Crimson Blade

by Corey Soreff

  As the two warriors were about to close in on him, Marcovius raised his hand. Without one word of magic, an unseen force launched Jarec and Grymmbeard off their feet. They flew ten feet backwards, landing on their backs. "I've heard of your prowess, my powerful little friends. But how strong are you if you can't get close to your opponent?""

  Cursing, they stood again and charged. And again, they were thrown away.

  Marcovius was serious and battle hardened, he would not stop to brag. Sweeping his arm in an arc, Jarec was lifted off the ground and tossed into the distance, high into the air. Landing a hundred yards away after falling from a great height, all that could be heard was a crunching sound as his body landed in a twisted heap.

  Grymmbeard roared in fury, pulling himself to his feet and squeezing his axe. "Jarec!" He screamed. Grymmbeard turned and glared at Marcovius. "I'm going to kill you for that." His God's gift must be some sort of ability to control things with his mind.

  "Now with your friend out of the way, I don't need to worry about fighting two of the world's strongest warriors at once. Come at me dwarf, let's see what you've got." Marcovius spoke with confidence. Even if he believed he could have defeated both of them without his God's gift, he was simply too smart to try it.

  Grymmbeard took the bait, dashing right at the General. He slashed downwards with his battleaxe using his right hand, aiming for the General's right shoulder. Marcovius spun to the right, and the attack soared by him harmlessly. But anticipating the dodge, immediately after swinging Grymmbeard used his free left arm to jump up and elbow Marcovius in the noise.

  Marcovius staggered back. "Just as I'd expect from a Crimson Blade, an attack within an attack."

  "Within an attack!" Grymmbeard yelled as he spun around once, then hurled his battleaxe with all his body weight right at the General's midsection.

  The General's first instinct was to use his telekinesis to knock the axe away, but he had resolved to a fair fight. So Marcovius dropped to his knees and then as the axe was about to strike him, he swung his shield across and knocked it away, briefly stunned by the impact. Then he returned his shield to its normal position, he was surprised by a stout dwarf plowing into him, blasting him off his feet.

  "Within an attack!" The dwarf yelled again. Grymmbeard fell on top of Marcovius, and began raining down punches on the General's face. The shield had been knocked from his hands and the General held his arms in front of him, defending his face as best he could, and wrapping his legs around the dwarf to restrict his movement. Then Grymmbeard reached forward through his guard, and grabbed him by the sides of the head. Simultaneously pulling the General's face upwards, and his own head downwards, he rocked the General with a powerful head butt in the face. Marcovius's head crashed back into the ground, and dizziness rattled him. Blood poured like a stream from the General's nose.

  Grymmbeard reached into his boot and pulled out a hidden dagger, ready to end the fight immediately. "When ye be rotting in the abyss, ye'll be wishing ye used yer fancy tricks." He raised the dagger with his right hand, preparing to strike downwards and avenge Jarec. Half expecting Marcovius to use his telekinesis to survive, Grymmbeard was surprised when he didn't.

  Instead, Marcovius's legs shot upwards. His right leg wrapped around Grymmbeard's head, and his left leg went around the arm that was raised with the dagger. he locked his right leg into his left, and began squeezing. Grymmbeard's arm was being forced into his neck and head, and the other side of his neck being choked by the other leg.

  Choking, the dagger fell from Grymmbeard's hand as his strength left him. Oxygen was no longer flowing through his lungs, and his blood had stopped flowing to his brain. With every passing second the world got a little darker.

  "A trick I learned from the elves, they have some interesting fighting methods." Marcovius said with a smirk.

  Grymmbeard fell unconscious, toppling over Marcovius and passing out on the ground beside him.

  "Well fought, Grymmbeard of the Crimson Blade. I will remember your courage," Marcovius promised. He finally drew his sword, and stood over Grymmbeard's unknowing body.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Pain of Loss

  Just as Marcovius began his descending attack to finish off the dwarf, he stopped mid-swing and rolled away as a dagger flew by his face. As he finished his tumble, he crouched with one knee on the ground. Staring at the newcomer, he smiled. "Resilient, aren't you?"

  "Get…away…from Grymm," said Jarec, as he approached while unsheathing his scimitars.

