by Kyle J Cisco
Suddenly the demon leaped forward, drawing an ancient great sword in one hand and a broadsword in the other. This already showed incredible strength for the great sword was way too hefty for one hand to wield. Striking with both in a downward cut, he lunged, but Virgil backflipped, completely avoiding the blows. Then the Ripper was on him again, loosing a flurry of blows all in a sequence of high and low attacks mixed with feints. Virgil kept focused, dodging or parrying each blow, throwing in some counter strikes where possible, but slowly giving ground to his foe.
Releasing a burst of energy that Virgil hoped would catch his assailant by surprise, Virgil groaned as it was met by a blast of black energy, making all of the nearby pillars shatter. Scared for Natasha, Virgil broke his concentration for only a moment to see that she was still fighting the final specter. That gave him some comfort till the blade of the broadsword struck home, ripping into the flesh of his left arm, causing the battle-ax to fall from his limp grasp.
The biting pain flared and Virgil, screaming in agony, released a deep red burst, throwing the Ripper back a few steps. Virgil thought that surely Xavier would have heard the sounds of combat and would have the time to complete the ritual by now.
Moving to capitalize on the blow he had struck, Virgil ran up and swung with an overhand blow meant for his opponent’s head, only to feel the burn of a sword piercing his thigh. Staggering down to one knee, Virgil countered another blow from the great sword when a metal boot smashed into his face, laying him out on the stone floor. Dazed, and with stars lingering in his field of vision, thoughts of his death came to his mind.
Rex. His death would be meaningless unless Virgil completed the mission. Willing himself back to his feet, he took a blow to the chest that knocked the wind from his lungs, doubling him over once more. On all fours, he gasped for air. A boot slammed into the right side of his rib cage, crushing the air from his chests again. The blow flipped Virgil once; he landed hard on his back, looking up at the darkened ceiling of the hall.
Pain flooding all of Virgil’s senses. Looking to his right, he found his mace laying dormant. He reached for it fast, but not fast enough. A metal foot crunched his left hand, fingers snapped as the boot ground back and forth. Roiling in pain once more, he laid his hands at his side, grasping his hand in a tight fist, putting pressure on the broken fingers. A hand reached around his neck and hoisted him into the air.
“My most valuable kill to date. Thought you would be more of a challenge.”
Blood flowed into Virgil’s eyes, obscuring the face of the Ripper into a hazy red and black figure.
Virgil hit the floor, unaware of what had just happened. He struggled to wipe the blood from his eyes. Once his vision cleared, he saw the two bolts sticking from the thick plate armor of the Ripper. Stumbling toward his mace, he hefted it into his hand, and then his balled-up fist was engulfed in illuminating white light. Suddenly the pain subsided, allowing Virgil to draw and hold the dagger at his waist with his mangled fingers.
Charging in, he shouldered the Ripper, knocking him off balance and sending him tripping over the steps of the rise. Virgil took the moment to catch some breath, and gathered all his rage and channelled it into the head of the mace, then swung with both weapons in rapid succession, making sure he caught his foe with the stinging dagger as often as possible. But the advantage would not last forever. The Ripper held up his great sword, and Virgil smashed down on it with the mace, smashing the great sword into several thousand pieces on the ground. The Ripper savagely kicked Virgil’s ribs again, staggering him back once more, allowing him to regain his footing.
“Now we end this, blood of no one special.” The Ripper’s words dripped with the scorn of the mention of the once great Dvorak. “Say goodbye to this world.”
“Today is not the day I fall, demon,” Virgil retorted, and both foes clashed again. Their weapons entangled, Virgil shoved with all his might to break the stalemate, and when he did, he struck through the pain with his dagger, managing to drive it deep into the Ripper’s leg. A thick, dark blue blood ran from the wound, something that Virgil had never seen before. This must be a demon, for sure. Virgil pushed his advantage once more but was once again locked in stalemate with the Ripper.
A knife-strike from Natasha—the Ripper screamed. It wrenched away to slash at the ranger, but Virgil snagged his legs out from under him with a red tendril. Pulling with all the strength he could muster, he dragged the Ripper closer. Reaching out his hand, he called forth another blast of red energy, this time in the same manner that had disintegrated the other goblins in the chamber.
