Death Knight Box Set Books 1-5: A humorous power fantasy series

by Michael Chatfield

  Klyn stepped forward, raising dust around him.

  Silver light traced where his sword had been. Damien’s clothes were buffeted by the wind as he was forced to use a foot to counter- act the attacks.

  He didn’t move from his spot once, a statue that seemed to be hitting the wind randomly.

  “His strikes are all hitting Klyn perfectly, deflecting his attacks with ease.

  It was like watching a master against an apprentice, pointing out the others’ weaknesses as he avoided their attacks.

  “Probably can only keep that form for a limited time,” Damien said.

  His voice was calm but everyone heard it and Klyn’s eyes con- stricted.

  Damien released his war hammer, it dropped to the ground as Damien stepped forward, his movements seemed slow, but they were counteracting Klyn’s barrage of attacks.

  Klyn was unable to stop his attacks as he was under Damien’s tempo, being pushed around. Klyn showed panic now, but he kept

  fighting with everything he had, blood ran down his teeth and dyed his eyes.

  He stuttered and tilted, about to fall. Damien kicked Klyn’s side and hit him with a palm strike, forcing him back onto his feet.

  Klyn raised his sword just in time to defend against a punch aimed at his head.

  Wind rushed past his face as Damien’s fist’s blurred, striking Klyn’s openings.

  Klyn grunted and coughed as the attacks rained down on his body.

  The crowd was silent as they watched this stranger play with their emperor, beating him easily. Their eyes burned in rage and shame.

  Damien swept Klyn’s legs.

  Klyn dropped to the ground. As he started to return to his ori- gi- nal form, new cuts and bruises covered his body, swelling al- ready tak- ing effect. Damien stayed where he was, clearly in control of the en- tire fight.

  “You might have defeated me, but you’re just a human. Take off your helmet and prove that you aren’t!” Klyn said, coughing blood.

  Damien started to laugh and reached up, grabbing his helmet.

  He pulled it off, revealing his skull and his flaming blue eyes. “You!” Klyn and the others were shocked by Damien’s true ap-

  pearance, trying to distance themselves from him.

  The spectators grabbed their weapons.

  “Kill him, kill the demon spawn!” Someone yelled.

  “Demons spawn,” A deep voice resonated in other’s chests it seemed to taste the word, finding it amused.

  Tattoos appeared on Damien’s skull as he started to expand, a black miasma created a shadow behind him. Red tattoos ran down the right side, black the other, with a strip of green in the middle.

  Damien started to change and power swept toward him. His eyes turned purple and an emblem appeared on his chest while his bones elongated and his teeth extended into fangs.

  The spectators watched, stepping back as Damien turned into his werewolf form.

  “Emperor Klyn!” Damien’s voice boomed through the palace grounds. “You have failed in honoring your position of Emperor. Though that is not your fault as you were betrayed and corrupted by others you placed your trust in. You are a fighter, not an Emper- or. Through your rules I claim the power of the Emperor and abol- ish these archaic rules of championships. Leadership of the beast kin will be decided by the clan spirits of every faction. Officiated by the Guardians.”

  Klyn’s face distorted as his clan spirit pushed forward.

  “What have you done?” It yelled as purple flames appeared from within.

  “You betrayed your oath, you betrayed your fellow clan spirits!” Damien

  One of the guards rushed forward as Bruce released his aura. “Do it Damien,” Bruce’s voice grated in everyone’s ears.

  Damien darted out, his fists glowed with purple flames as he struck out at different people. They screamed out with purple flames appearing within their bodies.

  The squirrel kin from the Spirit Garden appeared out of the ground, next to Bruce.

  “I have repaired the Guardian Flames.” She tilted her head to Damien, who stood there with his werewolf form.

  Others were splayed out on the ground, those who remained standing all stared at him in fear.

  He tilted his head to her. “If you could guide me?” “Certainly.” She led the way.

  Bruce and Damien left behind the upper echelons of the beast kin nation.

  “Why did you want me to defeat them first?” Damien asked as he walked along with Bruce.

  “The corruption within them is high and they create a pow- erful voice. If they were to talk out against us, it could divide the people. We need them to work together. With them being cleansed of their corruption and unable to speak, and with the clan spirits spreading the truth and raising the power of the beast kin, com- bined with you igniting the Guardian Flames to cleanse the city, it puts you in a po- sition to lead everyone, instead of looking for their acknowledge- ment,” Bruce said.

  “Thinking three steps ahead,” Damien said.

  “We need the people to work together. Sometimes we need to guide them. We don’t have time to allow the muddied waters to clear themselves, or allow them to form.”

  They reached the exterior of the palace, where the fountain there had been torn apart and the flame enchantment underneath re- vealed.

  The surrounding people were all looking at the powerful clan spirits around the fountain. They bowed to Bruce and Damien, mak- ing the people within the crowd drop to their knees. Honor was deeply ingrained within the beast kins’ bones; if their ancestors bowed, then the person was of a great position.

