by Brandon Chen
“No,” Yuu said, turning his head to Cambyses’s final Magus. The mage was slowly pushing himself to his feet after waking up. He seemed quite groggy and dazed, for he swayed slightly but Yuu knew the man could still fight. That was how Magi were. He extended his hand to the Persian Magus and watched as the man solidified into a giant block of gleaming ice. Yuu closed his hand into a tight fist and the statue suddenly detonated, sending shards of shattered ice clattering to the ground in a heap. “Killing you is far too easy.”
***
Kira staggered forward with Fang padding by her side, snarling at the dozens of battling soldiers that filled the streets of Persepolis. But the female mage was leaning against Fang’s furry body, preventing the hound from lashing out and brutally massacring the Persian warriors.
Kira’s head was pounding but she trudged onward anyways, making her way through the side streets of the city to try and avoid the main roads where a majority of the chaos took place. She dug her staff into the ground and used it as a walking-cane as she neared Cassim’s home. But as she turned the corner of the home she found a Persian man jamming a broadsword through Ramses’ wife. The mage’s eyes widened and her lips quivered as a mist of blood sprayed into the air and onto the face of young Riza.
The little boy screamed, every inch of his face drenched in his mother’s blood. Tears mixed with the crimson liquid as he collapsed to his knees, falling alongside his mother. He clutched at her bloodstained attire, squeezing the cloth tightly between his small fists.
Kira gripped her wooden staff tightly and was about to rush forward to the boy’s aid when suddenly two warriors leapt in front of her, blocking her from reaching Riza’s side. She swung her staff forward, a burning sensation searing through her wrists as she attempted to let magic flow through her weapon. But to no avail. There was a sizzle and nothing happened. The mage’s eyes widened with disbelief as she stared at her trembling hands. I’m out of juice already? N-no…! This can’t be happening! Riza and Cassim need me right now! Damn it, come o—
A club smashed into her cheek, sending Kira spinning abruptly through the air. The Magus crashed onto her side, warm blood beginning to seep onto her tongue. Her head felt like a bomb had detonated inside, jumbling up all her thoughts. She tried to move but her hands only twitched as she lay on her side, staring blankly at the dirt. The ground was shifting before her blurry eyes and the corners of her vision were blacked out. Am I going to pass out? Now of all times? Please … get up!
Fang roared and pounced forward, rending the two soldiers in half with a single swipe of his claws. The deformed bodies of the Persians crumpled to the ground and the beast slowly began to nudge Kira’s unmoving body.
Riza was screaming but soon his voice became muffled until there was silence.
“S-Stop! Don’t you touch her, you damned bastards! She’s a Persian, I’m telling you!” Cassim’s voice yelled.
“Hiding criminals doesn’t make you a Persian, scum!”
Kira pressed her palms to the dirt, shakily pushing herself onto her knees. Her head turned and she found herself watching as two Persian soldiers rammed Cassim’s grandmother through with blades just as they had Ramses’ wife. The elderly woman died instantly and collapsed to the ground beside Riza and Ramses’ wife. Both were also deceased. Kira tried to push herself onto her feet but her arms trembled, still not fully responding. Move…!
“You damned barbaric monsters!” Cassim howled, frantically snatching his pitchfork off the ground. He jammed the metallic prongs of his weapon straight into a Persian soldier’s chest, driving one of his grandmother’s murderers into the ground. “How dare you?” he boomed, tears streaking down his cheeks. “S-She … she never did anything wrong….”
Kira bit her lower lip, shaking her head as she reached out and grabbed her wooden staff from the ground at her side. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Fang was protecting her from dozens of other soldiers that were rushing forward to try and finish off the Luxas Magus. She squeezed her staff until her knuckles blanched. You’re right, Cassim. She was innocent … and so were many people who died today.
“How could you bring yourself to kill someone who’s defenseless like that?” Cassim roared, rage conquering his mind. He stabbed downward once more into the corpse of the Persian soldier, drawing more blood into the air as he entered a frenzy. “How can you live with yourse—” His words were choked off as a second Persian soldier slashed his throat with a fluent cut. The farmer stared at his murderer for a long moment before collapsing onto his back, grasping at his hemorrhaging neck.
