 |
| Sargathos the Man-Dracolich |
Sargathos tries to evade it, but the gap between the strings
becomes narrower and narrower. A fly can hardly fly through it, and for this
huge monstrosity, it’s absolutely impossible.
CRASSHH!
CRASSH! CRASH!
Even the
mandracolich’s skeletal, tough crust is cracked under the sharpness of those
lines of light, as though a thousand needles piercing through him. In addition,
the holy energy from the piercings stays inside his body, inhibiting the flow
of dark energy, thus paralyzing him. Sargathos falls all the way down to the
burning city below him.
BBAAMMM!!
Chris and
Acavela reappear in front of Sargathos the mandracolich. Their auras have reached maximum, and their
bodies are glowing as if gods. Even so, they just have enough to deal one,
finishing blow.
‘Come on,
what are you waiting for? Just do away with me! I don’t want to go on living as
a heap of broken bones like this!’
‘Than might
be as well as your just reward, Sargathos,’ says Chris calmly. ‘You killed
dragons indiscriminantly just to drink their blood and eat their hearts,
whereas a good dragon slayer only kills those of a menace.
The one
that killed you was Algaban, the Ancient Red Dragon. Judging from the version
of your story, I think you’ve lied. A dragon slayer always does a thorough
research before doing his job. So, I think you were hired to kill Algaban by no
other than the one who transformed you, Zal’fira the Necromancess.’
‘H-how did
you know that?’ said the mandracolich, still lying helpless, paralyzed and
vulnerable.
‘Because I
and my friends have fought her in her second attempt to rob Algaban of
the Adair’s Arsenal she was guarding. Looks like you didn’t do a thorough
research on me first when you decided to hunt me down. Well, I hid my true
identity back then, but my father acknowledged my feat in Hvalgarr when he
dubbed me as a Paladin. Well, at least someone has done his homework.’
‘So, what
are you waiting for?’ Sargathos sounds weak, desperate and impatient. ‘I wans’t
smart enough to survive in this dragon hunting trade. I was swayed by the
Necromancess’ lies and promises of absolute power. Apparently, she used me as a
bait!
I thought I
got the power that I wanted, but I was wrong. I am the strongest mandracolich,
but I’m lost to the true Power of Light, a power far greater than mine. Guess I
can’t convince you to become a mandracolich after all, eh. Now please. End my
life now, free me from my misery.’
To the
mandracolich’s surprise, Chris shakes his head, saying, ‘No, I won’t do that.
Let Vadis be the judge of life and death, not me. I did all this just to make
you realize your errors, your weak points. I don’t want to be a murderer.’
OUEEK! The
mandracolich vomits blood and says, ‘Huh! Now it’s you who haven’t researched on
undeads thoroughly! Can’t you see, it’s too late for me now. I have a cursed
life, cursed body, and frankly speaking, like all undead, I’m already dead. I’d
rather die and pay for my sins in hell than spending eternity as a paralyzed
cripple! Now I’m not welcome in this world and the underworld. Unless Vadis is
willing to forgive my sins, hell is my only option.
So, I’m
begging you, please! You’ll torture me if you let me live. Kill me! It’ll do me
far more good. Please!’
‘Hm, I
understand now. This cursed life is Vadis’ way to give you the chance to see
the light. Know this, Vadis is willing to forgive all sins, even from an
undead, if he truly repents.’
‘Really?
Vadis, if you’re willing, please forgive my sins and embrace me in your loving
hands. Go ahead. I’m ready.’ The mandracolich tries to smile but his skull-like
face is impossible for all expressions.
‘Very well,
I’ll help you.’
Chris uses
his excess mana and does a single thrust with concentrated full power: Singular Voice of Truth. CRASSH! The
blade of Excalibur breaks the crust,
goes all the way through the mandracolich’s chest and heart. Green, slimy blood
gushes out from that wound.
Sargathos
screams in pain. With his dying breath, he mutters, ‘Vadis, you’re calling me!
I... come.’
Thus ends a
cursed life and begins a blessed afterlife.
Rest in peace, Sargathos.
Chris takes a bow, takes his sword out from
the dead mandracolich and looks around. Terror comes to his face. Oh, no! Dalamar is on fire and I just
realized that. I must assist my comrades!
