Blood Immortal

by Paul Centeno

  The royal knights grimaced, releasing their swords. Dargain even let go of his damaged shield. Frostwarm hesitated but lowered his staff.

  “I said drop it!” roared Magmarta, tightening his grip on the boy.

  Eyebrows creasing, Frostwarm dropped his rod. “Threatening the lives of children won’t save you, dwarf.”

  “My name is Magmarta,” he said monstrously. “And the lives of children and adults are irrelevant to me. They shall all be sacrificed for a worthy cause—my immortality. That includes you, of course. Take them away,” he commanded, closing the visor of his horned helmet.

  A cadre of thirty-five dwarves approached the Vlydyonians, a few of them clasping their prisoners’ hands in iron manacles. They then guided the trio up a steep ramp, bringing them to a dungeon where Taveric, Olwe, and the other knights lay restless. Taveric spotted Frostwarm and got to his feet, gripping the bars of his cell and trying to yank the grill open.

  “Infidels!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “You shall pay for such treachery! Do you hear me, Dargain?”

  “He’s hopeless,” muttered Kaylana, shaking her head.

  “Quiet,” said a dwarf in studded armor, hitting her with the handle of his poleaxe.

  Kaylana growled at him sidelong, only to cause the cadre to raise their axes. She cursed under her breath, quelling her anger. Before the dwarves shoved her and the brothers into cells, Gosroth appeared on a ridge above them.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” he said, a group of husky metal beings standing beside him. “Now you’re with your fellow heroes and can die together.”

  “Ah, there you are,” said Frostwarm, facing the old man with a warm smile. “Gosroth, before I obliterate you, I just want to know one thing: why did you choose to betray your own kind and side with these wretched buffoons?”

  Gritting his teeth, the old man answered, “Why settle for being a retired archmage when I can rule this kingdom?”

  “So true,” said Frostwarm. “But you’re forgetting that Magmarta would be king.”

  Infuriated by the remark, Gosroth raised his staff and conjured a fireball. Hurling it forward, the sphere of flame exploded an inch away from Frostwarm whose magical shield absorbed it. Embers caused by the powerful blast showered over the dwarves, causing them to flinch. In that instant, Frostwarm used telekinesis to summon his staff. Weapon in hand, he aimed it at Gosroth and emitted a bolt of lightning at him.

  The old man shrieked in agony, jolting in spasms while electricity flowed through his wrinkled body. He then fell lifelessly to the ground, smoke rising from his crispy corpse. The metal beings leaped down, stomping toward the wizard. Meanwhile, the cadre of dwarves got back on their feet and attempted to strike him with their axes. Before reaching him, Frostwarm clonked the base of his staff on the floor, creating an earthquake that tore open the ground. Half the dwarves were swallowed in the blink of an eye.

  “Fre’or dis mo’fen da la’ris!” boomed Frostwarm, fireballs hurling from his staff and free hand, blasting the metal beings. He then snapped his fingers, unlocking the prisons and manacles of his comrades. While turning a group of dwarves into ice with his power, he murmured an incantation that teleported his companions’ weapons. He winked at his brother and said, “That should help.”

  Dargain smiled at him and then joined his fellow knights in combat, clashing against the remaining dwarves. Olwe didn’t want to fight his own kind but had no choice. He raised his axe and decapitated one of them. Taveric, slack-jawed by what Frostwarm had done, joined him in battle.

  “For the glory of the Nine, slay the heretics!” he shouted with fervor.

  Swiping his sledgehammer in an arc, Taveric dented the chest of a metal being. Not one second later, Frostwarm turned it into ice. Nodding at the wizard with respect, Taveric shattered the icy husk. In the meantime, Kaylana and Dargain were beside each other, lacerating the cadre of dwarves. More of them approached from the ramp, along with metal beings.

  The guardians of Vlydyn didn’t waver. They fought alongside one another, parrying and riposting. Argrigoth was the only knight who attacked from a distance. He climbed a cliff, aimed his bow below, and launched multiple arrows at the dwarves. After killing a dozen of them, one of the numerous metal beings approached him from behind.

  “Argrigoth, look out!” yelled Zarlando.

