by N M Thorn
Oleg whistled between his teeth. “Bring it on, ublyudki…”
Damian smirked, thinking that he hadn’t heard someone cursing in Russian for a while.
“What he said,” murmured Cole, throwing a gaze sparkling with laughter at Oleg.
The demons howled and roared as they charged forward, brandishing their weapons.
“Procedia Amnia,” roared Damian and Oleg at the same time.
The glowing shield of their magical energy unfolded before them, and the front line of the demonic army ran into it, pounding it with their weapons but unable to break through. The impact vibrated through Damian’s arms, and he strained to maintain his magic. Oleg’s face tensed, and a thick pulsing vein crossed his forehead, the muscles of his arms and shoulders rippling under his shirt. The demons hadn’t expected it and bounced back, running into the monsters behind them.
“Stay behind us,” yelled Oleg, addressing Cole and Ace.
He exchanged a look with Damian and gave him a sharp nod. Understanding him without words, Damian dropped the shield at the same time as Oleg. The daggers in Damian’s hands lit up with the pure energy of Creation as he assumed his true form, folding his wings behind his back.
Oleg charged forward, moving lightly on his feet despite his size. He swung his sword. There was nothing magical about his weapon, but the man was so strong, he was able to decapitate a demon in its natural state with one swing of his blade. The monster froze in place, its head rolling off its deformed shoulders. Oleg applied a powerful push kick, propelling the massive body back into the group of demons behind it.
The presence of the elemental energy of Earth doubled as Oleg channeled his power. Endeavoring to make his way to the other end of the cave where Azazel was weaving his deadly magic, Damian moved forward. The purifying energy of Creation projected by his blades cut into the mass of the demonic army, burning through them as if they were nothing but butter under a hot kitchen knife.
The demons roared and parted, moving in two directions as they attempted to surround them. Watching every move of the opposing army, Damian knew that despite his effort, he and his friends were in trouble. There were just too many monsters here, and only four of them. They were severely outmanned. They couldn’t stop them. Sooner or later, they would be squeezed into a tight circle with no way to escape and no space to maneuver.
“Cole,” he projected, “keep an eye on Ace and be careful. We’re about to get outflanked.”
A momentary distraction caused him to lose track of his opponents. As a giant monster with four hairy arms spun toward him, waving his spiked club, Damian steered to the side to avoid the club just to run into another demon. Multiple tentacles wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms to his body. The suction cups of the tentacles attached to his skin, and Damian cried out as the poison produced by the monster scorched his skin. The massive fist of another demon connected with his jaw. His head jerked to the side, the copper taste of blood filling his mouth, his vision turning blurry for a few seconds.
Channeling more of his power, Damian threw his head back and screamed, opening his wings to full extent, placing all his strength into this move. The tentacles burst apart, releasing him, but as their suction cups broke off, they took parts of his skin with them, leaving bleeding ulcers in their wake. The demon howled and dropped to its knees. Cole stepped forward and swung his sword at the monster’s head, splitting it in two.
Three more demons replaced the fallen one, and it seemed like there was no end to them. Damian thrust his dagger forward, penetrating the monster’s chest.
“Illucious!” he yelled, amplifying the purifying power of Creation, and the demon melted into a pile of disgusting mush.
Spinning in place, Damian almost lost his footing on the sticky goo. Oleg was fighting across from him, deflecting the attacks of two demons at once, but all he could do was keep a defensive position, overwhelmed by the sheer number of attackers coming at him from every direction.
“Cole,” Damian called to his brother. “Oleg and I need just a few seconds to regroup. Can you and Ace give us a short breather?”
“Ask and you shall receive,” Cole’s voice roared in his head, and the vampire vanished.
Damian opened his other sight, watching his brother as he moved around the perimeter of surrounding attackers. While the vampire couldn’t kill the demons in their natural form easily, he produced enough chaos and confusion in their lines to distract them. Shouts of anger and howls of pain accompanied Cole’s speedy progress, and the demons pulled back slightly, focusing on stopping him.
