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Vander grinned as the torrent of attacks broke the monster. But the grin faded a moment later when a layer of black smoke covered the snake in a protective aura and absorbed the damage, blocked his next two attacks, and rapidly regenerated its injuries. Parts of it withered away, expended to heal the giant snake and shrink its size by a large portion.

The monster was left completely unharmed by the time the black smoke faded. Coiling up into a defensive position, its scales fortifying its position, the snake began to channel a large quantity of Miasma. Black veins creeped across the outside of its scales, stealing the shining luster and dulling them. Any sign of life within its body warped as more and more of its body shed, accumulating into a dense aura of anti-magic that settled over its shrinking skeleton like a cape.

By the time the transformation ended, the giant snake was the size of one of the orc’s hound mounts, but Vander knew the playing field had just reversed. Its entire mass was formed of dense Miasma. To end the fight, he wouldn’t have a choice but to confront the anti-magic. There would be no more war of attrition. The snake had abandoned its life and embraced Undeath entirely.

With its faux scales protecting a violet core embedded in the center of its forehead from his attacks, those unfamiliar and intelligent eyes stared at him.

That’s not the look of a beast. Something has control over it. Vander clenched his teeth and gripped his sword as tight as he could, his body on edge and prepared to spring at a moment’s notice. No matter how long he stood there, he couldn’t find a gap in its armor. The gem on its head remained defended no matter how he tried to position.

So with great trepidation, he did all he could do and prepared another attack. He wouldn't stop, not now, not ever. If something stood in his way, he’d crush it into pulp, even if he had to try a thousand times.

Without the Miasma, the snake was nothing more than a lifeless skeleton, so he focused on blasting away all the anti-magic he could. Though, he had a feeling whatever gave life to the monster in front of him didn’t want him to do such a thing and had made sure to pour an extra helping of no-no juice into the monster’s bloodstream.

Remembering what he told Tobias, he wouldn't let the failure of his last attack, nor the hundreds before, stop him from killing the snake, finding its master, and crushing them, too. "Let’s do this then, you fucker!"

The blade’s tip vibrated as his mana accumulated. He needed power, and aside from dance of blades, skypiercer was the most powerful thing he could use. Energy continued to coalesce until the very air shrieked its protest, then, when the magic began to become unstable, he channeled mana into his feet and activated both heartseeker and piercing lunge.

In a streak of primordial violence, Vander cut through the air like a bolt of lightning and struck with equal destructive force. The monster wasn't able to absorb the attack as it had before. A veritable storm cloud of Miasma blasted away from it, but the battle wasn't over. He’d missed the gem on its head.

Then the giant snake's fangs glowed, counterattacked, and sank into his shoulder. It… baited me in?

Something about the attack was off. Vander thought the Miasma would flood through him and corrode him like the land, but aside from the pain of the piercing fangs in his shoulder, no such immediate death found him. No such luck for the one behind the snake. Rather, the Miasma funneled into him without pause, at least attempting to turn him into dust and show him to the arms of Death.

But no. His own mana kicked back, bucking wildly in a raging storm. The snake shrank as the Miasma forming its body continued flooding into him, rejected and repulsed by his magic body. No matter how much it tried, the Miasma couldn’t overcome. Rather than remove the fangs and force the snake off him, he held it still as much as he could manage, dropping his sword, and breaking a closed handed fist down with his free arm.

Even though the punches wracked his body with intense pain, the shakes from the snake and his own body tearing up his right shoulder, he didn’t stop punching. The magic flowing from his fist into the gem worked wonders, and the container of the snake’s life force chipped, cracked, and inevitably exploded.

A howl of fury erupted through the air, black power forming into a cloud above Vander. Almost as if it contemplated striking him down then and there, the cloud hovered. From within, hazy red eyes stared back at him. He flipped it the bird and seethed as his shoulder ached in pain.

The sudden freedom made his body realize what he’d just done. He fought against the pain and natural urge to go into shock, gasping in labored breath. No matter how bad the pain got, he couldn’t allow himself to fall there. Not yet. Rest would come later. For now, he had more work to do.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

He kneeled and recovered the dropped sword, seething. Deep breath. Release. Another one. Release. Not. Working!

To calm himself, he hunted. His body wouldn’t still, not after the brush with death. The orcs, one by one, fell to his sword. Even if lumbered around in pain, they were no match for him. Even if he couldn’t entirely see through the blurry eyes, glazed over from the euphoria of cutting down one enemy after another and triumphing over a hard fought foe, he reaped orc after orc like harvesting grain to store for winter.

Mercilessly.

Until there were no orcs left.

