This situation had gotten from bad to worse. The Conquistador was doing his job properly, making sure that the enemy commander didn’t get any ideas and wander around to figure out what his troops were doing. However, all of that was forcing him to continue fighting this bastard without any end in sight, which he was starting to feel the exhaustion catch up to him.

Not to mention the fact that he was starting to take on numerous wounds that were weighing him down far more than before. The enemy commander’s strikes weren’t blocked by any of his armor pieces, which meant that each of those hits would immediately hit his flesh. The bastard was able to adapt to every circumstance that he threw at them, meaning that the chase had devolved to that of a cat and mouse game.

A game that he was losing. Each attempt resulted in more injuries, more wounds, more lost energy for no benefit at all. No, he was stuck in a game of playing for time, where the only chance of success was to hope that the hole was dug.

He couldn’t help but grimace as he flew back up in the air once more, barely avoiding another upward slice from the enemy commander. However, he wasn’t nearly fast enough, as the flat of his boot was sliced wide open. While none of his flesh was damaged, this certainly wasn’t the situation that he wanted to be found in.

His lack of speed could be attributed to the lowering levels of his divine blessing, something that he could not continue. While he would love to try to abuse every other ability he had under his control, he needed to reserve every last drop of power he had remaining. He still needed some stamina to fly on over to the hole and lead the bastard in.

That being said, he didn’t know how much time had been spent on avoiding this bastard. Had he distracted the enemy commander long enough for his soldiers to finish creating the hole? There was no way he could continue this any longer, he needed to head back now.

Without any bit of hesitation, he turned around to try to escape. However, that was a blunder on his part that cost him quite dearly: for the enemy commander had anticipated for him to try to run away. Without any bit of hesitation, they proceeded to launch numerous metal spikes from the ground, all of which looked as though they were some stairs made for torture. They proceeded to dash up those iron spikes without stopping, before reaching forward and grabbing onto his leg.

With the added weight, his flight path got warped and dangerous. The Conquistador yelped with shock as he began to be pulled back to the ground, before focusing more of his divine energy to boost his flight. The two of them proceeded to fly up a bit more, but this was not as if he was a graceful bird: no, this was chaotic, messy. They were going through the air in circles, smashing into some of the walls before righting once more.

“Get off me, you bastard!” He roared as he proceeded to fly towards another building, slamming the enemy commander against the solid stone wall in hopes of disorientating his passenger and getting them to fall off. However, that did not achieve his desired effect. Rather, the bastard only gripped harder.

Sounds of cracking began to form from his leg. He couldn’t stop the scream of sheer pain that burst out of his mouth, before focusing every single last one of his power to flying as fast as possible towards his soldiers.

With that, they rushed forward. The wind began to part way for their movement. He desperately did everything to avoid any buildings, trying his best to maintain a fine balance between staying up in the air and maneuvering around the city. All of this, while avoiding the growing pain in his leg.

Unfortunately, there simply was far too much to keep track of. There was no way a man like him, despite his intelligence, could do all that while being burdened with the fog of pain. The two of them slammed right into a nearby building, bursting through the wall and falling onto the ground. Thankfully, the sheer impact caused the enemy commander to loosen his grip and fly a bit away from the Conquistador, allowing them to be separated once more.

Though, that was the worst of his concerns. For his mind had become nothing more than a whirling mess, constantly going through fogs of nothingness while collecting his train of thought.

He barely got to his feet when the enemy commander recovered. They stood up and, without any fanfare, slammed the end of their foot right into his side. He gasped as he was sent flying out of the room and back out into the streets once more. Thankfully, that meant he had been granted even more distance from the enemy commander, which meant he could get back to flying away once more.

There was no way he wasn’t going to take advantage of this opportunity. Here and now, this was the world telling him that he had a chance to get away and live to see another day. That single realization made him pour every last bit of remaining divine energy into his body, moving to fly away, right towards his soldiers once more.

He managed to get away for some feet before the building exploded into a thousand pieces. The enemy commander jumped out of the cacophony, moving towards him by using the building roofs as supports for each of their leaps.

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Each time they jumped, the buildings were destroyed. The bastard was clearly not happy with him, seeing as how they were obviously putting all of their power to ensure that he died here and now. They needed to put in a good bit of effort and time to do each of these jumps, but that did not matter anymore to the Conquistador.

