"This entire deployment has been a headache," mused Rex. "First, we were attacked by the Verrack, then an Augur of all things. Finally, the Voyager arrived. The last recorded Voyager was a few hundred thousand years ago. None of it makes sense, starting with my sudden promotion from the investigative and covert arm of the military to a fucking general after I rooted out the cult in Immorilla. Someone or something is pulling the strings back in the capital, and it's definitely not in the empire's benefit. I need to speak with the Prince urgently when I'm back, preferably away from that nest of snakes that he calls home. Being stuck in the middle of a shadow war of royal succession is not what I signed up for."
Rex closed his tired eyes and leaned back in his chair. If his teacher hadn't shown up, he and the rest of the army would be dead at the hands of the Augur. There really are levels to this game. If Yuri could deal with the Augur so easily after it had basically smacked him silly with one punch, Rex wondered what kind of monster his teacher really was. Augurs were no joke. Masters of a singular aspect of pestilence, like this one, an Augur of Rot, as the name suggests, it brings rot with a capital R wherever it goes. Entire cities could have been wiped out in days. And Yuri had basically done the equivalent of stomping it into the ground while looking bored. Rex shuddered as he thought of the other monsters he had met on his teacher's old team. He'd rather face the Augur again.
Just as he was thinking this, a shockwave went through the tent. Rex stopped. He sensed a massive Aum signature. Sighing, he chided himself for letting himself slip into placidity. With a set brow and bared canines, the Xeral materialized his glowing warhammer as he flashed out of the tent in a blaze of red hot fury.
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Since the arrival of Yuri and the disappearance of the Augur, the Verrack army had retreated. The 100,000 strong army, battered and worn down, proceeded to camp with caution for the night. Officers and commanders camped in the center and were surrounded by concentric rectangles of troop tents with regular patrols and campfires at geometric designations. The grass native to the region had been cleared out for the entire camp. Trenches were dug and walls were raised within an afternoon. For anyone not familiar with elemental Aum, it would have shocked them to see stone grown and shaped in front of their eyes. But the well-trained Corps of the Empire had turned a grassy hill into a fort before sunset. Manned ramparts, Aum and physical barriers, farseeing arrays trained both to the horizon and the ground beneath them, as well as light-bending camouflage incantations made the hastily raised fort both stealthy and well protected.
But there was currently a man, horned and dressed in black, standing in the air a few feet from the ground in the middle of the center where the command center was. A twenty-foot crater glowing an angry red, and vestiges of death and destruction many feet further than that. All that careful preparation and work ruined by one creature of immense power.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Yuri was the first to arrive on the scene. By the time she registered the meteoric Aum signature, it was too late. Hundreds of officers, who worked through the night to ensure the smooth running of the encampment, were dead or dying. Yuri turned her furious red orb onto the genocidal maniac floating lackadaisically toward her, with not a care in the world. Calling it a man is well a bit of a simplification. Whatever it was, it had the shape of a man. It was as though its flesh was made of wisps of shadow, nether given human form. A pair of obsidian horns, cracked and ram-like, grew out of the back of this Abyss-spawn's head. Black and corrupt life force roiled out of the creature like a tsunami of malice, sapping the life force of the dying troops it had broken. Here was a bonafide practitioner of death. The Reaper isn't grim; he's just apathetic.
"Hand him over," it spoke in a low, gravelly tone. Dirty red gashes for eyes trained on Yuri.
"Leave, Malkaleth. I am not in a good mood right now," spat Yuri, uncharacteristically vehement.
"Your hands are tied, Andross. I know your daughter is here. The skies won't burn tonight," replied Malkaleth, grinning to reveal a very corporeal set of red-needle teeth.
A Rex-shaped meteor landed beside Yuri, eyeing the shadowy apparition. He asked with urgency, "First the Desolation and now the Void ones? Is that twerp really worth so much trouble?"
"This is a distraction, Rex. Secure the Voyager. I'll take care of Malkaleth," replied Yuri.
Rex paused. "Malkaleth the Black Butcher?!"
"The one and only," replied Malkaleth.
Plasma encased Yuri as she whispered, "Go, keep them both safe." Lightning shot toward the shadow.
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As Rex raced towards the tent where the Voyager was being held, he couldn't believe the destruction he saw around him. The remains of the guards who had been protecting the Voyager were scattered near the entrance of the tent. Determined to find the missing person, Rex burst into the tent and searched frantically, but the Voyager was nowhere to be found. Frustrated and angry, Rex flew out of the tent and surveyed the chaos that had overtaken the camp. Shadow creatures were attacking and killing members of the army left and right. With determination, Rex kept watch, determined to locate the Voyager.
Finally, he spotted the person covered in blood and holding an unconscious Zeva, limping away from two cloaked figures who were closing in with knives. Without hesitation, Rex flew towards them, engulfed in flames, ready to save Zeva and the Voyager and seek revenge on those who had harmed his troops. But as he descended, he sensed something wrong and swerved to the left. Losing control, he crashed to the ground and smashed through several tents before coming to a stop. Struggling to stand, Rex's knees gave out and he collapsed, a spear of shadow stuck in his stomach. Blood flowed from his mouth as his vision started to fade.