❄ ❅
As Krampus recoiled from Mya's blinding light, a look of terror spread across his face. Realizing his fatal mistake, he glanced down at the ancient scar on his chest and frantically clutched at it. But it was already too late. Dark energy, resembling billowing smoke, erupted from the wound. This malevolent power was rapidly sucked back into his black sack, draining his stolen strength.
Krampus, weakened and stricken, collapsed to one knee, his dominance waning.
Meanwhile, Santa, having just delivered a powerful blow to Krampus, found himself suddenly plunging to the floor. As he fell, he caught a glimpse of Krampus writhing in agony, shrinking in size.
In that heart-stopping moment of freefall, Mya's quick reflexes worked in overdrive. Using the telekinetic abilities granted by her cloak, she reached out with an unseen force and caught Santa mid-air. Her focus was unwavering as she carefully controlled his descent.
“Great catch!” Santa shouted, a wave of relief washing over him.
“Thanks!” Mya replied. She gently lowered Santa to the ground, ensuring his landing was as soft as a feather. The moment Santa’s boots touched the earth, the golem behind him crumbled, its form disintegrating into a lifeless heap of flesh.
"Did it work?" Mya asked, floating beside Santa, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and concern.
"Looks like it," Santa responded, his gaze fixed on Krampus.
Aurora, with a powerful beat of her wings, descended from the sky to join them on the ground. Their attention turned to Krampus, who, had now shrunken and bore little resemblance to the fearsome monster he once was.
Clutching desperately at the staff impaled through his chest, Krampus's claws were stained with his own blood. He coughed violently, each spasm counting his final moments.
Nearby, the remnants of the colossal golem that had towered over the battlefield only moments ago now lay in ruins. It had collapsed entirely, transforming back into a grotesque and reeking pile of flesh and bone.
"An te vicisse putas? (do you think you have won?)" Krampus snarled; his lips stained with blood.
Santa stood imposingly over the defeated beast, gripping his hammer with a firm hand. His eyes, unwavering, locked onto the enraged gaze of Krampus. "All this power, all this rage... What was it for?" Santa questioned, his voice embodying a mix of strength and calm. "You brought so much pain, but for what? Just for power?"
Krampus, weakened and cornered, responded with a rasp, "Me occidere non potes. Hoc non est qui es. (You can’t kill me. That’s not who you are.)"
A humourless chuckle escaped Santa's lips. "That Santa Claus, the one you knew, is long gone. Your thirst for power has made me who I am today, the one who stands before you, the one who will end you.”
"Perge ignave, (Go on, coward,)" Krampus weakly challenged, still defiant in his last moments.
Santa stood tall and resolute, his hammer gripped tightly in his hands. In a moment that seemed to freeze time itself, he lifted the hammer high above his head, muscles tensing, eyes focused intently on his target. Then, with a swift and purposeful motion, he brought the hammer down with all his might onto Krampus's skull.
The sound of cracking filled the air as Krampus's horns splintered and shattered, breaking away from his head. The brutal force of the hammer's impact crushed bone and matter, a grim finale to Krampus's reign. The hammer, relentless in its trajectory, didn't stop until it hit the earth, sending a muffled 'thud' echoing through the air as it bounced off the hard, dirt-packed ground. The finality of the act marked a stark end to the monster, a resounding closure to a fierce confrontation.
[Level Up! You are now Level 94]
[Level Up! You are now Level 95]
[Level Up! You are now Level 96]
[Level Up! You are now Level 97]
[Level Up! You are now Level 98]
🎅 Achievement Unlocked 🎅
Defeated Krampus!
Awarded for dealing the final blow to the monster Krampus.
Award type: Title
[Santa has gained the title: The Krampus Slayer]
[Level Up! Mya is now Level 27]
[Level Up! Aurora is now Level 91]
"Woah, level 98?" Mya asked, ignoring the grim execution she had just witnessed.
Santa responded with a subdued nod. There was no hint of satisfaction or joy in his face despite the significant increase in his power. He seemed far removed from the victory, his mind already on the consequences and the path ahead.
Mya watched him closely. Santa understood her curiosity in his sudden changes. He had gone through so many changes in this journey, and he was no longer the same, in so many ways.
