The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 606: Empire’s Invasion [24]

“How presumptuous,” groaned the salivating aedric beasts. It pounced looking for blood, the claws struck to no avail, the immediate rock face crumbled into boulders. Blades stained by the life of many others slid off the sheath, the figure blinked to reappear beside the creature, a brazen upward slash cleanly beheaded the monster. No turning back nor standing on guard, the blade returned as quickly as it entered the battle. No mercy nor emotions, the tall figure promenaded in to stand before the crowd.

“NO, JONAS!” cried the supposed leader, “-HOW DARE YOU SLAY ONE OF OUR BROTHERS.”

“Lady Rouge,” Tharis left its holster, “-a question, mind entertaining this humble traveler?”

“What is it?” her eyes narrowed to say, ‘-what a fool.’

“Vane’s cult,” he leaped onto the precarious edifice, ‘-her back has been burnt and inscribed with many curses. Can’t quite get the read on their intent.’ Rivaling her one more,”-what’s there to accomplish?”

“My revival,” cackles echoed, “-the girl who’s so diligently worked as our slave will soon bear the embodiment of our struggles and pain. She’ll give birth to a demoness, the reincarnation of lady Vane.”

“In comparison to the ancient demon Draconis, how does her strength measure?”

.....

“Why would you ask that... hell, where was that blasphemous name even heard. Lady Vane is second to our greatest goddess, the Curse Princess, Lady Akina.”

“I see,” the face hung low to stare the captive, “-what about the townspeople. I’ve seen them suffer tremendously...”

“Devotees,” exclaimed lady Rouge, “-look at the murderer, he’s realized the foolishness in his actions.” The lips murmured a few words, the captive’s eyes and mouth widened; her face flushed, a few words were exchanged.

“Tis our god’s work, the afflicted illness is a conduit for my goddess’s rebirth. The ceremony is over, today’s the day of celebration, nothing can be done to undo what we’ve accomplished,” her arms climbed to celebrate confidently.

“About your rebirth?” wondered he.

“Doesn’t matter, my duty as a servant has been accomplished,” her exalted visage dropped to a daring stare-off.

“Last question,” Tharis’s barrel locked onto the crowd below, “-would thee consider peacefully leaving this cave?”

“...” Silence and perplexed thought tremored the room, “-leave peacefully?” snickered a bystander, “-we’re heretics, the worst of the worst. Tis a matter of time till our deaths. We’ve served our purpose; the rest is in lady Rouge’s hands!”

*Astral Aspect – Disintegration.* ‘-Time to clean up the trash.’

“YOU’LL NEVER WIN, NOW MY SERVANTS, ATTACK.” The latest_epi_sodes are on_the novelenglish.net . Fire(.)nᴇt

“Heard that one a lot of times,” *bang,* an instant hit, the impact imploded to swallow her arms, the striking pain knocked her mind out of consciousness. ‘So much for that,’ he floated down, ‘-a single shot, and my mana goes haywire. Whatever,’ the stance lowered, ‘-guess I’ll do it the old fashion way.’ *Blood-Arts: Bloody Mary.* An imaginary voice of Adete said, ‘-on it,’ flash images of her controlling the blood lingered.

‘She’s still at my side.’

“Toggled to battle-mode,” said éclair, “-go give them hell.” Orenmir’s aura alone chilled the already freezing cave. Instinct cried. The participants altered their forms to demi-demons borrowing powers from Balone, the realm currently ruled by Lucifer. Hordes of tens darted for vital spots, ‘-I feel it,’ he smirked, the crimson eyes dulled into a tranquil lake, ‘-the weightlessness of a fight to the death. My muscles, my mind, my reactions,’ each strike, albeit faster than normal humans felt slow, ‘-the cries of the battlefield,’ memories of the childhood crept from the darkest part of his mind. ‘-No one deserves a fate such as mine.’ Orenmir sprawled into action, heads, limbs, minute movement ending in sprouts of speed, one moment before the enemy, the next behind. Blood soaked the ragged walls, in a matter of minutes, the numbers plummeted to the remaining ten. *cling,* the crimson halo sparkled in the dim lighting.

“Wait a moment, this fight is over,” they begged.

A monotonous reply said, “-no, it’s not.”

“Yes, we yield,” they knelt, “-no more fighting.”