The Ripper threw up a shield of black energy just as the red energy singed the front of his plate and lower jaw, peeling the skin away from his lipless face, revealing the tendons in the thing’s face. Blood covered his mouth, making him look as if he had mashed his face into a bowl of blueberries.
It rose back to its feet with the help of the black energy. “You need women to fight for you? Are you not the blood of the great Dvorak?”
The Ripper started walking casually toward Virgil again. Natasha poised for a strike at the Ripper’s back but was thwarted by the simple wave of his hand. With her not having magical abilities, there was nothing she could do to defend against the force that swatted her from the air. Landing hard, she groaned as she tried to will her sore body back to her feet.
“You have already tapped into the maelstrom that will lead you to the Darkness. Come with me, and I can show you more then you will ever believe is possible.” The Ripper held out his wrinkled, deformed hand. The talon-like nails were yellow with decay. And he beckoned Virgil to join him.
Virgil blinked, surprised that the Ripper thought that he would be able to turn Virgil after all he had been through over the past few days.
“You think you will tempt me to your side now? Really? I will bring an end to the Darkness forever, just as Dvorak tried to do. But I shall complete his work,” he said.
The Ripper cocked his head to one side, like a dog hearing a strange sound. Then he charged, loosing a burst of dark energy that caught Virgil and Natasha unaware, knocking them both to the ground once more. Virgil covered his body with the mace, then realized in a sudden panic he was not the target of the attacks this time. Rolling over, he stretched his hand toward Natasha. “You are mine to protect.”
A blue aura surrounded Natasha’s body and the heavy strike from the broadsword bounced from the surface of protection he had thrown up the moment before the blow fell. It knocked the Ripper back a step, allowing enough time for Virgil to get up from the ground and charge at the Ripper full force, dagger and mace both swinging in from different angles. The dagger dug deep under the shoulder plating of the Ripper’s right shoulder plate, eliciting a scream, while the mace caught on the blade of the broadsword.
Virgil ripped the blade out from under the shoulder plate, taking the plate of armor with it. Streaking across the room came Natasha’s second dagger, driving deep into the now unarmored shoulder of the Ripper. Then Virgil ducked the broadsword and struck low; the crunch of the Ripper’s kneecap shattering was music to Virgil’s ears. Standing over the fallen foe, he lowered his mace to the still shrouded face, using the mace to remove the crown.
The sight below the crown was horrific. The whole upper face had been burnt off long before. The skin looked as though it once tried to grow back but gave up halfway through the process, leaving large areas uncovered, muscles and blood vessels pulsing below.
“I pity you, Ripper, I truly do, but I have my duty, and that will always lie in protecting the Order and all of mankind.”
Swinging down, he smashed into the Ripper’s head with the handle of the mace. It made a large thud. The head then bounced off the stone floor and landed back on the floor. The rest of the Ripper lay motionless on the floor.
Virgil turned back to the door leading to where they would finally have to fight Xavier. Virgil could feel the fear welling up in him but was willing to do whatever it took to ma
ke sure that the ritual would not go as planned. He placed a trembling hand upon the huge brass door and pushed the door open. Its immense size made the hinges moan under the stress of movement.
“I must do this alone. Can you watch the door and make sure no reinforcements come up on us?”
Virgil did not wait for Natasha’s answer but instead took his first step into the dim cavern beyond the threshold of the doorway.
19
Virgil glimpsed movement to his right. He jerked his neck in the direction, seeing it was but his shadow dancing on the wall. Numerous torches flickered but did little to illuminate the vastness of the dark cavern. The stench of death hung in the air; water dripped from stalactites dangling from the ceiling. The cavern seemed to stretch on into gloomy oblivion, and Dvorak’s words echoed through Virgil’s mind, You are the Light bringer, Virgil, and you will bring light to the dark places of the world. Do not give up hope.