“Oleg,” Damian shouted, magnifying his voice with his magic to raise it over the clamor of the battle. Oleg snapped his head, glancing at him over his shoulder with his eyebrows raised, and Damian added in a deep growl, “Let’s bury them once and for all.”
Oleg nodded, an orange light igniting in his eyes. “Be careful, Damian,” he shouted back. “We’re in a cave.” Sheathing his sword, he dropped to one knee, placing both palms flat against the ground.
“Ace,” yelled Damian, pulling her closer. “Watch Oleg’s back.” Making his daggers vanish, he dropped to one knee, mirroring Oleg’s position, and reached out to his brother. “Cole, come back now and keep an eye on the demons while we’re working.”
Detecting his brother’s presence behind him, Damian allowed the elemental energy of Earth to flow freely through him. He had never worked with another Child of Earth before, and now that Oleg was with him, he could detect the fluctuation in the elemental energy field as it split between them. With delight, he noticed that Oleg was skilled and precise, directing his energy through the ground between them and the demonic army.
The Earth responded to them, and the ground quaked. A thin fracture ran through the rocky floor, growing thicker with every passing moment. Careful not to rattle the floor of the cave too much, Damian focused on the crack, enlarging it. A few monsters fell into the trench, their screams of horror echoing through the cave. The others growled and hissed, cowering away from the danger. The front lines crushed the back lines, and the air filled with howls of pain, fury almost palpable around them.
Without giving them time to regroup and attack again, Damian rose to his feet and touched his bracelet. As it turned into the whip, he swung it, directing it forward. The thong wrapped around a demon’s neck, silver burning its gray skin. He channeled his power through it, and dirty tendrils of smoke rose in the air, permeating it with the reek of scorched flesh. Damian yanked the whip back, sending the monster into the trench. Fast and deadly, he kept working with his weapon, sending one monster after the other crashing down. The demons roared, their ugly faces distorted by overwhelming anger, but none of them dared to even try to cross the trench.
Conjuring one energy orb after another, Oleg kept propelling them at the opposing army, each orb finding a target. As the army of demons started dwindling, Damian saw Azazel through a small opening in their lines. With his back turned toward the center of the cave, the Fallen was casting a spell, the malignant energy of his magic wrapping around his enormous body. The wall of the cave in front of him was shimmering with purple sparkles that were outlining an area about three feet wide and seven feet high.
Dammit, he found the cell… The bone-chilling thought flashed through Damian’s mind, and he turned toward Oleg, waving to attract his attention. Oleg’s face lost all color as his eyes fell on Azazel, and he swore colorfully in Russian.
As if feeling their eyes on his back, the Fallen turned his head, and a sinister smirk crossed his face. He pointed in their direction, muttered something under his breath and returned to the task at hand.
“What the hell is this now!” Ace’s furious voice sounded behind Damian.
He spun around, and his heart thundered in his chest, his arms numb. Like in a stupor, he saw Ace raising her sword and taking a step forward.
“Ace, no!” he shouted, reaching for her. “This is not what you think!”
Chapter 33
~ Damian Blake ~
Under the ceiling of the cave, a giant dragon-like monster levitated, supported by enormous wings. Its large body was covered in blood-red scales that seamlessly morphed into a rich burgundy on its stomach and chest. Its four massive paws ended in sharp, hooked claws, and its flaming eyes stared at them with carnivorous hunger. Puffs of gray smoke exited its nostrils and mouth with every breath, tiny flames and sparks breaking through between its sharp fangs. The wings of the monster, however, contrasted with its general appearance. While they were large enough to sustain its heavy body in the air, they seemed to be thin and slightly blue, resembling plain paper.
“What do you mean, it’s not what I think!” yelled Ace, holding her sword at the ready. “If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it probably is a friggin’ duck.” She threw a furious glance back at Damian and extended her sword up. “It’s a goddamn dragon. Open your eyes!”
“It’s not a dragon!” shouted Damian and Cole at the same time.