Mounting his faithful griffin Acavela, he
soars up to the sky and surveys around.
As
instructed, the troops make their stand on the city gates. They don’t seem
panicked to see the burning city behind them. Wave after wave of enemy attacks
come. Iris and Carolyn are battling the Succubus Queen, displaying awesome
teamwork and great effort, making the fight more balanced. No one of them seems
winning, yet.
Next, Chris
sees big waves of water rolling in the city. Taking a closer look, it’s Ney along
with some water mages and the guardian spirit Res’marth extinguishing the fire,
opening up areas into which the whole army can regroup in case they’re beaten
back.
Looks like the Paladins and Generals have
done some improvisations while I was occupied. Now what should I do now? Fight
the Succubus Queen, or pull the troops back to the city center?
Suddenly, a
voice startles Chris.
‘GYAAAH!!’
A griffin
rider falls from the sky with a deathly scream.
The griffin riders are in trouble! Now I
know what to do!
‘HYAARGHH!!’
Chris darts
with incredible speed, bashing and slashing the enemies in his way. CRASH!
CRASSH!! He splits twenty monsters in one go, and about a hundred more attack
him from all directions!
‘Just like
in Myrcalia, eh, buddy?’ says Chris to Acavela while swings his sword and moves
gently like a breeze. His sword emits threads of light flailing and
criss-crossing beautifully like a lady knitting. Even the beastly monsters are
allured into the graceful atmosphere until the threads of light chop them into
pieces. Such is the power of Guiding
Lights of Faith, the gentleness that conquers ferociousness.
The
enemies, however, heep on coming and coming, wave after wave, and this time
Chris is as overwhelmed as his comrades are. He needs to pump up more holy
power to unleash another attack, and the winged monsters don’t give him a
chance to do it.
This is bad! The griffin riders can’t endure
any longer in this unfavorable situation! If help doesn’t come soon, we’ll all
be history!
Chris slays the beasts one by one, and
takes numerous blows in return. Those blows hardly hurt him physically, but the
sight of his comrades hurting and falling one by one is really a blow that
breaks his heart.
A griffin
rider slays a wyvern rider, and harpy attacks him at the same time. Chris steps
in and CRASSHH!! He splits the harpy in two. But a group of imps run through
that ill-fated griffin rider, and he and his griffin fall to their deaths.
Again, a great flock of monsters are targeting the Heir of Vadis, and this time
they make sure that he won’t unleash any fancy move.
What can
two hands do against such a flock? Some quick slashes and bolts of light might
do the trick, but the enemy attacks are too frequent, eating away his
protection aura.
It’s only a
matter of time before Chris gets exhausted. He’s already suffering from
internal wounds and as he’s still an ordinary human being, he has limits.
Acavela, on the other hand, packs a lesser defense with its lightweight griffin
armor and relies solely on Chris’ protection aura.
Amidst
those ceaseless attacks, Chris thinks of his father, brother, and most of
all... Eloise, looks like I won’t be able
to rescue you after all. I’ve tried my best to show my love to you and all the
good things and beings in this world. Just be patient, Eloise. If I should
fall, maybe Robert will do a better job by bringing you home safe and sound.
But wait! Speaking of ‘sound’, what sound is that?
CHITTER! CHITTER! BANG! BANG!
Chris tries
to take a good look through this flock of blockades, and his heard gets a great
relief as he witnesses his attackers fall one by one like coconuts from the
tree.
It’s the gyropters! Help comes at last, we
are fighting fit now!
Not only the gyropters come. A flock of
firebirds (lesser phoenixes or little phoenixes) also join in and even the
odds. The head of the gyropter-firebird squad is none other than Ivor the
Beardless, who finally gained help after a long debate with the Supreme Council
of Parthenia.
The dwarf
gunners and bombardiers shoot accurately, relieving the attacks on Chris and
CRASSH! CRASH-CRASH! A Speedy Strikes of
Diligence with the Excalibur finishes
the job.
‘Are you
alright, Your Majesty?’ says Ivor as he comes next to Chris. The Emperor nods
and pats his pet, Acavela, saying, ‘Yes, thank you. Thank you so much for
coming on time with help. Now, let’s finish these abominations and assist the
ground units.’
