Immortal Swordslinger 3

by Dante King

  Tahlis popped up out of the sand beside me, his blood-stained spear in his hands.

  “Those are Targin’s personal bodyguards,” he said as he pointed to the warriors on the roof. “Augmenters, cult disciples, and once initiates of the guild. I taught them, and I can tell you, there’s a reason Targin chose those four. They’re as effective as they are cruel.”

  He vanished back into the sand only to pop up a moment later amid a cluster of surprised soldiers. He attacked them with his spear and blasted with Sandstorms. A mischievous grin never left his face.

  “I see that you’re everything I heard, Swordslinger!” Targin shouted. “Hiding behind half-breeds and women. I think it’s time to change that. I’ll cut down every one of them, and then, I’ll deal with you.”

  He jumped off the rooftop and started running through the battle. His target was clear—Kumi and Vesma, fighting at the edge of the village.

  I’d only just met him, but I was already sick of his bullshit. He was a petty, posturing, arrogant asshole. But from what the others had said, I also knew that he was a deadly warrior and a powerful Augmenter, one who could be a real threat to my friends.

  I ran after him, determined not to let him get to the others before I did. His guards fanned out behind him, looked all around, and spotted me. They spread out, ready to block my path.

  As Targin ran, the fight eddied around him. A pair of combatants staggered out from behind a house, their weapons locked together, grappling for dominance. One was a Hyng’ohr soldier, another nameless face in the crowd. But the other I instantly recognized—the gangling figure of Choshi. She had her back to Targin and didn’t see the false lord coming.

  Targin swung his mace with both hands, and it smashed into the back of Choshi’s head with a sickening crack. There was a spray of blood, her neck bent at an impossible angle, and she collapsed to the ground.

  “No!” I heard the word come tearing unbidden from my throat. I could do nothing but stand and stare at the body of the young woman I had taught, the reluctant leader who had found the courage to guide her friends out of the city and into our ragtag resistance band. She had struggled to find the right path, set on avenging her brother’s death, and now, it had all come to nothing.

  No, not nothing. I would make sure that vengeance was had.

  My pulse pounded like a war drum in my ears as I gripped my sword tight and went charging after Targin.

  I’d barely gone two steps when the ground in front of me rippled with the force of a Ground Strike. I leaped over that wave of magical destruction, but another one was coming in close behind. This time, I was hit and flung from my feet. I landed with a thud, shaken and aching, and looked up to see Targin’s bodyguards blocking my way. One of them punched the ground, and another wave of earth power came crashing toward me.

  A large hand grabbed me by the collar and hauled me up off the ground. Kegohr jumped aside, carrying me with him, and the Ground Strike shot past.

  “I’ve got to get past them,” I said to Kegohr. “Targin’s on a rampage, and they’re keeping me from him.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Kegohr said. “Let’s smash them then.”

  He charged straight at the bodyguards, his Flame Shield raised, and I ran with him.

  As he charged, Kegohr launched blasts of fire from the front of the shield. They shot straight toward the closest bodyguard. She raised her arm, which turned to stone a moment before the fire hit, so that his attack burst harmlessly across the magical protection.

  More Ground Strikes shot out from the bodyguards. I leaped over one, and the impact of another shattered the Frozen Armor around my legs, but it wasn’t enough to knock me down, so I kept running toward the enemy.

  If I was going to get close, I needed a way to stop them from constantly targeting me. With so much of my Vigor already used up, high-powered attacks weren’t an option, but I’d developed a big bag of tricks that I could draw from.

  I called forth the power of ash and sent it streaming from my hands. An Ash Cloud formed around the heads of the bodyguards and blocked their view of my charge.

  Immediately, a bodyguard flung his hands wide. A Sandstorm shot out from him, its scouring wind dispersing the ash and leaving the bodyguards’ view clear. A foot stamped down, and another Ground Strike rippled toward me.

  Kegohr’s reserves of energy also seemed to be running low. His Spirit of the Wildfire had worn off, and he was left fighting with his natural strength. It was impressive, but it wasn’t the same as having the Vigor empower him with the strength and fury of the most destructive element.

