The channeler tries her best to smile, but her eyes betray her fear. “I think the Baron is toying with us. What if we can’t stop him? I trained for this my entire life and I haven’t left a scratch on him. Sure, I was out of my mind and using no strategy, but he should have some injury now that he doesn’t have his armor. We can’t keep banging our heads against the Baron and hope he dies. That feels like what we’re doing instead of-”
“Working as a team,” the young man finishes while scratching his chin. Tracking the most potent aura trail in the area, he finds himself annoyed with the futility of their actions. “You’re probably right. Dariana at full power couldn’t make a dent either. At least the Sword of Xan and the Baron’s armor are gone. Maybe we have to take this guy down step by step. Eliminate his strengths instead of going right for the kill.”
“Follow me!”
“The Baron is the other way.”
“I know, but I need to talk to someone!”
Delvin takes a final look in the direction of their friends before muttering, “Really hope you guys can hold out without us.”
*****
After using a lot of his magic fending off Nyx’s destructive assault, the Baron runs and leaps along the rooftops. The remnants of his protection spells dangle from his body, the shards only visible when struck by the right amount of sunlight. They gradually sink into his skin to be broken down and reabsorbed, so that not even a single drop of aura is wasted. He can feel his magic steadily recovering, but knows that it will take another few minutes to regain all of his expended strength. With there being no sign of Nyx, the Baron hopes that she has been removed from the battle for a while and he can focus on the less aggressive champions. A twinge of guilt and shame flickers in his mind at the thought of being afraid of his enemies, but the slight burn on his hand reminds him that there is more at stake than his pride.
A shadow passes over the Baron as he jumps over a street and gently lands on the side of a building. The immortal watches the griffin and Dariana swing back around, the pair picking up speed to ram him. Drawing an icy cutlass from behind his back, he prepares to meet the reckless charge. When he senses something is wrong, the Baron leaps up to the roof and watches the beast crash through a window. He whirls around to slash at Dariana, the telepath having been waiting above the whole time. The goading smile fades from the warlord’s face when he sees that his daughter is blocking his arm with her own regenerated limb. She throws a punch that he moves to slash with a second cutlass, but the limb circles around the blade and strikes him in the face. Pushing his daughter back, the Baron gets away from the edge and receives several more blows to the face before he gets out of range. He hears a faint thud behind him and turns enough to parry Luke’s sabers, the weapons dripping with pink energy.
“Both of you must be proud to have me cornered like this,” the Baron says while kicking the half-elf away. He yanks his leg back to avoid losing it, but the movement leaves him open for a punch that knocks him onto another rooftop. “I am curious to learn how you recovered your arms so quickly. Your brother had his time magic and I was once a god, but you have never had the ability to heal such injuries without help. Did that mercenary live long enough to use his power on you?”
“He’s still alive and will face you again soon enough,” Dariana replies as she rushes forward. Ducking under the cutlasses, she elbows her father in the stomach and sends him skidding back. “All of us know that this is our final battle. We’re not happy about dying, but we’re prepared for it. As long as you die with us.”
“I’d much rather kill him and live a lot longer,” Luke chimes in with a smirk. The cutlasses and his sabers rapidly clang together, neither swordsman giving ground. “You’re not that tough without your favorite sword and armor. Honestly, I’m starting to wonder what all of the fuss was about. The only reason you’re lasting so long is because we keep getting separated, which is bound to change at some point. At least your son made us afraid when we fought him. Then again, he was active in Windemere instead of playing with demons and twiddling his thumbs for centuries.”
“Again, trying to anger me will-” the Baron starts to say before he receives another shot to the mouth. Spitting out a tooth, he knocks Luke’s sabers aside and kicks with enough force to knock the champion across the street. “All you have are distractions and tricks. I look one way and get attacked from another. This is why I toy with you. I want this battle to last until you stop coming at me with childish games.”