‘No, Your
Majesty,’ Ivor replies straightforwardedly. ‘Let me handle the air fight. You
help out the ground units. Your griffin needs some rest, and the Parthenian
mechas will arrive soon.’
‘Good idea,
Ivor. You take care up here, okay. Just hang on until the first division
arrives. May Vadis watch over you.’
‘And over
you too. Well, I’m a Vadisian now.’
‘I’m so glad
for you. See you later.’ Saying that, Chris dives to Dalamar.
==oOo==
Cristophe
descends and takes a look at the current situation.
The fight
is still on. The fire in Dalamar is out, thanks to Ney and her fire extinguisher
squad. However, the Allied Forces have all retreated from the outer walls and
concentrated all their forces in the city fortress.
The fort is
badly damaged because of the previous battles, and still, its walls provide
enough protection for the defendants.
The Dark
Forces are still strong and pressing on. They outnumber the Allied Forces by
one and a half times, and their leader, the Succubus Queen keeps the troops
fierce by shooting Dark Disintegration blasts
at the Paladins.
This puts
Chris in a dilemma. Ah, must I fight that
she-devil again? Acavela is tired and I, too might not have enough strength for
another big duel. Oh, well, I guess I must entrust the ‘power girls’ with this.
A near death experience with a mandracolich is enough experience for one day,
and I still have a wife and a brother to rescue.
The Heir of Vadis makes up his mind and
chooses the spot where the enemy pressure is the strongest – a spot quite far
to and overlooked by the hectic Paladins – He lands, leaves the griffin in the
center where it’s the safest and rushes to the front line.
‘HEEEAAAH!!!’
Chris
charges like wildfire, cutting through zombies and skeletal soldiers before the
victims even realize what hits them. He attacks fiercely as well as carefully,
because he’s assisting his comrades, not showing off his power and boosting his
pride.
Still, no
matter how hard he tries to conceal himself, the enemies still sense his
annoying, intimidating, opposite aura of the one they regard as ‘abominations’.
Instead of running away, more and more enemies come. Apparently, they’ve been
brainwashed to kill the Heir of Vadis, their primary target.
On the
other hand, instead of pulling back behind his comrades, Chris embraces one
wave after another with his legendary sword as if he enjoys it.
I’ve never been in so much carnage since
Enia’s Sanctum. It feels... nostalgic. Bring it on, you bastards. Bring it on.
And more screams of death fill the air.
Another
hour passes, and even with the Parthenian mecha troopers’ help, a multitude of
undead is still too much to handle. Even Chris, with all his godly arsenal on
begins to get exhausted now. Plus, he is internally injured from this showdown
and his previous duels. So, when the Great Paladin wipes out yet another group
of undead soldiers, he falls on his knees.
This is bad, we can’t go on like this.
He looks around. His cousin Carol and her
two fellow Paladins are still fighting the Succubus Queen, either side can’t
win against the other.
Even devils get tired, too, but they’re
still too numerous.,
‘GYAARGH!’ An elf gets slain by two
gargoyles (winged demons) and Chris can’t do anything about it. His hands just
reaches out, and a dwarf’s head comes rolling in front of him.
Our numbers are dwindling. I... I can’t help
them!
An Arcadian soldier rushes to his side and
repels the enemies single-handedly.
He seems quite skilled, and he fights
valiantly, worthy of a good leader. I’ll remember his face and name and promote
him once this battle is over.
‘Are you all right, Your Majesty?’ the
soldier asks. ‘Cedric’s here to he... AAAGH!’ He stops miday, his face loses
expression and the fateful soldier falls on the ground lifeless with the arrow
nested in his back.
Another good man bites the dust... That’s it! This is now
or never! Die trying or die anyway! This is my last stand!
So, as another wave of enemies comes, Chris
gets up immediately, raises his sword and shouts to his troops, ‘For Eternia!
FIGHT TO THE DEATH!’
The troops’
response is various: ‘For Eternia! Fight to the death!’ and is relayed
throughout the fortress. Everyone in the Light Side is now aware that now is
the time of the hardest and – most likely – the last battle of his life.
The elves
give their best shots, emptying all arrows from their quivers. Many powerful
dark creatures can’t escape being permanently disabled once the elves mark
them.