  Before he could react, the enchanted husk pulverized his body with its iron fists. Zarlando turned sidelong, disgusted by what had happened to his comrade. He then used a ramp on the left to reach the ridge where the metal being stood and tried to destroy it with his claymore. Although his sword was thick, it wasn’t strong enough to single-handedly defeat the iron creature. He only dented parts of its chest. When he was about to withdraw, Ceirdan and Orodreth joined him. The trio continuously struck the bulky husk with their two-handed claymores until they managed to pierce its armor. Once it fell to the ground, the knights peeked at its torn breastplate to see who lay inside it. They jumped back with fear, not seeing anyone.

  “Magic is a double-edged sword,” said Ceirdan.

  “What should we do?” asked Orodreth, glancing at his comrade’s corpse.

  “When this is over, we’ll bury Argrigoth,” said Zarlando, his eyes downcast. “Until then, we must fight on.”

  In the meantime, Dargain and Kaylana slaughtered dozens of enemies and returned to the forge. Another wave of dwarves advanced toward them. Dargain used his shield to block several attacks and only struck with his sword when he saw an opening. On the contrary, Kaylana fought recklessly. Drenched in blood and screaming like a banshee, she swiped her weapons around like a maniac and slaughtered her adversaries without an ounce of remorse.

  Upon slaying her thirty-ninth foe, she felt something tingly. It started to sting. Looking down, Kaylana noticed Magmarta’s double-bladed axe in her stomach. He yanked it out of her and rammed his helmet into her, sending her to the ground.

  “Lana!” cried out Dargain, rushing to her aid. “Stay with me.” While holding her, he glanced around, trying to locate Taveric or his brother. Yet they were by the dungeon, still battling against the metal beings. “Don’t you worry, Lana. I’m going to get Lord Taveric. He’ll heal you.”

  Blood leaking from her mouth, she dropped her swords. With the last of her strength, she raised a hand and stroked his hair affectionately.

  “I guess the king won’t be deeming me Master,” she whispered, dying in his arms.

  Tears welled up in his eyes. He tenderly kissed her cheek and closed her eyelids. Then he removed her white headband and placed it on his forehead. An uncontrollable fury took over him. Dropping his sword and battered shield, he grabbed Kaylana’s weapons and got to his feet. He approached Magmarta’s anvil, which had runes etched into it, and sliced it in half. Just then, the enchantment on his swords wore off. Afterwards, he turned sidelong, glaring at Magmarta who held double-bladed axes—one in each cobalt hand.

  “Surrender,” said Dargain coldly.

  “How could I when I’m so close to becoming an immortal Spirit?” responded Magmarta, his weapons raised. “Thanks to Gosroth’s help, I’ve been able to experiment with the populace of Hasgrith, transferring their life force into the husks you’ve been fighting. I merely needed to perfect it. And now that I’ve created a suit of armor that’s immune to even the lava beneath us, it is time to transfer my own life force. After ridding you from this pathetic world, I shall achieve arcane transmigration and ascend!”

  “If your heinous theory is even correct, your body may become indestructible; but you’ll never be granted an immortal soul by the Nine.”

  “It’s unfortunate you won’t be alive to witness my legacy,” said the dwarf.

  Magmarta charged toward Dargain who rolled aside and vehemently struck with his two swords. The crazed dwarf parried using his axes and riposted. While attacking, he hawked and spat phlegm at Dargain’s face. Blinding him, Magmarta sundered his armor. Slightly wounded, Dargain withdrew and removed the go
oey spittle. He then strode forth, continuing to battle his adversary.

  “You’re a sick dwarf, Magmarta,” said Dargain.

  “Sick is so much better than dead,” he retorted, a demented grin forming on his chapped lips.

  The duo clashed multiple times, their blades clanking and sparking. They tried their best to slice off each other’s limbs but kept parrying and guarding themselves. Even though Dargain fought more reckless than usual, he still maintained his discipline of patience. On the other hand, Magmarta attacked ferociously—madness in his eyes. Despite his lack of height, he managed to overpower Dargain and struck his greaves, cracking the armor. A drizzle of blood leaked from his right thigh. He limped to the side, still standing. Magmarta saw this as a weakness and rushed toward him, swiping his axes wildly.

