The carriage rattled past more alleys and cut past courts and home gardens. Sounds of the wide-open streets could now be heard in the bustling nightlife. Another jerk of a turn, and the horses entered a multi-lane route.
Expanding his senses, Ferase finally felt the shadows creeping close. They were not only behind him in pursuit; numerous targets were also rushing in from the other directions and all Ferase could do was to race past them. As he did, the carriage’s roof splintered into bits. A large portion of the support beam fell onto the side pavement and a wheel was sliced in half. Fortunately, with the robe worn alongside his preventive magick, not a blade managed to scratch him. Despite his safety, a horse was beheaded while another burned alive.
The last two ran uncontrollably wild. Helpless, Ferase watched on.
Together, the battered carriage charged straight ahead, crashing over a rickshaw and a passing food cart, before sliding to a halt at a city junction. Otherwise considered a town square.
The remains of a carriage toppled over to a corner and caught ablaze. The clean walk routes were covered with blood and ash, amidst the rush of evacuating alarmed residents. The four horses lay dead in pieces, scattered about the flat circular concourse.
As for Ferase, he found himself lying upon the base of the sole structure of this particular town square. It was a central fountain, whose porcelain statue was reduced to rubble in that chaos, and water leaked out from underneath.
“wuuuooo…”
He exhaled a deep breath.
Ferase looked up high in the sky as he rose from his crash.
The night was just as black and empty. Starless and cloudless.
Surrounding him was a clear landscape, tiled in wondrous shapes and patterns, that stretched far from the nearest stores and intersection entries for every major street. Now, it appeared as a dark shade to him.
‘Perhaps it was a good thing I ended up here.’
Like this, he could give his all to anyone that comes.
And he was right.
The shadows emerged out of the circle of lamp posts at the very edge of the concourse. They donned similar outfits to those that he killed back at the docks and alleyways. Associates of the Kiefrurpez.
“heh…” He was exasperated.
Knowing that the 8 groups of paired assassins encircled this old man, Ferase appeared lax and summoned an item he had never planned on using ever.
The shadows remained still as they saw a small glass vile of bright scarlet appeared on his palm.
Breaking the top, the butler drank it full, tasting a deep sense of sweet iron.
At first, he felt no change until moments later, Ferase felt his hairs on the edge. Blood circulated faster than ever and his eyes strained from the surge of energy building up within him. Veins popped from his wrinkly, freckled skin and his neck flushed red.
It was rejuvenating.
Never had he felt so young at this age. It was the first he used this and probably his last.
Another sigh came out of his heated breath.
However, there was something that bothered him.
Strangely, this was the best time when he was the most vulnerable to attacks but these assassins never proceeded with the killing.
‘What were they thinking?’
As he turned around to examine the others, Ferase then realized their actions.
Their bodies suddenly inflated like a forced balloon. Their bodies and limbs tore open with sheer force and were deceased from there. Their airborne fluids quickly twirled into the other, producing eight total makeshift, naturally occurring magick circles.
Ferase tried to cancel them out as soon as possible but these ones resisted. Resulting from his failures was a spread of black smog that engulfed the area around him as he stood guard.
The smog blocked his senses but he could make out faint sounds of rhythmic clanking of metal and the motion of a large crowd.
The tips of halberds jutted out of the retreating smoke and they eventually sank to the ground. What was once devoid of life was now filled with men of war.
Overall, he counted eight platoons of fifteen with a side of four for each. They were displaced across space and time from one of the numerous fortresses of the Kiefrurpez into this very town square. With him at the eye of the storm, the platoons were landed onto an octagonal encirclement formation. From all sides, Ferase saw knights, decked in full suits of armour and chainmail. They left no gaping holes nor blind spots. A special few wore full cloaks of dark purple and blue, positioning themselves as those of command.
Behind every group, four sorcerers were lined in a row. Unlike the knights, armour was limited to their most vital points with padded robes making the rest of their uniform.
“...”
Ferase took a step forward.
Immediately, the knights brandished their halberds in unison and the sorcerers raised their staves. Pulses of energy surrounded the ends.
In retaliation, Ferase unleashed a surge of intimidating pressure. All one hundred and fifty-two assailants felt as if a tonne slab of rock was to befall upon them. Some resisted more so than others. One commander, unidentified by his sleek helmet and mask, unsheathed his pristine sword of glimmering gray and approached with the man that served the Kiefrurpez’s eldest.
‘What a man.’