"You look younger, at least," she said, trying to lighten the mood. Her comment was more than an observation; it was an attempt to cut through the sombre air with a touch of humour.
Santa, amidst the gravity of their recent victory, could only offer a small acknowledgment of her attempt to brighten the mood and was more focused on the task at hand. He moved towards the black sack, dismissing the lifeless form of Krampus. His concern was for any possible survivors trapped inside the sack.
"You alright?" Aurora asked, trailing along with him.
“Ill be fine,” he said, glancing towards the dragon. "It seems you are whole again."
Aurora responded with a radiant smile, her scales shimmering beautifully under the northern lights. “It feels great to feel like myself again!”
“But you’re still dead like us though,” Mya added.
“Way to burst her bubble,” Santa replied.
Aurora shrugged. “Death means nothing to those touched my magic.”
As Santa’s mind wondered at the implications of her words his eyes remained fixed on the black sack, Mya's voice drifted to him, somewhat wistfully, "Too bad you never got to level 99." She followed closely behind, her words hanging in the air.
Santa was aware of the milestone he was close to achieving, but he also knew it was no longer important. His thoughts wandered away from himself, turning instead to the village's ruins. A pang of guilt hit him as he thought of the reindeer caught in the explosion, a reminder of the massive list of sacrifices made.
Mya, energized by her own surge in experience, bubbled over with excitement as she spoke about her new spell abilities. She enthusiastically rattled off a list of her latest magical acquisitions, her voice filled with wonder and eagerness as she detailed an impressive array of ice and fire-based spells she had just unlocked.
Santa knelt beside the black sack. He gently parted the velvety black material, unveiling the interior which starkly contrasted with the familiar warmth of his own magical sack. Instead of a cozy, welcoming space, what lay before him was a grim and forbidding realm.
As the sack's mouth opened wider, it revealed a dungeon-like interior. The vast space was lined with cold, metallic cages and jail cells, each a sombre reminder of Krampus's cruelty.
Santa's expression grew graver as he took in the sight, the stark reality of the situation weighing heavily upon him. "Shall we?" Santa asked, turning his attention to Mya.
Before she could respond, a sudden flash of golden light interrupted them, catching everyone's attention. Santa raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"So, you're allowed to leave the house now?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.
S.E.R.G. bobbed in the air, nodding as it scanned the ravaged landscape of the village. "Twixy expanded my range manually so I could assess the situation," it explained, its digital voice echoing slightly in the open space.
Its sensors then locked onto the headless form and a shudder of discomfort passing through its golden frame. "So, the Beast is dead then?"
"For good this time," Santa affirmed.
"But the town?" S.E.R.G. inquired, its tone shifting to concern.
"Can be rebuilt," Aurora declared confidently.
Santa glanced at Aurora, a silent understanding passing between them. He then gestured towards the black sack and echoed Emrys’s sentiment, "Aurora is right, buildings can be rebuilt. The people are what’s important."
As they prepared to step inside the sack, S.E.R.G. interrupted with more news, its voice tinged with a hint of regret. "Santa, I must inform you that the workshop sustained damage from the explosion. More than half of the toys… They’ve been damaged, and with our current manpower, repairing them in time for Christmas seems unlikely."
Santa took a moment, his thoughts heavy with the new challenge that lay before him. He scanned the faces of his companions, each mirroring a blend of worry and resolve, united in their readiness to tackle the next obstacle in saving Christmas. Breaking the silence, he asked, “And how long do we have?”
“Forty-eight hours until the first drop, sir,” S.E.R.G. responded promptly.
Santa let out a deep sigh, the weight of their task sinking in. “The children, the presents, how will we manage it all?”
He pondered the broader implications – the world slowly losing touch with the true meaning of Christmas. Krampus's purpose may have been the downfall of the holiday spirit, along with his attempt to eliminate Santa and the elves.
Despite the heavy burden of these thoughts, Santa's resolve didn't waver. With a renewed sense of purpose, he steeled himself for the challenges ahead. Determined not to let this setback quell their spirits, he prepared to delve into the dark expanse of the black sack, Mya steadfastly by his side, ready to face whatever awaited them in its shadowy depths.