  Withdrawing a few steps, Dargain evaded several strikes with swift movements and deflected other attacks using his swords. Magmarta was swiping his weapons so rapidly that Dargain had little time to counterattack. Just as Dargain felt a bit dizzy due to a loss of blood, radiant light enveloped him. His wounds abruptly healed, at which point his fellow guardians emerged.

  “It’s over, Magmarta,” said Taveric, mace in hand.

  “You’re right,” said the metal-strewn dwarf. “It’s over…for you!” He refused to waver despite being surrounded, throwing his axes at the wizard who teleported out of the way. When he reached his ruined anvil, he lifted up a titanium claymore from an adjacent slack tub. “Face the wrath of Magmarta!”

  He easily dodged the knights’ attacks. With one swipe, he shattered Zarlando’s sword. Then he struck Orodreth and Ceirdan, cracking their armor and wounding them. Taveric strode over to Magmarta, ready to pulverize him with his mace. Before doing so, Magmarta punched him so hard that he flew across the forge. Taveric had difficulty breathing, his hauberk fractured. In the meantime, Olwe leapt off a ridge, attempting to plunge his battleaxe into Magmarta who produced an uppercut, breaking Olwe’s jaw. Though he lay unconscious, Taveric healed him.

  Frostwarm, meanwhile, enchanted his brother’s weapons to endure Magmarta’s ominous blade. Deflecting the powerful attacks, Dargain started to riposte. The wizard assisted him, bolts of lightning splurging and striking the crazed dwarf. Magmarta’s titanium armor appeared to be divine because he resisted the spell. Frostwarm breathed fire on him, yet he was unharmed. The wizard even hurled an orb of ice at him. Exploding upon impact, frost enveloped him; however, it only slowed him down. Magmarta continued to battle against the wizard’s brother, striking hard and trying to decapitate him. Barely evading his monstrous attacks, Dargain involuntarily retracted beside a cliff.

  “Brother!” gasped Frostwarm, warily approaching since his powerful magic seemed to have little effect on Magmarta.

  The dwarf guffawed, swiping his sword in an arc. Even though his attack was deflected, he managed to kick Dargain off the ledge. Falling down, Dargain slammed against a lower crag. Groaning in pain, he got to his feet. At that precise moment, Magmarta leaped down and struck Dargain in midflight. Crisscrossing his swords, Dargain deflected another vehement assault. Yet he was pushed back, almost tumbling into the flowing lava behind him.

  Magmarta continued to guffaw, his laughter turning into a cackle. “Your precious people have been sacrificed,” he said. “Your lover lies dead. Your heroes lay broken. Your kingdom is shattered. The immortal Spirits have turned away from you, Vlydyonian. It is only a matter of time before the rest of your race is forsaken.”

  Dargain wanted to scream and charge at him recklessly. Yet he breathed deeply, trying to quell the rage within him. Channeling his energy, he decided to remain balanced. Embracing the rage-like style of fighting he’d learned from Kaylana, as well as remembering his own method of defensive combat, he straightened his posture and exhaled calmly. He waited for Magmarta who impatiently advanced, attacking him with a fierceness that seemed unnatural. Despite the dwarf swiping his sword a dozen times, Dargain parried each attack and riposted. Though he only hit the dwarf once, his breastplate cracked what with it being encased in ice.

  “I thought your armor was immune to magic,” said Dargain.

  “Fool!” bellowed Magmarta. “This is nothing compared to the perfection I have crafted.” He pressed down a lever adjacent to him, causing two wheels with chains to spin madly. When this occurred, a platform above the massive forge descended, revealing an eight-foot-tall metal being whose empty husk awaited a host. “Behold: my eternal legacy!”

  “You and your grim legacy will soon be forgotten,” said Dargain, steadfast.

  Enraged by his words, Magmarta roared and charged forth. Purposely leaving himself open for an attack in an attempt to entice the crazed dwarf to strike first, Dargain flipped over him and then pirouetted, his head avoiding decapitation by a hair. He then struck with all his might, shattering Magmarta’s helmet. Dargain immediately thrust his forehead against the dwarf’s. Upon dazing him, Dargain kicked his knee, not only cracking the icy armor but snapping the bone back. Without reprieve, Dargain swung his swords across Magmarta’s bearded visage, splitting his alloy eye.