Dariana strikes her father from behind, the flying tackle sending both immortals off the rooftop. She flips in midair and drives the Baron into the pavement with her feet before leaping away from his quick slashes. Rising out of the rubble and wiping stone chips off his shirt, the warlord watches his daughter come at him again. Her punch passes through his cutlasses to strike his chin and knock him through a store window. Instead of returning to the fight, the Baron blasts the rear wall with a fireball and retreats down the other street. He waves over his shoulder as Dariana and Luke give chase, the two champions sticking to the rooftops. Throwing daggers and crossbow bolts repeatedly fly from his hands, the conjured projectiles keeping his pursuers at bay. It is only when he comes to a large intersection that the warlord stops and calmly uses an enchanted comb get some dirt out of his beard.
The instant the champions land on the ground, the Baron appears behind them and slams the pair together. With a flick of his wrist, he hurls Luke into a building that collapses on top of the forest tracker. Focusing on his daughter, the warlord uses a staff to jab at her stomach and block her attacks with wild spins. Thrusting the weapon at her face, he fights to ignore her incoming fists and turns his attack into a sweep. Breaking her telepathic control, the Baron watches her arms vanish and swings his staff to knock her kick away. Without her illusionary limbs, Dariana is easier to handle, but she is still able to land a few echoing blows that leaving her father’s torso heavily bruised. Transforming his weapon into a halberd, he charges and comes dangerously close to gutting his daughter. Her incredible reflexes and centuries of training help her rapidly kick the long blade away while backing up, but she is eventually cornered against an overturned cart.
“That was an excellent strategy,” the Baron declares before stabbing backwards. He frowns at how Luke blocks the heavy weapon, but the half-elf is unable to defend against the street turning to mud beneath his feet. “You have become a true nuisance. What will it take to make you stay down?”
“Sorry, but I’m not very good at giving up,” the forest tracker replies as he tries to climb free of the muck. Hearing a crinkling from the ground, he flips himself onto the cobblestones before the mud hardens back into solid rock. “You came close to making me quit, which has only made me angry at myself. I still have loved ones to fight for and I can’t face them in this world or the next if I give up. By the way, you’re right about us loving to use distractions and tricks.”
The city shakes and a deafening roar erupts in the distance, the noise getting louder as the source gets closer. Unsure of where the danger is coming from, the Baron drives Luke away with a flurry of acid arrows and whirls around to do the same to Dariana. When he turns back to the forest tracker, he spots a gigantic wave of seawater coming around the corner. Sari waves from atop the foamy crest and creates chunks of jagged ice within her creation. She steps onto a lamppost at the corner of the intersection while her attack crashes into a burning building, which fills the area with steam. The Baron soars above the thick cover, his fear of Timoran hiding within justified when the barbarian shatters the ground he was standing on. He swings his arms back while summoning a pair of giant mauls, their heads glowing dark green. The blunt weapons hit Luke and Dariana in the chest and wraps them in strangling spells while they crash to the soaked ground.
“Now, I am truly insulted,” the Baron says, his eyes dripping black muck into his hands. He flings the enchanted tar at Sari, who is leaping and jumping within the mist. “At what point do you f
ace me like true heroes? Only two of you have had the courage to fight me head on. Not that it did them any good since one is pathetically weak and the other was too angry to think straight. Let me try once more to drive home the fact that this is not some temple challenge or a simple adventure.”
Once he has twenty globs of tar stuck to the surrounding buildings, the Baron has them explode and buries the champions in rubble. Only Timoran is left exposed, the barbarian lifting his weapon to block the incoming attack. Grabbing the great axe by the blade, the warlord lifts the taller warrior over his head like a giant would pick up a single tree. He drives his fist into the champion’s stomach, but the tensed muscles prove to be too dense for such a half-strength attack. He tries again and drives his hand further into his enemy, who refuses to scream as he leaks blood onto the immortal’s face. Slamming Timoran to the ground, the Baron drags the red-haired man to his knees and conjures an executioner’s axe. A kick to the gut causes the barbarian to double over and expose the back of his neck. The warlord lifts his weapon and takes careful aim, his arms bloating to give him enough strength to finish the job in one blow.