He had made good distance. There was enough space between him and the bastard that he was able to continue onwards with confidence. Though, that didn’t change the fact that he could feel cold sweat pour off his body as he continued to maneuver around the city. Right now, he was getting close to death, something that was far more terrifying than anything else in the world.

The reason was simple: all because he had nothing to show for everything he had done thus far. There would be no glorious landmark, no tales of glory, nothing. He would die and all of his work would go down the drain because this vindictive asshole would ensure that his legacy would be destroyed in a heartbeat. He couldn’t allow that, absolutely not.

Though, all of his panic began to calm down as he began to notice the one thing that he had been searching for: his soldiers. He squinted to get a good reference of their current status and to his relief, they had done the job well.

A giant hole existed in the middle of the street, one that completely smooth the whole way down. The depths were so deep that he couldn’t see the ground at all, which was exactly what he wanted. His soldiers were all standing around this hole, with the blessed one flying above it, continuously blasting magical projectiles down the pit over and over again.

Perfect. They were able to achieve what he had requested from them: a hole to entrap this bastard. Now all he had to do was get the enemy commander stuck in there, and then he could drown them with liquid stone. With that, his job would be done, and he could rest up for once.

With that thought in his head, he flew directly over the hole, settling right next to his blessed one. Once that was done, he allowed himself to take a few deep breaths to get all of his pain and anxiety out of his system. At least, that was the plan.

What he did not expect was for the enemy commander to fly through the air, with their flamberge primed and ready to strike. Their trajectory was clear: aiming towards him with a deadly stab to take him out once and for all. Unfortunately for the Conquistador, their flight path guaranteed that they would be able to avoid falling down the pit. If anything, they would land right on the ground and be given free rein to take all of them down.

Well, at times like this, sacrifices needed to be made. And there was one that was perfect for the job. With that in mind, he began to fly back to the ground while giving a single mental order to his only blessed soldier: get the bastard down into the pit.

The blessed soldier complied. They rushed forward, tackling the enemy commander and flying towards the pit. The bastard did not anticipate such a reaction as they were caught off guard, their flamberge flying out of their grip and towards the ground. Their eyes widened as they realized what was going on, before remedying their situation to avoid their dangerous situation.

With that, they reached out with their hands and grabbed the wings of the blessed soldier. They ripped out the wings, which caused large amounts of blood to pour out of the newly made holes. The Conquistador’s soldier cried out in pain, but before they could think of doing anything, he sent out another mental message to them once more.

Make sure the bastard falls into the pit.

That order ingrained itself into their body, mind, and soul. That message, empowered through the link they had with their master, forced them to focus everything they had to achieve this goal. Their eyes squinted, and they proceeded to focus on ignoring all the pain they felt, doing so by focusing all of their energy into speeding up their flight.

That action shocked the enemy commander. It was obvious that they anticipated for the blessed soldier to start trying to fly away from instinct and fear, but that simply was never going to happen. Not while he had that mental link with the soldier and full power of their thoughts and action.

All of that resulted with the two going down into the pit with the aid of gravity and high speed flight. They kept on going before disappearing into the darkness, vanishing from sight. However, that didn’t last for long.

After a short while, there was a blur. The Conquistador backed up in fear, before opening his mouth to order all of his troops to come to his defense. Then, that mysterious object came down to a ground, before kneeling once more.

It was his blessed soldier, though they certainly had taken a few good hits. Their face was covered with bruises and all of their horns had been ripped apart. Their wings were missing and one of their legs were gone, but none of that mattered. They were still alive. This was good, this was perfect.

It was time to drown the bastard before it was too late.

Quick as a flash, he sent the last mental order to them. In that instant, his blessed soldier began to summon the black cloud right above the entrance to the pit.

The conditions were all set. They could do this now. The Conquistador couldn’t help but grin. His teeth were bloody, and he was certain there was a feral look on his face. However, that did not matter. No, what was important was taking care of this threat once and for all.

“Men! Every single last one of you, get stones and throw it at the black cloud!”

With that, every single last one of his soldiers began to pick up rocks of varying size and launched them towards the fog in question. Upon impact, each of those rocks melted and started to fall down the hole. This continued for some time, with him even joining in on the festivities.

They didn’t stop, not until the hole had been completely covered.