Meanwhile, the raging beast charged again. This time the mage was ready, raising a shield and holding it strong. The impact still sent shockwaves through the city as Anger was pushing against the magical barrier, creating sparks at its point of contact. Suddenly Nazrem released the shield and dodged to the side, while the sword came down to the ground. From the flank, the mage launched an attack. The shadow blast sent the all-black warrior to the building next to them. But he was far from beaten. He jumped back up immediately.

'Tricks won't save you,' said the swordsman. The blast took a chunck of armor from his side. 'Do you hear the howling across the land? It's Baskerville's hound coming for your head!'

Part of the dark vines parted from his body, charging at Nazrem. In their path, they shaped themselves into a form, resembling a big black hound. A roar could be heard as the beast jumped at the mage, jaws open wide!

It got him! Biting down on his throat, rendering him to the ground as the monster enjoyed its prey. Or would have. For the warrior was no fool. He knew that his old foe wouldn't go down this easy. And in a moment of clarity, he noticed something. There was no blood flowing from the body.

Suddenly the illusion disappeared. And the real Nazrem walked forward from behind the stage. Wondering.

'Interesting. You are way stronger than I have imagined. It seems that this state of yours boosts your natural ability far beyond its limits. You might make a good,' he stopped for a moment, looking for the right word. 'Well, not an ally, but maybe a pet?'

The man called back the dog, merging with it once again.

'Im not your pet. I AM YOUR DEATH!' he charged once more.

'A pity,' Nazrem said. 'Thypoons blaze!'

Fire erupted from his hand. Bigger than any fire ever seen. The pyre engulfed not just the charging warrior but a good portion of the square as well. Wood burned to ash as the fire touched it. Stone's began to heat up, almost turning into magma just from the sheer heat of the spell.

'I'm truly sorry I had to do this,' the mage said; his voice was almost playful. 'I was really curious who you might be.'

But then something jumped out of the pyre of fire, so far up that the sorcerer almost could not see it.

The man, by stretching his arm, commanded the vines to strike down on his foe, and they obeyed! Black vines of pure hatred came down on the spellcaster down below, who barely avoided them. Then the warrior used the vines as a grapling hook and propelled himself towards his hated foe, bringing down his blade on him with an outwordly roar. The barrier took the impact again; the shockwave that was created shatterd the glasses of the windows all around them. But this time the shield shattered too, forcing Nazrem to his knees. As the man recovered, he said to the mage.

'Your fire's did not work then; they won't work on me now!'

Another strike was made, but this time the warmage pushed away the blade with psychic might and with an astral morningstar smashed the man in the chest! Armour shattered, bones cracked, and blood spilled out at the place of the impact. The warrior staggered as the mage put distance between them. And he let out a laugh as the pieces came together in his mind.

'It's you,' he said with a big grin on his face. Finally, he had a real target. 'Wingral's old playmate. The defender of lives. The squire of Sir Lionel. Ohoho. It's such a shame your "brother" can't be here right now. Tell me, how are the people of Facultatem?'

Those words awakened something in the man. He could feel it in his heart. Something was gripping it. He brushed it aside, and with another roar, he attacked again. This time Nazrem moved with the blow. He dodged every strike with a smirk on his face. His amulet started to glow in a sinister light. Suddenly he jumped back, readying his next move; the traveler followed. The mage spoke again.

'Tell me, do you have companions here? Will you protect them as well as you did back then?'

The raging warrior paid no heed to these words on the surface. He simply struck down on his foe, who parried the blow with his astral weapon.

But inside, something stirred again. The grip became stronger, and his thoughts began to whirl. 'Can I beat him now? Can I protect these people? What if I fail? What if im...'

He again brushed these thoughts aside.

'Your words only anger me!'

He struck out again. But this time Nazrem could not dodge or block in time. While the strike did not reach him fully, it did reach his stomach and slashed him across...

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And it did nothing. No blood, no wound.

The swordsman stopped for a moment.

'ANOTHER ILLUSION!' he cried out in rage.

The battlemage just smiled.

'Oh no, I am the real one,' he said. 'But tell me. Do you still hear them? Their screams?'

The man gripped his sword harder but was not charging yet.

'Do you hear her scream?'

The grip became ever stronger, almost unbearable. With a renewed devilish shout, the black-armored warrior struck again at Nazrem, who had jumped into the air, far far above the ground. The guilt-stricken warrior followed him.

The mage knew that the spell was working; all he needed was to find the right words. One final push.

But he underestimated the warrior. He quickly got up to him, readying the final blow, but the mage was quicker.

'You fought well, but your time has passed. Feel the grip of your past. Chains of guilt!'

