The ghouls were faster and stronger than Zel’s zombies. It was becoming apparent that, even though it was four against six, the ghouls would win.
“My zombies! Do something!” Zel cried.
The necromancer was launching fire spells in an attempt to aid their undead minions.
“We’re trying!” Elora growled as she batted a ghoul’s clawed hand with her sword.
Two of Zel’s zombies managed to grab a ghoul. One zombie nearly lost their head as the ghoul chomped down on its neck with razor teeth. Karl planted his handaxe in its head while it was distracted.
“One down,” the enchanter stated while breathing hard.
Three ghouls remained, and only three zombies were left. Things were looking grim.
“Nearly three hundred years I have been trapped here,” the Devil Lord hissed.
In their fight, the creature’s hood fell back to reveal a gaunt hairless head on which a thin onyx crown rested upon. Dark tendrils snaked their way from beneath the headpiece into the skull, and Nameless knew that Sargus had made a fatal deal with the Devil Lord that had cost him his life and body.
“Is that thing, Sargus?” Karl asked. The Ooraki kept his distance from the deadly ghouls while also trying to hack at them.
“No, it’s a Devil Lord,” Nameless replied.
“Ahh, interesting,” Zel murmured.
“What’s a Devil Lord?” Elora asked after she lopped off a ghoul’s reaching hand with her sword.
“They trick lazy fools into believing they can get immediate power, but nothing can replace hard work. The Devil Lord, I wonder what their name is? They are in the crown,” Zel answered.
As the necromancer talked, their remaining zombies were destroyed. Karl and Elora were able to finish off one more ghoul leaving two left, and the Devil Lord.
The Devil Lord was an immortal being from the planes of Hell and was a master with the longsword. Yet, it was not enough against Nameless. The knight, whose memory continues to be shrouded in fog, had at least two lifetimes of pure combat experience on the battlefield. Nameless fought the Devil Lord as if he was not in full armor and avoided the onyx-colored blade.
ARMOR MAGIC REMAINING: 18.25%
BLADE OF THE VOID
AS FAR AS NAMES GO FOR ANCIENT MAGICAL SWORDS, THE BLADE OF THE VOID RANKS IN THE TOP TEN. HOWEVER, IN THE LIST OF ANCIENT MAGICAL WEAPONS, THE SWORD DOES NOT EVEN RANK IN THE TOP 100. BUT YOU ARE WISE TO NOT LET THE BLADE TOUCH YOUR ARMOR BECAUSE THE RIGHT HIT CAN PIERCE YOUR DEFENSES. THE BLADE WAS MADE FOR THE WARRIOR MAGE ARKAN BY THE WIZARDS OF TAMAEL. THIS WAS BEFORE THE CITY WAS SUBSUMED BY THE IMPERIUM.
ARKAN LATER WOULD BECOME KING OF THE CITY-STATE, AND HIS FAMILY LINE WOULD RULE TAMEAL FOR NEARLY TWO CENTURIES. ARKAN IS BURIED IN THIS TOMB ALONG WITH HIS PREDECESSORS AND FAMILY LINE, NOW LONG FORGOTTEN BY THE RESIDENTS OF TAMEAL AND THE IMPERIUM.
IT APPEARS SARGUS DISCOVERED THE TOMB ALONG WITH THE DEVIL LORD’S CROWN. YOU NOW HAVE ENOUGH INFORMATION TO KNOW HOW SARGUS’S TALE WOULD END. BUT, ENOUGH HISTORY LESSONS. YOU NEED TO DEFEAT THE DEVIL LORD IF YOU DO NOT. IT WILL SURELY TAKE POSSESSION OF THE ARMOR, KILL YOUR FRIENDS, REANIMATE THEM IN ORDER TO ESCAPE THIS TOMB TO SPREAD MISERY AND DEATH TO THE MORTAL REALMS. HOWEVER, THAT DOES NOT MATTER BECAUSE YOU WOULD HAVE FAILED YOUR ONE DUTY, WHICH WAS TO FIND AND PROTECT THE GIFTED ONE!
The Devil Lord feinted low and slashed high with perfect twists of his arms and hips. But Nameless anticipated the pattern of attack. He was not tricked by the feint and side-stepped the slash, avoiding the blade by a mere hair’s width while swinging his Dane axe up, around, and down into the Devil Lord’s left shoulder. The blow cleaved through rotten flesh and bone, nearly splitting the creature in half.
