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Herald of death
Chapter 110: Regicide

Chapter 110: Regicide

A rapid-fire drum solo fills the air and transitions into a guitar riff – a fast and shredding melody. Two Bards, including Rowan, stand atop the highest dune. Their guitars scream with a metal edge, aggressively electrifying the atmosphere. Ethan's pain vanishes, strangled by this musical painkiller.

Aranthor sighs and lunges forward, swinging his blade in a wide arc. He is faster than in their earlier clash, but his wounds and out-of-control aura hinder him.

Ethan deflects Aranthor's blow. Their blades move upward, drawn by each other. In a move faster than Ethan can react even with Prescience, Aranthor kicks Ethan in the chest. The blow pierces through him, sending ripples of pain through his ribs as it hurls Ethan into the air.

Anders comes at Aranthor, thrusting his glaive at the king's chest. Aranthor contorts, moving his torso to the side to avoid the blow. Anders overextends as if he struck true, his perception too slow to follow Aranthor. The king extends his dodge into a slash, his blade aimed at cutting through Anders chest.

A loud gunshot echoes through the air - the aftereffect of an Archer in scaled blue losing an arrow at Aranthor. The king smirks and reverses his grip on his blade. Anders still oblivious, Aranthor grabs the man by the armor and heaves him into the arrow's path. It pierces through Anders back, striking a lung.

Anders exhales in pain and punches down on Aranthor's wrist, breaking his hold. Vines bursts from behind Anders, grabbing him by the chest and taking him away from the king.

Grasping it between his fingers and the handle of his sword, Aranthor summons a vial of red liquid. He bites down on the cork and tears it off the vial.

Spinning in the air, Ethan summons his Glock and shoots at the potion, striking true and spreading it in the sand. Aranthor growls and motions his blade upward. A wave of shadows rises from the ground, threatening to swallow Ethan.

Ethan's own shadow takes him just in time, yanking him from the path of the wave as he was preparing to leap over it. He's taken to a mirrored, spectral version of reality, drenched in muted grays. Shadows churn like swirls of black smoke. Moments and space stretch and compress, causing bursts of clarity and dizzying distortions.

Ethan lands, his feet touching the shifting ground, as if he weighs nothing at all. Russ heels at his side, his form darker than before, clouded in black smoke. Ethan surveys the distorted battlefield. The echoes of the Bards' music linger, resonating within the shadows.

Moving through this realm is like moving in a dream, each step taking tremendous will. Ethan pushes on, rushing through the wave towards Aranthor. The real world's sounds filter through – muffled, a dream-like echo.

Aranthor avoids arrows, sidestepping and twisting out of their ways. He swings at the air, propelling dark blades at the Archer, forcing him to dive out their way. Why isn't he using his teleportation ability? Could it be a consequence of his lost grasp on his own Ether?

Through the shadow realm, Ethan reaches the back of the wave, where, in its absence, he is thrown out. Lunging forward, Ethan reaches the king in his exit of Russ' realm. Aranthor extends his arm and summons his fire array, engulfing Ethan in it. With a snap of his fingers, Ethan silences the Ether, surprising Aranthor, who cannot block in time. Ethan's blade bites into Aranthor's abled shoulder, his flesh hard as steel.

Ethan's spell negating The Bards' power, all the pains return, flooding his senses. He moves back, holding his heart as each beat overtakes him with agony. He ends his spell, and the sounds kill the pain.

Aranthor drops his blade into the ground. It melts, turning to a lake of shadows reaching Ethan. Black tendrils shoot from it, forcing Ethan to backtrack and escape them.

The wave takes the life of three cowering bystanders. Turning them into winged beasts of slick, black skin and carapace armor. The darkness hums, and the monsters fly off towards Rowan and his partner.

Anders exchanges a glance with Derek. The later breaks into a run towards the Bards. 'Guard,' Ethan commands, pointing at Derek. Russ leaps out of Ethan's shadow, swollen to a size higher than his master. He gained muscles, his form now hulking and shredded. Russ bolts to join Derek, his speed raising a sandstorm in his wake.

Reaching high into the sky, the tendrils arch back to strike Ethan outside of the source's reach. He weaves through them, stepping ever farther from the lake. On the other side, Aranthor aims his palm towards Ethan, Ether rushing to it.

Remembering the spherical array used against Lucien, Ethan rushes into the tendrils. They whip at him. Using Prescience, he weaves through their attacks, ducking, leaping, and sidestepping them.

Aranthor's hand closes, summoning his sphere of sigils around Ethan. The latter summons his life force, bursting forward with a thunderclap. The spell ignites behind him, repelling the shadowed lake and melting the sand.

Feed by life force, Ethan closes the distance and slashes at Aranthor. The king summons his gravity spell and stops Ethan, the force too powerful for him to even lift his arm.

Ivy summons a spear-like ice spike and lashes it forward, coating it in spiraling winds. Aranthor glances at it and extends his arm to grab Ethan, aiming to use him as a shield.