“Procedia Amnia!” Oleg yelled, encapsulating all four of them into a protective shield just in time as the dragon-like creature sucked in a huge gulp of air, the scales on its chest lifting and spreading out a little. A heartbeat later, the monster exhaled with an ear-splitting hiss, showering them with a powerful downpour of fire. Oleg grunted, but his shield withheld the attack.
“Definitely not a dragon,” muttered Damian, watching the creature getting ready for the next fire blast. He turned to Cole. “Fire is deadly for you, brother. Stay within Oleg’s shield and don’t try anything crazy.”
“Damian, I believe you know with whom we are dealing,” Oleg said calmly, and it wasn’t a question. He simply confirmed the fact.
“Whom? Did you mean what?” asked Ace, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Nuh, it is he—a man. Never thought he was real, though.” Oleg raked his fingers through his shortly cropped hair and turned to Damian. “Can you wield water, Commander?” he asked, following the monster’s progress with his eyes as it made another circle above their heads, either looking for a better place to attack or deciding who to munch on first.
“No, I can’t wield the elemental energy of Water, but I can conjure enough of physical water to do the job—,” started Damian, but a low growl rolled through the cave, interrupting him, and he winced, spinning in place.
Even though they had destroyed more than half of the demonic army, a small group of them still remained. The few short minutes Damian and his team switched their attention to the new threat had given the demons the opportunity they needed to pull back and regroup.
Now, a few of them stood behind the Fallen, channeling their demonic essence through him to reinforce his magic. But the rest of them restored order and pulled closer to the trench, chanting in low, growling voices. With every word they uttered, the edges of the trench pulled closer together, and Damian had no doubt that if they didn’t find a way to stop the monsters, soon he and his team would be attacked by the demonic army from the back and the flying monster from the front.
He felt Oleg’s back pressed against his as he changed his position, and Cole took a place next to him, leaving Ace at Damian’s side.
“Oleg, I’ll deal with the flying monster,” Damian whispered, pointing at the dragon-like creature. “I need you to take care of the rest of the demons, and I need you to do it fast. Cole and Ace are coming with you. You must break through to the Fallen before he completes his incantation and before his demons cross the trench. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Let’s do it.” Oleg gave him a curt nod, gesturing for Cole and Ace to follow him. “Watch your back, Commander.”
As soon as Damian stepped outside the protective shield, the monster sucked in air again with a loud hissing noise and immediately exhaled the next blast of fire, aiming at Damian. He spun out of the way, but not fast enough. The fire set his jacket on the left side ablaze, and a few scorching flames licked the exposed skin of his neck and face, eliciting a groan of pain from him. He ripped the jacket off and threw it to the ground, cursing the Slavic fairy tales and their deadly creatures of magic.
Channeling his magic, he pointed at the monster and shouted, “Aquamius!”
Two powerful streams of water erupted from his palms, and he directed them at the monster’s wings. The creature howled and hissed, twirling in the air, the terrible sound it emitted making the walls vibrate. In an instant, its paper-like wings were soaked through with water and hung at its sides, limp and useless. The creature spiraled down, its deafening howls overwhelming the cacophony of the fight unfolding at the other end of the cave. It hit the ground with a thunderous bang, and a fountain of dust and debris rose in the air like a thick, dirty veil, completely obscuring the point of impact.
Using the momentary reprieve, Damian channeled his magic again and drew a rune in the air, charging it with his magical energy. As the rune lit up brighter, he whispered a summoning spell, pressing his hand to the Shadow Enforcer rune on his upper arm. Immediately, a portal twirling with shimmering blue lights opened up next to him, and a man dressed in a black tactical uniform walked through it, halting next to him. His eyes widened as he observed the mayhem in the cave.
“What the hell, Dima?” the man roared, two cossack’s sabers materializing in his hands. “Thank God I was dressed for the occasion. A little warning would go a long way, you know.” Then he laughed, humor and the excitement of the upcoming fight sparkling in his blue eyes. “I already forgot how much fun it is to work with you. I never know in which shithole I will end up the next time you summon me.” He pushed Damian with his shoulder slightly. “What do we have here?”