"Good job, S.E.R.G.," Santa said, managing a broad smile to put on a brave front. "We'll find a way. We always do."
S.E.R.G. acknowledged with a nod, its form ready to dart back to the warehouse. "I'll update the others about the town and the monster... everything.”
"Break it to them gently," Santa called after the golden figure as it floated away. He then whispered to himself, "Without S.E.R.G., we might have lost everything to darkness." Turning to Mya, he added, "Remind me to thank Twixy later, will you?"
"Sure thing. Now, let's head in."
“I’ll stand watch, I don’t think I’ll fit,” Aurora said.
Santa smiled and gestured for Mya to follow.
As Santa and Mya crossed the threshold of the black sack, they were met with a chilling reality. The interior unfurled into a vast, dimly lit dungeon, its air heavy with despair. Rows upon rows of cages and cells stretched out before them, each confining frightened children. The cold metal bars cast long, haunting shadows on the ground, adding to the sombre atmosphere.
In a separate section, the villagers huddled together, their bodies chained in a grim line. The chains clinked softly as they shifted, their faces worn with worry and exhaustion. The harsh reality of their captivity was written clearly on their faces.
But then, as they noticed Santa stepping into the dungeon, a remarkable transformation occurred. Eyes that had been dull with resignation sparkled with a flicker of hope. Faces that had been set in lines of despair softened, and tentative smiles began to replace looks of fear. The presence of Santa, a symbol of joy and benevolence, brought a ray of light into the dreary dungeon, kindling a sense of hope in the hearts of the captives.
Mya sensed Santa's overwhelming emotions at the sight. She nudged him gently, urging, "Say something."
Regaining his composure, Santa cleared his throat and turned to the captives. "Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas, everyone!" he announced. His voice, warm and infused with his characteristic cheer, resonated throughout the dungeon. The words, simple yet powerful, brought a glimmer of hope to those who heard them.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
🎅 NOTIFICATION: The Quest [mysterious tower – part 2] Has been restored.
‘Students have been found’
❄ ❅
❄ Quest completed! ❄
[+12300 EXP]
[Level Up! You are now Level 99]
[Santa has gained the ability: 🪄 The Ghosts of Christmas Past]
Santa disregarded his newly unlocked ability and sprang into action to assist the chained villagers. He called out to Mya, "Free the children!" Mya, responding immediately, dashed off in the opposite direction, her crimson cloak billowing behind her.
It only took Santa a few powerful strides to reach the villagers. As he approached, their faces lit up with hope, and cries of relief greeted him. He moved among them, offering waves, handshakes, and kind words, a comforting presence in the midst of their ordeal. When it came to freeing them, the shackles proved no match for his newfound strength; they crumbled easily under the force of his fingers, earning him further admiration and gratitude from the villagers.
With the villagers now free, Santa began to usher them towards the exit of the dark, dungeon-like space, guiding them towards safety and freedom.
Having accomplished her task, Mya hurried back to where Santa stood. She wasn't alone; by her side was a new figure, elegantly cloaked in the garment Mya had so carefully reconstructed. "Santa! This is Professor Meadow," Mya announced with a hint of pride in her voice. "She’s the headmaster of the tower."
Professor Meadow, a tall and slender figure, stood with a dignified poise. Her age was evident in the lines on her face and the silver streaks in her hair, yet her posture was straight, exuding a quiet strength despite her captivity.
Santa greeted her cordially and questioned her about how the tower had fallen under attack. Professor Meadow, launched into the tale of the tower's assault. She detailed how the magical artifacts, the very sources of their power, were stolen, leaving them defenceless. In her attempt to escape, the headmaster's magical cloak she wore was ripped when she was trying to get help, and without it, she found herself unable to protect herself or the others.
As Santa listened, he nodded, slowly connecting the dots of the story. Once she finished, he extended a generous offer. "You and your students are welcome to stay with us at the North Pole for as long as you need."
“We can?” she asked. “We’re in need of place, that is safe, and it seemed you have proven to be a staunch protector.”
Santa thought it over in his head and couldn’t think of a reason to say no. “I can’t see why not… And I suppose we will have to find a nice place for Aurora, maybe in the mountains?”
“Do you think she will stay?”
