The Seventh Spirit

by Adam-Clay Webb

  “Something’s not right…”

  “What’s the matter now?!”

  “… Trium is already here.”

  “I know! We have no time to lose then! What’s the matter? Is it my friends?! Clover? Zen? Kyle? Star?” he asked in a tizzy.

  “Quiet!” Maximo snapped. A stern look of concentration and deep focus was on the demon’s face. “This is impossible…”

  “What is?!” Lex blasted, shaking Maximo.

  Maximo stepped back a bit, looking like he was working out a complex paradox or impossible equation in his head. “Scattered throughout all the earth is a great portion of Trium’s power – he is divided into millions, and is using humans to host his power and do his bidding.”

  “What?! If that’s the case, then people are uncontrollably killing one another!”

  “That’s his plan,” Maximo surmised, “the population of the world might be cut down by a third, maybe even a half already.”

  Lex’s eyes widened and his face grew pale. “Unforgivable!” the tight-fisted boy bristled.

  “Listen!” Maximo continued, “As I said, only a portion of Trium’s power is on the earth. The rest of it, maybe a third, two fifths at most, is contained right where we are…”

  “What? But how?”

  Maximo closed his eyes for a moment, deep in concentration. “As we speak, the amount of Trium’s power that is about the earth is slowly and steadily decreasing, along with the earth’s population, and the amount of power that is contained is increasing at the same rate.”

  “The vial!”

  “Yes. Only it can contain such a power,” Maximo confirmed.

  “So when defeated, Trium’s spirits go straight into the vial then!”

  “That’s right… Brilliant!”

  “Heh, that’s--”

  “Not you, idiot! Prince Azar!”

  “Huh?!”

  “It must be his doing! With Trium’s plan, humans would kill each other off until no one was left on the earth, as his dark power would constantly recycle. It seems Azar has used some primordial technique to trap suspended dark matter.”

  “Sus—What?!”

  “So when one of the spirits is defeated, instead of finding another host, it is trapped in the vials that kept me for thousands of years.”

  “I see… But how will we defeat Trium if he’s split up into millions of spirits?!”

  “I’m afraid there’s an even graver matter than that…” Maximo looked worried afresh. “I don’t know how, but I feel a second mass of energy approaching the earth…”

  “What?! What could that be?”

  “The chilling thing is… the amount of dark matter scattered about the globe added the energy trapped in the vials is equal to this mass of approaching power.”

  “A power equal to Trium?!”

  “Correct… I am forced to wonder if this force might be.”

  “But wasn’t Trinity destroyed by Trium a long time ago?”

  “Well that’s suddenly brought into question… And if this is Trinity… has he joined Trium or is he coming to battle against him again? Should Trinity somehow still exist and come to fight Trium, things would be much brighter, and the remaining population could be saved almost easily… though a battle of such scale would probably obliterate the planet.”

  “But what if Trinity is with Trium?”

  “And what if this energy is not Trinity?”

  “What being could be so powerful that it matches Trium’s might?” Lex wondered in worry and grave fear.

  “In any event, we have much work to do,” Maximo said. “I’ll have to stay here and rest for a while. I’ll pitch in as soon as I can.”

  “What?! Hey, I’m tired too you know!”

  With that, the inner realm vanished from around Lex.

  The darkness finally disappeared from his eyes. He got up quickly, holding his head and looking about in confusion. “Where—”

  “Lex!” Zen’s sweet voice greeted. The girl got up and hugged him tightly.

  “So you finally wake!” Marco greeted. Letting go of Zen, Lex turned to the USG, recognizing him instantly.

  “To capture me in a time like this!”

  “No!” The man held a hand out to Lex quickly. Ice energy was already prepared in both of Lex’s palms. “I’m only guarding you! By order of the prince!” Marco clarified.

  “Huh? … And who are they?” he asked. His eyes flashed darkly as he took note of the vial. “I see… But I can’t spare another two hours fighting inside myself… And Max is far too weak to defeat any enemy of substance right now,” he considered.