“Fizzle make big evil go poof!” shouts the drite from above. A narrow disintegration blast destroys the Baron’s weapon at the same time Tigris rushes out of a cloud of mist and tackles Timoran to safety. “No let friends fight alone. Fizzle fight too. Old evil man not stop Fizzle. You die now.”
“Like a drite could harm me,” the Baron says with an arrogant sneer. He ducks the expected dive, but receives a painful whip to his face. “I should be annoyed about your interference, but what is the point? The wife saves her husband by putting herself in danger. The dragon enters a fray that he has no business being involved in. A prophecy is at work here and none of you are part of it. The champions are the ones destined to face me.”
“Yes, but the prophecy never said that they must stand alone,” Aedyn calmly declares, the priest having trouble climbing over the fallen buildings. With a wave of his staff, he frees his friends and heals them of their minor injuries. “One thing I have learned is that destiny is more fluid and less predictable than we believe. The fact that I am even allowed to be in your presence means that I can do more than watch and wait. Know that you have more than six enemies to worry about on this battlefield, Baron Kernaghan. Underestimate any one of us at your own peril.”
Aedyn fires a beam that the warlord steps away from, which allows the healing spell to strike Timoran like the priest intended. The next blast looks no different than the last, so the Baron cautiously remains in its path and is promptly knocked back by the condensed light. It does not hurt the immortal, but pushes him towards Tigris, who jams two of her spears into his waist. The blonde-haired barbarian grips her weapons and suplexes the warlord, which drives his head into the pavement. Not wanting to be left out, Timoran rushes in to grab the Baron by the legs and wields him like a club that he slams into the ground. Diving out of the sky, Fizzle rams into the immortal’s upper back with enough force to create a small crater around them. Daggers and light spells fly at the rising warlord while Sari and Aedyn hurry to get Luke and Dariana out of the strangling spells. Once free, the gasping fighters rush to into the fray and keep the Baron on the defensive. He pays close attention to Luke’s deadly sabers, even going so far as to take a painful blow from other enemies in order to avoid a slash. With so many attacks coming from every direction, the immortal does whatever it takes to minimize the damage while he thinks of a way to regain control.
The opportunity comes when Fizzle rams into the Baron and the pair are driven out of the tightly pack mob. Free to strike without opening himself to an attack, he violently slams the drite into the street. The warlord stomps on the dragon’s tail and grabs him by the sides to yank him into the air, which severs the long body part. Fizzle shrieks and cries in agony as he is tossed aside, a healing beam following him. The Baron teleports behind Tigris and grabs her by the back of the neck before hurling her at the distant ocean. A pair of nearby griffin riders swoop down to catch the barbarian, but a lightning trap electrocutes all of them. The unconscious fighters plummet towards the water where the sea elves and unscathed griffins hurry to the rescue. Turning his attention to Aedyn, the warlord simply waves his hand and shatters the priest’s metal legs. He throws an entire rooftop at the defenseless half-elf, but the piece of debris is sundered by Timoran, who stands guard over his friend. Looking around the battlefield, the Baron can see that the remaining champions are more interested in defending their friends than fighting, which makes him laugh until tears fall down his cheeks.
“That is why you should fight alone!” he bellows, making sure everyone in the city can hear him. The immortal claps his hands and dissolves the remaining phantoms, their bodies drifting into the sky to create clouds of dust. “Yes, they give you power, but they are a liability. This is why all of you are so weak. Once these mortals entered this battle, they became my enemies and targets. Do you really want them to suffer the same fate as you?”
“Living a happy life after you’re nothing more than a fading memory sounds like a future I’d be happy to share,” Delvin states as he steps out from around a corner. He leans away from the lightning bolt, his new eye allowing him to see the blast coming before it is conjured. “Still, you do have a point though. It’s really time for those involved in the prophecy to stay and all others to leave. Besides, without your army, there’s no reason for our friends to remain. I’ll call for the evacuation and we can help out while you tend to other matters. It will be more entertaining to watch what happens from a safe distance anyway.”