  They peeked up at Bruce as his Guardian emblem appeared on his chest and a purple flame appeared on his hand. He sent it for- ward. It rested within the middle of the enchantment. Purple light filled it and several wisps of flame sped off, appearing in other loca- tions where the clan spirits stood guard. The flames touched down on the enchantment and bloomed into purple fires.

  From them, courts appeared above them.

  “Soon Bracegar will be cleansed and a new leader can be elect- ed,” Bruce said.

  “Once that is done, then I will head to the north,” Damien said.

  Bruce bowed to Damien. “Thank you for all you have done.”

  Damien gave a terse nod and didn’t say anything more. Bruce and the small Penelope that was watching dispersed their forms.

  They returned to Anthony, who was moving with the United Army and the armies that had stood on the line, clearing out door- ways.

  “Bracegar is now held by Damien. The clan spirits have been re- leased and are moving to test their people and pass on their teach- ings,” Bruce reported.

  “You’ve worked hard. There are already some of the beast kin among our ranks who have been called by their clan spirits.”

  ***

  Lord Dion Lemar stood on one of the towers inside Skalafell, watch- ing the tide of chaotic beasts that were charging in from the area sur- rounding Skalafell.

  There was fighting down on the walls. Different tall buildings that had been struck with the blasts from the beasts’ mouths had dropped rubble on the buildings below.

  There were holes in the wall where it had been breached. Rub- ble had been thrown together, with alchemical concoctions to bind it all together poured on top to create ad-hoc walls.

  Dion looked at the gates that had appeared all around Skalafell. The boats and their harbor had been torn to shreds in the long- range attacks.

  “Any word from the Emperor?” Dion asked as beasts poured in from every direction without pause.

  “The war is still going on, these strange creatures only just ap- peared.”

  “So, it is likely that we are on our own.” Dion muttered to him- self, looking at the orderly lines of odd creatures that commanded the chaotic beasts from the rear.

  If they were to charge in, instead of hitting us from long range then we might not be able to hold. Even if they keep attacking from range, we cannot last a long
drawn out siege. All of our supplies have been sent forward with our main fighting forces to fight the humans. Dammit!

  “Breaches have appeared on the northwestern side!” an officer called out.

  “The legion forces and our reserves have been pushed out. We don’t have anything more to give,” Commander Jaclu said.

  “The Black Scarves.” Dion turned to face her. “They aren’t a military unit.”

  “No, but they’re the ones holding this city together. They’ve been the ones policing people while this siege is going on, running the medical clinics, passing out the food rations, moving our sup- plies around.” Dion looked into Jaclu’s eyes.

  “Bring in the representative!”

  The door opened. There was a bear kin man. His body was pow- erful and he carried a commanding presence with him. His face was hard but there was a soft light to his eyes.

  “How can Ubi of the Black Scarves be of service?”

  “The walls on the northeastern side are falling. We need your help,” Dion said.

  “The Black Scarves do not have weapons or armor. We will need time to put it on and assist,” Ubi said.

  “The city’s armories are open to you,” Dion said.

  Ubi let out a whistle. Three smaller members of the Black Scarves appeared: one crane kin, a crow kin, and a flying squirrel kin. “Send messages out. Those who are willing to fight are to at-

  tend the armories for weapons and armor. Medical staff and rescue

  crews

  are to remain in their roles. If they are free, they are to get weapons and armor to defend others with.” Ubi looked to Dion, who nodded.

  “Go.”

  The squirrel kin dashed out of a window, spreading out his wings; the crane and the crow followed.

  Their voices could be heard across the city as they passed the word.

  “I will head down,” Dion said. “You’re the city lord,” Jaclu said. “Yes, and this is my city. I was not able to defend it when the plague came, but now these monsters are upon us, it’s my duty to

  stand with my people.” Dion looked at Jaclu.

  She sighed and waved her hand.

  “Mind if I join you, Lord Dion?” Ubi asked.

  “Could always use the strength, Ubi.” Dion headed out of the tower and down the stairs. His personal guard followed. Someone gave Ubi armor and a war hammer as they jogged across the city.

  Chaotic blasts arced overhead, hitting the ground. They slammed into buildings here and there, hitting them like an over- sized hammer, tossing wood and stone across the street, leaving a half-melted mess of what remained.

  A stone building was struck; the guards and Dion raised their shields. The bricks and stone rained down on their armor.

  They pushed on, seeing people running in the streets to find bet- ter cover. The Black Scarves crews were out, working in broken hous- es and buildings, pulling the wounded free.

  Others were carrying people through the streets to the aid sta- tions or taking the rubble and transporting it to the walls to fill breaches or to be hurled down on the enemy.

  It was a scene of chaos, with people working against the de- struc- tion of battle.

  Dion turned his head to the side.

  “Are those bells?” Ubi asked.

  “Those are spirit bells, announcing that a clan spirit has re- turned. Though, it’s not just one bell.” Dion felt his blood pumping as spirit bells from across Skalafell started to ring.

  At first it was only a handful, then it reached dozens possibly hundreds as even the general ancestral bells began ringing in the large cemetaries.

