About Time (5)

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The rumbling sound of aged mortar crashing down rippled throughout the courtyard. I wanted to spare the destruction a glance but right now the best I could do was hope that Flynn’s attack had hit its mark.

Even with all the shaking, dust, dirt and debris blowing around I couldn’t let myself lose focus yet.

I still had to finish this guy off quickly.

His attacks were stronger now—around level three— but his fighting style hadn’t changed at all from back then.

If his opponent stalled him for long enough then eventually, all he could really do was hurl sharp gales of wind at them like he was doing now since he didn’t have an aberrant attribute.

The rapid-fire blades smashed against my barrier ruthlessly, but that was all they could do.

“Julia, hold your breath for a second.” I urged her

Deciphering my intent, she nodded sharply, quickly inhaling a column of air in seconds, then gave me a thumbs up with her cheeks puffed out.

Now I could finish this.

The six fist-sized embers swirling around my palm merged into one, undergoing a sizzling sequence of turns and compressions before shifting to a bright cerulean color, transforming into plasma.

I timed my next attack with the brief gaps in Demir’s onslaught. As soon as the opportunity appeared, I compressed the gale barrier around us down to just the size needed to contain the searing plasma orb in my hand.

The air rushed from Julia’s cheeks the moment I created the vacuum, but it was worth it. He couldn’t defend against this one. The sphere compressed further in my palm as I swung my arm back and unleashed a wave of hellfire at my opponent.

‘Pyrolux’ (burning light)

Demir tried boosting himself away with air currents but the attack was too fast. His only other option was to compress a barrier of rotating air around himself but that still wouldn’t work.

Plasma was different from ordinary flames.

It could reach higher temperatures and didn’t even need air to ignite so a last-minute wind barrier couldn’t last more than five seconds at most. He soon learned this for himself as the surge of hellish flames tore past his defense, searing his skin as it washed over him with a bright blue glow.

A series of screams tore free from his throat, increasing in intensity as he thrashed in the dirt. His body —which seemed to be charring by the second— sizzled like meat dropped into hot oil. His screams weren’t particularly appealing to me, though a part of me did feel a tinge of satisfaction seeing him get humbled like this.

My eyes dropped down to my feet, scanning the half-roasted figure of what was once a prideful elf. Julia scooted over beside me, solemnly staring down the charred body of her friend.

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“Do you have any last words for him?” I asked hesitantly, though I’m certain she knew full well the real meaning behind that question.

Through sheer tenacity, Demir still had the enough vigor left to start crawling towards her. Julia flinched, half looking like she wanted to save him from the searing pain of those third-degree burns, but instinctively, she retracted her hand upon hearing his plea.

“S..ig...num...sig..num.....sig...”

Her hand clenched against her bosom incredulously, and for good reason too.

In the end, that's all she was to these people.

She took a few deep breaths to compose herself, then replied to his dying greed with what sounded like a eulogy.

“Demir, I'm sorry things turned out like this. I hope you can find peace inside lady Fiona’s embrace.”

A gargling sound came from the charred creature crawling at her, though it seems she had already made peace with my decision.

Flames erupted from my palm, cackling intensely as I aimed the small inferno at my half-dead foe.

Then, a shout pierced my ears -

“Oliver look out!!”

My head spun to see a large chunk of the old fort hurtling towards us from beyond a thick dust cloud, its jagged edges catching the light as it tore through the air. I barely had time to react before it smashed us to pieces, forcing me to blast away the concrete slab with an arc of flames.

The initial threat was averted, but that wasn’t the end. Two more stone slabs—both larger than the last—came flying at us from the same direction. Instinctively, my arms swooped Julia off her feet before I willed the winds to boost us away.

Large chunks of rock seemed to chase after us as the slammed into the ground one by one, only stopping once we cleared a certain distance. Then, I realized it — That was just a diversion.

Thanks to the plumes of dust swirling through the courtyard, it was difficult to make out our surroundings, but the perpetrator soon came into view as the debris settled.

It was that large man they called Broin. His face still held that stony expression, cold and unmoving.

The white robe draped around him was smeared with crimson splatters and stains, though the man himself didn’t seem to care much. His only goal was the retrieval of his half-roasted comrade who was now slung across his shoulder like an old sac.

Seeing him act so nonchalant after killing about a third of all the raiders who attempted to flee made my blood boil. A newfound rage was starting to brew inside my core.

I was mere moments away from confronting him when his head idly turned towards the collapsed site of the fort. I followed his line of sight only to mirror the same slack jawed expression as my comrades.

Flynn in particular, had slumped to his knees in despair.

“Impossible....That was a direct hit...from my strongest spell.”

The magic circle was untouched; it was there in that same clearing, pulsing with a deep crimson glow that grew more eerie by the second.

To emphasize our plight— as if that wasn’t bad enough— it was the figure in the distance casually sauntering towards us as if this was all just some sick joke that truly sent a pang of fear up my spine.

Vidar’s lips twisted into a wicked smirk as he surveyed the ruined courtyard, relishing our despair.

In one hand was Aryan’s limp body—whom he was casually dragging by the throat —and in the other was a double pronged metal lance, gleaming to its tip; it was Flynn’s trusted weapon which he had so courteously named “Icarus.”

The weapon had seen more action than even some seasoned raiders, and yet the man simply slung it across his shoulder blade as if it was nothing more than a simple toy.

He casually tossed Aryan’s twitching body into the ominous spell formation, then, he looked up to gloat at Flynn and said -

“You dropped this.”