All the Dust that Falls

Chapter 143: May You Always Find Shelter and Shade

What's it like to be a god? I wasn't sure how to respond to such a question, even if the man could understand me. I didn't feel godly. But then, the system did tell me I had formed a religion. I even got experience from my followers, so who was I to say I wasn't? I was just happy to have so many friends, so many humans that I could take care of. Sure, they weren't the same as my all-knowing and magnanimously perfect humans from back home, so I was performing more than just my primary functions to help them out.

It was stressful sometimes but overall rewarding. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I tried to convey the summarized thoughts. The man nodded. "Of course, who wouldn't want to be a god? It must be awesome. Vast cosmic power and all that. Say, why do bad things happen, god?"

What did he mean? Why do bad things happen? That is just how it is. I didn't create the world; I don't control it. That didn't seem like a super satisfying answer, though. Hmm, perhaps a more philosophical approach would work here. So I asked him why did he do bad things? Answer a question with a question. This was fun. I felt very mysterious. Was this what gods did?

"Sure, sure. Why should you care what happens to us puny mortals? Zombie plagues, no big deal right?" The man said without a hint of bitterness in his voice. Somehow I didn't feel that he really answered my question. Was he even listening to me?

"Well, at least the people here seem relatively safe and all. They seem happy too, I suppose." The man said pensively as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. "Is that the kind of god you are? You protect your own? I guess that makes sense. Why should you bother to help those that don't give you anything? But then, why did you let us come in?"

Hey, do you even understand me? I tried to ask the man, but his face didn't really change. I was pretty sure that he didn't recognize me changing the topic. Still, he didn't stop talking. "I guess I would do the same. That's what I did. I protected my own. But after I failed and we all fled to Caleb, I was called to protect others. Not my own. Why should I sacrifice for them? I didn't know them. I knew my town. I knew them all, I knew each person's name and their kids too. But a bunch of strangers? Why fight for people you don't know?"

He definitely doesn't understand a word I am saying. Yet he still kept talking. Humans did that a lot, it seemed. They even did it to each other when they could understand each other's words perfectly. They would just talk without listening to the responses. It didn't make any sense to me. What was the purpose of the conversation except for exchanging information?

Apparently, he found some value in it as he kept talking. "The others, it made sense for them to leave. Their families are still out there somewhere. Or, at least they thought they were at the time. I just left to support them. At least that's what I told myself. Really, just watching the undead from the walls was driving me crazy and I wanted out."

I figured that it wasn't worth saying anything if he wouldn't understand, but he seemed to be waiting for my response. Humans were so weird. Instead of trying to respond to his story, I asked him what his name was.

"My name? Oh, I suppose we did skip introductions. The name is Mat. It's nice to meet you, Void," He responded. Wait. What. Did he just understand this one thing, or did he understand everything I was saying? I decided to give him a bit of a test. So I told him that I wasn't actually a god. Instead, I was summoned from a normal world with much more competent humans.

"What was I saying? Ah, yeah, I left. I didn't want to die for the strangers behind me. I would rather fight with my squad. At least I knew them." He continued. Well, I guess he only understands some things, kinda like Beatrice in the beginning. I supposed if I kept talking, then he might understand more.

What should I tell him, though? It sounded like he was asking for forgiveness for leaving a fight to go with his friends. Was it forgiveness or understanding he wanted, though? This was far beyond my abilities, but I guess this was a divine responsibility too?

Finally, I had an idea. Not everyone can stand in defense of strangers, but at least he stood with friends rather than standing alone. I beeped out my message, not really sure if it was sufficient. I didn't really understand it, but it felt like there might be a deeper meaning in it somewhat.

Mat didn't respond. For a long while, we just sat there in silence, listening to his friends' inefficient charging through the walls. After some time, Tony rounded the corner of the hall and saw Mat and me leaning against the wall, sitting on the ground.

----

Roscoe watched as the wraith called all the shades they had been summoning for the past several days to him. The translucent and debonair gentleman raised one gloved hand, then all the moving shadows stilled for a second before streaming into a row in front of him.

They had been working on getting shades to understand ranks for the last day or two, but they were incredibly stupid. Even zombies could walk in lines. Shades, though, didn't understand the concept of space the same way physical beings did. So when they were asked to create a line and then, once the line was full, create a new line behind it, they didn't understand. The line couldn't get "full" when incorporeal beings were involved. They just stacked on top of each other, the line of shadows getting progressively darker with each new addition.

