Both men stared with mouths agape at the large stumps fountaining thick, blood-like liquid. The three were each spaced evenly apart in a short line. The pool of crimson slowly crept outward.
The hair on Walker's arms and neck stood straight and he felt an anxious pang in his lower back, somewhat like what he imagined being stabbed felt like.
It was a purely nervous reaction, an automatic tensing of his muscles, in the false dread of an attack.
He had a very bad premonition, nonetheless. Not without reason, as the blood continued to seep over the rim of the top of the stumps, saturating the nearby area.
Wilford waved his bow between the three stumps but didn't fire, as he wasn't sure that would accomplish anything. Instead, he stood at the ready while his mind raced, trying to assess the situation.
Walker also nocked an arrow but didn't draw it fully. Rather than focus on the three stumps, he was trying to figure out what was giving off the eerie red light in the tree. Between the thick foliage covering the origin and the brightness of the light itself, he couldn't make out the source of the light.
Standing at such a distance, their colors remained unaffected by the light, which appeared to be permeating the surrounding area in the same manner as the fluid that was extending its reach from each of the stumps.
After standing there in silence for a few moments, the stumps were now fully saturated. Sticky red fluid dripped more slowly, as the flow seemed to have halted from down within.
The stumps began gurgling and bubbling loudly. A thumping noise sounded and suddenly, strange shapes toppled up out of the stumps in droves. They began falling limply onto the ground nearby in heaps.
With a rising sense of alarm, Walker tried to figure out what was coming up out of the stumps, but the red light drained the shapes of their color as soon as the fell and he couldn't make out what they were at this distance.
Something much bigger lifted up out of the rightmost stump's depression, so Walker let his arrow fly in its direction. The wicked looking arrow smashed into the limp figure as it rose up out of the stump and crashed into the ground below.
They were corpses. Dozens of bodies of birds, frogs, and numerous other woodland creatures sat soaking up the blood, slowly losing their own color under the strange light.
The hundreds of rotting creature corpses began twitching and throbbing wildly. Flesh, fur, and scales alike were sloughed off, and wounds torn open further, as they rolled around.
The red liquid rippled and splashed around. The liquid was filling in the spaces in-between as the corpses suddenly all began moving with awkward, unnatural movements.
Several larger animals rose up from the stumps and became stuck into the lip of the stump as they were too large. With loud cracks, bones and other limbs were broken or torn off completely as they rose up. They rolled aside listlessly and flopped onto the soaked ground.
The undead creatures started to converge into a single massive heap, while a few stragglers advanced toward the two men with a speed that contradicted their clumsy movements.
Wilford fired at one particularly large raccoon missing a forelimb as it raced toward them with teeth bared. The arrow struck it right in the center of its face, completely destroying its head.
Watching in disgust, the two noticed the creature did not rise again as the flesh began to melt quickly. They were unable to focus on that as some of the first undead creatures approached them.
Wilford shouldered his bow and pulled a one-handed hatchet from its leather holster on his belt. He began methodically striking the undead creatures as they approached.
Most had their heads split with one strike, but a few times he missed, or didn't completely destroy the head. He suffered a few bites and scratches, but didn't appear worried as he dispatched those.
Walker fired multiple shots at some of the larger mammals hitting the ground around the stumps but had varied success. The ones he did manage to kill similarly had the flesh melt away.
The pink-stained bones of several creatures left splatters of red fluid nearby that didn't seep into the ground. As other undead crawled closer they brought more of heavy fluid closer.
By this point, Walker was unable to continue shooting arrows as the gnashing creatures at his feet had become too numerous. He took a hint from Wilford and stepped back, shouldering his bow and drawing the black-handled dagger.
He felt lighter wielding the smaller weapon as he slashed outward enthusiastically several times. Several frogs and other smaller undead creatures suffered horrific gashes but continued to harass him. He wasn't successful in thinning their numbers much until he changed his own attack pattern.
Instead of slashing wildly, he started thrusting with careful aim. Striking the creatures directly in the head boosted his success rate of kills.
While they were preoccupied fighting off the approaching undead creatures, the small heap of moving corpses in front of the stumps had now grown to be a large mound. As they each writhed and rolled, they spread the liquid-covering each more fully.