  ***

  The first daughter of the Leaf Sage fought valiantly, being, excepting her father, the world’s most powerful Vinebender. With rapidity and deadly precision, the siblings commanded vines, even grass from below to kill their enemies by the second. As they executed, more flew down from above.

  “It seems there is no number to these beasts,” Eden considered. “Heh! Guess I’ll just have to keep fighting forever then.” He crouched quickly, sinking his palms into the ground. “Forest Art! Ultimate Attack! Plant Army!” Veins stood up on the old man’s face and on his hands and feet as he spoke into being his most powerful attack. Giant trees, clothed with razor-sharp leaves and poisonous vines, emerged from beneath the ground in their hundreds, forming a small and deadly forest instantly. Eden closed his eyes, beginning to simultaneously command and wield the power of every tree, every vine, every leaf that he had brought forth. The black-eyed enemies on the ground, even in the air, found themselves at the wrong place at the right time, battling a man to whom numbers meant nothing.

  ***

  “Hmmm… The present Leaf Sage is quite impressive, using that attack… Heh… I wish he could have seen my son, the true Leaf Sage, use that attack at full strength… This current Sage is strong though… probably even at a tenth of my son’s power... Anyway… Oga, this is how you will distribute the second wave – send a third to the magic capital in a single unit. While the commoners are busy with the remnants of the first wave, this force will tackle the most powerful of their sorcerers, and your own legacy, the Ogal Council. Of the other two, send one to the Leaf Sage – he will soon be done with the few thousand weaklings I sent his way, and his team has not yet taken a single casualty. The third third, send it after the boy with the seventh spirit. Those two should make an interesting matchup.”

  “Yes My Lord,” Oga answered, sighing under his breath.

  ***

  Lex stepped out into the newly-made forest of death. His eyes widened and he shivered a little as he beheld the incredible battle. Leaves and grass and vines and wood were wielded by the powerful Vinebenders to fight the numerous enemies. One of the dark beasts jetted off toward Lex instantly. The boy turned to it quickly, immediately summoning up lots of ice energy in his left hand. The host of a drop of Trium’s power slammed a shadowball at Lex, who naturally countered it with his sphere of ice. Somehow, his ice overcame the enemy’s darkness, freezing up the shadowball, and a second later, its wielder. That’s right. Since Trium’s power is so greatly divided, each host is fairly weak.

  “Icemaker! You’re awake!” the Leaf Sage greeted, strangling and boring up tens of enemies without paying attention to them.

  “Sage!” He bowed slightly, his confusion somewhat healed. Lex looked up at the skies, frightened at the hundreds of demons descending. The earth cracked and shook with each forceful descent.

  “So more forces are coming still,” the sage muttered to himself. He could no longer marginalize in his mind the fact that he couldn’t continue to fight much longer, as he was constantly being forced to use high-level techniques to cater to the great numbers, draining his energy faster than nature could replenish it.

  ***

  Abora lunged over, almost toppling. As he had instructed, all his villagers were safely hiding in a large underground safe-house he himself had built. Sweat washed him. He panted heavily. Blood drained fr
om his mouth, from all over him. Scattered about him were hundreds of dead enemies, which he had singlehandedly taken down. Still, tens more stood about him. He looked up.

  ***

  “I am afraid this is the end of you, Earthshifter,” Kizer muttered, sounding rather regretful, a solemn look on his face. “The last relic of another of my races sinks into the earth…”

  ***

  “Please, Lex… save the world… My people… I’m sorry…” With a final burst of strength and a quaking roar, the Earthshifter slammed his hands down on the ground, causing a massive earthquake, one that the continent, much less this village, had never seen. Still, he was careful not to damage his people or their place of safety. Rocks rose up out of the ground for miles about, breaking apart. Long, sharp, thin spikes were carved from the stones, and they sped up towards the sky at the still descending black rain with great killing power. With hellish cries, the beasts on the ground took off toward the drained Earthshifter, who had given his village everything he had.

