The Blade Guardian

by Darren Hultberg Jr

  “And why’s that?” Zeb asked, feigning concern.

  “Because I’m tired of thieves, tired of chasing people and so damn tired of being interrupted!” With that, I leapt at the trio, nevermore forming in my grasp.

  ><><

  I was unarmored and outnumbered, but this wasn’t a fight that I could run from... that just meant I had to fight smart. I was going to get to the other side of that door.

  My eyes scanned the area as I rapidly approached the trio, all the while putting a quick battle plan together in my head. Then without hesitation, I acted.

  I dashed forward into the half-ogre’s reach, causing the beastly man to take an errant swing at my head. Just as his fist came down, I shadowshifted behind Burnes, the weaker of the rogues positioned to the right. The men seemed to blink in confusion as my body phased away… Clearly, my quick displacement had thrown the thieves off, giving me just the opening I needed.

  Before Burnes could turn, I gripped the hilt of nevermore in both hands and swung downward with all my might. The flat of the blade connected with his ankle, sweeping his legs with tremendous force and rotating the man 180 degrees in the air. His body hung there for less than a second before crashing into the ground, putting all of his weight into his head as it smashed into the stone floor. His skull made a sickening thud as his body went limp and the once full health reticle drastically shortened. Without hesitating, I stabbed the blade downward into the man’s chest, eliminating the remainder of his meager hit points. One down, three to go.

  The half-ogre got his bearings and turned to his left, yanking what appeared to be an oversized butcher’s knife from his belt. The edge was chipped, and signs of rust showed on the dull metal, but I was still quite certain that he could cleave an ox in half with that thing, much less my unarmored body.

  Before the half-ogre could land a proper strike, I shadowshifted again, this time phasing to the opposite side of the hall behind Zeb. Zeb seemed more prepared for my arrival, and quickly slashed his sword at my neck.

  Acting purely on instinct, I swung nevermore high, deflecting the man’s attack away before immediately throwing a knee into his gut. The thief tried to back away as he struggled to suck in air, but a quick foot stomp held him in place, just in range for my next strike.

  Still reeling from the knee, Zeb was barely able to bring his blade up as I brought nevermore back in, slashing downward and opening a gruesome wound on Zeb’s chest. The rogue clutched his grievous wound as his health reticle dwindled, eyeing me with fear before stumbling to the stone floor in a gurgling heap.

  Amidst the battle I spotted Razyr and Kord tangling with the thief that had approached from the opposite hall. Kord had used his long tongue to entangle the man’s wrists, while Razyr bit down on the back of his neck. With the half-ogre quickly approaching and time running short, I opened my palm and let loose my lone projectile spell to give them a hand.

  Shadow Spike

  The slayer manifests a sharp spike of shadow energy in his hand that he can launch at his target with high velocity. At high levels, this spike can pierce medium-grade armor.

  My shadow spike traveled across the room at blinding speed, stabbing into the man’s right eye and eliciting a howl of pain as he crashed to the stone. It didn’t kill him, but it certainly gave my familiars the edge that they needed. Damn, I was almost beginning to regret not using that skill more often... it was effective!

  My eyes reverted back to the half-ogre just in time to avoid another swing of his rusty butcher’s blade.

  “Puny man! Stay still!” he yelled, his barbaric eyes filled with rage as he continued his pursuit.

  Again, and again he swung the blade, forcing me to duck and dodge as we danced across the room. He was higher level and judging by his size, he likely possessed insurmountable strength. Hell, if it wasn’t for my superior dexterity, I would’ve damn well been cut in two!

  The half-ogre grew angry and chopped away with a powerful overhead strike, missing my quick-moving form and overcompensating in the process. I capitalized on the brute’s overextension, dashing in past his defenses and stabbing nevermore into his side with all of my might.

  His health reticle barely diminished.

  “Weak!” Bruno the half-ogre yelled before using his bulbous free fist to backhand me across the room. My body slammed into the nearby wall, momentarily blurring my vision as my HP dwindled by 20. Dammit all, was this guy ever strong!