“We have a little zmey-problem on our hands. Tugarin Zmeyevich, to be precise,” replied Damian, his eyes trained on the curtain of dust as it slowly started to dispel.
“You don’t say,” murmured Cossack, all mirth gone from his eyes. “I thought he was long dead.”
“Apparently not.” In one quick motion, Damian wrapped his whip around his wrist, turning it into a bracelet, and summoned his daggers, directing the flow of his magical energy through them. “Remember the Carpathian Mountains? The same plan should work.”
Cossack grinned, flicking his eyebrow at Damian. “This time, you’re the front.”
“Fine,” agreed Damian in a quick whisper. “We need him unconscious just long enough to destroy his physical body.”
A low growl rattled through the cave, stretching Damian’s already heightened senses to the next level. The dust settled down, and now an enormous man stood in the place where the creature’s body had hit the ground. He was at least seven feet tall, his unclothed torso wrapped in grotesquely oversized muscles. His tanned skin reflected the reddish-orange flares of the torches, making him look as if he was engulfed in flames. Perhaps he was, since gray swirls of smoke rose above him, wrapping around his massive biceps. Black leather pants tucked into tall leather boots hugged his legs, and a long sword in a black sheath was attached to the wide belt fastened around his waist.
“Holy zmey,” murmured Cossack, his sabers igniting as brightly as Damian’s daggers.
A predatory smile stretched Tugarin’s lips beneath his long black mustache, turning his narrow, sharply angled eyes into black slits. Touching his chest with his hand, he bowed a ceremonious old-Russian style bow, but it was filled with enough mockery and derision to give Damian a good idea of how little the ancient monster truly thought about him and his friend.
Straightening, Tugarin ran his hand over his head, which was shaved cleanly on the front and the sides with a long black braid left on the back.
“Goi esi, dobri molodtsi,” he greeted them with an ancient Russian greeting. “How would you like me to kill you? I can burn you with fire. I can cut you with a sword. Or I can penetrate you with my long spear.”
“Hmm…” murmured Cossack, ruffling his curly hair. “A tough choice. Dima, do you want to see his long spear? Or be penetrated by it?”
>
Damian snorted. “I think I can live for the rest of my life without ever seeing his… spear.”
Tugarin Zmeyevich roared, fury igniting the flames on his arms and shoulders. In one swift move, he unsheathed his enormous sword and charged Damian. Without skipping a beat, Damian met his sword with his daggers. Bright red sparks flared in the air, the sound of metal striking metal ringing through the cave.
The fire ignited in Tugarin’s eyes as he pushed down on his sword, his colossal biceps doubling in size. Damian groaned, fighting to hold his position. With his peripheral vision, he watched Cossack stealthily move around the monster. He wasn’t sure if Tugarin could see his friend, but he had to make sure he was too busy to pay attention.
He channeled the energy of Earth, making the ground wobble slightly under their feet. The pressure Tugarin had been applying on his sword eased up just a little as the monster had to check his balance, and Damian used the opportunity to thrust forward, forcing the zmey to stumble backward. With his daggers free, Damian spun, closing the distance between himself and his opponent. His blade whistled through the air, biting into Tugarin’s flesh between his ribs.
The monster roared in pain, fire engulfing his torso. Smoldering heat surrounded his entire body, expanding around him like a blast wave. Damian staggered a step back, struggling to fill his lungs with oxygen.
“Frail humans!” Tugarin Zmeyevich roared, laughing. “Killing you is too easy.”
He twirled around, the flames around him creating a fire-filled funnel. Swinging his fist, he punched Cossack, sending him flying across the floor. He hit the opposite wall and slid to the floor, his hands unlocking. The sabers dropped with a loud clatter, their brilliant light extinguishing. A sinister smirk distorted Tugarin’s features as he raised his sword, stepping closer to Cossack.
“Hey, you, origami dragon!” yelled Damian, trying to divert the monster’s attention away from his friend. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size? Or maybe you’re afraid to lose a fight to a frail human?” He snickered, assuming a fighting stance.