“It won’t hurt to ask.”
The professor's face lit up with excitement at the prospect of rebuilding in such an enchanted place. She expressed her gratitude profusely, even going so far as to compare Santa to Merlin reborn. Santa, in his typical humble manner, simply shrugged off the comparison, focusing instead on the task at hand - ensuring the safety and comfort of Professor Meadow and her students in their new temporary home.
As the trio guided the large group of villagers and children towards the exit, the villagers started to sing a song about Santa and his joyful spirit teaching the students as thy walked. The melody brought a small sense of happiness to Santa, but his joy was tempered by the knowledge of the damage to his workshop and the looming uncertainty of saving Christmas.
Upon stepping outside, the entire group was met with the ruined town.
Many villagers stood in stunned silence, unable to process the extent of the destruction. Professor Meadow, surveying the wreckage, commented on the unfortunate necessity of the village's sacrifice to protect the world. Santa nodded; his mind heavy with the weight of all the sacrifices that were made along the way.
Then, Professor Meadow added with a hint of resolve, “I suppose, as new residents of this fine town, our students and I will have to help with the rebuilding. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Santa's eyebrow arched in surprise. “Really?” he asked.
Professor Meadow chuckled, a twinkle in her eye. “Sir, we are magicians!”
Her words sparked a glimmer of hope in Santa's heart. With the aid of the magical tower's residents, perhaps the village could be restored quicker than he had dared to hope.
Mya, always curious and full of energy, chimed in, “Speaking of magic, did you check out your last ability yet?”
Santa shook his head. With the battle over, he felt that his combat powers were no longer necessary.
“Well, let’s have a look,” Mya persisted, unwilling to let the subject go.
“It’s hardly the time…” Santa began, but he was cut off by Professor Meadow, who had quickly picked up on Mya's insistent nature. “I don’t think she’s going to drop it,” the professor observed, recognizing the familiar spark of curiosity that often appeared in her students.
Santa sighed, resigned but slightly intrigued. “Fine, let's check it out then.” He conceded, understanding that sometimes curiosity needed to be satisfied, especially in the company of those who wielded magic. There was a sense of anticipation in the air as they all gathered around Santa.
🪄 Ghosts of Christmas Past
Description:
This spell embodies the heartwarming essence of Christmas, turning fallen minions into friendly ghosts. These spirits are purified by the magic of Christmas, shedding any malevolence or darkness that once clung to them. In their new form, they serve as benevolent guardians and helpers, embodying the spirit of giving and compassion that defines the holiday season.
Effects:
Resurrects all previously downed undead minions within a specified radius.
Transforms these minions into friendly ghosts, free from any previous dark or evil influence and allows the ghosts to enter fabricated bodies.
Spell incantation:
"Echoes of Yuletide, of those long since passed,
Arise as spirits, kind and vast.
From shadows deep and memories so vast,
Embrace the light, Ghosts of Christmas Past."
Cooldown: 14 days
Range: 10 yards (per level) radius
Mya, brimming with ideas, chimed in, “We have a whole bunch of Elf stuffed toys they can jump into! The spirit’s I mean.”
This suggestion sparked a flicker of hope within Santa. Realizing the potential of Mya's idea combined with the spell's power, his eyes lit up with newfound optimism. “But will they be able to make the toys in time?” he mused.
He turned, looking at Mya, Aurora, the gathered villagers, and all the children they had rescued. Their faces, a mixture of anticipation and hope, reflected back at him.
Feeling a surge of determination, Santa knew that if they all pitched in, they could accomplish this monumental task together. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp, cold air, and began to sing. His voice, clear and strong, carried the melody of the spell,
"Echoes of Yuletide, of those long since passed,
Arise as spirits, kind and vast.
From shadows deep and memories so vast,
Embrace the light, Ghosts of Christmas Past."
As Santa uttered the incantation, the area around them began to shimmer with an ethereal glow. Swirls of light, like dancing fireflies, filled the air, casting a soft, otherworldly glows. The gathered crowd stood transfixed; their faces illuminated by the magic.