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The Devil Lord stumbled back as thousands of black tendrils emerged from the grievous wound to knit the body together.
“Why do you fight me? I can sense your soul trapped in that armor. You do not want to be here. You were no longer meant to be here! Allow me to free you!” The creature hissed. Malice dripped from its hoarse voice like wax from a candle.
Nameless ignored the Devil Lord and took a moment to study his surroundings and the current fight. He has done this countless times in countless battles. He knew the crown housed the Devil Lord, and the body of Sargus was just a vessel. He glanced around and saw that Karl, Elora, and Zel were fighting for their lives against the two ghouls. Fighting may be a bit much. They were more like fleeing and frantically keeping the sarcophagi and small shrines between them and the fierce undead chasing them. But the knight’s keen eyes noticed how the Devil Lord twitched its head and hands and how the ghouls responded by moving nearer toward him. Pretending to chase the others, but in reality, they were moving to get closer to Nameless.
The knight knew that his armor was what the Devil Lord wanted to replace the spent body of Sargus. The ghouls were not strong enough to harm him through the armor, but they could hold him long enough for the Devil Lord’s Blade of the Void to finish him. It was also clear that the Devil Lord was a master enchanter and could restore the magic if the armor was heavily damaged in the fight. Nameless nodded his head with a plan of action. In battle, sacrifices needed to be made.
“Can either of you finish them already!” Cried Zel.
“Maybe if you did something helpful!” Karl growled.
The three Academy students played a deadly game of tag, running in between the statues and raised stone coffins while keeping away from the deadly claws and fangs of the ghouls that gave chase.
“Zel split them up with a wall of fire,” ordered Elora.
“Oh, that is a good idea,” the necromancer replied while raising their slender hands.
The ghouls sprang to the sides as a wall of hot fire rose between them. They circled away from the students and slinked through the shadows between the shrines and stone coffins. Nameless nodded. This was it.
“Where did they go?” Karl asked. He, Zel, and Elora formed a triangle and covered each other’s backs. The Ooraki held his ax, Elora her sword and dagger, and Zel had flames in each of their hands.
The Devil Lord crept closer to Nameless with their midnight blade held before them. Creeping quietly over the shrines, the two ghouls prepared to pounce. They were confident that the knight was unaware. They were wrong.
“I will have the Armor and be free at last!” The Devil Lord roared.
The ghouls pounced. Nameless ducked one, and it flew past while splitting the other in half with his ax. The Devil Lord grinned with rotting teeth and lips as they sliced with their Blade of the Void. Nameless anticipated this attack and released his left hand from his ax to catch the sword. The magical edge bit deeply into the gauntleted hand, causing purple magic to leak out.
ARMOR MAGIC REMAINING: 14.75%
Nameless pulled the sword, and the Devil Lord was surprised by the move and did not release its grip, which allowed it to be dragged closer to the knight. Nameless, with his other hand, embedded the Dane axe into the twisted black crown and shattered it.
“Noooo!” Was all the Devil Lord could let out in a horse whisper before the fiery red orbs of its eyes faded and the long-dead corpse of Sargus crumpled to the ground.
The final ghoul stood in shock as it watched its master die. Zel quickly completed a series of gestures with their slender hands, and a force of dark energy emitted outwards. The ghoul stiffened and then snarled as it spun to face the necromancer. The two were locked in a battle of wills filled with negative energy. The ghoul howled. Elora and Karl stood by with weapons ready but were transfixed. Neither wanted to risk attacking the ghoul as it trashed about. Nameless dropped his ax to pull the sword free from his hand.
The ghoul finally subsided and knelt on the ground. “Masssster,” it hissed.
Zel grinned and wiped the sweat from their brow. Elora and Karl exchanged nervous glances with each other. Nameless gripped the Blade of the Void. The two-handed longsword was his preferred weapon. One that he had used thousands of times, and holding the blade triggered their memories. Like a flowing tidal wave, his true name was carried along with the remembrance of countless battles and countless foes falling to his sword strokes.
“My name,” the knight gasped and held the sword before him.
The others turned to look at Nameless.
“I am Impetitus Caseo the Third, Templar of the Blue Flame!” He shouted upwards toward the heavens.