“Is this when Nyx attacks my flank?” the Baron asks, turning around. He is mildly surprised to find that nobody is behind him, but a prickling sensation on the back of his neck gives him pause. “Just like when you arrived in Gaia and tricked me. I thought you would go through with it this time since I assume she has calmed down and is thinking straight. Unless I teleported her farther away than I planned. If so then I hope she returns soon. That way I can finish all of you off before the sun goes down.”
The sound of crunching footsteps comes from the Baron’s left, Nyx doing nothing to hide her presence. She calmly marches towards the immortal, who draws a sword and waits for her to unleash a spell. When she comes within range, he stabs at her heart, but the mundane weapon melts into a puddle at his feet. For the first time in centuries, the Baron starts to sweat and has to wipe at his brow with a handkerchief. He is unsure if it caused by the heat from all of the magic they have used or a primal fear that is gripping his body. Looking around, he sees that most of the other champions have disappeared from view and only Delvin remains.
“I assume you want to try again,” he whispers in a serpentine hiss. A forked tongue slides from his mouth to mock the channeler, but her expression never changes. “Do your best, little channeler. I will even tell you a secret. As long as I can see you, I will always be able to predict your moves and block them before they strike.”
Nyx stands still as a blast of wind knocks the Baron high above the city. “Nice blocking with your face! Let’s try this again!”
*****
The Baron crashes into the abandoned barracks before a flaming pillar explodes above his head and drives him into the sewers. Standing in the inferno, the immortal coughs up a drop of blood and massages his aching muscles. Leaping back into the sky, he hurls a swarm of lightning orbs at Nyx and teleports to hold her in place. The channeler disappears in a puff of blinding dust, which leaves the Baron exposed to his own attack. With the powerful bolts rippling through his body, he is sent tumbling back to the ground where a maw of polished metal erupts from the rubble. He quickly catches both jaws as they close, their serrated edges slicing into the man’s palms. Standing in the middle of the construct, Nyx stares at her enemy and batters him with fists of air that strike from every direction. The large mouth eventually breaks in half, which allows the warlord to drop towards the champion and land an acidic fist to the top o
f her head. A dense shield protects the half-elf from the deadly magic, but the physical force is enough to drive her to her knees. Unleashing a blast of crimson fire from her eyes, Nyx sends the immortal flying into a pile of rubble that was once a school.
“Casting without movements. It puts me at a disadvantage, but not one that will last,” the Baron announces while wiping the injuries off his body. Sidestepping a javelin of heat, he counters with a jet of water that is turned to vapor before it reaches its target. “I had a feeling you would be one of the most dangerous champions. Second only to my daughter, but she has already been taken care of. It is a shame that you are being used as a decoy. Everyone else is evacuating the armies while you keep me busy.”
“If that’s the plan you want to believe in then I won’t argue with you,” Nyx replies, ducking a blade of wind. She catches the spell as it comes back around, the keen edge cutting her hand. “I see you’re pushing through my defenses. Not enough to do more than a little nick. Honestly, I’ve had worse injuries from bar fights. Are you sure you want to try that spell? Not a horrible choice, but I have at least ten ways to turn it around on you.”
Pausing his incantation, the immortal licks his lips and stares into his enemy’s eyes. “You certainly have been focusing more on countering than attacking this time. There must be a trick behind your new strategy. I sense that a certain telepath is involved here. In that case, I will do what comes naturally. Think to my daughter that it was a nice try, but I cannot be fooled so easily.”
Transforming the wind blade into a prismatic arm of glass, the Baron has the construct lash out at Nyx and knock her into the air. The spell explodes into a swarm of shards that rocket toward the spinning half-elf, her arms crossed behind her back. A sonic blast bursts from her lips to shatter the projectiles before her attack shrinks to the size of a pea. With a gale sending the colorful sand into the Baron’s face, he is unable to avoid the compacted spell as it falls into his left ear. He screams in agony as his brain is assaulted by a laughing shriek that reverberates throughout his skull. Falling to his hands and knees, the immortal looks up to see that the only thing he has done to Nyx is bruise her chin and tear a fresh hole in her sleeve. Yanking the sonic spell out of his head, the Baron throws it back and curses when the channeler casually crushes it in her fist.
Warlord of the Forgotten Age Page 33