The commander thought. He has heard of who Ferase was for all his life. To now witness and battle him at last…
How has he fallen from grace? The prestige that everyone yearns for in their entire livelihoods. Why has he discarded it with such passion in his eyes?’
In his eyes, this old burnt man in a battered robe and sooted white formal attire, with hair unkempt like a mad man; what a juxtaposition to his venerable fighting spirit. The commander said his words.
“Sir Edelane, the Kiefrurpez Head orders you to reconsider his offer for the second time. Forgone your departed master and serve the right. It would be a waste to eliminate talent such as yours truly. Especially by the very men of your Master.”
“My stance still remains, Sir Knight.”
Ferase informed.
He then summoned his wooden cane and implanted it to the ground in a display of defiance.
Shocked by this unreasonable decision, the commander added a few words of his own.
“Perhaps, Sir Edelane requires some conditions for his own benefit. Why not revise your earlier statement? The Head might be more lenient to a retired sorcerer who served the house for all his life.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“I’m immovable, Sir Knight. Rather than pointless bloodshed, what about leaving me and the Lady alone? What has she done to deserve this trouble?”
“I’m uninformed of all the details. Nor do I have a say in this dispute regardless.”
‘At the very least, the Lady would no longer be of their attention.’
Ferase cheered.
“A Knight’s Code, huh…”
“So, I follow His Head. Hence!”
The commander raised his blade to eye level. His dark purple cloak flew amidst the winds.
“I’ll do what I must!”
“CHARGE!”
“ATTACK!”
“SORCERERS! TAKE AIM!”
In unison, the platoons shouted their cries of battle.
Walls of chalk white armor rushed towards the center.
Most of them had already received temporary increments to their strength and speed from some of the specialized sorcerers. In spite of the tremendous weight of Ferase’s pressure, they pushed through with grit. But…
“Listen…”
Ferase’s veins grew definitive and his eyes had a tinge of red.
“It would take more than this to stop a wizard like myself!”
He held his palm out towards the sky with vigour and his ring practically shone with brilliance.
“RELEASE!”
As they closed in, several blocks of solid air appeared in the blank of night, right above him. For a second as the knights and sorcerers glimpse overhead, the sight of blurring projectiles of lava, waves of pulsing arrows in a coat of blue aura and multiple flying swords on the brink of exploding, all apparently ‘frozen’ in time, brought along an overcast of dread across the platoons in its path.
In that moment, the sorcerers moved to unleash their attacks, hoping to counter the onslaught, while the knights helplessly braced for impact.
With a firm grip of his cane, the air casings dissipated, returning to the atmosphere where it was once taken. The projectiles held on to their original momentum and instantly accelerated to immeasurable speeds as Ferase descended ‘hellfire’ upon his adversaries. The sorcerers’ meagre spells of ice lances and spreads of concentrated lightning fell short of stopping any one of those attacks and was overridden indifferently.
There were no screams.
Either they died faster than their tongues moved or the resulting explosions and chaos deafened everyone within the premise of the town square alongside the outlier buildings. Tremors and aftershocks soon followed as those that were unharmed now stood frozen in fear. They all had heard about the old man’s power, but never how he got it. Yet now, they had no clue.
As the smoke sets aside, the commander, who miraculously survived, scanned the entire battlefield. And his wishes were crushed mercilessly.
More than half of the forces that were here minutes before were now all unrecognizable corpses. Many armour pieces were cracked to pieces, limbs scattered everywhere and for the others, the metal melted into the crisped flesh of his victims.
“s…slaughter…a massacre-”
At that moment he fazed, the commander let his guard down.
Inside his bevor, the air that wrapped around his neck sped up in circles, growing hotter and sharper until it sliced his defenceless neck from the body.
In his final moments, the commander felt he was airborne as his eyes settled to a wooden cane-oriented upside down.
A thump and blood spout later, his neck wound was cauterized and his well-toned body slump lifelessly to the ground.
“...”
But, Ferase was not done yet.
His attention soon laid at the scattered positions of the other sorcerers, to which he easily relocated. Only 10 remained.
“Dammit!”
Feeling his murderous intent, one pair readied their defences, a wall of flames and interlocking shells of pure ‘energy’ respectively. Normally one must pierce these shields before reaching them but it was the atmosphere that Ferase controls.
Unbeknownst to them, it was a wasteful endeavour and their heads were sent flying.
