by Mark Mulle
Chapter Five
The setting sun shined its last burst of light on the creature that slithered across the dying forest to reach them. It was none other than the Wither.
“Great, back for round two,” Steve declared.
“It’ll be the last round, because we’re ending it here,” Duran exclaimed.
As it grew closer, Wendy asked, “How do we even kill it?”
“We have to hurt it as much as we can before it can regenerate. If we damage it too much, it’ll die, just like any other living thing.”
Steve glanced at the Wither, who was beginning to stand up. Sure enough, the giant wound that Duran gave it was completely healed. There wasn’t even a battle scar on it. As the three-skulled snake looked at them, they began to run.
“I’d rather not have him blow up the old man’s shack,” Bartholomew stated as they all split in three parts. The Wither began spitting skulls everywhere. One of them flew towards Steve, who jumped just in time to avoid the skull. Wendy managed to avoid all of its attacks, and Bartholomew used his thief-like instincts to evade every attack, and then he managed to sneak behind the Wither. With a mighty swing of his dagger, he stabbed it in the back multiple times before its tail sent him flying. Duran ran towards the giant mob to attack, but the Wither repelled Duran due to its attacks.
As Bartholomew stood up, he rubbed his head, which he landed on. He then looked at the Wither with contempt in his face. He grabbed his dagger from the ground and began sprinting towards it. Meanwhile, Wendy managed to get in front of the Wither, and she stabbed it with her blade, right in the stomach. Steve caught up to her, and managed to pull her away as the Wither attempted to rain fireballs down upon them.
The four reunited, looking at the Wither. It was quite wounded, but already, its wounds were about to heal. The stabs it had in its back were becoming mere paper cuts, and its stomach wound began closing.
“Once again, we got to kill this thing as fast as possible,” Duran declared, yet Steve was unsure how they were going to do it.
“It’s too fast, and its attacks are too powerful.”
As he said this, the Wither slithered towards them, and it began thrashing its tail as it shot out projectiles. This time, Wendy was the one who managed to save Steve’s skin. Steve almost tripped, but Wendy grabbed his hand and they managed to escape. Bartholomew landed on his two feet as he jumped away from the attacks. Meanwhile, Duran was avoiding projectiles on a close call. The other three joined forces again, and that’s when the Wither drew close. With one mighty swing of its tail, it managed to hit all three of them at the same time. They began flying, with Steve landing in the grass, Wendy landing on top of him, and Bartholomew crashing against a tree.
The Wither looked at the three, hissing in triumph as it did. Wendy tried getting off Steve, but she failed. Bartholomew was in too much pain to even think about facing the Wither. The beast slithered towards the three, ready to finish them off.
“Hey, you forgot someone!”
The Wither turned around, and there stood Duran, holding his battle axe with pride. “If you want to kill them, you have to get through me first.”
The two looked at each other in almost a standoff kind of way, and then Duran charged, his battle axe raised. The Wither fired many projectiles at Duran, but instead of attempting to avoid them and ending up in an explosion because of it, he allowed himself to be hit by them. As they contacted Duran, the skulls sank into his body, vanishing.
“No!” Steve shouted as he managed to stand up.
When he drew close, Duran jumped in the air, swung his battle axe, and it hit the Wither in the chest, almost splitting it in two. The Wither began writhing, trying to get Duran off it, but Duran held his grip.
“Now, finish it off!” he shouted at Steve, who managed to grab his sword. “Use my shoulders for support!”
Steve held his sword firmly. “This is for Herobrine!” he shouted, and he began running. The Wither attempted to use more projectiles, but Steve smoothly avoided every one of them. When he reached Duran, he made a mighty jump. His feet landed on Duran’s shoulders, and it propelled him even higher. Now, Steve faced the Wither’s three heads. They opened their mouths in an attempt to hit Steve point blank, but Steve’s agility was unmatched. With one swing, he sliced at the Wither’s skulls. With one horizontal slash, the heads flew from the neck, landing on the ground. When they hit the firm dirt, they all shattered.
When Steve landed on the ground, Duran let go of his axe. Steve ran towards the Wither’s body, and began slashing like mad. He would destroy it so that it would never regenerate, ever. Wendy and a recovered Bartholomew joined in on this, and soon the Wither was torn into ribbons, a mixture of skin and black goop on the ground. Its remains then exploded in a poof of black smoke, along with the debris from the skulls on the ground.
Everyone began panting. “That was a tough battle,” Bartholomew exclaimed. “I may have to get my back checked after that.”
“At least the Wither’s no more,” Steve declared.