"Stop!" Ethan commands, using his remaining life-force-infused Ether to speak Aetherian. It binds Aranthor in place, Ethan's Ether acting like chains around the king.

"Move!" Aranthor commands too late. Aimed for the king's head, the spear arches to the ground, taken by gravity, and empales his left leg.

They both jump back, exiting the gravity spell. Aranthor's command forced Ethan's body to use such strength that his legs burst with pain. He feels unsteady, his legs twitching in burning spasms.

Derek and Russ overtake the flying beasts, reaching the Bards a moment before them. The first of the three lunges for Rowan. Russ snatches it by the leg, dragging it to the ground before pawing it, his claws cutting through its skull.

Derek parries another, using his blade to shield himself from its claws. Russ grabs Derek's opponent by the wings, shaking it in his maw. It spreads the monsterized man into flying chunks of flesh and bones.

Aranthor's blade comes back to him, reforming from rising black tendrils. He slashes at the ice spike, breaking it into shards. His leg wound drools with blood.

The last of the beasts fly above Derek and Russ, lunging for Rowan's duo. Rowan strikes the wrong chord, unleashing a sound that pierces the monster's eardrums. It grabs its head and falls past its target. Russ rushes at the monster and snatches its head right off.

Ethan and Aranthor come as each other, clashing steel in a tempest of blows. Their blades tremble, the impacts making Phantom Reaver and Aranthor's dark blade vibrate. Despite Aranthor relying only on his left arm, his restored strength surpasses Ethan's.

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River manifests behind Aranthor and stabs her dagger into his liver. He twists his entire body and kicks her in the stomach, sending her flying in a gust of sand. She takes her dagger with her, and blood flows out of his wound.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Ethan lunges at Aranthor with a wide, brutal blow. Aranthor swings before even looking, coming at Ethan's blade from the side.

Phantom Reaver flies off Ethan's grasp, taken by a maneuver of Aranthor's blade. Ethan continues the striking motion and summons Aranthor's electric long sword. The blade cuts Aranthor's chest, skidding on his ribs but opening his stomach.

Aranthor's black blade comes back at Ethan from above. Ethan moves in to come behind Aranthor's reach, aiming a thrust at his heart. The king contorts out of the path of Ethan's attack. He twists his black blade upward and hits Ethan on the head with its pommel.

Ethan's vision spirals as the impact sends him reeling. He parries another blow and disengages from Aranthor. Shadows warp and elongate, and the high-pitched hum of metal blurs. Every sound carries weight, echoing as if underwater. The edges of Ethan's sight distort, Prescience's ghosts turning to raw patches of color.

The Bards' relentless riffs reverberate through Ethan like electric current, killing the pain. Ethan centers himself, forcing clarity through the haze and refocusing on his target. Aranthor holds his stomach, his guts apparent through the wound.

Aranthor dodges another ice spear. As the king's gaze moves to the distant Ivy, Ethan rushes him. His legs protest every step, his damaged muscles twitching with burning pain. The rhythm of the Bard's guitars spikes along their voices.

Aranthor roars, his voice twisted with pain and fury. His aura flares, tendrils of Ether writhing and lashing out. Unable to use Prescience on the threads, as Ethan doesn't see but rather senses them, he can only dodge so many. Ethan lashes out with the electric long sword, sparks trailing in its wake. The blades' impact propels a crackling blade of lightning that shocks the king.

Ethan twists with the momentum, following up with another blow. He feints right and lunges left, his blade arcing for Aranthor's disabled side. Aranthor returns to his full senses and shifts, his body twisting away. The last second dodge leaves Aranthor open for a split second. Ethan seizes the opportunity. He drops low, avoiding a blow, and drives his shoulder into Aranthor's midsection. The blow knocks the king off balance, overwhelming him with pain as it squeezes out guts.

Ethan channels flames into his blade, turning it into a blazing arc of fire and lightning. Aranthor's eyes widen as he sees the strike coming, his weakened body unable to keep pace. He lowers his black blade, but it's too late. Ethan's long sword cuts clean through Aranthor's knees, severing his legs. The force of the strike sends Aranthor to the ground, his back against the sand.

Ethan doesn't pause. He steps forward, his nerves screaming in agony. Deflecting a last, desperate blow, Ethan drives his blade through Aranthor's able elbow. He twists the longsword, separating the severed joint in a pop.

"It's over," Ethan says. He stands above the defeated king, pressing Aranthor's blade on its owner's neck. The king looks at Ethan with defiance, not an ounce of fear in his eyes.

Considering all the threats neutralized, Ethan commands, 'Come, shadow.'

"What are you waiting for?" Aranthor barks alongside a gulp of blood. "It's only fitting that you'll be the one to kill me. Tying up a loose end."

"We could have talked," Ethan mutters. "I followed you into the labyrinth to inquire about Caelum; I had no intention to attack you."

"You wouldn't understand," Aranthor retorts.

"That you hate the gods and couldn't stomach the… will of the world's infidelity? You call us mongrels and decided to kill everyone here to show up your powers. Had I not been lucky; had I not spoken Aetherian, there would be no survivors of the labyrinth." Ethan says. "So no, I do not understand how someone who calls himself a king can give human life so little worth."