  "I am quite interested in knowing how one survives such a fall," the General answered.

  "The same way one moves things without touching them or using magic," Jarec replied.

  "Fair enough." Marcovius stood, sword in hand. "So you wish to have a duel as well?"

  "I don't want a duel. I'm going to kill you," Jarec grinned. His scimitars glowed with violet radiance, as if they hungered for battle themselves.

  "Interesting, then I'll give you the same fair fight I gave your friend. No gifts," Marcovius offered. This was turning out to be a fun day.

  "Sorry, but I can't exactly control my…gift. If you win, cut my head off." Jarec smirked, then jumped forward at the General.

  Marcovius wondered at the statement, but didn't give it much thought. He picked his shield up off the ground, and dropped into his battle stance. Large emeralds shined brightly on the long hilt of his rare blade forged of black diamond, the sword was probably worth a castle.

  Jarec launched into a spinning dance as he fell from his high jump, and his left backhand swung his scimitar towards the left side of Marcovius's head. The attack was blocked easily by his shield. But while still in midair, Jarec used the shield to push off of slightly with his sword, and he spun to jab his other scimitar in through the opening above the shield. Straight down at the General's neck.

  Marcovius almost cut his own throat as he hastily speared his own blade through the space in between his neck and the shield to block the attack, but he succeeded. Finding himself in an awkward position, he had to gain some distance to reset his stance. He kicked forward with his right leg, but before it could connect Jarec planted his legs on his opponent's shield, and pushed off. Doing a back flip, he landed perfectly a yard away, already in stance.

  The stance didn't last long, for Jarec didn't intend to give up the offensive. He entered another dance, looking like an artist as he spun, wove, and bobbed in an elaborate serious of combinations.

  Marcovius found it difficult to spot an opening, with blades spinning past the man's body every moment at blinding speeds. He deflected each attacked as it came, whether with his sword or shield, but he couldn't help but realize if he kept defending like this, at least one of these fancy attacks would find its way through. And Marcovius simply wasn't going to let that happen. He had to take a chance. He wasn't as fast as his opponent, so Marcovius knew he had to close the distance. He could protect his upper body, and it wouldn't be too big a deal if he suffered a cut on his lower. His enemy wouldn't be able to perform a lunge.

  Resolving to the risk, Marcovius planted his feet hard into the ground, and pushed off. He threw all his body weight into his shield arm, and performed a powerful shield bash. As expected, he hit one of the blades in mid-spin, and it flew from Jarec's hands landing a few paces away. Also as expected, the other scimitar swung in through the gap below, and cut him cleanly on the leg. A risk worth taking, for it was a minor wound that wouldn't affect his ability.

  And then it hit him. His vision blurred, and his legs shook. He found he no longer had the strength to hold his shield, and it fell to the ground. It took everything he had to keep his grip on his sword. "What…is this? Poison?" He grimaced, cursing himself for being so careless.

  "Fool General," Jared said. "Did you think opening up your legs would be a minor risk to get rid of one of my blades? You didn't think my scimitars glowed just to look pretty, did you?"

  The General's eyes shot to the blade in Jarec's hand
, and he could barely make out a purple tinge to them. This was where having no magical ability had finally bit him in the ass. If he had ever studied magic himself, even if he was not talented, he would have noticed the enchanted blades immediately. But the untrained eye doesn't pick up magic easily, and General Marcovius believed a man's strength lay in his sword arm.

  Jarec laughed. "Ah! I see, you didn't even notice. All the funnier. You should never take risks in battle General. Whether you knew if they were enchanted or not, like you said, they could have been poisoned. And now for your risk, you will die."

  "A small risk, for I have been exposed to poisons my whole life. I'm immune to most of them. And I have never heard of such an enchantment," He admitted. Marcovius still struggled to stand, it felt as if all his energy had been drained from him. He felt the urge to just tumble, and take a little nap.

  "Neither had I, until I was cut by these blades myself. Drow have interesting spells. Enough talking though, you tried to kill my friend, and now you die." Jarec stated flatly. He walked a few paces and retrieved his other scimitar, then turned and advanced on his enemy.

  Marcovius fell to his knees. "Shit. Unbelievable. Defeated by a minor cut."