  He reached the nearest bodyguard and swung his mace with both hands. She blocked it with a two-handed warhammer, its head a brutally spiked weight in the shape of some ancient and vicious bird. While Kegohr drew back, she swung the weapon around to hit him with the counterweight on the base. He dodged, took a glancing blow in the side, and came at her with his mace again.

  I was almost in the fight now, and still looking for ways to even the odds. I sent Vigor through the channels in my body, down my legs, and into the ground. It arced back up beneath one of the bodyguards, and a Plank Pillar shot up in a spray of sand. It sent one bodyguard flying and blocked the others’ view of me as I drew near.

  There was a crash as a club with a heavy stone head collided with the pillar. The planks fell to the ground, clearing the space between us.

  I raised my hand and sprayed a burst of thorns at the warrior with the club. Before the projectiles could strike his face, his skin turned gray as granite, and the thorns shattered against it.

  Quickly, I reached into my mud channels and summoned another Mud Entrapment. The ground beneath the bodyguard turned to sludge, and he started sinking into it. He pulled one arm free, but that only made the other one sink deeper. He shouted in rage as his whole body was slowly sucked into the damp sand.

  I ran into the other two bodyguards with my sword and my Flame Shield raised. Immediately, a blow hit me on the shield so hard that it sent me staggering back. These disciples, trained in the earth techniques of the Steadfast Horn Guild and empowered by the dark arts of the Unswerving Shadows Cult, were physically strong and probably strengthened by earth magic. The weight of their weapons added to the incredible impact of their blows. Bones ground against each other in my shoulder at the force of the hit, and I was lucky to stay on my feet.

  I was going to have to rely on agility over toughness to deal with these two.

  As the next swing of that great club came in, I jumped aside. The head of the weapon hit the ground, and sand sprayed around us. I’d expected to have a moment to strike back, but the other bodyguard was on me. I had to dodge one sweeping blow from a five-foot scimitar, jump over another, and catch a third on my shield. Pain flared through my arm at another great jolt, but I stood my ground and counter-attacked with the Sundered Heart. A thrust of my blade scored a charred line across the bodyguard’s leather armor but didn’t get through to the flesh beneath.

  “Slay these fools!” Nydarth yelled inside my head.

  The two men circled to come at me from opposite sides. I parried a blow from one, dodged an attack from the other, and channeled wood. A Plank Pillar burst from the ground beneath my feet. It propelled me into the air even as it separated my two opponents. I sprang from the top and landed behind one of them. I brought my sword around and caught him in the side. Blood sprayed as I cut through his armor, and he grimaced, but even with the trickle of red running down his side, he raised his hammer and slammed it down with a mighty force.

  I had to stay engaged with this guy, to try to deal with him in the few seconds before his comrade came around the Plank Pillar. Instead of leaping clear of the blow, I raised the Sundered Heart at an angle. The club hit it and slid along the blade in a shower of sparks.

  I raised my Flame Shield and shot a blast of fire straight into the bodyguard’s face. He closed his eyes, and his skin turned to stone a moment before the flames hit. While he wasn’t looking,
I swept the Sundered Heart around, aiming for his shoulder.

  Another weapon blocked the strike. I turned to see the bodyguard who I had mired in Mud Entrapment. He was dripping in mud but was otherwise unharmed, and his face was screwed up in fury. For a moment, we were back to two-to-one odds. Then, the third guard appeared around the Plank Pillar.

  To my left, Kegohr was still locked in combat with the female guard. Their blows filled the air with resounding clangs as heavy weapons slammed against each other again and again. Neither seemed able to gain enough advantage to finish the other off.

  Then, fire flared in Kegohr’s eyes. The flames spread across his face, down his body, and out along his arms and legs. From somewhere inside him, he had found the Vigor to power the Spirit of the Wildfire once more.

  His next blow hit the shaft of the bodyguard’s warhammer. The wooden pole had been reinforced with bands of steel that should have made it near unbreakable, but as Kegohr’s blow hit, there was a crack, and the shaft split. The bodyguard was left staring in shock at two splinted ends of wood.

