It had been a little over a month since Albert had gone to the café with Cecilia, and to say that he had gotten his fair share of taunts from me would be an understatement. It was crystal clear to me, master of the ladies, that Albert felt even stronger about Cecilia than he had done about Emma. And his feelings only seemed to grow over the month following their date.
Funnily enough, I met Cecilia in the corridor that day. She was standing outside the door to Albert’s room on the tenth floor of The Tower, seemingly trying to build up the courage to knock.
In her hands, she held a small box wrapped in white and gold. She nervously tapped the sides of the box with her fingers as she stared at the door, taking deep breaths.
I, too, held a small box in my hands, but mine was wrapped in a wider variety of colours. It may have been a little distasteful, actually. The wrapping paper had pink, yellow, baby blue, and finally white stripes. It wasn’t as visually appealing as Cecilia’s wrapping, but it did the job, didn’t it?
The boxes that the two of us held were, in fact, birthday gifts for Albert. It was the twenty-first of February, meaning that today was the day that he turned fourteen.
It was a big day. Fourteen was the Age of Passing, in the eyes of RoCitian law, which meant that today was the day that his Aid would officially be disbanded. From this day forth, he would only be able to call upon them in extreme situations.
That would certainly be causing Albert some struggle. He would now, essentially, be stranded. And, Gods, now was a horrible time to be stranded. Even without the war with France.
‘Getting cold feet?’ I taunted as I got closer to Cecilia.
She whirled on the spot, her eyes widening.
‘Thank the Gods you got here!’ she exclaimed, sounding almost out of breath.
‘How long were you planning on staying out here, huh?’ I continued as I raised my hand to knock on the door. ‘Until Tartarus freezes?’
Cecilia cut me a rather sarcastic glare. ‘Very funny, Ethan.’
I shrugged innocently, letting my hand collide with the door three times. ‘He wouldn’t mind if you went in without knocking.’
Her cheeks flared. ‘Shut up.’
‘Come in!’ came Albert’s muffled voice from the other side of the door.
‘Harvey’s already in there,’ Cecilia added quickly as I placed my hand on the door handle. ‘He’s been in there for like fifteen minutes.’
My eyes widened. ‘Is that how long you’ve been waiting out here?’
‘Just open the door,’ she said quickly. ‘It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been here.’
I obeyed her orders, entering Albert’s room so that I was met with the familiar short grey-walled corridor.
Cecilia and I walked along it, gifts in hand, until we came into the living room at the end, where Albert and Harvey sat on the green sofa, engaged in conversation.
‘…telling you, something’s gonna happen,’ Albert was saying. ‘He’s gonna launch an attack or something cuz it’s my birthday.’
‘For the love of Olympus, shut up,’ I groaned, tossing my head back for added effect. ‘How can you already be talking like that?’
‘I’m being serious!’ Albert retorted defensively. ‘I know him! He’s gonna do something purely because it’s my birthday!’
‘Hush,’ I spat defiantly. ‘And happy birthday. We’re glad to accept you into the Fourteen Club.’
‘Just cuz I’m not an old bitch like you,’ he smirked. ‘And thanks for bringing a gift, you didn’t have to. Especially you.’
His eyes flicked toward Cecilia as he said the final sentence. Gods, if he were trying to be discreet about his feelings then he needed to learn how to stop giving her that look.
‘I’m getting you one every year, so you’re gonna have to learn to deal with it,’ she smirked right back at him. ‘When are you gonna open them?’
‘When everyone gets here,’ Albert shrugged. Then, he gestured to the numerous snacks around the room and the ones that lay across his kitchen counter. ‘But the four of us can enjoy ourselves while we wait.’
‘Have your Aid come up yet?’ I asked, leaning against the wall as Cecilia went over to the kitchen to grab a light bite. ‘They’re being disbanded today, right?’
A sudden dark look appeared on Albert’s face, and he didn’t give me eye contact as he responded.
‘Yeah,’ he sighed. ‘But I asked them not to come up in the morning cuz I’d be with you lot.’
‘Wonder what jobs they’ll take up,’ Harvey thought out loud, looking at the ceiling. ‘There’s gotta be something available for them, right?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ Albert’s response was directed at Harvey, but his eyes were fixated on Cecilia, who was only grabbing a bag of crisps. ‘But they’ve gotta be ready to be summoned. I can call on them in dire situations til I’m eighteen.’
‘I hope this is all over by then,’ I groaned. ‘I don’t know if we can cope with four years of this.’