The words feel hypocritical to Ethan. He doesn't care about the people surrounding him either. But never in his right mind would he unleash his strength on them in such a maniacal display.

"Lucky," Aranthor murmurs with a laugh. "Mongrels have no worth. You'll see one day, when everyone you knew will have long turned to dust. They will repeat the mistakes of their ancestors and their ancestors before them. They are no better than cattle, of no value unless bound to an iron will."

What kind of life turned him so insane? Still keeping his foretelling gaze of the king, Ethan triggers Insight. The window, depicting him as Christopher Hayes, is obviously tempered with. But it's already evident to Ethan that the man before him is a high-human, like himself. His mind suffered from a single year of total seclusion; what would be left after millennials?

'Guard,' Ethan commands, hearing Anders heavy footsteps approaching. A shadowed lake spreads from Ethan, creating a wide area around them. Russ leaps out of it, growling.

Anders comes to a stop. He calls, "What are you waiting for?! We need you to heal River and the Paladin; come on!"

"You will kill him, won't you?" Aranthor asks, dazed.

"I will have his head for what he did," Ethan answers, the subject of their exchange clear to both.

"Good," Aranthor mutters.

"You asked about Caelum's location before, so you won't know where he is. But where is he likely to be? Where did you fight him last before hopping to our world?"

The blood flowing out of Aranthor's wounds dries up, his heart racing to keep him awake. "It's in Kingsreach, at the bottom of the royal academy of magic."

"Is there any other place like it? Can he build another one?" Ethan asks.

"No," Aranthor admits. "We found no other. Its secrets belong to a realm that has been sealed from ours; no one knows how to build another."

"What is he trying to achieve?" Ethan asks.

"I don't know," Aranthor admits. "For a long time, I thought he too was chosen by them, but I was mistaken. He…" His voice trails off as his consciousness fades.

Ethan sends a Lightning bolt into Aranthor's chest; it doesn't jolt him awake. Rowan's music cuts off, and the pains return. Ethan catches his heart, the organ pierced by a searing firebrand. He forces a last effort and slashes through the king's throat, the flesh resisting him.

"You leveled up. Russ leveled up (x5). Melee Weapon (Long sword) leveled up (x5). Melee Weapon (Saber) leveled up (x5). Melee weapon (Spear) leveled up (x5). Ether manipulation leveled up (x3). Life force manipulation leveled up (x2)," the system announces.

Aranthor's blade hums, calling out to Ethan. Russ growls from Ethan's shadow, sensing the danger. Ethan finds himself hesitating, his left hand trembling as it moves towards it.

"We don't have any potion, please," Anders calls. The voice drags Ethan out of the trance.

'I would have needed one. I need to heal myself first,' Ethan thinks. His heart bursts with pain, as if the muscle tore off in half. It still beats, but Ethan's Ether leaves him, the organ unable to hold it anymore.

Helicopter rotors echo, approaching their position. 'Shadow,' Ethan commands, not wanting the vehicle to fire upon Russ. He melts into the ground, and the lake of darkness shrinks down to reform Ethan's shadow.

He glances up to see a black, unmarked Blackhawk, the sight bringing relief. Picking up Phantom Reaver, he walks away from the body, dragging his feet. His sight darkens as his body struggles to move forward, every beat of his heart an agony.

Lifting a sandstorm, the Blackhawk lands in front of Ethan, and six soldiers exit it. They are clad in thick armor, armed with battle rifles, bearing no markings. Ethan senses Ether-dense metal in their plate carriers and other protections. A soldier stays inside to man a M2 Browning mounted instead of the usual M134 minigun. The machine gun is loaded with tungsten SLAP rounds. It must be a measure taken to handle bulletproof targets.

Five of them form an arc behind Ethan, walking backward as he advances. The last one places himself under his arm, easing his steps towards the helicopter. The soldier helping Ethan takes out an injector filled with red liquid. He stabs it into Ethan's jugular, releasing the cold stim into his blood. "Healing potion, sir."

"You were fast," Ethan mutters.

"We were waiting nearby," the soldier answers.

Anders runs at them, his shouts muffled by the engine and blades. Ethan can feel the potion healing his legs and skull, but it does nothing for his heart.

"Sir?" one of the soldiers asks.

"Warning shots, no more," Ethan answers.

The soldiers fire five rounds each at Anders' feet, purposely missing by a few centimeters. The armored man stops, yelling at Ethan. He tries to decipher the sounds, but it comes as a blur.

Ethan grabs a second injector from the soldier's plate carrier and throws it at Anders. The soldiers all see the gift but say nothing. The one aiming the machine gun grabs a box of rations and water behind him and lowers it to the ground.

Ethan steps into the helicopter, and the soldiers join him. The pilots lift them off the ground and take them to the skies. A soldier cuts open Ethan's shirt before moving his gloved hand around his chest.

"Ether burns on the heart, cracked ribs, commotion, ..." Ethan's mind trails off as his eyes close and a deep slumber takes him.