by Brandon Chen
The Bount winced, feeling the magical chain tighten around his bicep. The veins in his strained muscles bulged as he fought back against Zylon’s jerking force. He clenched his jaw tightly, saliva pooling in his mouth. He can’t beat me in a contest of strength; he’s just a human!
Zylon pulled both of his arms backward, the glistening chains clanking from his sleeves. A smirk cracked across his lips as he snapped his fingers. Two gigantic mammoths materialized behind the mage, forged from his magic. Zylon’s chains mystically slipped from his sleeves and floated to the colossal beasts, wrapping around their thick legs.
Faelen’s eyes widened at the size of Zylon’s summoned creatures. So that is the power of creation. The mammoths groaned as they trampled over dozens of werewolves, yanking Faelen behind them. The Bount grunted as he slid helplessly through the dirt, dragged by the gargantuan beasts that now dominated the battlefield. He slid past Zylon, who smiled.
Suddenly a sapphire-colored anchor materialized above Faelen and smashed down into the werewolf, creating an explosion that trembled the earth. The chains that were latched onto Faelen snapped and dust wildly swept through the area like a hurricane.
Conjuring an orange bow with a quiver of blue arrows, Zylon began to unleash volleys of projectiles on the waves of werewolves that still sprinted towards his force of fighting knights on the land bridge. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a silhouette rise from the smokescreen of dust beside him.
Before Zylon could even react, a heavy punch caught him in the jaw. The man’s head snapped back and he tumbled back across the ground, his bow flying from his hands. He landed heavily on his back. There was hardly a moment for him to breathe before a werewolf pounced on him, prepared to take a bite out of the immortal.
Magic flowed from his chest, channeling through his forearm into his palm. A black dagger appeared in his hand and he gripped the handle tightly, thrusting the knife’s blade into the side of the creature’s neck. Knowing that wasn’t enough to halt the inexorable monster, Zylon also created a blunderbuss in his other hand. He pressed the gun’s barrel to the werewolf’s gut and fired, spewing blood onto his cloak.
The immortal shoved the dead beast to the side and turned to find that Faelen was limping towards group of struggling Iradian knights. Zylon gritted his teeth and rose to his feet, extending his hand outward as he drafted an enormous amount of power. He summoned a gigantic spiked wall that slammed down before Faelen, sealing the werewolves away from the land bridge.
Faelen’s eyes widened with rage as he froze, shocked at how tall and wide the wall was … it covered the entire land bridge. How was it possible for one to create such a massive structure? He turned and saw that Zylon was trembling, barely standing. Surely using so much magic in such a short time was taxing. Faelen was surprised that the man could still stand.
Zylon panted, sweat dripping down his face. He smirked victoriously, satisfied that he had stopped Faelen’s advance. Though he wasn’t sure how he would escape this situation alive. Now surrounded by countless hairy enemies, the lone magician faced impossible odds.
“No barrier can trap me forever, human,” Faelen barked.
“Well, there’s a first for everything.” Zylon’s hands balled into tight fists, and suddenly gigantic white gauntlets materialized on his hands. Pieces of magical metal began to form on the immortal’s body, until he was completely encased in mystical armor. Two red swords appeared in his hands, the razor-sharp tips scraping the dirt.
Faelen scowled, his eyes narrowing as he watched his subordinate beasts charge the lone warrior. He was surprised by Zylon’s prowess. He’d never seen such a talented human before. The man’s expertise with various weapons seemed to exceed that of a majority of skilled warriors. Zylon’s knowledge and experience in combat was certainly unmatched by any living being, as could be expected of a man that has lived through centuries of chaotic war.
The magician was clearly growing tired, after using so much magic. His movements were becoming sluggish, and his attacks weakened with each beast he struck down. While he could still hold his own against the myriad of werewolves that encased him, Faelen knew that he could easily smash through the immortal’s defenses. “You’re impressive.” The Bount launched himself forward, his body a mere blur as he raced towards the unprepared mage. He rotated his body and swung his fist straight into the side of Zylon’s helmet. The man’s head snapped to the side and his body twisted as he spun through the air, smashing into the dirt like a lifeless doll. “But you’re still only human.”
