skyl, leave this kind of work to me from now on. I'm afraid one day the society members are going to gang up and beat you to death."
"… …"
"And another thing—forget everything that happened tonight."
Brelyna wiped her tears away. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
"Sigh… Skyl, you're just like Magnus—so dazzling, and so cold."
Brelyna leaned in slightly, meeting Skyl's eyes.
"Don't worry. From now on, all you need to do is shine."
Her gaze was something Skyl had never once managed to read.
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