by user
The Colossus wounded the young man again, first in the chest and then in the stomach, causing him to fall to the ground. He kicked his head and blood spilled from his right temple. He was full of wounds, but nevertheless he did not give up. The Roman was ready to sink his blade for the coup de grace, when Yulia jumped behind him and wrapped his hands around the neck of the enemy. For a brief moment he held him still, so Dasmond, with his blade, managed to stab him to the abdomen and mortally wounded him. The monster inside him was defeated and a black smoke exhaled from the lifeless body of the man.
«Thank God, I owe you my life! You're my hero!» the girl exclaimed with tears in her eyes.
«A true man always defends the weakest! If I could not save you, I would not deserve to be here now!» replied the young man.
«Who are these men? What do they want from us?» Yulia asked.
«Men? Did you see their eyes? They were red! They are Demons! I do not know how they managed to get here. Some of them have subjugated these men to their will, possessing their bodies. Others are simple humans, who have come here from who knows where and who knows the reason» Dasmond explained.
«Demons? I thought they were just a legend. So why did not the Dragon protect us?»
«The Dragon is gone now. Let me rest for a while» so Dasmond sat down on the ground.
For a moment the boy rested and the girl’s gaze filled his heart. The darkness went away and he managed to completely tame the dark power linked to his scar.
«Did you come back for me? You should have escaped!» Dasmond asked.
«I had to return the favor» said Yulia.
After those words, the girl started looking in the room. «Let me see, here somewhere I should have something» Yulia mumbled. Then she took some herbs and sprinkled them on the young hero’s wounds.
«Augh! Are you crazy?» Dasmond screamed.
Yulia tore a piece of cloth from her dress and tied it to the wound. While doing this, she noticed that the wounds were healing themselves.
«Who are you? What are you?» said Yulia, terrified.
«Calm down, I’m the blacksmith’s son, trust me. I’ll explain everything to you on the way, now we have to go right up to the Mount Dragòr, at east of the village» Dasmond said.
Yulia, despite the suspicions, decided to stay with him because everything she loved by now was destroyed. Dasmond got up and devised a ploy.
«We have to dress up. I will wear the clothes of this soldier, you of the other» suggested the boy.
«All right. But you take off the clothes at that man, please» Yulia asked shyly.
Dasmond took off the clothes of the two Romans and handed the dress of the lowest to Yulia. For him, wearing the highest clothes was a big problem. They had different builds, Dasmond was a meter and seventy-three tall, not enough to reach the height of that two-meter colossus. Despite this, he had an athletic and muscular body at the right point. He had black eyes and short brown hair, a proud look, a small nose and thin lips. His complexion was clear, while that of Yulia was slightly darker.
He took off his gray suit and, despite the presence of Yulia, remained in his underwear.
«Cover yourself!» Yulia said, blushing.
«I’m trying. These damn clothes...».
He managed somehow to get into those clothes, but the awkwardness in wearing didn’t disappear.
Yulia at sight could not hold back a loud laugh.
«What are you laughing?» the young man snarled.
Dasmond glared at Yulia and soon the two burst out laughing. They were two young person whom destiny had brought together at that difficult moment. Yulia went to change in the next room, the dress fit her, she was a little over one meter and eighty tall. Both wore the red legionary suit, then the segmented lorica, a breastplate made of iron plates joined together and a belt called balteus, with five pieces of leather at the front and above the iron plates around the life. To this, thanks to hooks, hung the sheath to put the sword. They put on their heads the helmet, of metallic gray color like the lorica, which presented a cap and two protections on the sides of the face. Finally, they wore the caligae, sandal-like leather shoes, but with leather filaments like laces tied on the foot and ankle.
«Damian resist! I will keep my promise!» the young warrior said with courage.
The two left the house and headed south, towards the great door of the village. The east, north and south areas of the village had by now been devastated and destroyed.
The surviving inhabitants were taken to the center of the village by roman legionaries. There stood a huge oak tree with a trunk three meters wide and a height of five meters. It possessed many long and sinuous branches, full of fruits of all kinds and of leaves dyed with all the colors of the rainbow. The demons set a large fire at the base of the trunk that began to burn.
Of the three hundred and six people, a hundred had been gathered there. Lucius Furius Rufus arrived with his steed and his men near the tree, where the legionaries kept the commoners in check.
«Tie them well, everyone! Tie his hands and feet!» He ordered angrily.
His screams made the inhabitants shiver and the children began to cry. The Romans began to tie them one by one. The three women whom Dasmond had saved had come from afar.
«Help! Help!» They cried together.
They were looking for desperate help, but they received in response a dozen darts that the archers, wearing a blue tunic and a scaled armor, hurled with hatred, killing those poor innocents. A soldier, to justify himself, said that they did not have enough wagons to carry all those hostages. It was difficult to distinguish men from demons, since they all had equally inhuman behavior.
Twenty men, young and old, were placed in two rows of ten. The archers threw the darts at them too. The heads ware severed from those few still alive. Never before had there been such a bloodshed in that place hidden in the mountains. 80, 50 children, 20 women and 10 men remained alive, against 1400 men.