Roscoe and the wraith had decided to give up on the intimidating endless ranks of shades they had first imagined. It was all the wraith could do to keep them in line and go where he directed. Still, the concentrated aura that they gave off might be enough to inflict some real damage. It just wasn't going to be the coordinated wide sweeping attack that he had in mind when concocting the scheme. Instead, the wraith and its shades would be a wrecking ball that would nearly be impossible to stand up to.

If they could have enough of an impact, then it wouldn't be an issue to make an opening to get the more standard troops in. Without any ceremony, Roscoe and the wraith walked and floated, respectively, toward the city walls of Caleb. There was no point in delaying. The shades would only last for so long before they faded, and they would need to get replacements summoned. Besides, this was just a test run.

The horde of zombies stayed unmoving, surrounding the city, but as the pair approached, they parted. A straight path to the gate of the city appeared between their ranks. Stopping just outside of ballista range, Roscoe gave the signal, and the wraith moved forward on his own. Humans might not be able to see the undead apparition, but they could certainly sense its approach.

Men on top of the walls began to shout in alarm, but it cut off as their bodies locked up with fear. That was his signal to send the troops in. Roscoe stood in place as the undead streamed past on either side of him. They had no siege equipment that they would have been able to operate anyways. The elite skeletons were perfectly capable of setting it up for their brainless brethren to use, but that would require them to get close to the wall first. Roscoe wasn't able to risk his best troops on such a target yet.

The shades were disposable. All they cost him was a bit of time, energy, and easily gathered resources. The wraith had made it to the walls and started draining the petrified soldiers atop the gate with the help of the shades, and the horde was almost at the gate. Suddenly, waves of strange energy emitted from the center of the city.

Roscoe and the zombies were unaffected, but the wraith visibly staggered back. Almost instantly, the soldiers were freed from its compulsion. The siege defenses fired one, stalling the hordes' advance. The wraith recovered, and the soldiers froze up again. The damage was already done, though.

The single volley only had bought them a few seconds, but reinforcements were flooding in from within the city and other parts of the wall. The wraith couldn't hope to keep them all under his thrall, and the battle raged for the gate.

Not for the first time, Roscoe's troops made it to the top of the wall. The foothold was a slippery thing. He had learned to not let up any pressure elsewhere to try and flood it too much. The human commander was tricky and would use that to wreak havoc in the bottleneck, trying to expand the foothold. So the tactic Roscoe had devised was to intensify the pressure on either side, trying to take the walls. This way, most reinforcements got sidetracked trying to prevent future breaches.

They had never been able to hold their foothold, but it made removing the undead insanely costly. Getting down the other side of the wall was almost harder than getting on. Being undead, they had tried just jumping down, but there were barbed spike fields that held the zombies in place just below. So they needed to take the stairs leading into the city. But those stairs were covered by endless arrow slots from the internal towers. The other option was to take one of the towers; so far, that hadn't worked either.

Since this was a test run, Roscoe didn't try to force the issue. Instead, he had the smallest amount of troops he could spare dedicate themselves to holding the positions with minimal casualties. And it took a lot for a zombie to become a casualty. If he had taken part of the wall, he was going to make it as hard as possible for the humans to take it back.

He had left the wraith to make its own decisions throughout the battle, and that delegation paid off. It moved to the side, fully cutting off nearly half of the efforts to push them off the wall. The wraith was not invincible, but the counters for it were quite specific. Until those counters were prepared, then he was nearly impossible to move.

Just when Roscoe was sure he was finally going to come out on top of an engagement, the gates began to open. Trumpets sounded from within the city, and to his horror, an answering call came from the forest, just past his troops. With thundering hooves, heavy cavalry shot out of the gate.

Roscoe scrambled to get his troops out of harm's way, abandoning many on the wall. He didn't want to get pincered. Instead, he would let the reinforcements come, then he would herd them back into the city. He only hoped he had enough troops to keep the city locked down after this was done.

Then he considered his next moves. He couldn't abandon taking the city just yet, but if reinforcements were coming, then he might have to go find more personally. It was time to take personal charge of recruitment.