“Lady Tabula, unregistered visitors are approaching EDEN’s perimeter.” Rain reported as he spied a trio of oddly tall humans dressed in shiny clothing from his position hovering high in the sky in drone form. It was nearly midnight, but the party still showed no sign of letting up.
“I see them.” She replied as she attuned herself to his optical channel. “Intercept and guide. Try not to disrupt the festivities. I will greet them in lord Gray’s absence.” She had an uneasy feeling about the trio, and her master had disappeared with that arrogant devil temptress some time ago.
Rain descended silently and resumed his regular penguin form as he landed just a dozen meters ahead of them at the edge of EDEN’s influence. He bowed and removed his yellow cap.
“Hi there! I’m here to guide you to EDEN. Right this way.” Rain yelled out as he turned to lead them through the dwarven commercial district, which was still crowded with mug hoisting revelers.
“You will bring us the one called Gray.” The man in front called back adamantly in heavily accented common.
A shadow suddenly blotted out the moon, and the ground shook violently as Yugal landed between the travelers and Rain with a shockwave that physically pushed the trio back a step. His fiery half roared like a forge and lit the scene like a bonfire. A dark skinned cat girl landed next to him a second later.
“Mr. Rain, forgive our interruption.” Yugal’s booming voice broke the stunned silence. “Miss Niiya has sensed ill intentions from these three.”
“Mm. Bloodlust. They stink bad.” Niiya confirmed.
“Rain. Clear the area, evacuate the civilians.” Tabula commanded in Rain’s mind. “If any enter our perimeter, Jade will incapacitate and quarantine.”
“Got it.” Jade agreed.
“What in the world is that!?” The female invader’s eyes were wide in shock at Yugal’s appearance.
“Something not mentioned in our notes.” The man beside her had also gone rigid. “That must be him, in some transformed state.”
“There can be no doubt. Now I understand lord Ogrun’s intentions.” The more stoic man in front agreed. “There is the beast kin girl, said to accompany him. Canela, seize the girl so that we may force his cooperation.” He ordered the woman in the imperial tongue.
“I am not your subordinate, Voros.” The woman named Canela snapped back as she drew a slender ebony wand from the silken sash around her waist.
“It’s better if you give up.” Niiya called out. “Guess you won’t though...” She added glumly as a shadowy coil of force appeared around her, tightening like a serpent.
She was then teleported to Canela’s side in the blink of an eye.
“Now then, Gray.” The man in front said haughtily in common. “Rejoice Unpure swine, for Voros the Sentinel and Bracken the Champion shall be your opponents this day. If you meet our expectations, you may have the honor of meeting lord Ogrun himself. If you fail, we will destroy this country in disdain for your weakness. Starting with this girl.”
“Shall we tell them?” Yugal ignored the man and spoke to Niiya.
“Asking now...” Niiya answered in that tone unique to a child on the phone with a parent asking if they could go to a friend’s house. She was still bound by the dark magic of the wand, and nodding her head as though listening to some silent conversation. “You heard that right? He said he would tell you too.”
“Indeed, miss Niiya.” Yugal affirmed, with a wicked grin growing across his wide featured face. “Rejoice uncouth invaders! Your opponents this day shall be none other than Yugal, Herald of the exalted lord Gray and commander of the forces of Ragnarok, and Niiya, Champion of the exalted lord and commander of the forces of the fallen! Do not bother begging for mercy, for the sins of your voice have marked you as foes. Miss Niiya, have your preparations been made?”
“Yep.” Niiya nodded. “Good to go.” With those three words, a wave of thick ash exploded up from the ground, and when it cleared all five of them were gone.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
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“Wait... what is this?” Bracken, the slender imperial blinked and found himself surrounded by a thick gray fog of some kind. “Voros! Canela...?” He shouted the first name, and dropped his volume on the second as a shadow in the fog on his peripheral vision caught his eye. He looked in that direction but an unbroken palette of gray was all he found.
He couldn’t see more than few meters in any direction, but the ground beneath him revealed that he was clearly not in the same place. Rugged stone and dirt had replaced the fine cobbles of the street. The smell of sulfur and acrid smoke had replaced the smell of wine and roasted meats.
He noticed the fine flecks of ash collect on the deep blue silk sleeve of his doublet and realized this wasn’t fog at all, but ash. He instantly tore the left sleeve from the priceless garment and quickly wrapped it around his nose and mouth, tying it behind his head. He knew ash could be a subtle killer, made up of tiny sharp fragments of stone and sulfur that infested the lungs over time.
A slight sound from behind triggered the finely tuned reflexes of the arena gladiator and he dove forward just as a tar-black blade ripped through the air where his neck had been. He spun to see a creature that could only be described in one way.
“A death knight? So this Gray is a necromancer? How distasteful.” Bracken smiled, the thrill of battle erasing his unease at the unexpected turn of events. “Perhaps this trip won’t be such a bland chore after all. I must thank lord Ogrun properly.”
Bracken crouched slightly, finding his center of balance. Faint runes appeared on the backs of his hands, glowing with a soft blue light which matched the color of the glow now illuminating his eyes. A blue spectral gladius appeared in his right hand, and a matching dirk appeared in his left hand. He lowered his stance a bit further, preparing to intercept the slowly approaching death knight.