Kira began to sob, her hands shaking as she pointed her staff straight at the lone Persian soldier, who stood right in front of Cassim’s small house. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that this happened. Kira’s gaze suddenly blazed with determination, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. The world is just cruel.
Adrenaline burst through her veins. The mage let out a shrill yell as electricity exploded from the end of her staff, scintillating forward and smashing straight into Cassim’s house. The energy swallowed the Persian soldier, releasing tendrils of snapping energy extending in all directions. The house groaned as it burst into flames, collapsing several seconds later. The Persian warrior that had slain Cassim and his grandmother was now lying on the ground, his flesh crisped black.
Kira panted, slowly lowering her staff. She felt sapped of energy, as if everything had been drained out of her in that last magical release. Her eyes gazed over the corpses of Ramses’ family and then upon Cassim’s. The Magus weakly pressed her staff into the ground, gripping the wood with both hands, easing herself to her feet.
Fang was gnawing on the body of one of the Persian soldiers that had attempted to flank Kira. The beast tossed the corpse away and rushed over to Kira’s side, whimpering at the sight of the feeble mage.
“I’m alright,” Kira assured Fang as she slumped her body over the gigantic hound. The soft fur felt like a pillow and she closed her eyes with a deep sigh, wiping the moisture from her eyes. “There’s nothing more we can do here. Can you take me back to Aleysha?”
Fang nodded, looking at Kira with his big gleaming eyes. The Guardian turned to see that a squadron of Persian warriors was advancing on their position from the main road. The hound barked and burst forward, sprinting through the side streets of Persepolis back in the direction of Aleysha.
***
King Alkaios charged through the thick mist of blood that plagued the battlefield of Persepolis’s streets, drenching himself with the crimson liquid. The lord swung his broadsword left and right, rapidly dispatching Persian warriors all around him. The incursion was going as planned. The Persian Magi were difficult to deal with but the great force of the United Eastern Nations easily overwhelmed them. The only real problem now was pushing through the waves of Persians that kept flooding through the streets.
Every time Alkaios cut down a Persian soldier, two rushed forward to claim their fallen comrade’s place. It was a never-ending cycle. The United Eastern Nations still hadn’t even forced their way through the eastern quarter of Persepolis yet. Then there was the issue of Ahriman.
Alkaios didn’t even want to think of facing such a formidable foe. After witnessing the destruction of that random village, the king knew that Ahriman was an enemy that could only be defeated by another god. But would Ares prevail?
Warriors plowed into Alkaios and the king frowned, realizing that there were too many enemies for him to deal with. He glanced around him, searching desperately for reinforcements. The comrades that had been fighting beside him only moments before were now lying dead on the ground. Even his Head General was sprawled across the ground with the shaft of a spear protruding from his bloodied chest.
Alkaios blanched when suddenly he felt a thump on his body. A chilling sensation swept over him and he glanced down to see that there was a bloodstained blade poking out of his chest, straight through his mail armor. He winced, sputtering warm blood onto his chin as th
e weapon was torn from his body. The king collapsed onto his knees, pain detonating in his body. Hope faded from the lord’s eyes as he groaned and fell forward, smacking his face hard against the dirt ground.
How could Ares prevail? The army of the United Eastern Nations is falling beneath the stampede of Persia’s endless ranks and such a young, inexperienced god can’t possibly match Ahriman’s immeasurable strength. To win this battle, we need more than just luck. We need a miracle.
***
Ahriman watched as the black cloud of mist disappeared around Ares, smiling sadistically. After using his illusionary magic, the young god should’ve lived through an unforgettable nightmare. But suddenly the ground around Ares began to rumble, and the wind began to churn as if there was a hurricane swirling right where the god of war stood. Ahriman’s eyebrows rose slowly in puzzlement and he retreated a step as he felt a dramatic increase in the level of power that Ares wielded. The aura that he felt in the air was filled with murderous intent, something he had never expected from the young boy. Ahriman clutched his scepter tightly with his clammy hands, his stringy hair blowing about in the blistering wind. He recognized this ominous aura. It was the same one that Ares had released when he had lost control of himself at the Battle of Yuusus. The old Ares has awakened once more.