  ***

  “What idiot is out there ringing bells?” Jun asked his friend Mai as Mai pulled the last buckle on his armor tight.

  “Don’t know—don’t matter,” Mai said, checking his work. “Good to go?” Jun asked.

  “Good to go,” Mai said.

  The square had guards pulling out weapons and armor, tossing them into piles.

  Jun took his black rag and tied it around his left arm. Mai fol- lowed suit.

  “Never thought that the guards would be giving me armor.” Mai laughed.

  “Me either, but a lot of things changed since Anthony showed us a different way,” Jun said.

  “That is true.” Mai tied up his black rag.

  Jun checked his sword; he slid it away and grabbed a bow. He felt his simple tattoos itching. His parents didn’t have enough

  money for him to get more detailed tattoos that might draw out the potential of his bloodline.

  “Damn, must have sand or something in here,” Jun complained as he shifted his armor around, trying to get rid of the itch.

  “Jun Fleet-foot.” A voice came from the air in front of Jun as col- or seemed to gather together, showing a woman with feline fea- tures wearing a robe.

  Jun felt a resonance with her and a deep sense of respect.

  “C-c kin spirit!” Mai’s long tongue worked before his mind as he hissed and spluttered out the words in shock.

  Jun rubbed his eyes, looking at the woman, who smiled.

  “I am your ancestor Natsu. You have had a hard life. You fell in- to darkness for a time, but here you stand, leading people in defense of Skalafell. You look to help those around you now. You say it is due to your chains, but it is because of your character. I can lend you my strength for this battle.”

  Jun’s body shook.

  A large reptilian clan spirit appeared. “It seems that you have good friends, Mai,” the reptile said with a smile. There was a fero- cious aura to the man but he seemed to have a kind disposition.

  “Krem,” Natsu said in greeting.

  “Time we helped out the young ones.” Krem laughed and looked to Mai. “How about it? I’ll lend you my strength for this fight. After- ward—who knows? I might want to stick around and be your clan spirit. There is much to learn, little Mai.”

  Jun dropped to his knees in front of Natsu. “This one would humbly accept any aid you can give me to help others. I do not ask any more of you and I do not wish to bind our spirits unless we both agree.” Jun hadn’t had much exposure to clan spirits but he knew some of the basics from word of mouth and talking to others. “You’ll need to get better clan markings in the future.” Natsu

  turned into a colorful mist.

  Jun grunted. His tattoos burned as Natsu’s power flowed through and into him. His blood started to shake and he let out a cry. It was as if someone were scrubbing his insides with metal.

  Mai saw his friend in pain and then looked at Krem. “Ancestor, this one will accept any aid you have to offer and will not dare to bind you unless agreed by both parties.” His voice was more sure than he was as he kowtowed in front of his ancestor.

  “Even seeing your friend in pain, you are willing. Pain is only temporary.” Krem’s eyes narrowed in a pleased expression. He turned into light and darted forward.

  Across Skalafell, clan spirits appeared, offering their aid. People crumbled as others protected them.

  ***

  Dion felt as if his guts had been gripped tight and turned. He looked at the walls. There were several of the advanced glowing creatures on the wall. A blast shook a section of wall, blasting it free. Dion was grabbed and pulled to the side. He looked to see Ubi had tackled him. Two of his guards had been struck, one gravely in- jured and the other crying out in pain.

  People from the Black Scarves moved over to them.

  A breach had formed, allowing them to see the chaotic beasts on the other side of the wall.

  Two of the guards used their staffs. The tattoos along their arms glowed with power and their eyes became misty.

  The male caster hit the ground with a grunt. Stone and dirt com- pressed together as they rose into the air.

  The female caster closed her eyes, chanted, and started to move, drawing power from the world around her as she flowed from one position to another. The male jabbed his spear forward.

  The earthen and stone compressed at
tack shot forward. He stepped on the ground. More of the compressed bullets appeared and he continued to fire them. His attacks killed a few, but others weathered the rounds and forced their way forward.

  The guards fired their crossbows and started to reload them. “We need to move, Lord Dion!” one yelled out.

  “We will secure this breach!” Dion yelled as several more blasts hit the wall, causing more rubble to come lose.

  Beast kin yelled as they were tossed into the air. Others cried out warnings as the rocks rained down.

  A vortex of elemental energies appeared around the female cast- er, raising a fierce wind around her.

  People planted their feet against covering their eyes with their hands. She flowed into a lunge position thrusting her staff forward as if it was a spear. The vortex compressed, flowing down through her body, lighting up her tattoos running through her body and in- to her staff.

  Her eyes reflected the colors of the vortex, power rushing into her, a cloak made of elemental power. A beam shot out from the crys- tal at the peak of her staff. Light blinded those that were look- ing too close, the ground under her feet cracked with the force.

  It cleaved through the breach, Chaotic beasts were torn asun- der, their bodies thrown back out of the breach.

  Underneath the path of her beam, between the stones, grasses and flowers bloomed, in contrast to the destruction just meters away. The woman’s beam dissipated, but her crystal continued to

  glow.

  Within it, one could see compressed elemental energies.