But even then, his body demanded bloodshed, needed it. Craved it with all his being. The tinge of red didn’t fade until loss of blood caught up to him and brought him to his hands and knees, then flat on his stomach and face.

***

"Vander? Vander! Don’t be dead, you damned fool!" Tobias shouted in Vander’s ear, shaking him like a man gone mad. "Vander, you need to get up! The orcs took some of the villagers. The men tried to stop them, but… but they couldn't. You have to save them!"

Vander’s eyes snapped open, and he looked up at the old village chief’s face. His tear-stained cheeks further warped the peaceful, unshakable image Vander once had. The words Tobias continued to shout in Vander’s now-awake and far too sensitive ears made Vander wince.

“Vander… Please, you have to save them. I know you’ve already done a lot, but there’s nobody else that can do it. None of them deserve a fate like what’s in store for them,” Tobias begged as the rest of the villagers started to form a semicircle around the two of them.

Vander held up a hand to stop the man’s endless rambling. “Wait a second. Hold on—stop! Tobias, stop!” The man finally realized Vander had responded and snapped his jaw closed with enough force that even Vander’s jaw ached. “Give me a second, please. Just wait.”

Tobias nodded, and Vander looked at his shoulder. The wound hadn’t entirely healed, but it wasn’t a gushing fountain like before. The skin looked dead, but he could feel the life filling in and fighting against the traces of Miasma still remaining. Not as ineffective as I thought, then. Damn. Thought I’d found a way—no, that’s stupid. If it only took a magic body to fight against demons and necromancers, there’s no way mages would ever struggle to deal with them.

Sighing, he eyed Tobias. “Help me.”

“Oh, right!” Despite his previous frantic display, the man’s hands didn’t shake at all as he attended to addressing the wound. He took the rest of the sleeve and used Vander’s sword to cut away the parts with Miasma tainting them, ripped them into one long strip, and then faceted them around Vander’s arm as tight as possible, earning a seething grunt and pained scowl from his patient. When he finished, he nodded at his work and then turned to Vander. “Now, sonny, I know you’re hurt, but people need you right now. You’ll help them, right? You’re good people, just like them, and wouldn’t let them stay out there with those monsters, right?”

“Again, you’re rambling.” Vander sighed, stiffly raising his hurt arm to test the range of motion. Not comfortable, but he’d be fine. Imitating Adrian, an edge of authority in his voice that the others weren’t used to, he asked, “How many were taken?”

Before Vander could form any kind of plan, he needed to know more details, like how many villagers he needed to account for. If what he saw in addition to the rows upon rows of dead was all that remained in the town, he had his work cut out for him.

For as many as the orcs killed, they’d taken an equal amount with them as they retreated. A strange and maleficent presence, one he likely guessed to be necrotic in origin, had guided the actions of the giant snake. Vander shuddered. Orcs were not known for treating prisoners. Every second he wasted was another that something unspeakable might be happening to one of the villagers.

Fuckers.

“I’m… not so sure,” Tobias admitted, looking around. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the corpses arrayed in front of his house.

Vander knew Madeline was among them and sympathized with the man, but this was a time for action—and to act, Vander needed information. “Focus. What do you know about what happened? You don’t seem surprised by the raid and even seem familiar with what might happen to the villagers that were taken.”

“W-with all the damage, we don’t have a good head count of who’s missing.” Tomas looked away, his lips tugging down as the tinges of sorrow and shame reddened his cheeks and neck. Several of the villagers nodded back in agreement, but Tobias barely seemed to notice them. “And to answer your question, I know what waits for you. Long ago, before many of the villagers arrived in Crossroads, we used to be plagued by monsters. A hooded mage came one day and told us to hang up talismans to stave off the attacking hordes, and we did. But in acquiring them, we had to promise to make an offering once a month.”

“You haven’t done that the whole time I’ve been here,” Vander noted, shaking his head in disappointment. The villagers were weak, normal people without power or methods of defending themselves, and would’ve likely been overrun given enough time were it not for the talismans. Though, he wasn’t foolish enough to think the two events weren’t mutually tied. “Never make a deal with a Demon in disguise. Ever heard that they’ll reap what they sow tenfold if you break a contract?”

“Yes, of course I know!” The madness in the old man’s eyes pained Vander, but he wouldn’t—couldn’t sympathize with those whose main prerogative for survival was to hide behind a shady figure with unknown intentions. He found the man’s excuse a little more than pathetic. “But…will you go, Vander? Will you save my people? I’ve seen what you can do with a sword.” He gestured towards the crowd. “We all did.”

Narrowing his eyes, Vander didn’t miss the looks in their eyes.