Ashen wings suddenly sprouted from the Death Knight’s back, and it launched itself forward with a speed that the imperial gladiator was utterly unprepared for. He parried the mighty screeching strike with the crossed blades of his spectral weapons by reflex alone. This was no simple death knight after all. Bracken’s smile widened as he kicked off the black chest plate into a backflip.
A faint blue spectral kite shield appeared in the air above and behind him. He oriented himself in midair to land on the shield feet first. He bunched himself up, and launched back toward the death knight in a blur, weapon points leading.
“Break.” He spoke a word, and the tips of his blades glowed white as he passed just ahead of the death knight’s next swing. The weapons slid into the black chest plate with little resistance, and white cracks spread all along the surface of the armor. The death knight was defeated. Bracken really believed that for a moment.
A hot explosion of pain tore through Bracken’s midsection as the black blade of the greatsword bit into his enchanted doublet and cut deeply into his flesh. His ribs barely protected his vital organs from the blow, but the force of it sent him flying into a bouncing roll across the volcanic rock. Bracken struggled to draw a breath. His regeneration would heal him, he just needed to hold on. He rose to one knee and waited for the pain to recede. It didn’t. He looked down, and saw blood still flowing from his torn side.
“So that’s...why.” He grimaced as he ripped the fabric, revealing the wound. The edges were crusted with crystallized ash, interfering with his healing factor. He looked up at the death knight, who seemed to be patiently waiting for him. “Arrogant for an undead puppet, aren’t you?”
He focused his power into the blade of his gladius, and it turned white, radiating heat and cleansing light. He touched the blade to his wound and growled away the pain as it was cauterized.
“Very well, I’ll get a bit serious.” His dirk disappeared and was replaced with the spectral kite shield, and his gladius grew in length, becoming a bright longsword wreathed in blue flame. An array of floating spectral weapons appeared all around him. A warhammer, a trident, a dirk, and two scimitars all glowing blue orbited the gladiator slowly.
“I am Bracken, The Arsenal, Champion of the Arena, and I shall be the one to end your wretched un-life.” Bracken Saluted the death knight, and slowly advanced.
As if in mockery of the display, ash coalesced and darkened into several black motes around the death knight and began to elongate. A moment later, six black greatswords floated around the winged death knight.
A sudden realization in the form of a memory came to Bracken as he watched the death knight mimic his greatest power. As a child, he had watched his mother’s pet celestial lynx snatch a dove from the railing of a balcony before spending several minutes toying with the unfortunate bird.
“You think you can toy with me?” A wave of genuine anger darkened the man’s face. “I am one of the Pure! You are closer to ants than to me! Your trump card dies now, then I’ll take my time with you!”
They collided in a flash. Ash swirled in violent cyclones as the plethora of weapons clashed and screeched against one another.
Several minutes passed, and the duel only grew more brutal. Bracken’s shield arm was stinging from the barrage of jarring impacts, and he was dripping blood from several new wounds. In spite of that, he was undoubtedly winning. The death knight was riddled with cracks, and one arm had been hacked away. Still, it showed no hesitation in its attacks and beyond all reason it seemed to be learning as it fought. It was futile though, and Bracken roared in triumph as his longsword finally split through the collar of the knight’s armor and passed all the way through to the undead’s opposite hip. It fell into two halves and shattered into piles of ash as it hit the ground.
This death knight must have been a truly legendary monster. It was a shame no bard would witness this triumph, for it would certainly merit a ballad.
“There!” He shouted into the ash. “Now you’re defenseless. Present yourself now and I may yet spare you, make me find you and I’ll show no mercy.”
A slow, ominous clapping sound came from just beyond his field of vision. The ash slowly receded in a widening ring around Bracken. The clapper was the little cat girl, and then the ash receded a bit further.
Bracken’s spirit broke as instantly and surely as if it were shattered on Ogrun’s anvil. Hundreds of death knights identical to the one he had defeated now surrounded him in perfect ranks. Behind the cat girl, a dozen crocodile headed demons knelt in deference to her. Threshodons were demon nobility, why are they submitting to a beast kin..?! Behind them, five hulking black werewolves drooled with gleaming eyes and long yellow fangs. This was all wrong. This continent was supposed to be a hive of weaklings since the fall of the Almiraj. Just who is this monster in a girl’s body?
“Good job.” The girl said as she stopped her slow clap. “Beat two at once and I might play with you myself.”
One threshodon and one werewolf stepped away from their ranks and stood before Bracken, towering over the imperial that was so accustomed to looking down on everything.
Bracken’s throat was too dry for words. He raised his sword and shield, and willed his arsenal of spectral weapons back into existence. The threshodon and werewolf both let out deep growls that made Bracken’s stomach lurch in primal fear.
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Somewhere nearby, Voros and Canela found themselves in a wide field of broken stone and bubbling pools. Before them loomed the titanic Yugal. Half of his body was wreathed in roaring fire, and the other half radiated a chill that surpassed the coldest winter.
A distant blood curdling scream echoed through the ash, and sent a chill up the spines of the pair of invaders.
“Seems your friend has met miss Niiya.” The great giant answered their worried stares. “Do not fret, you’ll be reunited soon.”