They looked at Duran, who was smiling. But as he did this, something happened. His axe soon became his crutch, and before Steve could assist him, Duran passed out. Bartholomew and Steve ran up to him, while Wendy went into Renma’s shack to call for help.
As Steve put his head close to Duran’s, he noticed his breathing was shallow.
“What’s wrong with him?” Steve asked. They dragged him to the hut, unsure of what was wrong.
As they placed Duran’s body inside the hut, Duran coughed. “Is it over?” he asked, his voice sounding like a croak.
Renma walked towards him, raising a thin eyebrow. “What happened?” he asked.
“I’m unsure. The only injury he got was that he was hit by a few of the Wither’s skulls,” Steve replied.
As he said this, Renma gasped. “He has Wither,” he said.
“Wither?” Duran weakly asked.
“It’s a horrible disease caused by the creature of the same name. When you’re hit by its skulls, it destroys you from within, like a fast-acting poison. Unfortunately, unlike a normal snakebite, there’s no antidote for Wither,” Renma told them.
Steve and Wendy looked at him with widened eyes. “Can you not use one of your potions of magic to fix him up?” Steve asked.
Renma shook his head. “I can help relieve some of his pain, but the end result is that he’s going to be dead. Considering he was hit with multiple skulls, I’m surprised that he’s still even alive.”
“A warrior doesn’t die so easily,” Duran explained. “Especially one who has an entire village to look out for.” He said this with a shortness of breath, each word sounding a bit more spaced out than the other one.
“But the truth is, there’s nothing you can do to stop the poison,” Renma admitted. “However, I can give you a potion to relieve some of the pain.”
Duran shook his head, a big smile on his face. “I don’t believe in healing potions. I’ll let death fight me as much as it wants to, no holds barred.”
“Duran,” Steve began, unsure of what to say.
“My life was an interesting one. I went from a warrior to a mayor, yet my fighting spirit never left. I’ve dealt with many hardships, and I have little regrets except for the fact that I wish I could have settled down, started a family,” Duran replied.
“You can still do all that!” Wendy exclaimed, “You just have to fight it!”
“Kick its butt!” Bartholomew added.
Duran smiled once again. “You three really are amazing, I’ll give you that. But I played my part. I rid the world of a powerful monster, led you to the shaman who told you how to get into The End, and saved you three from sure death. But now, it’s up to you. I’ve already picked out a successor in my will. It will be that Marco kid, once he grows up. I’ll make sure there’s a temporary replacement until then, but that Marco kid is fierce, and that’s what makes him mayor material.”
“You’re still going to be the mayor!” Steve told him. “Just fight it!”
Duran shook his head, it moving quite slowly. “Nah, I’m taking a permanent vacation,” he told them.
Within the next hour, Duran’s breathing began slowing, and then Duran called everyone up.
“Just remember, you three need to end this. I’ll haunt you if you don’t,” Duran told them. With that, his body jerked, and then he moved no more.
Steve, Wendy, and Bartholomew looked at Duran, tears coming from their eyes.
“You joined my journey quite late, but you felt like an old friend,” Steve mourned.
“The Ender Dragon will pay,” Wendy replied.
“You were a true ally,” Bartholomew added.
Renma walked towards them, tears forming from his eyes. “I live on, and yet everyone younger than me dies. I’ve outlived my children and my grandchildren, and now an old student of mine is no more.”
“What should we do about him?” Steve asked, tears still flowing.
“I have plenty of potions that can preserve him until the village can give him the burial that he deserves,” Renma told them. “It can last for weeks.”
Renma walked to the back of the house. “By the way, there’s something I forgot to give you before you fought the Wither. You’re well-equipped to fight the Ender Dragon, but it’s still not enough.”
Underneath the shelves of potion, there was a large chest. “Help me pull this out,” Renma asked.
The three walked towards it, and they slowly began pulling it out. After that, Steve opened it.
Inside, there were suits of diamond armor, along with three diamond swords, each of them with a shine that nearly blinded their eyes.
“I used to be a weapons crafter when I was younger,” Renma explained. “These are the best swords and suits of armor I’ve ever created. They’re enchanted for strength and durability, and I think that the three mighty warriors who are supposed to defeat the Ender Dragon will have more use for them than I will.”
“Really?” Steve asked.
“Really. What, do you think I’m going to fight? If I slipped on the armor, it would probably crush me!” Renma told them, laughing. Steve wasn’t sure how he could be in a good mood when Duran was still dead, but he guessed that laughter was really the best medicine.