  "Defeated by taking risks. If you took even the slightest risk against our leader, he'd have destroyed you in a heartbeat." Jarec said confidently. "Don't underestimate anyone. Goodbye, General."

  Marcovius closed his eyes, accepting his defeat. Well, I always wanted to die in battle. Sorry, Seth.

  Jarec was about to cut the General's throat, when hands clasped his own from behind. "What.." He began, and his hands froze to solid blocks of ice, along with his scimitars. He turned his head, and noticed two mages had materialized behind him. The ice on his hands advanced, continuing up to his shoulders, restricting all movement in his arms. The same mage that had grabbed him then calmly placed his hands on Jarec's feet, and similar blocks of ice formed locking him into place on the ground.

  Marcovius stood and shook his head in amusement. "You save your friend at the last minute, and now I'm saved at the last minute. How fitting. Let's see if you're saved this time." He felt his strength returning. He wasn't at full potential, but he felt he could fight again. The enchantment's effects must have a time limit.

  "Kiss my ass," Jarec returned. His arms and feet felt immensely cold, and he was beginning to go numb. This was not good. He looked at the two mages that had appeared, most likely both black mages from their ebony robes. Although that could just be since they served the Dark Legions. If they were black mages, it was peculiar one was able to create ice. Not many magus could cast from multiple schools of magic, and the only one he had ever met was Eucibous. Plus, it didn't seem as if he had even cast a spell. He spoke no words, he made no movements, he didn't even seem to concentrate. "More champions of the rotten dark pantheon, I presume?"

  The one who had created the ice went from an impassive face to an angry one. "You will not speak with disrespect when mentioning Lord Yodan. Or would you prefer an eternal sleep encased in ice over death?" Said Klotus.

  It looked as if the other mage was going to say something as well, but Marcovius stopped them. "Enough. Thanks for the rescue, Klotus, Talon. Although I do remember giving orders to summon you here ten minutes ago."

  "We came as soon as we could, General, I apologize." Said Talon, the second mage.

  His eyes were completely white, no color, no pupils. Could he even see, Jarec wondered?

  Klotus joined in. "There has been a most disturbing development. Our Lords don't know what happened to Sargath. He can't be found anywhere, and the mental links have been broken. Last we know, he was fighting Eucibous Dan'anti."

  Marcovius's eyes opened in wonder. "Did the Crimson Blade kill Sargath? Why wasn't I told he would be joining the fight?"

  Klotus shrugged. "We are still trying to discern his fate. Apparently Sargath decided to fight Eucibous on his own. He didn’t tell anyone he'd be doing this, including the Pantheon."

  Marcovius's thoughts raced through his head, putting everything together. If the Crimson Blade defeated Sargath….and we defeat the Crimson Blade….not only will we conquer the continent, we'll be free of Sargath too. This was almost too perfect.

  "Lord Optik tells me the Dark are planning for King Seth'nerak's ascent," stated Talon.

  "Seth's…ascent?" Marcovius asked.

  Talon nodded. "Of course. If Sargath has perished, his seat must be filled. Our Liche King will be a God, though he'd likely fill the bottom seat."

  "Herreleck would be bumped to first…," Klotus winced. "Since it's assumed Eucibous won't accept Sargath's seat at the top of the pantheon."

  Marcovius reached out to his own God, Xeraj, asking for confirmation of these statements.

  It is not guaranteed as of yet, we must discover the fate of Sargath first, Xeraj answered him telepathically.

  This was crazy, his best friend, a God? Marcovius chuckled.

  Xeraj spoke to him again. Stop wasting time. Finish off the two Blades.

  Marcovius turned his attention to the unconscious dwarf who, coincidentally, happened to be stirring back to consciousness. He dashed over to Grymmbeard immediately. Obeying his God, Marcovius looked down as the dwarf began to push himself off the ground, and he plunged his sword down through the back of Grymmbeard's neck. The dwarf's body convulsed, then went limp. But his upper body remained in the air, for the sword was holding him in place and the point was embedded in the soil.

  General Marcovius put his foot on Grymmbeard's head, clutched the handle of his sword, and kicked the dwarf off of his blade. Grymmbeard toppled to the ground, and Marcovius wiped his blade off with a cloth and starting walking over to Jarec.