The armor dissipated, and all that was left on the ground was the broken body of Zylon.
Faelen stood before the unmoving immortal, his jaws clenched in frustration. It truly was a remarkable feat to bring down the infamous Zylon, but he didn’t intend to kill the defenseless man. He had other plans. The werewolf reached down and grabbed his unconscious opponent, slinging the limp body over his shoulder. Shrugging, he began to trudge back towards the woods. Remaining confined to the peninsula was the last thing that he wanted, but he knew that letting Tanya go ahead was the best course of action. Glancing over his shoulder at the massive wall that Zylon had created, he let out a deep sigh. Bypassing such an obstacle would be difficult unless the immortal deactivated the magic himself. Luckily for Faelen, he was good at forcing a man’s hand.
***
Tanya rushed towards the army of knights that lay between her and freedom. The warriors were all preoccupied with dealing with the werewolves that had broken through their ranks. But soon their attention would turn to her, the true threat.
The Bount leapt gracefully over the wall of silver shields that the knights had formed to halt her. The soldiers stared incredulously as she landed on the other side of the wall, wielding her chain whip. They didn’t know that werewolves were capable of wielding weapons.
Tanya swung her whip back, the blade slicing through the armor of every knight in the front lines. Their agonizing screams created a cacophony of wails as the warriors collapsed, dismembered and hemorrhaging blood from fatal wounds. The shield wall collapsed along with them, the protective pieces clattering to the ground.
Surging forward elegantly, Tanya weaved her way around the soldiers. Her chain whip carved a perfect path for her, for it was powerful enough to shred the armor of the warriors. Zylon’s men were incapable of dodging Tanya’s attacks, for her blades cut through the air with blinding speed. Even if they could see her weapon, it wasn’t physically possible for them to avoid its path.
Tanya heard a loud boom behind her that sounded like an explosion. Stealing a glance over her shoulder, her eyes widened when she saw that a massive black wall, fabricated from Zylon’s magic, had sealed off the entire land bridge. It was so tall that even werewolves would have trouble climbing it. Her heart thumped, realizing that Faelen truly would be confined to Horux’s peninsula. Biting her lower lip, she knew that Faelen was depending on her to get to Escalon’s mainland. She would not let him down, not after he’d granted her this incredible power.
Tearing her way through the army of Iradian knights, Tanya finally smashed through the final ranks and dashed freely onto the mainland. Her heart raced; she’d done it!
Looking once more over her shoulder, Tanya saw that the druid was no longer pursuing her. Most likely, he had to help the wounded knights eradicate the rest of the werewolves. It was probably best if Tanya put as much distance between her and the elf as possible. Tucking her chain whip into her cloak, she sprinted onto a field of grass, her unwavering gaze trained forward.
The Awakening Dead
Days of vigorous traveling made Yuri feel like his body was falling apart. Every bone in his body ached. He didn’t understand how the horses were still able to move, since even he felt fatigued, just from riding them. They would travel for about fifteen hours a day, and spend the rest of the time setting up camp, eating, or sleeping. Kura’s travel plan was grueling, exhausting even her experienced comrades. Nevertheless, no one opened the
ir mouths to complain, so Yuri kept his shut.
The landscape consisted mostly of hills and fields until they reached Northern Escalon, approaching Lichholme. The weather became chillier as they moved north, and the grasslands were now covered in a thin layer of snow. There were not many trees around. The terrain became mountainous, with boulders scattered throughout the land. The party had gradually traveled into high elevation when they finally reached the giant glacier that marked the entrance to Lichholme.
Yuri rubbed his aching back as he dismounted, his boots sinking into the snow as he looked up in awe at the towering cliffs of ice looming over the small party of warriors. Scaling the massive glacier was impossible, but it seemed that they wouldn’t need to. As Kura had said, there was indeed a gaping rip in the glacier that cut a clear path into Lichholme.
The boy watched as his comrades began to trudge through the snow, making their way towards the giant passageway. He swallowed hard, suddenly recognizing the glacier. He had been here before in his second dream with Malyios; this was where he had fallen into an abyss of darkness. Yuri looked to the top of the icy cliffs, licking his lower lip nervously. That was where the Titan had pushed him into an army of undead.