  “Razyr, I need you!” I yelled instinctively, unable to take my eyes off the charging half-ogre.

  “A little busy, Zander,” the drake replied, clearly still struggling with the lone rogue on the opposite side of the room. Looks like it was just me and Salence.

  My mind raced as I cycled through my remaining skills, searching for something, anything that might give me an edge. The brute had already absorbed a direct blow to the side and had barely seemed affected, and I didn’t have all damn day to try and pick him apart... it was time to unleash death’s embrace.

  Death’s Embrace

  The slayer draws residual dark power from his recent kills, creating a deadly aura that briefly increases the slayer’s combat effectiveness. This skill uses the remainder of the slayer’s mana pool.

  My mana pool emptied as dark energy cascaded over my body, an energy created from the very essence of death that permeated the room. My eyes turned a milky white as my muscles tightened and death’s embrace took its hold. My mind was clear, and my focus was singular... the brute in front of me had to die by my hand.

  I launched myself at Bruno the half-ogre, reaching down and scooping up Zeb’s discarded sword without losing a step. With a borrowed blade now in my left and nevermore in my right, I launched myself at the brute.

  Bruno grinned as I darted within his attack range, swinging his cleaver in a wide horizontal arc. Normally, the well-placed strike would’ve halted my approach, but this time was different. I watched as the blade slowly approached my chest, eyeing the attack as if I was watching it occur in slow motion... I could easily predict the blade’s path, could see the exact point of contact where the sharp metal would meet my flesh. Clearly the aura provided by death’s embrace had pushed my battle senses to an entirely different level.

  I leaped over Bruno’s swinging blade with ease, landing at his side before going to work with a series of vicious slashes. Each strike diminished only a small amount of the half-ogre’s HP, but it was a fact… lose enough blood and even the toughest of foes would drop.

  Bruno swung his cleaver back in the opposite direction, this time taking aim at my neck. Again, I avoided the blow with an effortless dodge before slashing away at his chest with profound speed.

  “Damn you!” Bruno roared as he stumbled back on his heels, blood leaking from at least a dozen different cuts on his body. His HP was dwindling fast from his numerous sword wounds, not to mention his growing frustration with his inability to hit me... the tides had turned.

  Steeling himself, Bruno hoisted his cleaver into the air with both hands, then slammed the oversized butcher’s blade down in my direction, an attack that sought to end me for good... Unfortunately for him, it would be the last attack he’d be making.

  Pushing my dexterity to its limit, I leaped into the air, dodging the sharp steel by less than an inch before landing atop the sword. I dashed across the edge of the blade before launching myself into a deadly assault. I stabbed nevermore into Bruno’s neck twice with a double strike, piercing his tough flesh with ease and showering the wall behind him with crimson lifeblood. The ogre’s eyes went wide as he peered into my gaze and saw death… he knew the end had come.

  Before he could react, I brought Zeb’s blade in with mighty force, slashing across the neck and lopping the half-ogre’s head off with one final swing.

  Bruno’s massive body remained standing for several seconds as blood continued to flow from his headless form, like a fountain of carnage amidst a room of dead thieves. Then, as if his soul had finally given up,
the brute’s body collapsed to the floor and experience points showered me like tiny glints of light.

  +2,000 exp. gained

  Congratulations! You have reached level 32!

  +1 skill point acquired

  +2 attribute points acquired

  “Excellent work,” Salence’s words echoed in my head due to our bond. “Our bond is growing quickly… soon a full battlebond is likely.”

  I smiled at the notion, eager to see what kind of abilities the dragon sprite had to offer. But for now, I was just thankful that his Aether was helping to counteract my post-fight adrenaline dump. If not for that, I may very well have been laid out on the floor alongside Bruno!

  “A bit... messy, Zander.” Razyr said as he took a look at the headless half-ogre at my side. The thief that he and Kord had been dealing with now lay unconscious on the floor, various bite and claw marks covering his arms and face.