The tip of Ahriman’s scepter began to glow an ominous purple color. Seven surges of black flame howled to life before the god of darkness, revealing seven demons that rose from the dark fires. Their skin was a hellish red and ebony horns protruded from the top of their heads, each curving to create an arc. “Awaken, arch demons of my Daeva! Aesma Daeva, Aka Manah, Indra, Nanghaithya, Saurva, Tawrich, and Zarich! Come, protect your master!”
The demons grinned wickedly and took formation in front of Ahriman, eying their new enemy curiously. The Guardians each produced a different weapon, spanning from daggers to tridents to spears and much more.
Ares opened his eyes, revealing that his irises were a gleaming orange color. A satisfied smile stretched across his lips and he burst out laughing. “Man, it’s good to be back! And a fresh body too. How perfect, the power of youth never ceases to amaze me!” The god of war turned to face the demons that stood before him, taking a whiff of the air. His nose twitched and the smile vanished from his face. “I remember that stench. You needed to summon your lackeys to fight me in your stead, Ahriman? Do you honestly think that you can hold me back with weaklings like that?”
One of the demons gnarred, baring its sharp fangs, as he scampered forward on all fours with a gleaming sword clutched in one of his hands. He approached Ares and slid across the dirt, clutching the hilt of his weapon with both of his hands, tearing the weapon through the air towards the god’s throat with a yelping cry.
Ares yawned, not even bothering to react to the attack. The Daeva laughed sadistically as he slashed the god’s throat. The demon expected the blade to sink straight into the boy’s throat, but instead the weapon shattered on impact, sending pieces of metal thumping to the ground. The arch demon stared in disbelief at Ares. Ahriman’s hands trembled. How is his skin so hard?
“That tickles.” Ares swatted the demon across the face with the back of his hand. The creature’s entire head snapped around with a sickening crack. The Daeva instantly collapsed in a heap. “The last time we faced each other, Persian god, you killed me. I believe it’s my turn to pay you back in full, don’t you think?”
“Aesma!” one of the demons cried out.
“You’ll pay for this, God of War!” another snarled.
All of the Daevas suddenly sprinted forward, rushing directly at Ares in frenzy, their eyes crazed with their thirst for vengeance.
Ares scoffed, irritated that Ahriman’s Guardians were still fighting the battle for him. “Get these demons out of my face.” Ancient markings began to appear on his skin, crawling around the god of war’s body until he was covered in the black tattoos. He snapped his fingers and, without warning, a thousand arrows were pumped straight into the Guardians’ bodies, making them look like prickly porcupines. The earth was blanketed in iron arrows, the tips buried deep into the dirt.
Ahriman’s heart leapt to his throat and he glanced upward, spotting two identical female archers with flowing brunette hair, standing on the rooftops of the castle beside Ares. They had golden bows in their hands and quivers filled with an endless supply of arrows. Those are Ares’ Guardians … twin archers!
“That should even the playing field,” Ares said, waving to his Guardians. “Don’t worry, you needn’t interfere in this quarrel.” He clapped his hands twice and suddenly the ground behind him exploded. Entire racks filled with thousands of different gleaming armors and weapons burst from the earth behind the god, filling the area with a cloud of swirling dust. Ares extended his hands outwards, showing off his collection. “This is my armory. Since this is the last battle you’ll ever have, Persian god of darkness, I’ll give you the luxury of choosing which weapon I get to kill you with.”
Warlord of Terrador
Ahriman gritted his teeth, facing the ancient Hellas god of war. Such incredible power, he was being humiliated! Mithra was nothing in comparison to this god. The original Ares must’ve had an unmatched amount of battle experience. He clutched his scepter tightly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He would have to tread carefully and look for Ares’ weak points. Summoning more Guardians to his aid would do nothing. Those twin archers that Ares had called upon seemed to be able to unleash thousands of arrows in a single instant. There was no telling what other Guardians the god of war might have hidden as well.
