by Aaron Oster
They attempted several landings, each thwarted by powerful winds and disorienting wails now permeating the air. They tore at her ears, making Grace feel even more nauseous than she already was. It made her regret her decision to come after Morgan. She should have listened to his advice and simply stayed back, but instead, she’d had to be stubborn and insist on coming out here like an idiot.
Another powerful gust of wind tore at Lumia’s left wing. It forced them to the right and elicited a deep growl from the drake in response. Grace wasn’t too sure what Lumia could do about it, though. They were essentially fighting a force of nature, one that seemed far stronger than any she’d ever seen. Her unasked question was answered a moment later, as the entire sky before them was illuminated in a brilliant flash of crimson light.
The burning flames bust from Lumia’s open maw, disrupting the winds as the superheated air created a small pocket of calm. More fire burst from the drake’s mouth as she began to descend, roaring her defiance to the storm and letting it know what she thought if its attempts to slow her.
Grace watched in awe as the sand parted around them, the bursts of red fire forcing the storm back enough for her to make a safe landing. Sand crunched beneath her claws as she touched down, immediately folding her wings and tucking them securely against her sides. She then began to shrink rapidly. Within a few seconds, Grace was left clinging to the back of a much smaller Lumia, now in her hybrid form.
“What do we do now?” she asked, her voice muffled and sounding ragged and raw through the cloth covering her face.
“We forge on ahead,” Lumia replied, squinting through the whirling storm of dust and sand. “We are closer to the Ruined City than the town. If we can make it there, we can find shelter, or, better yet, the eye of this storm.”
“Sandstorms have an eye?” she asked as Lumia began running.
Her position on the drake’s back was now far more tenuous and a good deal less comfortable. But, down on the ground, the storm seemed to be much calmer, which Grace found to be quite strange.
“All storms have an eye, especially ones driven by wind, like this one is. It is unnatural and far more powerful than any storms at this time of year have a right to be.”
Another blast of fire, this one a pure white, tore through the air before them, revealing, just for an instant, a looming mass of darkness up ahead. Grace felt her heart skip a beat. As Lumia sped up, heading toward the source of the darkness even faster, Grace soon realized what it was – the walls of the Ruined City.
Grace had never been here before, as she hadn’t been many places outside of the East Kingdom, but she had heard a few stories about it growing up. Everyone knew about the legendary city in the West Kingdom, which was abandoned by all and blocked off from the outside world. Rumor had it that there were hordes of treasure within, all guarded by a terrible monster. They were all just stories. At least, that’s what she hoped.
The monster part had turned out to be true, as a Pinnacle King was just about the most terrifying monster one could face. The treasure thing was probably all made up, though Grace thought that it would be nice to discover some long-lost riches on their trip.
Another gust of wind, this one far more powerful than any others, snapped her from her thoughts. Lumia staggered back, roaring in annoyance as the sand tried its best to force them to turn around. Unlike her, the drake’s hide was tough enough to handle the scouring sands, and her lungs had the capacity to manage all the dust and grit. Still, this storm had proved to be a challenge, even for someone as powerful as her.
The air was once again illuminated as Lumia attacked, azure flames burning so hot that it turned everything in their immediate vicinity to sparkling motes of glass. The air gusted outward, blasted away by the brilliant flash of light, and, for the first time since entering the sandstorm, Grace got a clear view of the landscape ahead.
She got a brief flash of a massive wall that seemed to blot out the very sky itself. She also saw the sun, shining high above as it painted the world in a brilliant almost-golden light. Before the sandstorm could close back in, Lumia lurched forward, her wings snapping open and driving them toward the towering city walls.
Grace could see the walls of the storm closing in fast, as though it were a pair of doors trying to slam shut before they could exit. The drake was just a hair faster than the storm this time and managed to break free, just as the wall of sand slammed shut. They burst out into the open air, calm and still for the first time since entering.
“That is not something I’d like to repeat anytime soon,” Grace said, pulling the cloth from her mouth and shaking it free of sand.
“Neither do I,” Lumia replied, spreading her wings once again to take them into the air.
The walls of the Ruined City blurred past for an instant. They cleared them, revealing the interior in all its strange glory. Behind them, the walls of the sandstorm whirled, funneling up into the sky. On the far side of the city, Grace could see where the walls of the storm continued. The sight was so oddly surreal that she had a hard time grasping its sheer scale and the oddity of knowing there was a storm just a few feet away.
Lumia drifted down to the ground, allowing Grace to slide from her back, her feet touching down for the first time since they’d left. However, she was unable to take her eyes off the strange sight of the storm walls.
“It’s incredible.”
That was all Grace managed to say before the ground at the very center of the city exploded outward in a cloud of dust and debris, revealing a creature straight out of Grace’s worst nightmares. It was huge, nearly as large as Lumia in her hybrid form, with powerful cords of muscle standing out all over its body.
Gigantic feathered wings beat powerfully at the air, and a sectioned black tail, tipped by an enormous stinger, twitched behind it. As though it could sense that it was being watched, the creature turned, fixing her with its burning violet eyes. She froze in place, feeling as though her muscles had been forcibly locked up.