  “Hey, they started it,” I replied, calling he and Kord back to my side. With the small group of thieves now indisposed, I turned to the large set of metal doors that housed my target before giving my familiars a nod. “Let’s go get our Hilda back.”

  Razyr shot me a concerned look. “Should we allow your... mana to recharge some?”

  “No time,” I replied. “Just be ready to lend me your strength if I need it.” I then turned to my amphibious nature familiar. “Kord, go back to the tavern and find Dad and Tham, and bring them and whoever else you can down here. We might need their help… Who knows how many thieves are crawling around this damn place.”

  Kord nodded before letting out a defiant croak. Then, without so much as a pause, he began hopping his way back down the hall.

  I watched the familiar ‘til he disappeared from view, then promptly turned and stabbed nevermore into the crease of the doors, working the blade furiously as I tried desperately to pry them apart.

  In seconds, the iron slab swung open revealing a large room where a myriad of unfamiliar gazes came to rest on me.

  Then I heard the voice... “Well, what do we have here?”

  16

  The Sprite Hunter

  I’m not sure what I expected when I pried open those iron doors, but it surely wasn’t this. A long, rectangular stone room sat before me with a wide, oaken table taking up most of the room’s center. Five chairs lined either side of the table where a rather interesting group of people sat, some wearing looks of amusement while others bore scowls.

  Each person at the table carried a look of refinement to them, with their pressed coats and darkened leathers, though the looks in their eyes betrayed them. This wasn’t some group of convening nobles… No, this was a table of killers.

  And then there was the man at the table’s head.

  Dressed in all black, the man sat back in his oversized chair, eyeing me with a look of blatant superiority. Long, blonde hair rested beyond his shoulders, a finely crafted eyepatch resting over his left eye. Like the others, he was clean and well-composed, but judging by the clear muscle definition beneath his clothes, I could tell this man was a fighter. I gave him a quick inspection.

  Cryox

  Lvl 40 Rogue

  Though I didn’t spot any weapons on him, I had to assume he was formidable. After a few seconds of staring me down, he grinned before spouting, “Well, what do we have here?”

  I stiffened, not particularly fond of the tone the man was using. From the way he spoke, it was almost as if he was sizing me up, as if he was trying to gauge my reaction.

  My thoughts raced as I quickly tried to formulate a response. One wrong move and I could have the entire table descending on me… and I knew there was no way I could take them all down at once. So, rather than get myself caught in a lie, I went with a direct approach. “I was chasing someone down here… a man in possession of my sword that belonged to my… girlfriend. I need him to find out where she is and I need her sword back.”

  A few of the people at the table gasped, while others let out a chuckle. One woman even turned and said, “Cryox, just kill him now.”

  But Cryox did no such thing. Instead, he rose from his oversized chair, revealing a long, black leather coat that hung below the tops of his boots. “Come now. I can’t merely kill the boy, Sentra... not when he has the gull to walk in here all by his lonesome.”

  The woman rolled her eyes before sitting back in her chair and adjusting the silver blade that held her hair in a bun. Cryox shot the woman a wry grin, then re-centered his attention on me, grinning in a way that I almost found unsettling. “So, you’ve come down here searching my halls because you believe that I may have taken your girl captive? Ah, yes… What was her name… Hilda?”

  My muscles tensed as the words left his mouth. This arrogant bastard was toying with me. “I never said her name,” I replied, knuckles white as I gripped my blade.

  “Ah, and so you didn’t,” he replied as he casually pushed in his chair. “You know, you really should be proud to have a woman like that. She is as tough as nails.”

  “What have you done to her!?” I shouted, more than ready to lunge across the table.

  “Now don’t get angry,” he said, raising a slender hand in protest. “All that I wanted from her was that familiar of hers… nothing more. She is the stubborn one that kept it bottled up inside that pretty little body.”