“No preference?” Ares smirked and shrugged. He reached out and a gigantic hammer the size of his entire body flew straight into his hand. There were two runes that were embedded into both sides of the hammer. The infused stones glowed like sapphires. The weapon weighed over ten tons but the god wielded the weapon as if it were as light as a feather. “I might switch around, who knows. Sometimes I get bored if I use the same weapon for too long.”
Ahriman grunted as the god of war burst forward, sprinting with blinding speed straight for him. He swept his hand outward, creating a wall of black magic that exploded from the ground. But the barrier did not halt the god’s charge, for Ares simply leapt into the air, jumping a hundred meters over the magic wall. Ahriman kicked off of the ground, retreating backward as Ares descended upon him.
Ares smashed his hammer hard into the ground, shattering the earth with his omnipotent strength. The castle groaned as it was blown away, the debris raining around him. Dirt sprayed everywhere as the entire noble district was leveled out to nothing; every structure in sight was reduced to rubble. A whirlwind of dust swept around the area and Ahriman stared in shock at Ares’ frightening power. A single downward swing of his hammer was enough to destroy everything in a mile radius. The grass, which had once been lush and freshly cut, was now burned to a crisp from the shockwave that had pulsed outward from Ares’ strike.
The god of war stood in a deep crater, slowly heaving his hammer over his shoulder as he looked up at Ahriman, quite disappointed that he had missed. Ares turned to see Mithra still unconscious several hundred meters away. Some debris had fallen on top of him but that definitely wasn’t enough to hurt a god. “You know, Darien had one final wish before he passed control to me,” Ares called up to Ahriman, squinting as the sunlight shined on his face. “He wanted me to kill you more than anything.”
Ahriman said nothing, his face deprived of emotion.
“If I were him, I would want the same thing,” Ares said with a hearty laugh. “Oh well, he isn’t going to be around anymore so don’t get your hopes up that I’ll revert back to that weakling. He doesn’t know how to use my strength. He constantly holds back because he’s afraid that he’ll hurt the people around him. You might be wondering how I’m so much stronger than him. I’m really not, we have the same powers. It’s just that I don’t give a crap about mortals,” Ares suddenly teleported in the air, appearing right
next to Ahriman. “And that makes all the difference.”
Ahriman didn’t have any time to react before Ares swatted him straight out of the sky with his legendary hammer. The Persian god gasped, unexplainable pain detonating through his chest as he smashed into the lower city, crashing through entire rows of buildings. Structures of wood, stone, mud, marble, and steel all collapsed around him as he tumbled across the earth. Darien was holding back? He had this much power all along?
The Persian god of darkness groaned, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. He was lying in the middle of the street and turned to see that there were dozens of civilians around him fleeing for their lives. His eyes narrowed. He was in the western side of Persepolis, where all of the civilians were evacuating. This area was currently highly populated. He worked his jaw. Ugh, who cares? I need to figure out how I’m going to kill Ares. I haven’t had enough time to practice using my powers to battle an opponent of this stature.
A flaming chariot pulled by four warhorses soared across the sky and Ahriman saw that Ares was standing on the flying wagon, nocking an arrow on a diamond bow. The archer fired a projectile that looked like an orange beam that streaked through the air, bolting like a bullet straight for Ahriman.
Ahriman held up his hand and grunted as a shield of black magic formed around him, shimmering as the arrow smashed into it. There was an explosion as orange energy from Ares’ projectile exploded around the Persian god and swallowed the entire street in destruction. Hundreds of innocent Persians were vaporized instantly, incinerated by the radiating heat from the magical explosion of Ares’ arrow. However, Ahriman was still sitting in his shield, watching Ares. “You’re powerful, I’ll give you that,” Ahriman said, the shield collapsing around him. “Finally, a worthy opponent so that I may test my abilities!” The god of darkness began to cackle with mirth. “This is perfect!”