  ***

  The battle at the Zakatian shrine grew darker and redder every minute. A mere handful of Blade’s allies were still alive, and the number of standing enemies remained unchanged, though their body count grew with each thrust of a sword and pull of a bow. Blade and Azar, the strongest men in the village, ended up being back-to-back. A circle of enemies was about them, each quite menacing with shadowballs prepared to finish their duty.

  “There’s no end to this,” Blade panted, sounding like he had lost all hope. “I thought, somehow, that this wretched sword would give me the power to save my people… Still down on mana, princess?”

  “Even the fancy flames on my swords are burnt out… I might just have enough for one more shift.”

  “… I wouldn’t hold it against you if you left now… It’s crystal clear how this battle will end…”

  “Well come then… Call this village a loss… There is no way to save it.”

  ***

  “Oga, continue suspending the attack on the prince and the Zakatian. I want to see what they’re up to.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Oga replied, sounding a bit annoyed.

  ***

  Suddenly, Azar’s mind snapped and flashed to a little time before…

  *

  “Please!” the old man begged, forcing his head through the bars, his hands tied with special rope. “Don’t leave me behind! I can help!” Azar glanced back at him. Just before him were the eight he had just handpicked and released and were leaving with.

  “I just checked your mana level. You’re useless, old man, and your crimes are the worst in this prison. You’ll only be more trouble, even in a time like this!”

  “No! Listen, my prince!” the man begged desperately.

  “Come,” Azar told the eight, and continued to walk with them.

  “I have a power that can save the world! “

  Azar hissed, leaving him behind.

  *

  That senile old criminal… Azar pondered, Why do your foolish words still haunt me? Is there any chance at all he might have some rare and convenient power?... And remain imprisoned for so long? This makes no sense, yet my spirit is begging me… The prince sighed in decision. “Survive until I return,” he said, then vanished in a cloud of mana.

  “Goodbye, Azar,” Blade muttered, a sombre look on his face.

  ***

  “So he did run away,” Kizer said to himself. “It seems the Zakatian pride and honour wouldn’t allow the other to leave though it’s the only logical option… Quite interesting. People like him are still around after so long… Oga, continue the attack!”

  ***

  Azar appeared before the old man’s cell with his last portion of mana. The impatient prince banged against the bars in annoyance, waking and frightening the man. Prison seems to be the safest place now for a man to be asleep soundly in here. His banging woke the frightened man. The heavily-bearded man jumped up suddenly, then noticing the prince, began laughing hysterically. “Waste my time and I’ll kill you, old man!” Azar blasted.

  “Why did you come here?”

  “Are you joking?! You told me you have some unusual power! Is that in any way--”

  “Oh, very true, my Lord!” the man assured, sounding like he had just remembered about that. “If you could only release me, I could--”

  “Any sly moves and you’re dead ten times over!” Azar held up one of his swords. The man laughed again, totally ignoring Azar’s seriousness. “Come here, you fool!” Azar called, “I’ll cut the ropes!” The man quickly ran up to the bars and turned his back, still chuckling quite loudly. A foul and pungent scent came from him, which further irritated Azar to the point of almost killing him then and there. Azar swung down his sword fiercely, almost cutting off the man’s hands. The laughter of the man got out of control. He ran around the cell, his hands in the air. “Hey, you old man, I’ll kill--”

  Azar nearly got a heart attack as he stared at the cloud of purple mana left behind by the man’s disappearance. Sixth grade mana?! Then why the hell couldn’t I sense it?! This man wields such techniques to hide his mana even from a wizard like me?!

  The man appeared behind Azar. “Sure you can!” he mocked. Azar turned and grabbed the man’s neck quickly, stopping his breath to avoid smelling him. “Alright, alright! Take it easy, my Lord!” the old man pled, but still in an annoyingly trivial tone.

  “So you’re a rarely powerful wizard! I take it this is the power you spoke of.”

  “Oh, no, no, no, no, my Lord! I have a special potion!”