‘You and me both,’ Albert sighed, still watching Cecilia as she wandered back over to the living room and sat next to him on the sofa. His eyes lit up. ‘But if that cunt shows his face near me again he won’t get away like last time.’
‘Strong words,’ I scoffed, nodding.
The four of us laughed together and ate as the rest of the friend group gradually joined us, each of them bringing a gift for Albert. And, as Peter had predicted shortly after his arrival, Jay was the last one to join us.
‘Am I late?’ he said quickly as he rushed into the living room, his curly brown hair a mess.
Albert smirked. ‘No, but you’re the last one here.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know, feather-boy.’
Everyone laughed at that. Jay, evidently proud of himself, puffed out his chest before, in a rather anticlimactic move, walking over to the kitchen to grab food.
‘You gonna open them now?’ Harvey asked excitedly. ‘Now that everyone’s here.’
‘Wow, no pressure or anything,’ Albert scoffed. ‘Way to put the spotlight on me, man.’
‘Only for the birthday boy,’ Isaac taunted, grinning cockily.
Albert’s brow furrowed. A rather peculiar look of concern crossed his face before he finally decided on his response. ‘Please never call me that again.’
‘Only once a year,’ Isaac fired back cockily.
‘I think I’ll start opening the gifts now,’ Albert murmured, wincing.
After an entire minute of nearly unbearable begging from Jay, Albert decided to open the gift from him first.
Originally, he had intended to open Asbel’s first, as we all pretty much knew vaguely what it was going to be. But Jay’s constant begging did things to a person.
Albert slowly tore at the green wrapping paper. Predictably, there was a cardboard box underneath. Upon opening it, Albert found a photo frame. At first, everybody seemed confused, but then Jay explained himself.
‘You mentioned like two weeks ago that you wanted a photo of us all,’ he said awkwardly, staring at the carpet. ‘We can take one and you can put it in that.’
This was true. Albert wanted the friend group to take a photo together so that we had something to look back on when the war was over.
A fat grin immediately appeared on Albert’s face. ‘Thanks so much, man. We’ve gotta take it sometime soon. Never know when something might happen.’
‘Shut your damn mouth,’ Peter said quietly. ‘Just enjoy the gift and don’t make it depressing.’
‘Yeah,’ Asbel chimed in. ‘Open mine before you can find a way to twist the photo frame into Maltor attacking or something.’
Albert scoffed. ‘Alright, alright, sorry. Wonder what balls will be in this box.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Harvey spat.
Peter and Stephen simultaneously began to howl with laughter as Albert’s face went slightly pink.
‘Asbel’s good with making balls and stuff!’ he yelled defiantly. ‘Oh my Gods, that’s not what I mean! Like the explosive ones I used against Righello!’
I let out a stifled laugh that came out as a splutter. Albert cut me a nasty look in return.
‘Anyway, thanks for the gift, Asbel,’ Albert said quietly.
The box that Asbel gifted Albert was smaller than Jay’s and wasn’t wrapped. Albert tore it open excitedly, only slowing down and taking caution when Asbel let out a sudden yelp.
Inside the box, there was a large crimson ball. As everyone had expected, Asbel had made something.
‘It’s like a larger explosive ball,’ Asbel explained. ‘There’s only one cuz it’s a lot of work to make. But, yeah, it’s a bit heavier but makes a larger explosion than the other ones.’
‘That’s so cool,’ Albert breathed. ‘It’s like you’re constantly going back and improving previous designs.’
A sly smirk slowly grew on Asbel’s face in response to the compliment. ‘Thanks, man. I do try.’
‘And it works,’ Ali added, leaning forward from his spot on the wall next to me. ‘That’s so cool. I wish I could make things like that.’
Asbel shrugged. ‘One of the perks of being a son of Hephaestus.’
Once everyone had gotten past the large explosive ball, Albert moved on to the gift that Natasha had gotten him.
He shook the blue box gently next to his ear. It seemed as though he was using his enhanced hearing to attempt to guess what was inside.
‘Sounds like multiple things,’ he said finally, smirking at Natasha.
She stared blankly at him. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Albert tore away at the wrapping paper and did the same to the cello tape around the cardboard box beneath. Inside was a sword kit. There were brushes of various sizes, paints of numerous colours, and a range of other useful items.
Albert’s face lit up. ‘Thank you! The blood stains are getting a bit- What?’
He had stopped due to Peter, Ali, and Asbel all rolling their eyes at him.
‘I’m only telling the tr-’ Albert continued defensively, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door.
‘You invited someone else?’ Harvey asked innocently.