Some knights continued their sole attacks, while others teamed up with the others and operated in teams as trained from birth. More coloured projectiles rained down upon the old sorcerer, while blades of sharpened iron aimed for his vitals. Halberds thrusted in his way and hooks swung to pin and entrap.
With a mixture of solid walls of air, temporary air lifts and combat experience, Ferase weaved past all harm like he used to in his prime. In his wake, multiple more heads went airborne. Some had their blades sliced into two while others had entire limbs disarmed. It does not matter if they had reinforced spiritual energy throughout their body. Ferase’s sorcery would only be delayed by a mere few seconds.
Once he landed on the ground, a group of three wizards were preparing a huge bolt of lightning behind him.
“Take this, you bastard!”
The arrow blitzed towards his head but two layers of solid air destroyed its foundation.
Simultaneously, their heads paid the ultimate price.
Death.
.
.
.
Rows of halberds attempted a pincer attack but thickened slabs of air crushed their tips and several human blood fountains emerged. Taking the opportunity, a rageful knight closed the distance to close quarters combat. Coated with spiritual energy, his heavy axe carried its momentum and broke past several air shields and deflected a powered blade of air.
Surprised, Ferase slid under his forward horizontal swing and pointed his cane to the back of his cape. Two more cloaked knights also entered the fray, hoping to overwhelm the old wizard in his blind spots. The axe broke its intended course as his arms tensed, jerking to an upward diagonal slash.
Three fatal attacks…and three hardened air slashes met close to his skin. Just barely grazing the wizard as the blows were deflected off course.
Ferase then tried to aim for their heads, successfully only removing the latter two.
The knight with the axe had reinforced spiritual energy at this obvious killing zone.
“Yaahh!”
The knight returned with another onslaught of twirling slashes. His form was a wild whirlwind and Ferase nearly got trapped in a leg lock from the knight’s aggressive stances. Another white streak, and the wizard sidestepped to the side. Normally, his wilting body would crumple under such manoeuvres, but the vial removed those limiters for the time being.
He deflected another swing of the knight’s axe and it struck the ground in a huge crater. With haste, Ferase retreated to increase his distance. To the side, a nearby witch prepared another tunnel of slashing winds once Ferase landed. Still recovering his fatigue, he failed to react in time. Ferase could only soften the blow with a preliminary air shield as he endured the sharp gales head on. Numerous cuts formed all over his body and his wrinkles were outlined with fresh red. It was a thousand shearing stings all at once.
Even so, they left him no rest. The knight took his chance and launched forward, unleashing another charged strike in retaliation. The growing hurricane rushed relentlessly towards the old sorcerer. But it was because he was tenacious, he had survived this long.
Ferase strained his body further; he felt his veins bursting.
Spreading out his arms towards the two combatants, Ferase unleashed his spells.
The bulking mass of a knight was quickly encased within a block of solid air, breaking his advance, while the witch’s head finally went airborne.
‘now!’
Ferase struck the sapphire gemstone onto the block, emitting microscopic vibrations. Seconds later, the block cracked and all that remained of that skilled knight was a powdered mess of elements.
Now, only a third of the total force remained alive, and Ferase was not going to leave any cup unturned. Now that the adrenaline was still surging in his bloodstream…
‘All risks must be suppressed!’
As such, Ferase quickly sprung up back onto his feet and brandished his cane onto the next wave of assailants. His mind cleared, and the call for Magick, he heard it well once more.
Ferase felt the air around their necks and did the usual routine for the night.
Five more were sent flying.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Deflected.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
Decapitated.
“Huh?”
Ferase felt another one.
‘He survived?’
A chilling sensation.
A warrior’s instinct.
A death waiver.
His senses ran wild and the ranger met its mark. A purple flash blurred his vision as Ferase twisted his body fast to deflect a powerful strike of a blade with another reinforced air slash.
Unfortunately, it broke through, shattering like glass and it tore deep into his left shoulder blade. A deep gush appeared in bloody scarlet as Ferase retreated to increase their distance. His breath grew exasperated and dried; gasping desperately for air. His heartbeat surged in fright.
“I can’t believe my eyes, Sir Edelane.”
A man of tall stature appeared before him.
“wha…”
And Ferase’s eyes glared back.
“That attack was clearly a finishing move, a sure-fire way for a permanent stay to Heaven.”
“...”
“Or in your case, HELL!”
The swordsman stuck his sword to the ground. His face darkened.
“But both of those no longer matter, yet.”
“...”
“You survived!”
He smirked.
“...”
“But not for the second time.”
A murderous aura filled his venerable voice.