It didn’t look like there were any undead abominations in the passageway ahead, but Yuri couldn’t be too sure from this distance. He returned to reality when Terias tapped his shoulder. The knight had a swollen eye since he spent each night training with Senna, using every free opportunity to try and better himself in the art of fighting. Terias always emerged from his sparring lessons with more than a couple of bruises, but he never complained. He seemed euphoric ever since he’d become a knight-in-training. “Archerus saw someone pursuing us. Looks like it’s the princess,” Terias said.
Yuri turned and spotted Princess Violet behind them on horseback, clearly exhausted from the long journey. Nevertheless, she was galloping at a rapid pace, swiftly moving across the snowy lands. He let out a sigh of relief, glad that Violet had managed to follow them all this way. He’d had his doubts about whether or not she’d be able to keep up with their ridiculous pace, but it seemed that she was tougher than he gave her credit for.
“What the hell is the damned princess doing here? This is not a quest for fragile damsels!” Kura growled, her irritated scowl showing her clear disrespect for the princess. “Tassan, Oma, the two of you will escort her ba—”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Yuri said, feeling a wave of unease tremble through his body as Kura darted him an irate glare. But he gulped back his perturbment and continued. “We’re going to need every member of our group for this journey. Lichholme is dangerous. We can’t afford to sacrifice two of us just to escort Princess Violet back.”
Kura raised her eyebrows, putting her hands on her hips. “I don’t give a crap! She’ll hold us back and get us all killed. Weak links in the group should be severed,” she said, stealing a glance in Terias’s direction. The trainee slunk behind Senna, clearly understanding that he still had a lot of room for improvement.
“I can’t help but agree with Yuri on this one,” Noah said, watching as Princess Violet slowed to a canter, approaching the group. “We have the resources to include another person, and we are already low on manpower as it is. Taking the princess in may be the better option.”
Kura’s right-hand man, Tassan, raised his hand. “What if we just leave her behind?” he suggested.
“Who knows whether or not she would be able to make it all the way back to Reidan. It’s a miracle that she managed to follow us all this way without running into any danger,” Noah said. “Not to mention, she may not have the supplies for the return trip. Turning her away would be the same as condemning the princess to her demise. I don’t think King Reimos would approve of such a decision.”
Kura narrowed her eyes and groaned, rubbing her palm against her forehead. Turning away, she spat into the snow as she tramped towards the passageway into the glacier. “Fine, she can stay. But she won’t get any special treatment just because of her title. In the wilderness, royalty means nothing.”
“Understood.” Noah nodded, adjusting his glasses with a gentle poke to his lenses.
Yuri exhaled. Nice save, Noah. He turned and saw that some of the warriors were helping Violet off her horse.
She had heavy bags under her eyes, and her arms drooped weakly as she stumbled off her mount, wearily smiling at Yuri. “Made it,” she breathed out, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Don’t worry, you just have to push a little further.” Yuri nodded to the glacier. “Once we get into Lichholme, I think we’ll set up camp. You can rest then.”
Violet noticed that the rest of the group had started moving towards the glacier’s giant fissure. She shivered slightly, not from the cold weather but because of the ominous feeling emanating from the passageway. “That’s the entrance to Lichholme?” she murmured to Yuri, a wisp of mist drifting from her lips as she spoke. “There’s something eerie about it.”
“It would seem it’s the only way,” Yuri said, seeing the look of disconcertion on her face. He wanted to say something to comfort her, to affirm that there was no danger ahead. But he couldn’t. He could sense something menacing about the atmosphere and the air stank of the familiar scent of fresh corpses. He saw that Archerus also felt uneasy, but the two werewolves kept their feelings to themselves as they moved forward.
Finally out of the snow, the group now walked into the ice canyon. Yuri saw that Kura’s warriors were all concerned about the possibility of an ambush. They were all looking up, scanning the cliffs for any signs of an enemy. But all they saw was the dark cloudy skies, blotting out the sun’s rays.