With that hope, he pushed forward. His glowing pendant gave him just enough light to illuminate the path before his feet. Putting the dagger in his left hand back into his belt, he gripped the binding of the Codex of Light hanging from the chest piece of his leather armor, something he had seen Rex do many times. He didn’t know whether he did it instinctually after watching Rex for so long or because of the relaxing sensation he got from touching the book.
Navigating the cavern was tedious and slow going, but the farther he got, the more light he could see coming from deep within the cavern. He wished now he had not left Natasha behind. It seemed as though he had been walking forever by the time he reached the source of the light at what he thought was the end of the cavern.
“So glad you could make it, my boy.” Xavier turned from the great opening in the floor to face Virgil. “Are you ready to start your training?”
“You guys sure are unoriginal. Always looking to recruit from the other team. Well, I’ll tell you what I told the last rotting bag of bones—I will never join you or the Darkness. I am the Second Light bringer, the heir of Dvorak!” The words echoed off the cavern walls, reverberating like a tremendous burst of thunder rolling through a valley.
The words gave Virgil the energy to forget his wounds that still leaked blood down the side of his armor and leg. Virgil engulfed his mentor’s mace in the flaming red energy of the rage he felt for the man who murdered Rex, the one who doomed him to a life of solitude as the only surviving chaplain.
“I will have my vengeance for Rex!”
Another thunderous echoed rippled through the cavern’s interior. Xavier drew his blade of the Elders, conjuring the sword once more with purple energy. “You really think you can beat me if Rex could not? How foolish. You are young, and the young must learn the hard way.” He lifted the sword point in a sign of challenge.
Virgil hefted the mace in a two-handed grip and looked within himself. The Light faded, giving way to a molten rage. Opening his eyes to the sound of footsteps, he dropped to a one-handed grip on the mace and outstretched a tendril of blood-red energy toward Xavier. He severed the tendril with one slice from his blade and continued his charge without skipping a beat.
Virgil swung first, forcing Xavier to stop right before him and intercept the blow on his blade of energy. While positioning to block, Virgil threw forth his hand, but nothing happened. Virgil’s stamina was depleted from the previous battles. His magic was gone. Screaming, he swung with the mace and caught Xavier in the chest, forcing the air from his lungs.
Xavier doubled over. Virgil jerked up his knee, slamming Xavier’s face and throwing him off his feet. Xavier rolled and swung with his sword, trying to cut Virgil’s legs from under him. Virgil jumped and the blade swished by, but Xavier let loose a blast of his own, flinging Virgil into one of the nearby stalactites. It cracked with the force of Virgil’s sudden impact. Dropping to the floor, Virgil put a hand out and encased himself into a protective shell, lessening the fall to the hard floor of the cavern.
Virgil looked across the way to where Xavier stood, already bloodied. “Is that all you’ve got?” Virgil said, motioning with his pointer finger to come to him once more. “Let’s end this.”
“You dare to mock your betters, boy? For that, your end will be slow.”
Xavier’s glance shifted to behind Virgil, and then he heard the footsteps. It was Natasha, and the sight of her brought a flooding of relief that instantly went cold. The Ripper also appeared from the same shadow Natasha had. Another lump of a bruise marked her beautiful face. Despair washed over Virgil’s senses.
“This does make things interesting, does it not?” Xavier clapped his hands together in praise.
Xavier waved a hand, and Natasha and the Ripper came forward. The Ripper kicked the back of Natasha’s legs, making her drop to her knees before him.
Grabbing a swathe of Natasha’s thick, black hair, Xavier pulled her around to face Virgil. The hilt in his hand glowed purple as the blade from the ancient weapon emerged once more. He raised the blade to within an inch of her throat.
“I sense you have strong feelings for this one.”
The hilt smashed hard into the side of Natasha’s head, and on her hands and knees, blood leaked out from her mouth.
Inflamed with rage, Virgil made a move toward Xavier but stopped when the blade once more hovered near her exposed throat.
“I would not do that.”
Natasha popped up, knocking the blade away at the hilt with one hand and landing a savage punch to Xavier’s groin with the other. Doubling over, she rolled and side-kicked Xavier in the face. Then she somersaulted backward to land standing at Virgil’s side.
“Sorry for getting caught, Virgil.”