Suffering more minor wounds, the two men noticed the fluid burned viciously when it touched their skin, but not with such a dramatic effect as what occurred to each dead creature. Countless tiny skeletons wreathed the ground around them, some crunching underfoot as they fought.
The mound of undead bodies suddenly heaved and surged as it slowly rose into the air. The liquid formed trails around the bodies, holding them together as it rose higher and higher. Eventually, it was a floating sphere of corpses with countless red rope-like lines netting the entire horrendous construct.
Walker gawked at the corpse-ball monstrosity while distractedly suffering a bite in his shin from a rotting canine of some sort. Wilford's face had a grim expression as he cleanly lopped the head off a yellow and black spiked lizard.
The floating ball of undead rose slightly and settled gently repeatedly while they fought the approaching creatures.
It was as large as some of the smaller farmhouses Walker had seen along the Capital Highway.
Walker noticed the stumps weren't ejecting anything further, and he felt some relief, albeit only a bit.
He continued stabbing at those creatures that still lunged and hissed at him but eyed the larger baddie ahead.
Both were pretty ill suited to melee combat, but they managed. If the enemies' numbers were the same, with larger, more dangerous ones included, then they would have likely been quickly overwhelmed in Walker's estimation.
As it currently stood, they held on but were still slowly losing ground, despite killing quite a few.
Walker idly wondered about switching to his bow and trying to shoot the corpse-ball, but he worried about making the transition while fending off the number of creatures he currently was, and he wasn't sure backpedaling would get him enough space to do so either.
While he stabbed with some small bit of indecision about the matter, Wilford leaped backward several feet while hurling his hatchet at the ground.
His hatchet struck a large undead mammal but not with the blade. Instead, Wilford's throw had rotated slightly, and it struck the creature with the flat hammer shaped backside. The throw still caved its skull in.
Wilford's leap backward wasn't terribly impressive, but it gained him some needed ground as he unshouldered his bow. He drew, aimed, and fired in a smooth, practiced motion and continued to do so quickly.
Each arrow struck the corpse-ball, and it seemed to reel with each impact.
Yet it was only for a moment as it resumed its normal floating rise-drop in place.
Each strike of an arrow dropped animal corpses which fell to the soaked ground. Those that fell into the puddle of red goo suddenly struggled to stand. Growling, roaring, and hissing they rushed to attack.
The now-replenished numbers of approaching undead creatures seemed to add an additional air of despair. The corpse-sphere seemed to shuffle the bodies around, dropping several impaled with the arrows that Wilford shot. It then shuffled further to cover up the holes made by the lost corpses.
The men both took additional involuntary steps backward. Walker was dumbstruck with how the attack on the sphere of undead creatures didn't really seem to cause it any real harm, nor even much distress. He reminded himself that he was distracted and he refocused as he struck with his dagger and then struck again.
Wilford muttered and grumbled to himself as he stomped on some undead and retrieved his hatchet. The short handled was ill-suited to attacking such small creatures but he reshouldered his bow and brandished the hatchet again instead.
Striking a few more, Wilford shouted, "We're scouts, not the combat professionals. We should retreat; we've got to bring information about this thing back."
It made sense to bring the information back to the commanders, even if fleeing didn't seem particularly heroic.
Dispatching a large brown fox with missing eyes, Walker nodded and then voiced his agreement. They both began to retreat quickly, while still facing the incoming enemies.
They had slain a considerable number of undead, but it soon became evident that the two men were primarily focused on retreating. In fact, they would likely be able to flee at full speed with just a little more distance. However, the mass of corpses seemed unwilling to comply with their plan; it suddenly surged forward with a speed that neither man thought possible.
Slamming into Walker, who was slightly closer, the rotten sphere speedily continued forward, without stopping, and likewise smashed into Wilford.
Both men were painfully slammed to the ground from the impact. Before either could stand or do anything else they were quickly overrun.
Walker felt the skin on his hands and face being torn, clawed, and bitten as he stabbed wildly with the black handled dagger.