From the heart of these swirling lights, ghostly figures started to materialize one after another. They emerged slowly, their forms gaining clarity as they transitioned from mere wisps to distinct, translucent shapes. Each ghost bore the faint outline of an elf, their expressions marked by a blend of confusion and dawning awareness.
These spectral elves hovered slightly above the ground, their feet not quite touching the earth. As they looked around, taking in their new existence, some glanced towards Santa with a lingering hint of defiance. Yet, in their ghostly state, they seemed less menacing, more like mischievous sprites caught in a moment of uncertainty.
Santa observed them calmly, a slight smile playing on his lips as he witnessed the transformation of his former adversaries into these bewildered spirits.
Before Santa could even speak, Mya was already in motion. “Can you grab the…” he began, but she was way ahead of him. “Already on it!” she called back, her voice carrying over the murmurs of the gathered crowd. Her pink hair danced beneath her smart green cap as she darted away, a blur of efficiency and determination.
Santa watched her for a moment, a smile gracing his face at her quick response. He then turned his attention back to the gathered ghosts, who seemed too stunned to react at first. But as realization dawned on them, they started to stir, a mischievous glint appearing in their ethereal eyes. Just as they seemed about to dive into some spectral shenanigans, Santa raised his hand to halt them.
"Ho, ho, hold on there!" he boomed, his voice carrying a mix of authority and warmth.
Among the newly materialized apparitions, one ghost drifted closer to Santa, capturing his attention. It was Malgrim, the elf who had once been a thorn in Santa's side. However, the transformation into a ghost had altered him. The habitual sneer that had seemed etched onto his face was gone, replaced now by a look of genuine curiosity. It was as if his malevolent nature had been cleansed, leaving behind a purified spirit, yet with a hint of playful mischief still lingering in his eyes.
[Malgrim the Mischievous, level 1]
"What... What's going on?" Malgrim asked, his voice tinged with confusion, as if he couldn't quite grasp the reality of his new existence.
Santa responded with the warmest smile he could muster. Despite the remnants of the battle's violence still marking his appearance, his expression was one of kindness and reassurance. "I have summoned you all to help me save Christmas," he said, his voice gentle yet firm.
As Santa's words resonated through the air, a remarkable transformation began to take place among the gathered spirits. They repeated the phrase silently, their mouths moving in unison with Santa's speech. As they did so, a subtle but visible change swept over their ghostly forms. A rosy glow began to fill them, as if they were being warmed from within by the very idea of aiding in such a noble cause. The transformation was not just physical; it was as if their spirits were being touched by the magic of Christmas, kindling a newfound purpose in their ethereal hearts.
As Santa pondered the logistics of his new plan, Mya reappeared, accompanied by Walterfink. They were pushing a massive cart, its wheels creaking under the weight of its festive cargo. Piled high on the cart were toys – an array of stuffed elf dolls, each adorned with cheerful faces and dressed in bright red uniforms.
Santa observed Mya with an expression blending surprise and admiration. "Boy, you're getting fast.”
"She’s levelled up so much, it's hard to keep pace with her now," Walterfink chimed in, his voice clear and precise.
Santa eyes widening in astonishment. "Is that so?" he inquired, intrigued by the change in Walterfink's speech.
"Yes," Mya interjected, her eyes sparkling with pride. "Your wife managed to heal his head," she explained.
Santa nodded, his gaze shifting between Mya and Walterfink, appreciating the remarkable progress and abilities of his team. Mya's enthusiasm was infectious, and it was clear that the combined skills of everyone present were going to be crucial in their efforts to save Christmas.
Together, they positioned the cart in front of the ghostly elves. Santa took one of the dolls from Mya, examining it closely. It was crafted with care, its features exuding a sense of joy and readiness for action.
"Are you sure this will work?" Santa asked, a hint of scepticism in his voice.
Mya shrugged, her expression one of hopeful optimism. Santa chuckled at her nonchalant attitude and turned to face the ghosts, holding the toy doll out towards them.
"You may be dead, and are spirits now, but here are your new bodies," he explained, his voice carrying a persuasive tone. "Go into them and help us save Christmas."
The ghosts looked at each other, their expressions a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. Then, Malgrim, always one to take the lead, drifted towards the doll Santa was holding. After a moment of hesitation, he merged with the toy. The doll's head turned, and to everyone's amazement, it began to speak in Malgrim's voice.