‘No. It might be Charlotte or something. But I made it clear that I didn’t want anyone to bother us. Come in!’
The person at the door was not Charlotte. We all heard the door open and then deep footsteps gradually get louder as the person walked towards the living room. Upon seeing who it was, Albert’s eyes widened along with mine.
‘G-General Woodward?’ Albert stuttered. ‘But why-?’
General Woodward was the head of the RoCitian Army. He was nearly six feet tall, broad, and wore a serious expression on his face that added to his imposing appearance. Although not visible due to his camo military cap, he had short black hair, which was the same colour as the stubble on his square chin. His blue eyes glanced at each person in the room in turn.
‘Prime Minister Albert, I require your immediate attention,’ he announced swiftly, performing the RoCity salute.
‘Gods, he looks serious,’ Ali whispered to me, eyeing the General’s military uniform, which was decorated with numerous medals.
Albert, out of nothing but courtesy, rose from the sofa and performed the salute, staring at the General.
‘What?’ he asked defiantly.
‘I will not reveal what or why I need you in this room, sir,’ Woodward replied snappily. ‘At the very least, not in front of the Apercaput students. You must come with me.’
He paused for a moment, before continuing.
‘Actually, Mr Brown could be of use as well. The two of you are to come with me.’
Albert glanced at me, and I nodded tightly.
‘Fine, we’ll come, but we will discuss what must be discussed in the corridor outside, no further.’
The General nodded.
Albert quickly apologised to everyone before he and I exited the room with the General, shutting the door behind us on the way out.
‘What is it, then, General?’ Albert asked, trying to maintain his composure. But I knew that he was fearing the worst. I knew him. And I was fearing it, too. ‘Why do you need us?’
Woodward sighed, looking from me to Albert and then at the floor before finally locking eyes with Albert once more.
‘Defense systems on the coast and in the north have alerted us to an oncoming army, sir.’
‘On the coast?’ I breathed. ‘What do you-’
‘A naval fleet,’ General Woodward interrupted. ‘Battleships and submarines are hastily making their way to the coast.’
Albert stared at the General, aghast. ‘You’re taking the piss. Tell me you’re joking.’
‘I am not, sir. And I do wish that you would stop being surprised whenever Confussée launches an attack. We are at war, sir. And, in fact, it’s not only him. The naval fleet is French.’
‘No. No chance,’ Albert fired back quickly. ‘To think that the French navy-’
In an almost comical fashion, a large explosion rocked the window at the end of the corridor as the result of some sort of missile hitting.
‘What the fuck was that?’ Albert roared, spinning on the spot to face the window.
‘I say we thank the Gods that The Tower can withstand a blast of that power,’ Woodward breathed, astonished. ‘Sir, we must make our way to the HQ quickly and safely.’
Harvey ploughed through Albert’s door, his eyes wild.
‘What the fuck was that about?’ he yelled. ‘Has Maltor got fucking missiles now?’
‘It’s the bastard French,’ Albert spat. ‘They’re here, too. Come on, let’s get to the HQ.’
‘You’ve gotta let me come with you,’ Harvey said quickly.
‘No,’ Woodward fired back immediately. ‘As an Apercaput student, it is required that you pass the test before entering the battlefield.’
‘Then let me come,’ Jay’s voice said suddenly as he appeared in the doorway. ‘Nobody else, just me. I live here. And, hey, I’m a son of Ares, you’ve gotta let me join the fight.’
Woodward opened his mouth to argue, but another blast of flame appeared at the window, causing Albert to cut him off.
‘Don’t argue with him, General! Take the three of us to HQ! Now!’
Reluctantly, Woodward grabbed me, Albert, and Jay. I questioned what he was doing at first, before remembering that he was a wizard. He was going to Apparate us to the HQ.
I closed my eyes in anticipation. Before long, the familiar, stomach-churning feeling took over my entire body. And, when I reopened my eyes, I found myself in what had to have been the HQ.
We, along with about a dozen other people, now stood at a large table, atop which was a basic map of RoCity. The lighting in the room was dim, so a lot of its features were unknown to me. Pretty much all I could see was the map.
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‘Glad you got them,’ a middle-aged woman with greying black hair said tightly. ‘Who’s the curly-haired one?’
‘Jay Stewart,’ Albert answered. ‘Son of Ares. He’s going to the battlefield.’
‘Idiot boy!’ Woodward roared suddenly, glaring at Jay. ‘Where’s your weapon?’