  “Don’t you dare talk about her!” I growled, taking another step towards the table. “If I find out that you harmed either her or Ivan…” My hands were shaking at this point, and the grins on the faces of some of the onlookers had faded.

  Cryox’s arrogant grin remained firm. “I didn’t hurt your girl too bad…. But I can’t promise the same once I get my hands on her familiar…. Or yours, for that matter.” As he spoke, the man unbuckled his sleeve and raised his right hand into the air, allowing the leather to sink down towards his elbow and revealing a shiny gold bracer. The metal clasped to his arm tightly, causing a redness to form on his normally pale skin. Socketed into the item were several multicolored gems, each of them glinting with light, as if hidden energy lay stored beneath the surface. I curiously inspected the bracer and…

  Suddenly, a jarring surge of anger assaulted my emotions as Salence reacted to the sight before us, his draconic rage flowing through me just like the blood in my veins.

  That bracer! he growled. My… my brethren!

  What do you mean? I responded.

  He’s a hunter! He killed them! He killed sprites and sealed their power in that bracer of his!

  My eyes widened as Salence forced the knowledge into my mind. A group of men that hunted down familiars and harvested their power for personal use… “Gods, no….” I stammered as I studied Cryox’s shimmering bracer. The man seemed so pleased, so enamored with the artifact.

  “Sadly, yes,” Cryox replied, resting his arm back at his side but leaving his leather sleeve rolled up. “I don’t enjoy killing sprites,” he went on with a matter-of-fact tone. “I really don’t… But unfortunately, we are bound to a world that doesn’t always offer us the greatest of choices. You and your girlfriend were granted power by your sprites, your familiars… you were given an advantage that I and many others were not afforded. I had to find a way to even the score.”

  “By killing people’s familiars and taking their power?” I shouted back, my anger once again bolstered by Salence’s draconic rage. “Those familiars you killed… they were living beings… creatures whose bonds you’ve now broken!”

  “It had to be done… I refute weakness, just as this world refuted me.” Cryox grabbed onto the collar of his coat and gave it a slight tug. “Now, if we’re done with the pleasantries, I’ll take that drake off your hands and perhaps we can see about setting that girlfriend of yours free.”

  I turned my gaze to Razyr, who for once held a look of fear in his eyes. This bastard Cryox wanted to kill him, wanted to end our bond and abuse him for his own convoluted purposes, all the while dangling Hilda’s freedom in front of me like some sort of sick prize…
No, I had to do something… He wasn’t planning on releasing her… that burden now rested on my shoulders.

  “Razyr, to me,” I commanded, reaching out my hand as the valor familiar took the form of the drake sword. With him safely in my grasp, I settled my gaze back on Cryox. “You can’t have him if I absorb his Aether into my body,” I said defiantly as I walked right up to the edge of the table.

  “Then you’ll never see your girlfriend again,” Cryox shot back, though I had already anticipated such a response.

  I nodded. “Then perhaps a duel to settle things?”

  “A duel?” the man responded, clearly intrigued.

  I spoke defiantly, pushing out any inkling of fear that had tried to ease its way into my mind. “I wager my drake sword, and you wager the keys to whatever cage you have Hilda in. I’m certain you can find a way to harvest my familiar’s power, even if he is in blade form.”

  Cryox let out a devilish grin. “And you’re certain that if you win, I won’t just have my men here kill you?”

  I took a look around at the hardened faces sitting around the table before meeting his gaze once more. “Perhaps I still believe in a thief’s honor.”

  Cryox merely shrugged. “I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?”

  Suddenly, Cryox leaped onto the table as a golden aura of light encircled the area, forcing the others to back away. In the air, a tiny winged dueling sprite formed as a notification popped up in my field of view.

  Cryox has challenged you to a duel

  Accept / Deny

  I graciously accepted the man’s invitation before leaping onto the opposite end of the table, drake sword in hand. In my other, I re-forged nevermore from shadow before crossing the blades in front of me as I fell into a battle-ready stance.