The Wielder of Death Magic

Therein, the coming of fog meant certain death, those able of body, brave vanguard a few minutes ago, cowered on themselves. Knees shook, face paled and an entourage of trauma-inducing nature.

“RETREAT!” cried Meza, “-barrier casters, create a secondary line, we’ll guide the fight westward.”

“No can do,” fired an earnest fighter, “-I’m at my limit, most of the casters are dead or injured. The assault was well-coordinated, they took out a lifeline and are readied to pincer.”

“He’s right,” said a solemn voice, “-I’m out of ammo. Cut the losses and wait till the fight ends, this is our only hope.”

“Jonl, you serious right now?”

“Yeah, the more people die, the stronger they get. Aptha; how’s the triage?”

.....

“Bad,” she replied, “-very bad. We’re out of supplies, my abilities are strained by the mortal wounds.”

“Damn it,” he peered out the advance scout position, “-any vigilantes abled to move, head westward.” Two options presented themselves, either help the fallen or help the abled. Meza choose the former, deep inside, the thought process was biased, the truth in the vigilantes to pull through swayed the outcome. He wished wholeheartedly for their success.

“Boys, boys,” spoke the fighters, “-time to be used as bait,” they nervously laughed. Lustful glares locked onto them, “-stall for time people. The heroes are on their way, we fight till the bitter end. HEROES ARE PEOPLE WHO SACRIFICE THEMSELVES FOR OTHERS!”

“HELL YEAH!” the last battle cry. Down in their hearts, despite the adrenaline, the sad reality of worthlessness and weakness veered its ugly face.

The horde, compromised of skeletons and turned Sultrians, split for east and west. The monsters of the air swooped and killed the rangers, Meza’s map blinked red each time a fighter died. Sweat and fear plastered on his face, the makeshift medic camp cried in horror.

“They come...” said a guard, “-we’re doomed.”

“What?” quick to check on he who spoke, *slash,* blood dowsed the floor and walls red, ‘-no,’ her heart dropped, ‘- don’t tell me...’ the body fell, her eyes wandered outside onto the coming fog, ‘-they’re here...’

“éclair, infiltrate the channel.”

“As wished.”

Between the bait and hardworking camp, the prior death-filled street cleared, “-Hello, is this working?”

“Who is it?” returned Meza.

“Listen well. Rangers and survivors make their way to the camp. Healers focus on those who can still fight, have the spellcasters in somewhat fightable shape, cast barriers. Two factors are needed to win this battle, first, the rescue of the fighters, second, we destroy the enemy.”

“Destroy the enemy?” inquired Jonl.

“Watch and learn, fellow comrade of Hidros. This is how a true adventurer fights.” A nonchalant presence landed, the horde momentarily halted and glared. Meza, far away, snuck a glimpse as did Jonl.

‘The bait’s not doing their job,’ he scanned, ‘-well, here I go,’ he leaned, picked up a long sword, and a few pebbles. Two steps forth, the pebbles flew past the monsters and nicked the fearful vigilantes. The fresh scent of blood drew the attention of all, those headed for the camp turned and growled. ‘According to plan,’ he stood in the middle, the horde itched to pounce, ‘-they’re being controlled by others, must be the fog. This is most likely a premature attack, I’d hope, who am I to guess what monsters are thinking.’ Firm into the fighting stance, ‘-let’s go old-school,’ each step resounded, the speed wasn’t impressive nor did it speak of power, instead, each time the soles made contact, a blackish mist remained on the floor. *GRRR,* ‘-finally, here they come.’ Every beast in the vicinity went for him, ‘-dark mana, I knew they’d be enticed.’

Faster monster leaped with rudimentary weapons, scratches, and bites; a fighting style not viewed as favorable. ‘Barbaric,’ he stood firm without a single gesture, *-Spatial-Arts: Killzone,* a semitransparent drop of nothingness made contact and conjured a sphere, the radius stretched millimeters beyond the sword’s reach. Claws first and head later, it crossed the barrier and death. A slow and rhythmic slash set the pace, hesitance shook the common consciousness, ‘-come on, leader, show your face.’ *click, click, click,* chanted an otherworldly creature.

The aura changed, the vacant glances filled in ire and lust, the horde leaped. On the outside, nothing differed, however, the Killzone allowed time to move per his will, thus, the more jumped, the faster he got. The seemingly weak and gentle strokes hastened, the posture firmed, one by one, the monsters fell.

“Meza, someone’s on the battlefield, what should we do?”

“Didn’t he give orders earlier? Focus on the camp.”

A silver of hope showed itself amidst the carnage, the bait crawled to the camp, projectile weapons drew onto the stray enemies. The focus on a single man gave leeway to strategies. ‘Where’s the AHA?’ gritted Meza.

A shock of condensed energy halted the slaughter, ‘-here come new orders.’ The puppets halted and faced the camp, they split, the stronger headed for the sole-support line.

‘Good strategy,’ he smirked, *Go forth, Vengeance, slay all those who dare stand in our way!* a swipe to the camp spawned a vicious tempest of flames, the streets carved behind the immense pressure, stray wanderers on the way charred instantly. A figure stood behind a mountain of flames.

Meanwhile, inwards of the town, emergency messages hit every response unit. The blocked path didn’t allow for backup to arrive. Never mind the heroes who were stuck in an attack to the east, pressure arose from the toppled building. ‘What are the heroes doing?’ slightly glowing light-grey hair hovered onto the scene, the eyes lit vividly to match the purity of white, the hair swayed harshly at the increase of power, ‘-simple,’ the bottleneck cleared in seconds.