  Kegohr gripped her head in his massive palm and tossed her into the guards that had me surrounded. Her body struck the guard nearest to me with a sickening thud, and the two went tumbling across the dirt, neither getting up.

  Kegohr charged toward me and arrived with an almighty roar, like a wild beast unleashed. Blows rained around him in a berserker fury that scattered the bodyguards.

  “Go find Targin,” Kegohr growled. “Leave these to me.”

  I didn’t want to leave my friend facing two Augmenters of incredible skill, but the choice wasn’t just about him. With Targin after them, Vesma and Kumi were also in terrible danger. These bodyguards might be tough, but Targin came from the same stock as Ganyir and had been through the same upbringing and training. With the stone golem gone, there could hardly be a more deadly opponent here.

  I broke clear of the fight and ran through the village, heading in the direction I’d last seen Targin go.

  The sand-sunken village, already battered by the ravages of time and the Vigorous Zone, had been further devastated by a fight between multiple Augmenters. Chunks were missing from buildings, blown clear by magic or knocked out by wild weapon swings. Crimson patches of sand spread out from fallen bodies as the blood stained the ground. The earth beneath my feet shook from the impacts of earth magic.

  A pair of Hyng’ohr soldiers blocked my path, both holding bronze-headed two-handed maces. I drew the Depthless Dream Trident and came at them with dual spirit weapons.

  The first of the soldiers brought his mace back and swung it in an exaggerated arc. I caught it on the Depthless Dream, and the shaft slid between two prongs of my trident, locking the weapons together. The soldier pushed, and I pushed back, each straining to wrench the weapon from the other’s hands.

  The other soldier took the opportunity to try to get a hit in, but I blocked his attack with the Sundered Heart, then swung low. He screamed as my flaming sword sliced through his leg, and he fell to the ground, clutching the cauterized stump.

  The first soldier pushed harder at his mace, trying to force me into a retreat. I went with the movement and swayed back a single step. As he came forward, I brought up the Sundered Heart and stabbed. The tip of the spirit weapon easily punctured his armor, and the blade slid through his chest from front to back. The mace fell from his grip and dropped to the ground a moment before his body did.

  I freed my trident from the mace and ran on, still looking for Targin. Another soldier, showing more courage than sense, leaped at me from the side with a swing of his mace. I ducked beneath the blow, did a forward roll clear of his next swing, and came back to my feet facing him. He stood staring wide-eyed at me and my two weapons, one coated in flames, the other in frost. When I swung high with the Sundered Heart, he raised his weapon to parry the feint, but I impaled him on my trident’s prongs.

  “Well done,” Yono said in my head. “Let the trident’s shape guide you and help you fight with a flow like the ocean.”

  “Or you could just stab people with the pointy end,” Nydarth retorted.

  Their words barely even registered in my mind. I had finally caught sight of Targin. He was standing on the roof of a pagoda from where he could survey the battle zone. Kumi and Vesma had obviously evaded his sight until now, but it was clear he was scanning the battleground for them. He held a sword high, and there was a wild look in his eyes.

  I ran toward him, through the madness of the battle. Ganyir and Tahlis were nearby, battling a band of Augmenters. Sand flew around them, and the ground shook as both sides used the earth element against each other. A building collapsed as a shock wave hit it and sent more dust into the air.

  Ganyir grabbed an opponent by the head and hurled him bodily at the others, then jumped in after, his arrival shaking the ground beneath them. Tahlis seemed to blink in and out of existence as he appeared from the ground behind a shocked soldier, ran him through, then disappeared again.

  Vesma and Kumi ran out of a nearby building, pursued by snarling Hyng’ohr warriors. Blood was running down Vesma’s arm, and Kumi was fumbling with a waterskin as they ran, pulling out the stopper so that she could use her healing magic. As they appeared, a grin spread on Targin’s face.

  I raced toward them, shouting for attention. My cries were lost amid the screams and crashes of battle, unheard by my friends.

  Someone else heard, though. An Augmenter peeled away from the fight with Ganyir and charged at me. I readied myself for another clash, but six feet away, the sand swallowed him.