Albert had his tool belt on, so he was ready to go at any moment. I didn’t have a magic tool belt, but I did have a sheath on my waist, which is where my sword was. Jay had nothing.
‘Oi, watch it!’ Albert roared back. ‘Don’t raise your voice at him! You know damn well that there are spare weapons here! He can take one of them!’
‘Shut it!’ a large man roared. ‘Listen to the damn plan and stop behaving like children!’
Albert and Woodward awkwardly stared at the map. The middle-aged woman from before began talking.
First, she pointed at the east coast. ‘The French fleet is here; they’ve already arrived. We already have a large squad fighting them, but we’ve already taken a lot of casualties. We were thinking that you, Mr Santrrer, could head to the coast and fight off the fleet. Your power over water will help a lot.’
‘But if Maltor’s here then he’ll be here,’ Albert retorted quietly, pointing to the northern side of the Valley on the map.
‘I’ll go there with Jay,’ I said instantly. ‘I’ve been itching to get at him for months now. If he’s there, I’ll fight him.’
‘There is a huge land army there, Mr Brown,’ the middle-aged woman argued. ‘It would be unsafe.’
‘I can handle it,’ I said defiantly. ‘And I’m not known for good decisions. I’ll take out as many soldiers as I can, and if I see Maltor then it’s on sight.’
Nobody said a word for a moment until Albert spoke up again.
‘There’s no point standing here doing nothing while soldiers die out there. Woodward, take me to the coast. Then take Ethan and Jay to the north side.’
‘Understood, sir, but one more thing must be briefed,’ Woodward said firmly. ‘On the coast, the goal is to merely stop the ships from getting to shore. Push them back. But your friends’ objective is to actively push forward against the opposing force. Do the three of you understand?’
We all nodded.
‘Then it’s settled. Stewart, get a damn sword. Then we’ll go.’
Jay scuttled into the darkness for a mere ten seconds before returning, holding an iron sword.
The General grabbed the three of us again, and I watched the world around me morph into a dark grey swirl before finally becoming the east coast.
‘Holy Mother of Titan,’ Jay breathed.
‘Holy Mother of Titan’ was right.
Huge steel battleships loomed over the shore, firing huge shells at the beach, and some even soared overhead towards The Valley. The sky was alight with their flames, a thick cloud of ash covering the area above our heads.
RoCitian troops desperately fought back, but it was clear that it was hopeless. Our measly spells weren’t doing anything to the battleships. Multiple soldiers flew in the skies on pegasi, but over half of them were shot out of the sky. The few that remained either landed on the battleships or shot spells from the sky.
‘Have you not put a child of Poseidon here?’ I roared at General Woodward. ‘Were you just waiting for Albert?’
Woodward glared down at me. ‘Do not question military tactics, boy! And do you really think anybody would willingly make themselves the centre of attention here?’
Albert unsheathed his swords. ‘Get to the north! I’ve got this!’
‘Don’t die!’ Jay yelled over the noise of the shells.
‘Can’t make promises,’ Albert snarled, snapping his black wings out from his back. ‘And the same goes for you two! If I find out Maltor killed you, I’ll personally see you get sent to Tartarus!’
He leapt into the air, flapping his wings as he did so. It wasn’t long before we lost sight of him amongst the ash.
‘Quick! Let’s-’ I began, but I was cut off by Woodward following my command early. The east coast quickly morphed into the northern side of the Valley.
Woodward had brought us to a somewhat safe spot, a fair bit behind the front line. But, even from where we were amongst the mass of soldiers on the field, we could see how bad the situation was.
Countless dead bodies lay scattered around, their blood turning the grass a horrible shade of dark green. Dark green was usually my favourite colour, but there was something about this particular shade that made it incredibly stomach-churning to look at.
‘You are to find Clark!’ Woodward barked. ‘You cannot miss him! Tall, muscular, long brown hair! You will find him and stick close to him and his squad! He should be directly in front of us!’
‘Understood, sir!’ I barked in response, briefly performing the RoCity before unsheathing my sword. It didn’t even gleam.
Jay copied my manoeuvre, and then the two of us were ready.
‘Good luck, sons of Titan and Ares,’ Woodward said, a lot softer than before. ‘Return to me alive.’
I nodded. ‘Come on, Jay.’
The two of us turned away from the General and ran forward, straight into the fray. The further we ran, the more chaotic the scene became. There were more dead bodies, more fighting pairs, and a lot more blood.
‘Uh, Ethan,’ Jay murmured. ‘Where is that Clark guy?’
‘No clue,’ I snarled. ‘But we’re finding him then Maltor.’