The goo, carried by the undead creatures, seared his skin and made his wounds worse and the pain even greater.
Rolling to his right side he managed to turn onto his knees and tried to stand. He suffered many bites in the process.
Several creatures clung to his arms, attacking wildly and trying to climb higher. He unshouldered his bow and swung it around before he could stand properly.
Wilford had suffered greatly but had regained his footing. Blood dripped heavily from him and was also flung away as he continued hitting creatures with his weapon.
The creatures comprising the corpse-ball all suddenly exploded outward, striking both men viciously.
Walker turned sideways and lowered his head to shield his neck, yet he was still mauled and slashed by several different creatures. Then the creatures were suctioned back and smashed into a ball by an unseen force once more.
However, a sudden inspiration struck Walker, and a surge of excitement followed as he caught sight of something important-looking in the center of the now-smaller ball of undead.
It looked like vines, or tubes, of the blood-red goo connected to a lumpy walnut-shaped orb that somewhat resembled a brain.
'That must be some kind of core, controlling all this.' Walker thought as he fought.
Their situation didn't really give them an opportunity. The undead attacking them, though smaller, were vicious and both scouts bled from numerous woods.
The corpse-ball's expansion attack had left both with several serious injuries and it seemed to become more and more aggressive, trying to expand and smash them with rabid undead creatures over and over.
Wilford's breaths came in labored gasps as he swung and dodge another attack by the corpse-ball.
Walker stumbled backwards and nearly fell to the ground a second time, but he caught his footing and breathed a sigh of relief. His heart had leaped into his chest with fear before he caught his footing and was able to continue stabbing.
Although the three stumps were now a bit further away, the corpse-ball had mostly kept pace with them while its undead on the ground continued to rush to attack.
Walker thought they wouldn't make it back to the camp or even anywhere close to the road, but he was surprised when he heard several different noises from behind.
The first was a familiar voice, chanting. Her familiar brogue, while sometimes difficult to listen to, was music to his ears.
"Renounce doubt, reinforce will, protect creation!
As another wave of creatures from the corpse-ball struck outward at the same time, a spiral of green-blue light coalesced in front of both Wilford and Walker, forming a tall oval bubble in front of them both. The bubble of color absorbed the corpse-ball's strike as well as several smaller undead creatures attacking their feet and legs.
Some of other, much louder noises were the crashing of metal armor and weapons from three knights, led by Knight-Captain Teffrey, as they rushed from the nearby wood line with their weapons drawn.
"Swimming through time, the sands of regret can't hold us back!
Everyone felt something snap deep within their bodies and all of their muscles suddenly spasmed, experiencing a serious pain for only a millisecond before their untapped potentials exploded.
Walker's stabbing speed suddenly tripled and his legs felt freer and unconstrained.
The four knights rushed in front of the scouts and toward the corpse-ball simultaneously from different angles. Though their attacks were each different, shield bashes, a spiked mace smash, and a great axe viciously swiping, they demolished a large portion of the corpse-ball, spreading other corpses around but destroying quite a few from their attacks.
Walker saw the walnut shaped core through the broken corpses and red-goo lines around the entire orb. Several big holes were now apparent, exposing the core. That was even accounting for its size being reduced significantly to maintain its spherical shape.
Amberlin caught up, breathing hard but raising both runic-covered arms to the sky as she cried out
"Death Lords weaving imperfect life, restore lost time!
Whirling greenish-yellow ribbons spread out from her two hands and flowed downward, avoiding the ground and speedily rushing to both injured scouts.
The ribbons radiated a brilliant glow, scattering showers of golden sparks as they reached Walker and Wilford. The green-yellow ribbons then effortlessly merged into their wounds, causing both to feel a momentary surge of heat in their skin and blood.
Walker watched and felt the bites, scratches, and other wounds starting to close up. The hot sensation left him after a couple of seconds, and he continued stabbing at some of the rushing undead before he felt his skin and blood heat up again. The warming sensation again worked to close more wounds before it slowly faded.
Amberlin turned toward Walker and eyed him while trying to catch her breath. She didn't say anything, she merely watched him carefully as the four knights continued to beat the corpse-ball smaller and smaller.