  I stared at the ground, watching for any sign of where his Hidden Burrow technique was taking him. Suddenly, there was a noise behind me, and I felt sand spray my back. I flung myself clear as a sword sliced through the air where my neck had been. I spun around, but the Augmenter was already sinking into the sand.

  I could use some one-handed techniques, so I slung the Depthless Dream Trident back into place on my back. I stood in the center of an open patch of ground, circling slowly, watching for any sign of movement. That Augmenter could come from anywhere, but I couldn’t watch everywhere at once.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the sand shift. I turned and raised my hand, just as the Augmenter shot up into view. His sword was already swinging, but I swayed back, and it hissed past an inch from my chest. Before the Augmenter could sink into the sand again, I fired a burst of superheated Untamed Torch at the ground. The sand turned to glass, and the Augmenter failed to vanish. I kept my hand raised, but this time, I produced a volley of Stinging Palm thorns. The wooden spikes flooded his face until he looked like a human pincushion. He dropped soundlessly to his death.

  A battle cry made me look up from the grizzly remains. Targin was shouting at the top of his lungs as he jumped off the top of the pagoda.

  As he dropped to the ground, a Sandstorm swept up below him. He flew on the sandy whirlwind while he swept his free hand in a diagonal arc through the air. Another Sandstorm appeared, and this one smashed Vesma and Kumi. The technique flung them to the ground as Vesma’s spear went flying and Kumi’s precious water poured out of the fallen bottle to darken the pale sand.

  Targin landed between them with a look of triumph in his eyes. He glanced over at me with a smirk, and my blood ran cold as he raised his sword over Vesma’s neck.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Targin and I stood staring at each other. There was a mad gleam in his eyes, the look of a man who really was enjoying the destruction he had unleashed.

  “Say goodbye to your pretty little friends, Swordslinger,” he said.

  There was no way I could cross the ground to him before he brought his club down on Vesma’s head. My magic, on the other hand…

  I flooded my mud channels with Vigor and allowed the magical energy to flow down through me, into the ground, and over to where Targin stood. I had to be precise since he was standing between my two fallen companions and I didn’t want to catch them in the blast. I narrowed m
y mind, shutting out all other thoughts and fears, so that my whole focus was on where the magic was going.

  A Mud Geyser exploded from the ground beneath Targin’s feet. It hit with such concentrated force that it sent him flying. He hurtled back through the air and crashed through the window of a pagoda, shattering the shutters on his way through.

  Mud rained down on Kumi and Vesma. They started to stir, hauling themselves slowly off the ground. That was all I needed to see; as long as they were safe, I could focus on my target.

  I ran in through the door of the pagoda. Inside was a sand-swept hall that had once been the receiving room of someone relatively wealthy. Moth-eaten tapestries hung from the walls, and a large wooden chair, its back intricately carved with images of legendary beasts, stood at the end of the room.

  In the middle of the room, Targin was pulling himself up out of the splintered remains of a once-sturdy table. He got to his feet, picked up his club, and faced me.

  “So, you have a handful of dirty tricks,” Targin said. “Bastard, hybrid magic for a friend of the bastard, hybrid Wilds. You’re probably the sort of filthy swine who fucks trolls and ogres too, aren’t you? No sense of the superiority of your own kind.”

  “Don’t give me that Straight Path bullshit,” I said. “All your talk of purity is just an excuse to justify your own power and keep yourselves on top. You’re parasites, sucking the blood from the rest of society. Murderers draining the lives of the innocent to make yourselves feel important.”

  “Big words for someone who’s barely finished as a guild initiate. Let’s see what you’re really made of.”

  Targin stamped his foot. A Ground Strike shot across the room, lifting sand and flagstones. I jumped over it, and it hit the far wall, shaking the timbers of the house. Dust fell from the rotting ceiling boards above us.

  I charged at Targin with both weapons drawn. He brought his club up and blocked my first strike from the Sundered Heart, then countered a lunge from the Depthless Dream. He fought with the whole of the war club, not just its ridged steel head. The shaft became a staff that he used to block my blows while the spiked butt became a weapon for stabbing counter-attacks that forced me back and gave him the offensive edge.