The dwarves
are like the last walls of defense. Together they form a Swastika Formation on
the east part of the fort, moving like a windmill fan, trapping and surrounding
the enemies. They show an outstanding teamwork and keep the casualties at the
minimum.
The
Parthenian mecha squad are as tough as they are lethal. Each man drives a mechanized,
steam-powered ‘armor’ which is double or triple the driver’s size – the mecha
golem with built-in mini cannon, flamethrower, gun on each. It can also wield
swords and other hand-held weapons. An improvement on these power-packed golems
will open the path for Parthenia and the entire Aurelia Continent to a new,
modern age.
On the
contrary, the Arcadian soldiers are overwhelmed by the enemies, and they fight
the hardest just to survive the day. Along with these troops, Cristophe fights,
and if he should die, he will die along with his troops.
‘Do or die,
Arcadia!!’ Nothing can stop them now. Nothing. Even when death takes their
comrades one-by-one. Every man they lost is every tear they shed.
A group of
undead surrounds Chris, and he fights back with Whirlwind Slash, spinning, blocking and cutting them all with his
sword and shield. Just as he finishes that move, BUG! Chris’ foot trips on a
rock. Again he falls down, this time in the midst of the enemies.
Chris
reacts so fast by turning around and blocking three blows in one time with his
shield. The attacks keep coming, and the Arcadians push forward for rescue.
‘Forward!
Protect the Emperor!’
‘No! Don’t
get out of the line!’ Chris tries to warn them but nobody seems to listen. The
defense formation breaks, and blow by blow hit the Emperor like a rain of
boulders, hurting him from the inside.
‘AARGH!’ He
scremas in pain. Blood comes out from his visor and the gaps between the plates
of his armor. His hands feel numb, his sword feels heavier. His strength is
failing him, only his spirit keeps him going on.
A headless
man happens to be in a right spot and is going for the grand prize by beheading
the Heir of Vadis with his axe. Chris tries to block but his hands won’t come
up. He knows it at once.
This time it’s for real, the end of the
road. Good bye, Eloise, Carol, Robert, Iris, brother, father...
JLUUUBBB!!!
Eh? There’s no pain at all! Is this what
death feels like? But wait! The pain from the blows is still here! I... I’m
still breathing! That means... My head is still intact!
That thought flashes in a second, and then
Cristophe looks at the enemies in front of him. Among them is the headless man,
who stands like a statue. The axe falls from his hands and the humanoid monster
falls to the front with an arrow stuck on his back.
Attacks from their back? Is there a
dissension within their ranks? Or, maybe...
Chris hears noises from afar, and the
voices are somewhat... friendly. Spirited war cries, steady gallops and beasts’
roars turn into a beautiful symphony in his heart.
The
symphony of deliverance and hope.
The next
moment, come loud, screeching sounds of a thousand wheels, and as Chris looks
from the source of the voice comes a white-haired knight wielding a blazing,
vermillion saber, riding an armored horse in an extraordinarily fast pace. He
recognizes that knight at once.
Yes, he is
indeed the Paladin, Robert Chandler the Orcbane. Actually, someone might want
to change his nickname to ‘Darkbane’ because he has killed far more undead
than orcs now.
The
chariots are unstoppable. More and more undead are slain in their way, and they
are as though opening the path for the main army.
Robert
looks around and nods. He has ‘opened the path’, and now he dismounts from his
horse Paeldagrin and comes near Chris. He looks very worried.
‘Are you
all right, Your Majesty?’ Rob asks. Chris suddenly feels a deja vu. It’s the
third time he hears someone say that to him. A ghoul comes near and attacks
Rob, and the next moment it falls and its head rolling to a different
direction. Rob sheathes his sword on his back and holds Chris, saying, ‘Can you
hear me, Your Majesty? Are you all right?’
Chris just
stares at Rob, and with a feeble voice he answers, ‘Robert... P-praise Vadis...
T-thank you for your he...’
Chris
collapses. At the last moment, Chris sees Robert’s face blurring and hears him
say, ‘Brace yourself, Your Majesty, don’t...’
And all
goes black.
Dracolich (Luffiedesign) in http://flickrhivemind.net/Tags/daemon,dragon/Interesting
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