  Jarec's eyes filled with rage and he screamed, the veins exploding out of his eyeballs. He flexed every muscle in his body in anger, sure that somehow, some way, he could break free from the ice with his fury. But it was to no avail, and he eventually dropped his head in dismay, and a tear rolled down his cheek. "Grymm…"

  "INCOMING!" Bellowed Talon. His previously blank white eyes were now rippled with an odd series of cracks and almost every color.

  Optik's gift was essentially superhuman vision. He not only saw everything he looked at, but everything he didn't look at. Within a certain radius, he had a one hundred percent field of vision. Surprise attacks were impossible with Talon around, and Marcovius was not one to doubt his ability.

  Marcovius quickly dropped to the ground, expecting an arrow to come at where he stood.

  "No, it's….!" Talon started, but too late as he began to warn his partner.

  Klotus was blasted off his feet, impaled by a large spear that seemed to come out of nowhere. He was carried through the air for several yards, until the spear pierced the ground, with the mage grasping at the spear in his chest in disbelief. Then the movement stopped and his body slumped, slowly sliding down the spear towards the ground.

  Landing next to Klotus's corpse was a man about six feet tall, adorned with a full set of decorated green leather armor. A green headband on his forehead, his dark hair lapsed over it. One hand carried a long jade halberd socketed with rubies and emeralds, most likely enchanted. His other hand was balled into a clenched fist as he faced the direction of Grymmbeard's body.

  "Stupid dwarf, I told you the General was mine…," Lok said in sadness.

  "So nice of you to come, Lok the Jade." Marcovius said. He was admiring Lok's halberd, and his ability to hurl that spear with such skill when it wasn't even the type of weapon he generally fought with.

  Lok didn't even turn to face him. "You're dead. You're fucking dead," he promised.

  Jarec had never seen Lok like this before. Usually Lok was the happy one of the group, always smiling and making jokes. But looking at Lok now, all he saw was a calm madness. Lok was serious. Marcovius was finished.

  Talon acted first. Figuring that Lok would attempt to save his comrade the first chance he had, they couldn't afford to be fighting the both of them
again. He began casting, whispering the words to an advanced spell that would take Jarec out of the equation. Dark energy revolved around him, and black magic flowed through his veins. "Drinker of blood, stealer of souls, devourer of dreams, destroyer of goals. Reaper! I summ…"

  And then Talon's head dropped to the ground…without the rest of his body. Lok stood behind him, his halberd extended as he ended his swing. Lok knew the spell, it would have ripped Jarec's soul from his body, dooming him to the abyss instead of wherever his soul would normally be sent. It was a cruel spell, for instead of just killing someone, you were sending them to eternal dismay as well. It was also a stupid spell, since it took more than a few seconds to cast. A few seconds too long when dealing with Lok. The body joined its head in the dirt.

  Marcovius's eyes narrowed as he realized the extent of Lok's skills. He had almost lost to both the dwarf and the swordsman, and Lok seemed to make those two look like squires. He hadn't even seen the man move, he was simply behind Talon in the blink of an eye. Just like that, two of his best spellcasters were gone. Without a fight. Does he have God-given speed? I thought only Herreleck gave such gifts. It made no sense. With all the intelligence available to him in the military, of course he knew Lok was one of the fastest men in the country. But Marcovius had a good eye, and to not even see a blur of movement? His only hope lay in the fact that he knew Lok was not a magic user, but against this speed, could he win? He would need to rely on his telekinesis, but he had to see his opponent to use it on him. If he disappeared…

  Rorik's heart had never beat so fast in his life. His dream! His goal! Right here in front of him! Well, maybe in front of him, maybe behind. His goal was invisible at the moment. Even if this was merely a shell of Ginin, it seemed to still possess most of his idol's skills. They say that a normal zombie not being controlled by its original soul has the talent equivalent to about half of its former self. Even half of Ginin's talent would destroy most men with ease. The problem lay in the fact that the body didn't have the intuition of a real man; It merely relied on the information within it to make whatever judgments it could, based on the skills available to it. But even without Ginin's soul, the skills available to it were quite useful.