“Impossible,” returned he, “-fighters who’d give up the fight are not worth my time,” he vanished leaving a timid afterimage, “-be ready for thine execution.” A seamless stroke beheaded the last of the cultists. Half of the visage was drenched, ‘-such a pleasant feeling,’ Orenmir cried in ecstasy, the energy took material form – an ascending white flame. ‘Those slain by my blade are subject to never-ending suffering,’ wisp-like critters levitated from the corpses, ‘-forever trapped in the hell of slaughter. The blade returned; as did the spirits who flocked onto the scabbard.

‘W-what happened here?’

“Perfect timing, Lady Rouge.”

“What... my p-people, t-t-the humble f-followers of my f-faith. T-they w-were all granted with the boon of beast conversion, how c-could t-they be defeated.”

“Simple really,” returned Igna nonchalantly.

“You,” she stood and turned, laying her eyes on the result. “Drenched in blood, an aura of a demon, canines of a nightwalker and a shadow as dark as the abyss. You’re him, the harbinger of death.”

“Correct,” he left the kind cover of shadows, “-Igna Haggard, heir to death, how might I be of service?”

“I didn’t expect it to happen so promptly,” she laughed maniacally, “-my quest’s accomplished,” the posture and mien drowned into insanity.

“Do drop the crazed behavior.”

“Never,” she giggled, “-I’m the apostle of Vane, lady Rouge. She foretold on the day of her awakening; an inconspicuous man would arrive to take her hand. Her revival is complete,” the fingers trembled towards the edifice. A surge of Aedric energy blasted the area, ‘-nearly lost my footing,’ complained he.

“It begins,” she leaped, “-IGNA HAGGARD, WE’RE SERVANTS OF LUCIFER,” the body splattered against the mossy canvas.

A beam of dark aura shot out the cave and into the clear sky. White clouds drenched in the color of woe, the weather altered, jovial to sorrowful, rain and thunder strewed across the land. Bullet-like raindrops showered, the forest and hill whimpered anxiously.

“DRACONIS, come back.”

“Can I look now?” the horns innocently side-glanced. There, in the corner, Igna furiously signaled. *Woosh,* fire spewed off the soles.

“Got you,” they twirled to a stop, “-don’t burn off the shoes...”

“Sorry pops,” returned a brash apology, “-it’s her, my friend, I can sense her presence. She’s going to awaken soon, just like me.”

The body hovered, a greenish light imploded to purple, the lady disintegrated. Rotten petals spiraled to a sizeable tornado. Jolts of electricity sparkled; a ravenous growl beckoned the age of torment. The elements intertwined. Tremors snuck into the neighboring villages and towns. An earthquake or the eruption of a volcano. One after the other, the piled-up events reminisced of what the end of the world might be like. The clouds turned red; the lightning flashed in purple. The curious caught glimpses of Svein’s hill, the epicenter clouded in a deluge of cursed power. ‘Are we going to die?’

Inside, the remains of what Blood-Arts failed to assimilate amalgamated in a hefty orb. ‘There’s some serious power.’

The eyes of truth subconsciously bleached the blood-soaked red. Fabrics to reality shredded, a vile portal cracked in to spew tentacles and sludge. A stench thousand times worst than of death invaded the space, tiny feet clambered over and out onto her back. *Clap,* everything halted, “-go back home, will you?” the portal grew to an all-swallowing vortex. The aedric presence left for whence it came. Heavy rainfall and thunder remained as witnesses.

‘Up we go,’ they leaped towards the charged entity.

Down on one knee, “-who are you, little girl?” inquired Igna presiding over her glowing aura. Draconis maliciously snuck his face over the shoulder, “-bahh,” the jaws widened comically.

“AHHH,” cried she, “-BROTHER,” a high pitch scream nearly ruptured the eardrums, “-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE.”

“Shut up,” an instinctive grab of the mouth gave solace. Side-glancing Draconis, “-who’s she?”

“A fellow ancient demon,” replied he, “-her name’s Vane, Mistress of plague and illness. We’re not related... she chose to call me brother, I don’t know why.”

‘Lady Rouge spoke the truth, the lady of plague truly awakened. The last words bother me... why are ancient demons being revived, what’s your deal, Lucifer. Isn’t Balone enough to rule over?’