I stared at Jay. His blue eyes showed nothing but pure determination. Maybe it was because he was a son of Ares, but something always seemed to change in Jay whenever there was a fight.
And it was at that moment that I became thankful for William’s training. If it weren’t for it, I would not have been able to react so quickly.
Somebody charged at Jay from his right, and he didn’t see them coming. The attacker’s strawberry blond hair flew wildly around their head as they raised their sword, ready to strike Jay.
‘Smoke Breathing, Second Form: Undetected Lunge.’
I shot forward with tremendous speed, sweeping my sword up as I did so. My blade connected with the attacker’s, but neither of us stopped there.
I leapt back to avoid one of his strikes. His sword crashed down, narrowly missing the front of my T-Shirt, but instead slamming into the ground between us. And that’s where it got stuck.
Wordlessly, I drove my sword through his neck. The colour left his once-brown eyes, the anger gradually draining from them. His face slackened as his body slumped over the frame of his sword.
The sound of two blades colliding hit my ears. I turned on the spot to find Jay locked in a ferocious battle with an attacker three whole inches taller than him.
I’d heard that demigods of Ares had a natural ability for fighting and got the hang of it quicker than most people. I had never seen that natural gift come into play until Jay fought this man.
His eyes were unblinking, and it seemed to me as though he wasn’t even thinking about what he was doing. The movements and the process of fighting came naturally to him.
‘Mr Brown! Mr Stewart!’ a voice came from my right. Looking up, I saw Tom running towards us.
Tom was one of the five people that had come to the house over two years ago. He had medium-length hazel hair and eyes of the same colour.
‘What are you two doing here?’ he yelled.
‘Saving the world, you?’ I joked back.
‘Likewise! What squad are you supposed to be in?’ his voice suggested both anger and worry.
‘We’re supposed to be looking for Clark and sticking with him!’ I shouted as to be heard over the sounds of Jay’s fight. Tom’s eyes lit up.
‘I’m in Clark’s squad! Come!’
Jay ended his fight swiftly by slitting the throat of his opponent.
‘Thanks for checking on me, guys,’ he said quietly. ‘Appreciated.’
‘You were doing fine, son of Ares,’ I taunted. ‘Now, come o-’
Tom, who had been standing in front of us, very quickly found a sword in his gut.
My eyes widened, as did Tom’s. His mouth moved as his body fell forward in an attempt to say something, but no sound left his mouth.
As his body hit the ground, the attacker, who had been standing behind him, lunged at me.
The two of us lashed out at each other for a while, neither of us getting through the other’s guard.
‘Jay! Check on Tom!’ I roared, before performing the usual. I perfected my breathing. ‘Light Breathing, Third Form: Beaming Slash.’
In an instant, my blade began to glow and I dragged it diagonally down across his body. He let out a cry of anguish, but it was already too late. Blood was pouring thickly from his torso, and I ended his pain early by delivering a slash across his neck.
I turned to Jay, who was kneeling next to Tom.
‘How is he?’ I asked quickly.
Before Jay could even respond, a crashing blow was delivered to the back of my head, causing me to spiral forward through the air for nearly ten feet.
Dazed, I slowly looked up to see who it was that had hit me. Upon finding out, my blood ran cold and I felt such an extreme level of rage take over my entire body that I felt inhuman for a moment.
Maltor’s cold smirk stuck out like a sore thumb as he gently eased himself to the ground with his angelic white wings.
‘How was that, huh?’ he chuckled. ‘That nearly hurt my foot.’
His black blades created an unnatural amount of fear in me. They were just swords.
Behind Maltor, I saw Jay shakily get to his feet and raise his sword. His little blue eyes showed nothing but fury as he stared determinedly at the back of Maltor’s head.
And, for a moment, it looked like he would be the one to do it. It looked as though it didn’t matter how badly Albert wanted to kill him. Jay was going to do it.
‘Fool,’ Maltor breathed.
He spun on the spot, striking Jay in the temple with the flat of his left blade. The strike had so much power behind it that Jay’s legs instantly crumbled beneath him, causing him to crash to the grass below unconscious.
Nothing but anger got me to my feet. I conjured all of my willpower to keep my breathing steady. It would be bad to lash out. I had to deal with this quickly and in a controlled fashion. Jay and Tom depended on it.
‘Ethan…it’s been a while, huh?’ Maltor taunted, grinning. ‘Let’s do a bit of catching up, yeah?’
I bent my body low, letting out a long breath. I wanted to do something that neither Albert nor I had ever done thus far.