The only one who resist was the old baker. Lucius Furius Rufus sent two hundred men to the west, while he saw two soldiers moving stealthily between the houses.
«You two! Where do you think you’re going!?» said the Dux angrily.
«We’re looking for food. These hills will surely be full of animals» Dasmond said firmly, to eliminate any suspicion.
«Well, bring two other men with you!» The Devastator ordered him. And two romans, with their lighted wooden torches, headed for the two boys.
«What do we do now?» Yulia whispered.
«Leave it to me, we’ll use that breach in the fence to the east. Then, to reach the Mount Dragòr we will follow “The Blue Mystical Path”» Dasmond answered.
«Let’s go this way» the young man ordered, and the others did not breathe.
Meanwhile, in the west of the village, Zakhior continued to fight, although he knew that this would not lead him to victory. He used his call for animals, a small magical ocarina given to him by the Elves, and came to his rescue the giant brown bears, almost two meters tall. They were at least fifty. Zakhior loved animals, fed them with his crops and with everything he could give him, even bread, cooked with his magic wood-burning oven. They filled the emptiness of his heart, replaced the presence of his son. In addition to his sheep, cows, pigs, he also cared for rabbits, marmots and other wild animals such as bears, who lived in the valley at the foot of the Kòlgota mountain range. Zakhior himself came out of the village to bring him food. This time, however, the bears managed to get through an opening of the fence, reduced like a colander.
All around the house had been destroyed and burned, as his flourishing fields watered thanks to his invention, a water system with wooden grooves that from small pit near the house wore the water to the fields, to the flower beds and even to the interior of his home. It was he who allow commoners to have the water in their house thanks to this ingenious invention.
Kinhooq, a bear with a golden mantle that capt
ained the herd, rushed to the aid of his friend. A violent struggle began between the rulers of the woods and the rulers of the Earth. The old man could counter the newly arrived enemy reinforcements. For the Romans, it was not easy to fight against those gigantic animals. Zakhior had only one goal: to defeat Tullius Valerius Arminius, a murderer captured by the Romans and joined the ranks of the Emperor. He boasted the title of “Arminius the Blade” for killing more than 500 people all with deception, he did not know what it was loyalty. And those bears had no effect on him. Quickly with the sword killed the first who had tried to bite him in the throat, but his blade was faster. There was only one thing left for Zakhior: using the infernal machine, the most powerful machine in the world.
«The Mortal Cage, I have to use the whole dwelling against him!» Zakhior thought.
The lances and the wall had been destroyed, the bears managed to kill some Romans, but they could not defeat them all since they were in huge numerical disadvantage.
«You, ruthless leader! Fight against me! Enter my home! You alone! We two and no one else!» the old man said proudly, incredulous at his words.
«Dare to challenge me?! Are you crazy or old age has made you lose your mind? I am Arminius the Blade! I’ll show you the symbol of the killers on my arm! The three skulls pierced by a dagger, the fourth will be yours! You will have a quick and painful death!» He replied ferociously.
He was tall, vigorous, with prominent muscles. He had steel deltoids, strong arms and was large in build. His legs had powerful quadriceps that made him agile despite his size. His golden armor, with the eagle in his chest, resisted the simple swords. On his left arm, well displayed, he carried the symbol of the assassins: Three skulls, one looking backwards and the others looking one to the right and the other to the left. Each of them was crossed from side to side by a dagger.
Arminius had long black hair up to his neck, brown eyes and scars on his legs, arms and all over his body. On his face he had printed an ugly sneer and, unlike the other soldiers, had a thick beard, but not very long. Only the Centurions and men of great importance wore a beard, since for the Romans it was a symbol of power and not all deserved such praise. Arminius, by the will of the Dux, received the honor of serving the roman army, escaping to certain death.
Zakhior panicked, then closed his eyes and calmed down. He was a man of medium height and very thin, time had marked his face and his body. He was seventy years old but still agile and strong, perhaps because of his strength of mind. He had very ruffled white hair, thick mustache, black eyes, and for a suit he wore a long gray tunic with a black waistband and at his feet he wore brown sandals.
«I built this for years, using Zakhier’s scrolls. I’m old now, my life is not so important and I owe it to the village. This man will have sold himself to the Devil like all the others. If only the Dragon had been there to protect us! I am sure it is your work, you have not yet surrendered after the many useless attempts to defeat our guardian! Not even the defeat of your son Beelzebub stopped you, which brought pestilence and killed my wife! Although I can do little, I will hinder your plans, Satan! The “Divine Formula” will bear its results. The energy released will be able to defeat it! Just press here, operate the lever, cut the ropes, break the chains!» Zakhior spoke to himself, then unrolled the parchment and saw the formula written inside.