*Crunch,* blood poured, her brows smugly contoured.

“Do refrain from biting others,” returned Igna, “-promise to lower the voice.”

“Un-huh,” countless energetic nods brought a headache.

‘If she’s the same as Draconis...’

“Sorry for the outburst,” her petite self straightened, “-my name’s Vanesa, or Vane for short. My personality’s usually calm and composed,” the air felt heavy, “-the excess mana proved harder to manage,” her expression sank. Dark circles bellowed beneath her eyes. Long dark green hair messily waterfalled atop her back and shoulders, the complexion paled to a sickly sight. “-I feel much better,” the speech slowed, her darkened green eyes held not of a child’s glimmer.

“Vanesa, my name’s Igna Haggard, I’m the Baron of Glenda.”

“Good to see you,” said she as if despairing, the vigor all but vanished.

“I have a question. Are you friend or foe, lady Rouge referred to being allied to Lucifer.”

“Ohhh, I don’t c-care a-about him,” *hic,* “-who would serve a traitor anyway. B-brother, w-why a-are you h-here?”

“Oh, because lady Lilith summoned me. She’s sworn her allegiance to my pops here. ”

“The queen picked a side,” the brows feebly rose, “-I see,” *hic.* “-I guess I’ll swear to you too... pops?”

‘-Not again,’ he cowered behind an altar, ‘-I’ve got another troublemaker to content with... no use complaining.’

“Vanesa, might I ask how old you are?”

“Don’t know,” she yawned, “-maybe around eight or nine. My real age is too much to count, who cares...’ she turned to Draconis, “-brother, give me food.”

“Well,” he stood, “-Vanesa, Draconis, welcome to the Haggard Dynasty. Thou art my son and daughter, deal?”

“HELL YEAH,” exclaimed the brother, “-about time.”

“H-hell y-yeahhh,” said she monotonously, her arms gave midway up, “-I want to sleep,” the head bobbed into a deep slumber.

“Draconis, is she alright?”

“Don’t worry, Vanesa’s always lazy and sleeping.”

“I’m not sleeping,” said she, “-just resting my eyes.”

“Whatever you say.” Vanesa and Draconis claimed a shoulder as transportation. A rather comfortable piggyback ride for two, the former laid her head and slept whilst the latter peered over the shoulder with an annoying jingle; “-Linzie Borden took an ax, and gave her mother forty whacks, and when she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty-one,” and again, “Linzie Borden took an ax, and gave her mother forty whacks, and when she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty-one.”

*Ancient Magic: Teleportation.* A reckoning of a thunderstorm rampaged the area. The starved children grouped even closer. The will of God thundered; fear blinded the conscience. ‘The area’s still crawling in Aedric energy. Should be a few cursed beasts prowling about.’ Stopped before the tiny figures, “-you six,” voiced he, “-does thee wish to live?” No response came, “understood,” he kept on walking, “-children who’ve surrendered to their fate mustn’t be helped,” said he, “-being weak is not a shame, grow strong and learn to survive. Grab whatever opportunity presents itself and move.”

“M-mister,” said the oldest of the group, “-w-will w-we be sold as slaves?” he sniffled.

“No.”

“Take us with,” they flocked to his side, “-please, we’ll do anything to survive, help us.”

“I like the determination. Grab on tight,” the feeble grips told of the state, “-let’s go,”

*Ancient Magic: Teleportation.*

Inside the lobby at the secondary manor, a wandering maid caught notice and gasped, “-LORD JULIUS,” she cried, “-A MURDERER’S ON OUR DOORSTEP.”

“An enemy?” blond hair ran out the first floor, “-state thy name and business.”

“Don’t move,” ordered Malley, “-else I’ll burn thee to the... stakes? Why are we attacking again...” the paced sprint slowed to a stop. “-An attacker?” she squinted.

“Curse of forgetfulness,” yawned Vanessa sloppily conjuring ancient symbols, “-I smell fooood,” and slumped, the mind drifted to the realm of dreams.

.....

“My word cousin, is all in order?” he ran over, “-I apologize for the rather rude welcoming.”

“No time to explain. Take these children to the bath, I’ve asked for someone to bring clothes. Is the kitchen full?”

“Y-yes, I think so.”