When we had been training with William Johnson, he had told us that the Breathing Techniques and their Forms could be ‘modified’ depending on the situation. He had given us an example of one, but we hadn’t trained it. I wanted to use it.
‘Oh?’ Maltor said slowly. ‘Not in the mood to talk? Fine by me. Your blood will spill over this field.’
He readied his swords into a guard.
Albert had done it. Albert had absolutely battered Maltor the last time they had met. Now it was my turn. My time in the spotlight. My time to have fun.
‘Thunder Breathing, First Form,’ I said slowly, making sure my breathing was steady. ‘Thunderclap. Sixfold!’
Electricity ran up and down both my blade and my body. My head shot up, and I glared at Maltor through the storm of electricity for a mere second. Then, I did it.
Thunderclap was a basic manoeuvre. You pulled your sword out from its sheath, slashed it across the opponent’s body with extra power from electricity, and then re-sheathed your sword. All within about half a second, but it was basic.
The Sixfold modification meant doing Thunderclap six times in rapid succession.
I collided with Maltor. Once. I used the momentum to push the two of us into the air, performing the move once more. Twice. I charged at him mid-air, using the power of the electricity and the wind to guide me. Thrice. I used the momentum to push us higher. Four times. Then, I pushed the two of us down. Five times. Mustering all of my power, I shot forward into him again. Six times.
The power of the sixth occurrence of the move was so immense that it shot us both back a few feet. He instinctively shot out his wings to prevent him from falling. I used the wind to catch myself as I re-sheathed my sword.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see Jay and Tom’s bodies on the floor. At first glance, one may have presumed them dead. I hoped that factor alone dissuaded people from attacking them. Either way, I could not stray too far from them.
‘You’re fast, Ethan, I’ll give you that!’ Maltor roared. ‘But Albert was faster!’
I shot forward through the sky again, attempting to slash across his stomach, but he blocked my blade with one of his.
‘My mom always told me not to play with my food,’ I snarled, straightening. ‘I think I’ll have to go against her just this once.’
Maltor gave a roar of pure anger. He attempted to strike me in the head with his left blade and in the stomach with his right. But I was faster. Just barely.
‘Clockwork Fire!’ I roared.
My flaming blade was able to completely stop his left sword, but it didn’t get to his right fast enough. By the time I had pushed it away, he had gotten close enough to create a tiny cut on my side. It was only slightly larger than a paper cut, but it was annoying nonetheless.
‘First point to me,’ he scoffed, apparently ignoring Sixfold. ‘And I thought you were supposed to be good.’
I slashed my blade across his stomach, thankful that it got through this time. Blood oozed from his shirt and over my blade, and pain flashed across his face.
Not even pausing for a moment, I breathed, ‘Thunder Breathing, Seventh Form: Thunder Wheel.’
The flames on my blade had disappeared a moment before, and now lightning took their place. I swung my sword in a perfect arc in front of me, my arm extended fully. It dragged across Maltor’s stomach, causing a howl of pain to erupt from his mouth.
He kneed me in the chest, hard. All of the air within my body left through my nostrils as I flew backwards through the air. When I hit the ground a few seconds later, my vision was starry and my head was spinning. I could only vaguely make out Maltor hovering a few feet away.
‘You may have seen or heard about a special ability of mine…’ Maltor said with such a level of eeriness that a shiver ran down my spine. ‘The ability to control things with this dark energy…’
As he said this, I watched, horrified, as my vision cleared just enough to see what was happening. Countless dead bodies were lying around me, and each of them had, of course, been lying with a weapon. The key word in that sentence was ‘had’.
The swords, whose wielders were now dead, began to rise in the air, coated by that strange black energy that Maltor possessed. They glided through the air over to Maltor, where they then all floated around him, pointing directly at me on the ground.
‘You don’t heal like Albert and I do…’ Maltor continued coldly. Then he sniggered. ‘The fear in your eyes…not such a stoic hero now, are you?’
He was right. I didn’t feel like a stoic hero. I had been wrecking his shit a minute ago, but now I was in a horrific state. Blurred vision, nausea swirling throughout my body, crumpled on the ground, and feeling completely cornered.
‘The swords of a dozen soldiers…I will defeat you alongside the might of my fallen underlings…’ Maltor’s eyes suddenly widened, filled to the brim with anger. ‘Ethan Brown! This is where you meet your end!’
The swords shot through the air like bullets from a machine gun. They were coming straight for me. But then they…stopped. Midair. Halfway on their journey to me.