From the wall above the kitchen, he opened a diamond block and appeared a series of silver gears that rotated counterclockwise. A last gear had to be inserted to activate the device. He was kept in a small red box that was near the gears. Zakhior opened it and saw within it a seven-centimeters-diameter gold gear engraved with silver letters on its teeth: “Wilyorjolr Ehéqh, Sadasàd”. Zakhior at the sight of those words was moved and then, with courage, he opened the rectangular door made of diamonds while he guarded the gear in his hands. Arminius crossed the threshold and was only three meters from the old man. Zakhior put the gear in his pocket and ran to grab the Diamond Sword, guarded below a block of the floor of his kitchen, the place where the battle was fought. He had diamond blade long forty centimeters and a long seven centimeters iron hilt. It was designed by his son, inventor and made by the blacksmith Zylien. All his inventions were used in the battle against that’s skilled warrior.
«Old man! You will feed my blade!» the Assassin threatened.
Zakhior began to tremble, the two were close. Arminius hit him in his left arm while he was running away. The lunge was not deep, but the flesh was lacerated and the pain made him lose his balance and knocked him to his knees. The Blade tried to hit him again, but Zakhior managed to escape by rolling to the side. Blood flowed from the wound, but nevertheless it rolled beneath the diamond table and managed to stand up from the other side.
«You, evil Roman! Why are you here? A father waiting for his boyfriend’s return does not deserve all this!»
The hatred he had in his body gave him the strength to react. Load of anger, he launched an attack with his Diamond Sword, but Arminius instantaneously parried it and with a kick hit him in the abdomen, making him spit blood. Zakhior was about to lose his strength.
«You are hard to kill, you old bastard! I’ll tear your limbs!» The Bama barked.
With an unprecedented power, with his spatha he cut Zakhior’s left arm, just above the bend of the elbow, to the bravest old man in the world. It was the end, Zakhior fell leaving the Diamond Sword. He felt a sharp pain and his vision clouded. On the floor of his home, in a moment, all his life passed before his eyes. He would not see his son again. He thought back to when he built the house with him, when he baked bread and how he loved to talk and stay with the animals. In that moment stared at the gears and, in the smoke coming out of a white lit candle on the kitchen, he saw his son’s profile, almost like a mirage. That simple sight was enough to force him back and grab his weapon. While the another was ready to kill him, thrust his Diamond Sword in the left leg of the opponent. Arminius screamed in pain and this time he was prostrating himself at Zakhior’s feet.
«Old bastard! I’ll drink your blood!» The Assassin shouted.
He took advantage of those gossip to reach the set of three gears, took the fourth he had with him and put him in his place. They began to rotate at the unison.
Druum. Noises.
Something began to move, several hidden devices began to operate, the house looked alive. Meantime the Roman had risen.
«You will not be able to get out of here! For the village! For my son! You will die!» Zakhior shouted proudly. Almost by magic, the house collapsed on itself. The walls fell down and destroyed in a thousand pieces, the sloping roof also struck the soldiers outside, mortally wounding them. That great man sacrificed himself and brought Arminius with him.
A great roar went through the village. The few bears left ran away. Kinhooq, with tears in his eyes, returned to the woods. The soldiers further from the home managed to avoid that bomb. Pieces of the house flew across the west area. It was a real explosion. Their centurion, under the rubble, now had no more power. They found his lifeless body among the blocks of diamond, while the old man, with his strange white hair and mustache, had a smile on his face. Almost as if he were saying: «Here my task ends».
The soldiers left the area, hurried to the center of the village to reach the dux and report on the incident. The village had been destroyed. The mountains, which had protected it for centuries, had now failed.
«What’s going on?» The Devastator shouted angrily.
«Commander! Arminius has been defeated! Dead!» a soldier said.
«Scum of a killer! Die in a place like this. He deserved it!»
He had no mercy even for his subordinates, for him they were only pawns to maneuver. In anger, Furius killed two persons.
«Why did one of the greatest killers ever get killed by an old man?» The Devastator asked.
«Commander, the house collapsed on them, she killed them both! She seemed alive!»
Lucius took that simple
infantry soldier by the neck and said: «Kill men and women, spare the children. Look for all the children!»
«Yes, sir!» the scared soldier answered.
Bloodshed was atrocious. A Roman ballista in one shot killed five women.
«Mom! Nooo!» The children screamed in tears. They had lost their homes, their mothers and their fathers. One last gesture was made by a peasant woman.
«Save my son, pity him! I will do whatever you want, everything!»
She was hit by a fiery arrow and burned in the night’s fire. Everything was destroyed by a shower of incandescent flames. The Romans took the children with them and began to inspect them. All the commoners lay on the ground, killed by an army of demons and men. They were in number underworld hours for damages, but they got their big booty.
The palisade, which still held up for a short time, burned in the flames and the same fate had the great “Tree of Life” which stood at the center of the village. For centuries he had given life to every human being. Now it was becoming ashes, because we are born from the dust and to it, at the end of our days, we will return.
While the soldiers watched every child, the Devastator remembered those four men sent to find food on the hill east.
Before every commoner died.
The two Romans at the head of the group were constantly trying to separate themselves from the other two, for some strange reason. Suddenly a strong wind came, cold as never before, but they still had to go on. Those two decided to position themselves in the rear of the group.
«Go ahead, light the path with the torches. We will protect your back!» Dasmond said.
The others nodded. As soon as they were behind them, the two with stones hit them in the head, putting the two romans out of the game.