"This feels… sooo strange!" Malgrim exclaimed from his new plush form, looking down at his stitched hands and soft body.
He then addressed the other spirits, his voice carrying a newfound enthusiasm. "What are you waiting for?" he called out to them, encouraging them to embrace this unique opportunity.
One by one, the ghosts began to approach the cart, each selecting a doll and merging with it. As they did so, the toys came to life, their stitched faces animated with the spirits of the former elves. The transformation was remarkable – a union of spirit and fabric, giving birth to a new kind of helper.
Santa, taking the lead, beckoned everyone to follow him to the workshop. The procession was an extraordinary sight – a line of lively toy elves, hopeful villagers, a group of magical students and teachers, Aurora the dragon, and the eight enigmatic shadows moving in sync. They all trailed behind Santa, forming a diverse and colourful caravan through the remnants of the village.
As they walked, Mya leaned in closer to Santa and whispered, "What about the other elves? The dead ones in your red sack?"
Santa responded with a knowing smile, keeping his voice low. "I'll bring them back too, but it'll take some time. Their resurrection cooldown is rather lengthy," he explained.
Mya nodded, pondering for a moment before suggesting, "Couldn't you gift the resurrection ability to others to help speed things up?”
“Well, I’ll be… Mya. Twixy was right to send you by my side. You have a knack for this kind of things.”
“Naturally,” she giggled. “Although your wife seems to have the same talent.”
“Yeah?”
“You should see what she's done with the zombies you left in her care. They're hardly recognizable. They look 100% alive and like… butlers."
Santa let out a soft chuckle, filled with affection and admiration for his wife's capabilities and flare in the theatrics. "Even after all these years, she never ceases to amaze me," he mused. He patted his pocket, feeling the extra pills he carried. A mental note formed in his mind – Mrs. Claus would be the perfect candidate to receive them. With renewed purpose and a plan forming, Santa continued to lead the way, the twinkling lights of the workshop growing closer with each step.
As the procession neared the workshop, Mrs. Claus stood there, a solitary figure against the backdrop of the workshop's twinkling lights. Her eyes scanned the horizon, a mix of worry and hope etched on her face. When she caught sight of the approaching group, a wave of relief washed over her.
Santa, upon seeing his wife, quickened his pace, his heart swelling with emotion. With a few brisk strides, he reached her and, without a moment's hesitation, scooped her up in his arms. It was a spontaneous gesture, filled with all the love and gratitude he felt at that moment.
Mrs. Claus, taken aback by the sudden embrace, wrapped her arms around Santa, her face buried in his shoulder. The weight of the recent events seemed to lift.
She was safe. They were all safe.
And together……………… They would all save Christmas!
❄ The end. ❄
An Epilogue in song.
❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅ ❆
In the realm of wintery skies, a legend anew,
Rises Santa, a force both fierce and true.
Gone the sleigh, now a dragon glimmers bright,
Riding through the starry, silent night.
❄
Mighty and formidable, a sight to behold,
Santa Claus, in a story never before told.
Astride Aurora, with scales that shimmer and glow,
Through the cold winds, they majestically flow.
❄ ❅
Hundreds of elves, in their hands, gifts galore,
Leaping from the dragon, onto each door.
A sprinkle of magic, as they dash with delight,
Delivering presents, vanishing into the night.
❄ ❅ ❆
“Ho, ho, ho!” echoes with power and cheer,
Santa, the guardian, whom all revere.
With a heart of gold, and strength untold,
His new tale of wonder begins to unfold.
❄ ❅ ❆ ❄
Across the world, in the blink of an eye,
Under the glow of the moonlit sky.
Children wake to surprises, joyfully they sing,
Thanks to Santa Claus, the new Christmas king.
❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅
Riding the night with a dragon so bold,
In a story of magic, forever retold.
Santa, now a symbol of power and might,
Brings joy to all, on this blessed night.
❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅ ❆
So remember this tale, of the Santa reborn,
A legend, a hero, on Christmas morn.
With his band of elves, and his dragon of light,
Wishing all a Merry Christmas, and to all a good night!
❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅ ❆ ❄ ❅ ❆