I scoffed. ‘You thought that would get me? Did you forget, Maltor? I have complete control over the air and the winds.’
I shakily got to my feet, glaring at him. He was putting up a good fight. I had created a thick wall of air between me and the swords, and that is what had caused them to halt. But I could feel him pushing them harder and harder against the wall.
‘Albert’s putting up a better fight, and he’s not even here with us,’ Maltor spat angrily, and the swords shot forward by an inch.
I glanced to my left, towards the east. He was right.
A huge swirling tower of water was rising out of the ocean, presumably Albert’s doing. Even from where I was, I could see it disrupting the ships and submarines. Then it exploded outward, dowsing everything nearby in seawater.
‘Come on then !’ I snarled. ‘Come get me! I’m right here!’
‘The swords will reach you in less than thirty seconds,’ he retorted, looking at me with pure disgust. The swords moved forward by another inch. He was winning.
‘Face me like a man, you little bitch,’ I spat, pouring as much rage into my glare as I could muster. ‘Get down here and face me! Come on, Maltor! I’m struggling to stand and you’re still too much of a bitch to get your ass down here and slice me to pieces! Come on! Entertain me in my final moments!’
As I spoke, I could see the anger in his eyes growing. The swords were inching closer, but I had to hold them where they were just for a few more moments.
‘I don’t get why everyone’s scared of you,’ I continued, still glowering at him. ‘You’re not shit. All that training we did just for you to be the weakest bastard on the field. Come at me, man! Give me something to do before my body is destroyed by those blades!’
He was evidently getting closer and closer to coming to dice me up himself, but he was resisting. I just had to say a few more things.
‘Or don’t, I guess. If you’d rather die by Albert’s hands then stay up there. It’s either me or him. One of us will kill you, you weak piece of shit. You remember how much he embarrassed you, right? Don’t want that again, do you?’
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Maltor let out a holler of sheer anger, soaring down towards me with tremendous speed. His swords were poised perfectly to cut my body in two, but it was exactly what I had wanted.
He soared around the swords, which were still inching closer. Maltor was flying with such terrifying speed that I worried for a moment that my plan wouldn’t work. I smirked at that moment. Of course it would work.
When he was about a foot away from me, I leapt backwards and eliminated the wall of air that was keeping the swords in place.
As I did so, Maltor swung his swords wildly at me. They both narrowly missed my legs. He was so blinded by rage that he not only missed what could have been fatal blows, but he had not realised that, because I had removed the wall of air, the floating swords were now all heading straight towards him.
They all pierced his body, except for one. I had not jumped far enough. One of the floating swords stabbed me in the left shoulder, causing waves of pain to wash through my body as blood began to pour from the site of the stab.
But, it was safe to say that Maltor had it worse. Because the swords had been aimed low, everything from his heart and up was safe. Everything else was not.
Swords pierced his side, thigh, calf, and even his right foot. He let out a bellow of both rage and agony. Thick crimson blood began to pour out from all of his injuries, falling to the grass practically in waves.
‘Stupid bastard,’ I snarled as I landed on the floor, ignoring the pain in my shoulder. ‘How could you actually let that plan work? You’re making a fool of yourself.’
The black energy appeared over the blades sticking out of Maltor. Slowly but surely, they were pulled out. Steam poured thickly from the now open wounds. I couldn’t let him heal.
‘Heh,’ he spat out blood. ‘You got me there, but you wo-’
I used another gift of mine. My power over the earth.
A brown spike of hardened dirt shot out from the ground, piercing Maltor in the stomach and driving him upward into the sky.
‘Oh, shut the fuck up,’ I groaned, leaping into the air and gliding over to him. ‘Nobody wants to hear your pathetic little voice. Just die quietly, shithead.’
I pulled the sword out of my shoulder, holding it in my left hand.
He coughed blood onto the spike of earth.
‘Remove the spike of earth.’
Maltor’s voice washed over me. It sounded silky. It made my mind shut down. I didn’t think. The earthen mould shrunk back into the ground.
‘Thank you. Now, die.’
He dug his sword into my left shoulder. Immense pain shot through my entire body, and I began to see stars.
I gritted my teeth. Albert had lost limbs before. He’d lost his arms, legs, eyes, and ears more than any person could count. I could take a stab in the shoulder.
‘Poison Breathing, First Form: Parasite!’ I yelled, my voice filled with anger.
With my right blade, I created a few small cuts on Maltor’s midsection, all joining at one point in the middle. Then, I ploughed my sword into that point.