It was as painfully silent as Horux’s forest. He recalled when he and Asmund had journeyed outside of the city to search for the entrance to the underground catacombs. Yuri felt just as he did then, like someone was watching them. Except this time, there was a tingling sensation in his body. He could tell that there was something in this gorge, but he didn’t know what.
“Weapons out,” Archerus commanded and everyone in the party brandished their swords in unison, looking around for their enemy in confusion. “There’s something here.”
“I don’t see anything,” Senna said.
“Neither do I,” Kura murmured, whirling her short-sword.
Yuri heard it now, the sound of a piece of ice crunching underneath the boot of someone’s foot. Above. He glanced upward and saw a blurred figure rushing down at Kura with blinding speed. The boy sprinted forward, putting himself between Kura and the attacker, ripping his sword upwards. There was a hard clang that echoed through the canyon as Yuri parried a powerful blow from the assailant’s rapier.
The cloaked attacker was a middle-aged woman with skin as white as snow. Her eyes, orange as blazing flames, flashed with surprise when she saw that Yuri had managed to block her strike. Amusement crossed her face as the assassin disengaged, flipping backwards. Landing several meters away, she licked her blood-red lips, revealing pointed fangs. “My, my, it’s been far too long since I’ve seen one of your kind,” she said, gazing at Yuri lustfully. She smirked at Archerus. “Two werewolves and a dozen humans, what a pleasant surprise. What are you lot doing so far from home?”
“Werewolves?” Senna said, staring at Yuri in shock. He scowled angrily. “You lied—”
“Can we save this for later?” Archerus grumbled, darting the knight an irritated glare. “Yuri and I are not a threat to you. If we were, you would all be infected by now, wouldn’t you? So shut up and focus on the real enemy.” He pointed the tip of his sword at the cloaked assailant. “The vampire.”
“Vampire?” Kura’s grip on the hilt of her sword tightened.
The vampire shrugged, lowering her steel rapier. “I can’t defeat two werewolves on my own, so I’ll be on my way,” she said with a chuckle, nodding to Yuri. “You, what is your name?”
“Yuri.”
“And I am Malyssa,” the pale lady said
with a respectful bow to the werewolf. A broad grin crept across her lips and she snapped her fingers. “If you do survive here, Yuri, I look forward to crossing paths with you again. Few have ever blocked a strike from me. I’m impressed. You’re very quick.” She tilted her head to the side, acknowledging the rest of Yuri’s companions. “As for the rest of you, I doubt that you have what it takes to survive in the harsh wasteland of Lichholme. That is, if you even make it through this gorge. Enjoy yourselves.”
Yuri could feel the ice underneath his feet beginning to rumble, with minor tremors that soon turned into a thundering earthquake. The pungent scent of decaying flesh suddenly filled his nostrils, making his stomach heave. He gasped, feeling sick as he collapsed onto his knees.
“Yuri, what’s wrong?” Terias exclaimed, as he and Violet quickly rushed to the boy’s side.
“We’re in trouble,” Archerus grumbled, scrunching up his nose.
Malyssa let out a wicked cackle as she slammed her feet into the ground, propelling herself hundreds of feet into air, leaping out of the canyon and landing on one of the cliffs. She glanced down at Yuri and licked her lower lip slowly, thinking about how delicious the werewolf’s blood would taste. “Until next time.” She vanished from view.
Yuri grunted, forcing himself onto his feet. Wincing at the powerful miasma, he pointed forward. “We need to run, now!” he growled, just as the ground began to crack. Monstrosities began to tear their way through the icy floor, dragging themselves into the glacier’s gorge. The creatures had putrefied flesh attached to bone, with green pus spewing from the bloody boils on their faces. They had no eyes — only empty sockets that stared blankly at Yuri’s party. Letting out horrific screeches, the undead hobbled forward. What started as an irregular limp soon turned into a frantic sprint as the horde of zombies surged towards the shocked group of warriors.
Archerus did not hesitate to transform into a werewolf, his body shifting in an instant. Kura’s companions yelped in surprise at his physical alteration, but were relieved when they saw the beast pounce onto a group of undead instead of them. “Get moving!” he barked.