  “Don’t play with me, you senile old shitstain!” the furious Azar blasted, swinging at the man’s head. As Azar had expected, the man spaceshifted.

  “Just listen, young lord!” the man’s voice came from behind the prince. Azar spun again in great irritation. Looking only a bit more serious, the man walked up to the prince. “Come with me,” the man said, and put his hand on Azar’s shoulder.

  ***

  “Abingush!” Clover blasted away another of the enemies with the last of her mana. Their backs touching, the exhausted witches struggled to keep standing in the forest. The enemies’ numbers dwindled, but the fight was certainly not one-sided in their favour; more Vinebenders were dead than alive on the battle scene. After doing all they could and draining all their mana, the witches had now become liabilities. Kyle and Karukia stood guard of Star and Clover, as they were weak and could no longer help themselves.

  ***

  Azar and the old convict appeared in a smelly, dilapidated house that seemed to be no less than a hundred years old.

  “Where is this place?”

  “Home sweet home!” The man twirled frenziedly, grinning, taking in deeply the stiflingly stink and musty air.

  “Idiot!” Azar raged, swinging at the man again. “Find me this item of power you speak of, or I will kill you where you stand!”

  The old wizard laughed. “Oh relax, young prince! All will be well!” He sounded and looked tipsy. “Come with me!” The man led Azar to a room that seemed to be the gathering place of rodents and spiders.

  “Now hurry!” Azar rushed, gripping his sword tightly. The old man quickly found a small chest of drawers, opened one of them and took from it a black and blue chest. He put it down on the bed, stirring up a cloud of dust. He rested his hand on the chest and it glowed with purple mana, then clicked open. A silent spell? How is this damn madman so adept? Fanning the scattering dust from his face, the prince stepped toward the bed, getting a good view of the rusty metal flask that the man had taken out, covered in thick, age-old dust. It was a bottle people in his grandparents’ day would use to carry expensive liquor in. “What is this?!” Azar blasted, pushing the man aside and grabbing up the container and shaking it. It was almost brimmed. He popped it open and sniffed it. “What is it?!” Azar asked again, not recognizing the scent.

  “When I was a youth, my father, who was a more powerful wizard than I now am, so powerful that he even served
for a while on the council of the greatest--”

  “What of him?!”

  “He had served in a war in Notherland and was reported to be killed. They brought his body home to me in this very room here! Days later, as I was planning the burial he woke up! The most frightening thing! He told me that he had fought his way back to life, and took back a potion that he said would give any sorcerer the power of Oga! He told me never to use it unless it was absolutely--”

  “It must be that strange water!” Azar realized, staring down at the flask. “The power of Oga… That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but if this is what I suspect it is, it can be quite the lifesaver! Old man, shift me to Zakashi Village, and fast!”

  ***

  One of the inhumanly strong possessed swordsmen blasted Blade’s weapon from his hand. The exhausted Blade glanced around, soaked in sweat and blood. He was the last Zakatian left standing whose eyes were not black, and the enemies were still many. Looks like it’s over… He clenched his fists still. I must kill even one more.

  “Edanerg Elit!” a command rang out. Blade slammed his eyes shut as there was a blinding light.

  ***

  “Oga, send reinforcements to Zakashi Village,” Kizer commanded, a slight smirk on his face.

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  ***

  As the bright light cleared, Blade noticed that two men were standing with him, along with a sickeningly foul scent that competed even with the scent of pools of raw blood and crushed flesh.

  “Azar!” Blade greeted, sounding relieved. “Who’s—”

  “Forget that. Take a sip of this.” Azar put the bottle to Blade’s mouth and poured a little in. The confused Blade drank less than a mouthful of the insipid liquid. His eyes bulged and veins stood up all over his body. The energy that his body then possessed emitted a nearly visible aura. Azar smirked, seeing and understanding the change that occurred. Must be the real deal then. It seems fermentation has made it even much stronger than it was in that dimension.

  “This energy!” Blade cried out, unable to contain himself, fidgeting wildly.