The two of us, floating completely still in the air, roared at each other as we drove our blades deeper into the other.
‘Ethan Brown!’ he bellowed, with such a high level of rage that I do not think there is a word to describe it. ‘Give up now and forever be a martyr!’
Gritting my teeth, I pushed my blade further into his body. ‘Maltor! We can end this here and now!’
My blade ignited. As Maltor roared in pain, I perfected my breathing.
‘Fire Breathing, Seventh Form!’ my voice was shrill with fury. ‘Rising Sunshine!’
Conjuring as much force as I could, I pulled the blade up from the inside of Maltor’s body. With each inch that it moved, his roar got louder.
My blade shot out from the top of his left shoulder. It was a horrifying sight. There was a huge crevice carving through Maltor’s body from his shoulder to around his navel.
He yanked his blade out from my shoulder. ‘Damn you…Ethan Brown…’
‘Come on, Maltor, make your final moments count,’ I growled. ‘You have about thirty seconds.’
He smirked. ‘Oh? You want me to ‘make it count’, huh? I’ll make it count, alright.’
Maltor’s right sword swung up towards me, but I quickly blocked it with my left. Doing so caused pain to shoot through my left arm due to the wound in my shoulder, but I couldn’t let that stop me.
I swung my right sword around, delivering a strike to the side of Maltor’s head with the flat of the blade. He returned the favour.
The world began to spin as I flew back by about three feet.
‘No…no…’ I breathed. ‘Hang on…Don’t…go unconscious…Not yet…’
The taste of blood hit my mouth, and I panicked immediately. I had to end the fight quickly. I had to use my ace.
I desperately manipulated the wind to stabilise myself. When I had finally halted in the air, I saw Maltor shooting towards me with tremendous speed.
‘Berserk Breathing, Destructive Art: Flurry of Pain!’
As Maltor got close, I let loose an insanely fast barrage of jabs and blows with my sword, but it didn’t have the desired effect.
It was a Destructive Art. There should have been no way that he lived.
Most of the blows were dodged or deflected by Maltor. He angled and contorted his body perfectly to narrowly weave out of the way of some blows, whilst using his blades to protect himself from others. Only a few got through. But they must have hurt.
‘Heh,’ he scoffed. ‘Six months of training for this? And you call me the weak one?’
His right foot shot out towards me, and he hit me with a bombardment of harsh kicks. Some hit my head, others hit my stomach, and the rest hit something less vital. No matter where they hit, they hurt like hell.
To top it off, he finished the combination with a final, immensely powerful, roundhouse kick to my left side. I hit the ground below like a sack of bricks.
Maltor dived towards me, his sword pointing at my chest.
I blocked hastily with the sword in my right hand. The two of us were locked in a stalemate. It was humiliating.
‘So, let’s summarise, shall we?’ Maltor taunted sickly. ‘You almost split my body in two…but I won. How does that make sense, Ethan Brown? How have I won?’
‘You haven’t,’ I snarled, trying not to cough blood. ‘If you want to beat me then you’ll have to kill me.’
‘Oh, I will, don’t you worry.’
‘Try me.’
Lightning crashed down from the sky, hitting the two of us. Having caused it, I was unaffected. Maltor, however, was shot away by a few feet, giving me a mere moment to try and collect myself.
Every muscle in my body ached. I had to stop soon.
I frantically looked around, searching for Jay and Tom. Their bodies were a few feet away from my own. At least nobody had finished them off.
Every time I blinked, I had to fight to keep myself conscious. Something about the distant sounds of shells from the French battleships was strangely soothing. I could have fallen asleep to it at that moment.
‘I’ve gotta…kill him…’ I panted, using my swords to get back on my feet. ‘I’ll…kill him…’
I limped in the direction his body had flown.
‘Don’t…fall over…Kill…him…’
He, too, was shakily getting to his feet. His body was enveloped in steam. Both of us seemed on the verge of collapse.
‘Maltor…Confussée…’ I growled from behind him. He instantly straightened. ‘I…I won this fight…Just keel…keel over and die…you filthy…piece of shit…’
I kicked him in the back of the leg. It was only a gentle kick, but it did what I wanted.
He fell to the floor slowly, and I could feel the shock radiating from his body. I couldn’t blame him. I should have at least been unconscious.
As he fell, a bolt of lightning crashed down from the sky, connecting with his body. It used up all of my energy. I may have ‘beaten’ him, but it came at the cost of not being able to remain conscious.
‘Stupid bastard,’ I spat as the world around me faded to nothing.