Damien was losing, and he was losing badly. He didn't know how. Whether it was the fact that he was battling a Spirit King–a stupid thing to do–or the fact that he was doing it inside said Spirit King's domain–another unwise thing to do unless you had your own domain to protect you.
He was slammed into the side of one of Xeris' mountains, his crash going on so long that he drew a large, deep line on the side of the mountain with his body.
His body lurched to a sudden stop, which caused his body to spew out huge amounts of blood. He didn't have time to wonder why before he was slammed again, this time in reverse.
Over the course of several minutes–from what he could tell over his few moments of clarity–he was tossed around like a dolphin caught between a group of whales who hadn't decided on how to finish it yet. Except his own whale was in the form of a man.... a man with a very powerful hammer.
Through the course of his constant tossing around, the bones in his body were all either broken or cracked–with him finding it very hard and painful to even move any part of his body.
Finally, broken, beaten, and looking like a mentally depraved flesh crafter who'd just finished a bodily experiment on themself, his heavily broken and bleeding body was allowed to crash to the ground and stay there.
To those watching from afar, this sudden change in circumstances was a heavy hit on the morale of the alliance. Over the course of the war, a lot of them had watched Damien do battle with multiple opponents and come out on top, crushing them with overwhelming power.
It had gotten to the extent that the only person capable of actually standing up to him was the Solarian Emperor, and that was because he was a Spirit King.
They'd built up this belief of him being invulnerable, even to Spirit Kings. It had greatly helped in raising morale in the common soldiers of the alliance and had done quite the opposite with their opponents, setting on in their minds some kind of terror that made them quaver at the mention of his name.
But now, morale in the alliance was on an all-time low, both on the common soldiers and higher-ups as they watched their make-believe demigod get beaten into a sack of bloody rags.
"Look at you, the great Damien Elason. Champion of the weak and the first line of defense against the terrible Empire," Solaris mocked as he slowly approached, dragging his crimson-yellow glowing Warhammer on the earth, melting it behind its passage.
Damien could only gurgle up blood in reply. His throat was not working well.
"You know... I actually thought you'd make a great opponent? You've come out alive so often that I at least expected more from you. Maybe that was a mistake on my part. No Spirit lord, no matter how strong, can survive for long against a Spirit King. Including you."
Having taken all the time in the world, the man finally got to Damien, standing over his broken body.
"Is this it, then? Your last stand? The end of the great protector? Ha! Do you know how hard it is to get the attention of Spirit Kings? Unless you are high-ranking in the clergy, you are invisible to them. And you... You've drawn the attention of not one, not two, but multiple. Both from the cults and the families. An outstanding feat. It wasn't a doubt amongst our ranks that you would have made a great Spirit King on your ascension. Too bad you had to ruin it going against me."
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Damien couldn't see well, his vision all red and darkening.
"Ahhh, I'm rambling again, so unusual of me," Solaris raised his hammer. "Farewell, warrior."
"Noooo!!!!"
Through his darkening vision, Damien watched in slow motion as Keilan came in swinging, and in that same slow motion, he watched as Solaris' hammer, backed by the full might of his domain, slammed instead into Keilan.
His heart lurched to a stop, and all went dark.
***
There are monumental moments, unpredictable events that will forever echo and change the future of the world, no going back. The First Grand War. The Desolation of the Norelane Continent. The beginning of The Second Grand War. And now, this moment.
From the inception of the universe, Every event that had ever taken place, whether good or bad, was led by the act of a single decision. A single decision that either led to the deaths of innumerable beings, or their salvation.
The moment Solaris' hammer slammed into Keilan, a decision was made. Solaris didn't know it at the time, but he was sure to figure it out soon enough. They all were.
Menoe rushed to the unconscious body of Keilan, stopping his crashing body halfway. Immediately she caught his body, she froze him, pouring her intent for preservation on the quickly forming ice. His life force was fading, and it was fading fast. The ice was stalling the process, but she could still detect small gradual draining of his life force.
She opened her mouth to call out when she stopped, and the person on her mind suddenly appeared beside her.
Spirit Lady Desane brought out a full rose flower, putting and leaving it over Keilan's cocoon of ice. Huge rivers of life energy began pouring down on him.
"This should stall the process, at least for a while, until the primeval rose is completely drained," Seeing the hope in Menoe's face, she warned. "Do not mistake this for healing. He took a full-on attack from a Spirit King. He's lucky to still be alive. He needs immediate attention from a Spirit Queen Life wielder. This is just to stall the process until this battle ends."
When she heard that, Menoe's mood immediately worsened, not only for Keilan but for Damien. She would have jumped at the chance to save him, but that would do nothing but add to another casualty.
"Together. Let's attack him together. Maybe we can stall him enough for someone to take Damien away," She said, putting Keilan down.
"No. Don't be foolish, Menoe. As it is like this, the combined might of both of us would onl—
BOOM! CRACK!
Desane' voice trailed off as the sky darkened, turning a deep grey monochrome, like all the life had been drained out of the world.
The sky tore open as four pillars descended over the body of Solaris and Damien, their colors matching the same desolate environment.
Menoe wasn't that old compared to Spirit Kings, but she was old enough to be regarded with respect in their ranks. And during all her years of living, her soul had grown from the combination of all her past experiences, to the extent that it took the aura of a Spirit King to completely immobilize her.
So she was more terrified than surprised when her knees crashed to the ground as an aura pulsed out. Everyone did.
"Urggh," Desane grunted beside her as her kneeling form tried to stand up, fighting against the aura pressing down on them, and losing.
Her shocked eyes were immediately drawn to the figure of Solaris and the now-standing Damien.
To her shock and dismay, when she looked at him, she didn't recognize the boy she had met all those years. The naive, determined boy who only wanted justice for the wrong done to him.
His face was devoid of all emotion, and that terrified her more than anything.
Solaris knees quavered as he tried to keep himself from kneeling, making use of his Spirit King aura to bolster quivering knees.
Damien's emotionless eyes gazed down on him, no expression on his face as he looked down on his arch-enemy.
"How— Wh– what are you?" Solaris choked out.
Damien didn't answer, but his answer came as light flashed, and Menoe watched, dumb smacked, as Solaris' head–albeit that of his avatar–fell to the ground, detached from his body.
Still, no expression was on Damien's face as he looked around, taking them all in, before his gaze then turned to the sky. And in a crack of thunder and earth, he disappeared.