In that moment, Grace knew that this was the end. No one could save her from this monster. Not Morgan, not Lumia, not the most powerful fighters in this world. None of them could hold a candle to this beast’s power. She didn’t know how, but she could sense the beast’s malicious intent, and she could see the moment it decided to come for her.
Her body trembled in terror as the massive wings snapped wide and beat at the air just three times. That was all it took to bring the beast within ten feet of her. Its shadow loomed above her, blotting out the sun. It was a nightmarish monster, many times more terrifying than anything she had ever faced.
Right now, all she knew was that she was going to die, and no one was fast enough to save her. She could see gleaming black claws, reflecting white light as they extended above the beast. It looked at her as though she were worse than trash. There was malicious glee in its eyes, and sharp white fangs showed as it smiled. This close up, Grace could see that this beast looked pretty beat-up, not that that would help her much right now.
“Your death will bring forth the true Beast King. I can feel it!”
The purring voice sounded in her mind, sounding pleased and elated. Grace didn’t know how, but she knew it had come from the beast before her. All her life, she’d wanted to be more. She wanted to make a difference and show all those who’d made fun of her or doubted her that she could make something of herself.
For just a few short weeks, she’d managed it. She’d gone so far as to become a supermage. Though it was short-lived, her life had had meaning beyond her meager existence as a poor farmer’s daughter. In that single frozen moment, right before its claws descended, Grace smiled.
She had no idea why she did. She wasn’t happy that she was going to die, but people did strange things in the face of death. She had gotten to live out her wildest dreams, even if only for a moment, and in her opinion, that was good enough.
Grace didn’t close her eyes. She decided to meet death straight on.
48
The ground before him exploded as Pentagon smashed through, her powerful wings beating at the air while violet light cloaked her body. She seemed reenergized, revitalized and rearing to go, unlike him. He was lying on the ground, looking like a desiccated corpse.
The Pinnacle King’s eyes, still shining a brilliant violet, locked onto him, her slitted pupils contracting slightly as they adjusted to the brighter room. Down here, just a single level below the surface, there was no more artificial light. Sunlight streamed through cracks in the ceiling. It painted some of the ground in bright spots and left others cloaked in shadow. The dappled lighting only served to make the Pinnacle King all the more intimidating, outlining her powerful frame and accentuating the taut muscles rippling beneath the fur.
A gleam of white reflected some of the light as Pentagon grinned, her enlarged canines showing her pleasure.
“What a sad sight you are, Father. Lying on the ground, all broken and defeated. No King should appear as you do. Cast aside your pitiful humanity and join me as the beast I know you to be!”
Morgan winced as he tried to push himself up, blood flecking the ground beneath him. He felt like he’d already lost all he could, yet he was still somehow losing more. The sand under his body was a dark rusty brown, having thirstily soaked up the little moisture it had been provided.
A powerful blow between his shoulders forced him back into the sand, searing pain flashing through him as sharpened claws punched into his flesh.
“You cannot keep resisting,” Pentagon hissed, bringing her face right up to his. “You do not have the strength!”
Her fingers curled inside of his back, gripping his spine and beginning to slowly squeeze. Tough as he was, Morgan knew he’d be all but useless without his spine. If it was broken, he would be unable to fight. His ability to heal only went so far. It would not bring him back from the dead. But he wasn’t planning on dying. He wasn’t planning on allowing this creature to goad him into letting go or unleashing the Beast.
In her mind, Pentagon was sure that if he only let go, the Beast King would emerge, join with her and conquer the world. What she didn’t know was that the monster living inside of him was not the sharing type. Sure, it would conquer the world, but in the eyes of the Beast, conquest basically equated to slaughter. Thanks to his trip to the Soul Well, Morgan now had another option. It had taken patience and willpower to resist running, to stay where he was and allow his depleted RP to regenerate, and now, it was going to pay off.
“I have more than enough strength,” Morgan said, letting out a dry chuckle.
He used Soulstream, activating the skill for the first time, and waited for the flood of power. What happened next was completely unexpected. There was more pain than he could ever remember enduring, as Pentagon tore her arm free, ripping the flesh from his back and bringing a section of his spine with it.
A horrible, empty sensation of numbness followed. It spread from his legs, up his back and to his arms and chest. He couldn’t move, could do nothing at all as a chunk of bone, coated in dark greyish material and covered in blood, fell to the ground before him.
“I see no strength in you, human. But perhaps this will finally draw him out!”
The voice sounded eager, excited, and above all, bloodthirsty. He could sense the pleasure this beast was getting out of torturing him, but Morgan couldn’t focus on that. He had to keep his mind on the task at hand. He’d been injured before. He’d broken bones, lost limbs and had died temporarily – and more than once, at that! This was nothing. Pain was temporary, and in the face of power, what did pain even matter?
The Beast, which had been slamming itself into the doors restraining it, suddenly vanished, its consciousness seeming to melt away in the face of his power. Power now flooded into him, burning through his broken body and revitalizing him. From one moment to the next, everything changed.