“Don’t be. I’m just glad that you’re not dead,” he said, tossing her his daggers.
Xavier, finally catching his breath, hissed, “You will pay dearly for that, bitch!”
He leaped at her, sword ready to drive straight through her chest, but Virgil shouldered him mid-air, dropping his mace in the process but knocking the blade from Xavier’s hand as well.
Rolling on the ground, the two tangled with each other, punching, clawing, kicking. They broke apart—Xavier trying to crawl on hands and knees toward the hilt that lay on the ground. Virgil jumped to his feet and kicked the side of Xavier’s head, throwing him onto his back from the force of the blow.
A burst of purple energy rocked Virgil, throwing him backwards, but he landed on his feet. His hands glowed with red energy again and the two men met, punching one another with energized hands. They seemed evenly matched, with each one blocking the other’s blows. Where their fists grappled, the air crackled with burgundy energy.
Virgil tossed Xavier onto the ground and fired a tendril of energy, but it sizzled on the stone as Xavier rolled out of the way. Beyond him, Natasha was backed up against a pillar, defending herself from blow after blow from the Ripper. Virgil shot a tendril at him, striking his back and pushing him into the nearby wall, relieving Natasha from the onslaught if only for a moment.
Pain shot through Virgil’s nervous system from his lower back. A smoking gash appeared in his armor; the acrid stench of burning flesh hit his nose as waves of pain radiated from his back. He spun around to defend once more but was too late—a fist of purple struck him, knocking him to the floor. Vicious kicks pummeled his cracked rib cage. Through the assault, he was able to grab hold of a foot, twisting it in such a nature he could hear the pop of tendons coming out of place.
Xavier dropped to the ground once more. Groaning with his own pain, Virgil managed to get on top of Xavier, throwing punch after punch into the other man’s face. The blood-covered floor of the cavern was a sign that Virgil was doing some major damage to his foe’s face.
Then Xavier’s head contacted with Virgil’s chin with a crack. Knocking Virgil off of him, he regained the fallen hilt and went for a thrust at Virgil who by this time was standing—but unarmed. He had nothing but his hand to use to block the blow. Left hand glowing red, he faced the racing blade—and
it stopped. Xavier threw in his weight. Fire lanced Virgil’s palm. The energy mixing made a sizzling noise as the blade drove slowly into his hand, but the prolonged contact with the red energy coming from Virgil’s hand was starting to make the blade look as though it was peeling, shredding, burning off in chunks, and falling to the floor in a pile of ash.
Hand screaming in pain—every nerve ending ablaze in agony—Virgil gathered what force he could spare while still holding the ancient weapon at bay. He gripped the Codex in his right hand, then shot a tendril of energy at Xavier’s leg. Xavier screamed, dropping the hilt and grabbing his leg. The air stunk of burnt flesh and hair. Virgil made it back to where the mace had fallen, noting that Natasha had the Ripper on the run now with a flurry of blows coming in from both daggers he had given to her.
Walking toward his prey still clinging to the burnt leg, Virgil was determined to kill Xavier with the mace that was once Rex’s. Reaching out through a tendril of red, he lifted Xavier up and began reeling him toward him. A shriek of pain sounded through the cavern from behind Virgil. Losing his concentration, Xavier fell to the floor with the tendril fading. Virgil turned, knowing already where the source of agony came from. His face changed from the hard look of a killer when he saw the Ripper standing over Natasha. Bloody hands covered the wound to her stomach through the thin leather armor she was wearing.
The Ripper casually stepping over her, making his way toward Virgil. Gripping the mace in his hand tighter than he ever had, with a mix of sorrow and rage, he charged the demon, throwing blow after savage blow. Parrying the blows went on for a while but when the defenses fell, he struck out with a red-glowing hand of energy, slamming his fist in the burnt and disfigured face of the Ripper. Virgil lifted the mace above his foe—and a blast of purple energy ripped through his hand, leaving a smoking hole in his palm. He dropped the weapon. No blood came from the already cauterized wound in his hand. Grabbing his hand with the other, he fell to his knees. The Ripper turned and drug Natasha by one her legs next to Virgil, who was still clutching his half of a hand.