“My lady!” cried a few stray construction workers, “-thank you for the assistance.”

“No worries, how’s the status of the invasion?”

“Last report states casualties in the hundreds of deaths.”

“I go away on a trip and this is the result.” *Woosh.*

Ambulance sirens fought their way to the incident area.

“Who was that?” inquired a bystander.

“A very strong person,” replied the worker, “-her exploits are heard all over the continent. She’s the sole reason the monsters haven’t been able to break through Whuotan.”

Debris and empty streets told a different story, the lady landed amid a concluded battle. An unhinged sword, bloodied at the handle, stood on high above a mountain of bodies. ‘Is the battle over?’

“Alright, take him to the back, he should be fine,” the camp somewhat smoothed.

“I have great news,” said Meza, “-ambulances are on their way. They’ll take those who aren’t afflicted by the curse.”

“What of them,” the mask lowered.

“We don’t have the means to heal them as of yet.”

“I see,” he exhaled, ‘-by the lowered tone, they’ll be left to die.’

“What should I do about him?” inquired Aptha.

“The injuries aren’t bad; a healing potion should do the trick.”

“Alright.”

“EMERGENCY!” cried a squad, “-we found a survivor, the pulse is barely present.”

‘Yeah, he’s not long for the world, the injuries are grave.’

“PLEASE!” begged a lady, “-save my fiancé.”

‘Lovers...’ a brief scan, “-take him to the second room.” From battle to now first-aid, treatment of the fallen was a priority. A strong personage entered the camp, the sight of relief blew the wilds, ‘-I thought the situation to be worse...’ the few steps arrived at the segregation of wounded. Those able to move helped in administering potions to the heavily wounded. The abundance of supplies was brought by a single man.

“How’s the outside?” inquired Meza.

“The wave’s backed off, I don’t see them returning.”

“Meza,” the conversation broke, “-might you explain what has happened here?”

“Highness,” they bowed, “-we were saved by a stranger.”

“Excuse me?”

“Allow me to explain,” a glance to the hall showed the man in question,”-let’s move to a more secluded area.” To which, Jonl excused himself in favor of aiding the patients.

A roofless apartment gave a decent view, “-Not much of a change,” she commented as the camp was little more than a stone’s throw away, “-tell me what happened?” A passing breeze enhanced her features.

“We were saved by a stranger, he’s yet to tell us his name. Yet, I feel much power inside. Where the most competent of our vigilantes fell by the tenacity of the monsters, he single-handedly took on a horde of at least two hundred. Believe me, when I say, the way he fought felt careless and tiresome, it felt more of a hassle to him, like, what a waste of time, kind of feel.”

“And, should I be impressed?”

“No, not at all. I’m just giving my report. After an anti-climactic conclusion, he took to the medical camp, dawned a medical mask, and began to fight.”

In before their eyes, time sped, ambulances arrived in full. The injured were taken for further treatment, those afflicted by the curse were transported in a less visually pleasing truck, destination, Q-zone. An otherwise lost battle held firm on a single strand of hope. The evening arrived, members of the AHA and fresh vigilantes mounted a stern defense. Another wall was built by the useless debris.

‘I’m done,’ fatigue gave to a harsh screech, ‘-unusable chair,’ the breathing relaxed. ‘Treating people is harder than killing them, who would have thought. She’s something else,’ he narrowed outside, ‘-I recognize her from somewhere, but where? The abilities are far stronger than I ever imagined.’

“Master, are thee well?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What of the quest?”

“No deal, the government’s funding most of the companies. We either wait for a deal or start a new one.”

“A new one,” he leaned into the chair, “-sounds rough, I don’t want to be involved.”

“Master, you’re very entertaining. We could use the route of puppetry and gain what is wished.”

“Or, look for a foreign company. Let’s sit on it for a while, there’s no way the monsters are being evicted so easily.”

“Why?”

“They’re strong. Every time a Sultrian is turned, the collective consciousness assimilates the battle experience and abilities. Have to hand it to the ruler of the underworld, he knows how to gain experience no matter the situation.”

Footsteps interrupted the conversation, “-what’s your name?” said a shadowy figure.

“And who are you?” he glared.

“None of your business. Tell me the name right away.”

“Oh please,” he stood, “-a pretty face without the personality to match, how convenient. I’m sure you’re very amicable,” the height difference garnered a frown.

“I haven’t come to make friends,” a stern step forth, “-who in the hell are you?”

He smirked, “-much attitude from one who has to tiptoe to make her voice heard, I apologize, thy words don’t reach. Maybe come back when thee hath grown.”

“Insolent bastard!” her hair levitated, the room trembled, stray rocks circled menacingly, “-take back thy words.”

“No can do.”

“I warned you,” the expression dulled, “-die.”

.....

*Woosh,* “-was I supposed to be scared?” he sidestepped, “-the rocks are far too slow to do any damage,” the projectiles kept on the pressure, “-I’d like to stay and chat,” at the entrance, “-sadly, I don’t personally enjoy the company of smug brats. I hope we never meet again.”

‘-Little,’ the rocks halted, ‘-he’s gone...’

“Highness, is everything ok?” panted Meza, “-I heard the commotion.”

“Yeah, everything is fine,” the girted teeth and clenched palms said otherwise.

‘Hades’ firm on the invasion. The same strategy employed by Scifer. The brief visit opened my eyes, the AHA is incompetent. The heroes are slack and unnervingly annoying. Vigilantes do the work, and they take the credit. The media has heavily twisted the story. Not that it matters, I’ve gotten a fragment of the curse.’