One second, he was lying on the ground, his skin flayed from his body, spine torn out while he quickly bled to death. The next, he was upright, his feet hovering a few inches off the ground with more power flooding through him than he ever could have imagined. The strength in his limbs was absolutely incredible, and his reiki was regenerating so quickly that he didn’t think he could even push himself hard enough to run out. At least, not while he had this skill going.
In his mind’s eye, he could see the Beast King as a dark cloud. A violet chain was wrapped around it, with a needle inserted into its very center. A steady stream of power flowed out of that cloud, twisting through a series of loops and flooding into his own body. In his current state, Morgan felt as though he could tear an entire city down with his bare hands and not even break a sweat.
Not only that, but the side effects that usually came with using the Beast King’s power were nowhere to be seen. For the first time in his life, he was in complete control. His eyes turned on the Pinnacle King, who had taken a couple of steps back reflexively.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, clearly shocked by his transformation. Though Morgan couldn’t see it, his body was cloaked in a shining purple outline, which covered him like a second, transparent skin. He was now a form with wild hair and musculature that dwarfed his own. A long tail now trailed behind him, and his hands ended with his powerful claws. His feet now appeared to be more animal-like than human.
It wasn’t his appearance than frightened her, but rather, it was the feeling that he gave off. He was nothing like the beast she expected to see. The Beast King’s power should have been wild, untamed and powerful beyond comprehension. This creature, while containing said power, was anything but wild. It was as though he’d contained the power of a storm, concentrating it inside a single point.
Something like that should have been impossible. To keep that much contained should have broken a normal person, especially one that had been on the verge of death only moments before. Yet Morgan – for this was undoubtedly the human, and not the Beast – had managed to do just that. Judging by the way he was looking at her, he was ready to unleash the full might of that storm upon the only viable target.
“Where is he?” Pentagon demanded. “What have you done with him?”
“If I were you, I’d be less concerned with where my daddy is and more concerned about preserving my own life.”
He was calmer than he’d been expecting. Perhaps that was a result of the skill, but either way, Morgan was glad. He’d come into this fight far too angry and had made too many mistakes to count. With a clear head and calm mind, he could think, strategize and implement his attacks effectively. He only had ten minutes before the skill wore off, so he’d have to try and use its full potential.
Pentagon roared in anger, her massive black claws extending from her fingers and reflecting the light of the sun streaming in through the cracks.
“If you won’t let him out, I guess I’ll just have to keep beating you until he does!”
Her wings snapped back, sand twisting up around her and cloaking her form once again. Rugged armor spread across her fur, black and red lines tracing across the construct in a confusing pattern that Morgan could not understand. He knew it served some purpose, as that was what his senses, the same ones that were practically screaming at him to put some distance between them, told him.
His muscles bunched up, and he did just that, leaping back as Pentagon struck. He was shocked by the speed at which he moved. His body felt so light that he went back farther than he’d meant, landing over fifty feet away. As he landed, Pentagon’s attack began, the massive wave of sand she’d pulled up from behind her slamming into the ground where he’d been standing just moments ago.
She seemed to be moving far slower than she had before, and as her eyes flicked up to him, he realized something. Pentagon, who was a Pinnacle King, was afraid of him. That realization hit Morgan like a ton of bricks, finally giving him the confidence needed to strike back. His time was limited, and if he didn’t take advantage of every second, it could very well cost him everything.
He dashed forward, vanishing halfway to her and appearing to her left. His hand flashed out, catching her in the jaw with a powerful punch. A Stormforged lance whirled over his arm, summoned with ease unlike anything he’d felt before. Pentagon twisted, slashing with her claws, but he was behind her now, having teleported there the instant his attack had landed. The lance slammed into the lioness’s shoulder, tearing into the forged armor and ripping chunks of sand from its construction.
A sand spike lanced up towards him, and Morgan teleported again, appearing right in front of her face and lashing out with a powerful kick. There was a loud boom as he unleashed a Compression blast from the back of his leg, lending the kick extra power. Pentagon managed to get her guard up in time to block but wasn’t strong enough to stand her ground as the blow connected.
The Pinnacle King was blasted off her feet and sent flying across the room, where she slammed into the far wall and left a crater nearly a foot deep. Morgan followed, teleporting in front of her, and unleashed a barrage of blows as he drove her deeper and deeper into the wall. Each time she tried to strike back, he vanished for an instant, appearing just a couple of inches to her right or left as he continued his assault.
The longer he fought, the more confident he became. The power he had was incredible. The knowledge that he wasn’t actually doing anything more than he was already technically capable of made Morgan realize just how much potential he still had. When the Beast King emerged, he fought using Morgan’s body, which meant that he couldn’t pull out anything more than he was physically capable of.
Morgan had already known that he wasn’t living up to his full potential, but this experience was truly eye-opening. All of his previous experiences with the Beast King’s fights had been second-hand at best, and even that would be an exaggeration. They were less accounts of what had happened, and more like a half-remembered drunken haze, in which he could vaguely recall what had transpired.