With the incantation, Nazrem summoned chains from below the ground. They shot upwards, laching them onto each of the man's limbs. Then, with but a gesture, the sorcerer made the chains pull him down. He plumeted faster and faster to the ground. He tried to break the chains, but they were too strong. He braced for the impact. He came down with such force, like a boulder lunched from a mountain to the depths below.

Dust and rubble flown all over the once beautiful square. Once it settled, the crater created by the collision became visible. In the center there was the beaten warrior. He still tried to break free of his chains. Not ready to give in to the grip of his heart. Not going to surrender. He was going to prove it...

Nazrem got back to the ground with a feeling of victory.

'Well, well, well,' he started to speak in a high voice. 'Looks like once again it is proven. Once again, you could not stop me. But you knew that, did you not? No, you did not. After all, you tried to slay me with anger and rage! But led by that, you could never truly hurt me. Anger can never slay me. Once again, you have proven to me and yourself that despite all your power, You are just not good enough.'

Those words finished the onslaught on the man's heart. The grip finally broke it. The black armor has faded away. The vines got back to the blade, which he let fall from his hand to the ground. His regular armor upper parts were smashed during the battle and in the crash. So he just laid there. Broken in mind and body. There was no rage anymore. Just sadness.

'Ha, it still works like a charm,' exclaimed the triumphant mage. With a snapp, he made the chains disappear. They were not needed anymore. 'I have to say, at the beginning of our fight right there, you had me going for a minute. It's hard to fight against someone when I'm not concentrating or they block me out of their mind. Though it wasn't conscious in your case. At least your anger helped you that much. Regardless, it seems that you did not improve much since our last meeting. By Tartarus, I would even say that you got a bit weaker. And you have forgotten about this,' he said, showing his amulet to the man's face. 'This made me more powerful than ever! Still, I can't let you live. You could become... troublesome later. And we can't have that now, can we?'

The man looked up to his foe with tears in his eyes.

'Just do it, you bastard!' he said with a broken voice.

'As you wish,' smiled the victor. But before he could do that, a deep, reggel voice interrupted.

'Not so fast!'

The source of the voice came down to strike from the air. It was Wolf, and he brought down his mallet upon the mage. Nazrem quickly dodged it. Than without wasting a second, the veteran charged at him, striking from the side. But he was already too late. Nazrem grabbed the amulet and looked into him, avoiding the strike once again.

'That is all you are, right? A brute who only can fight and drink. No point in your life at all!'

Wolf could feel the grip on his heart as well, making it heavier than his mallet. The warmage casts a telekinetic wave against him, pushing him away and crashing at the side of the creator. He did not get up.

Than the sorcerer made a small, tipping gesture backwards. Stopping Scythians spearstrike in its tratracks.The old fighter struggled to get his weapon free but was unable to move it.

'Tell me, which was worse? Your failure to Gallahad or your failure to your own son?'

The old spearman froze in place as the grip settled inside of him. Nazrem turned around with a smile. Then he cast 'Midnights Light' against the once-squire, knocking him out completely.

The man looked at the events unfolding helplessly. He tried to get up but found that he was unnable too. His grief was too much.

'So these must be your new companions, eh?' asked Nazrem. Then a sinister grin appeared on his face. 'Why won't we play with them first?'

He approached the unconscious Scythian.

The beaten warrior was suddenly hit with the memories of the past. The burning village, the screams of the people.

'No!' he shouted, gathering all his remaining might into one final spell. 'Judgement of the God King!'

He hurled a great beam of lightning and thunder against the mage, aiming to at least set him back.

But it was no use. Nazrem simply gestured away the blast.

'Please, we have been over this,' he said with a sigh. 'You are really tiresome. No matter. Killing you and your friend will bring me great...' he suddenly stopped. His face changed, from triumph and victorious grin to tiredness and...

'Hollow?' he asked himself.

He looked around, and at the edge of the crater he saw it. The shadow that came to life. Looking like the deafeated warrior stretching his arm out towards the spellcaster. The Hollow was fighting against Nazrem.

'You have a Hollow latched to you,' he said in an emotionless voice. 'Youre more pathetic than I thought.'

The mage thought for a moment. While the creature did not make any physical move, with the warrior's current state, he knew that killing it would require too much energy and time. So he simply said.

'I think I was wrong. You will not be troublesome for long now. The creature will claim you as its prey soon enough. Let it have you.'

With that, he faded away as a black mist, flying away with the wind. The warrior was confused. Why did the Hollow save them? Why?

The pain and fatigue started to claim him as he lost touch with reality. He started to close his eyes, the grip on his heart staying strong. As he closed his eyes, he saw the creature fading away and the guard coming to their aid. His final thoughts stuck with him though.

'Im sorry everyone. I was just not good enough.'