  When it split, a beam of light emitted from the empty socket. Even though it momentarily blinded Dargain, it caused Magmarta to scream horrifically. Trying to conceal the magical ray, he brought his cobalt hands to his face. Yet the beam shattered them upon impact, causing him to crumble to his knees.

  His body had apparently been fused with so much magic that it was backfiring on him, thought Dargain. Whether the alloy eye acted as a charm to protect the dwarf, he decided to use this weakness to his advantage. Seeing the dwarf’s metal-strewn body cracking, Dargain struck him one last time and kicked him off the ledge. Magmarta fell into the sizzling lava, his voice and bones dissolving until only his legacy remained.

  “So much for transcending.”

  Dargain breathed deeply, relieved that the battle was over; though, his victory came at a great cost. Not only did he lose his most beloved comrade, but many people from Hasgrith had been sacrificed. Furthermore, he’d disobeyed the king by recruiting his brother. Thinking about these things, he didn’t want to leave.

  Hearing his companions cheer, however, made him change his mind. He decided to try climbing up when Frostwarm teleported him to the central chamber. Upon materializing by the forge, his fellow guardians praised him.

  “I couldn’t have defeated him without your help,” said Dargain. “But now we must dispose of his atrocious creation and free any survivors.”

  His fellow guardians complied, throwing the arcane armor on the platform into the lava. Although it didn’t liquefy—at least for now—Dargain and the others sincerely hoped it would remain here for eternity, never to be found.

  Over the next few hours, the survivors returned to Hasgrith with the help of Dargain and his companions. As it turned out, there were still hundreds of them left. Olwe saw fear in their eyes when he tried to help them and quickly returned to Jerelaith, somehow feeling guilty for what had happened. When the entire populace of Hasgrith returned home, Frostwarm teleported back to Nor’tai’quil, which was the mage tower in Jerelaith.

  That very night, the guardians of Vlydyn helped Dargain create a memorial by one of the temples in Hasgrith for Taveric’s entourage, Argrigoth, and Kaylana. Tears in his eyes, Dargain dug Kaylana’s swords in the ground and held her headband tight.

  “You will never be forgotten,” he whispered.

  On the following day, Dargain and his comrades returned to the capital on their unicorns. News traveled quickly thanks to Olwe, and the people of Jerelaith greeted them with countless praises. Dargain didn’t feel like smiling. He’d lost so much and witnessed such awful things. Yet he smiled for their sake. This victory wasn’t for him; it was for the people, he conceded.

  All that was left was to see the king and receive his punishment. Dismounting his steed, he entered the castle. Taveric and the other knights weren’t far behind him. Upon reaching the throne room, a guard let them in. Dargain an
d his companions approached the king, kneeling before him.

  “Rise,” said King Beregeth firmly. The moment they stood up, the king continued, “Olwe told me quite a tale.”

  “Magmarta was ruthless, Your Majesty,” said Taveric.

  The king remained silent for a moment. Then he responded, “To think somebody could perform such heinous crimes right in front of our eyes.” He sighed heavily. “I can see and yet I am blind.”

  “It was not your fault, Sire,” said Dargain.

  Hearing his voice, the king snorted. “What wasn’t my fault? Magmarta’s madness or your treason for disobeying me?”

  Dargain grew pale, his eyes downcast.

  “I was wrong about Magi Frostwarm, Your Majesty,” said Taveric. “Though I may distrust the Magi, he is an exception. Without his aid, we would have never—”

  “I’ve heard quite enough,” interjected the king.

  “Forgive me,” said Taveric, taking a step back.

  “To be honest,” continued the king, “I am to blame for both occurrences. The only difference is your actions have made me realize that your disloyalty was for the sake of my people—your people.”

  “Sire?” replied Dargain, confused.

  King Beregeth rose from his throne and approached the knights. “Kneel,” he said. When the guardians kneeled, the king went on, “Whether man or woman, there is only one person who has the authority to supersede my decisions. That person is the Master of Vlydyn. That person is you, Dargain. From this day forward, you shall be forever known as Master Dargain.”

  An explosion of applauses ignited. Nobles, knights, clerics, and wizards praised Dargain who remained frozen in awe. When he finally had the strength to stand, Taveric and the other guardians lifted him up on their shoulders. Wizards, including Frostwarm, conjured confetti and threw it in the air.