Chapter 11

The battle raged on, swords clanging and blood spilling, a melody of death. The one in the carriage jumped out with their axes swinging wildly, somehow they managed to sever the torsos of several soldiers. A large man with thick armour and a giant sword charged at the orc that just came out of the carriage, the orc grabbed the man's face and when their skin collided with the man's skin it turned white, and sickly, the skin melted and fell off of the man’s face. He screamed in pain as he regrew a silver coating of skin with coal black streaks. The man turned around and started attacking his own men, sloppily but efficiently.

“What happened?” asked Haverian.

“I don’t know, but that's not pure magic, it just corrupted him,” said Thalorian.

Old magic… that orc shouldn’t be able to use that. It is a curse. No one being can handle the power of Kurukarah. Kurukarah’s Blessing kills all who gain it.

“You know what that is,” said Limiria.

Yes. Kurukarah is the goddess of corruption, her blessing melts and corrodes anything with it.

“So it kills anyone with it, then why are they alive?” asked Haverian.

I do not know. But it is not good.

Haverian's eyes glowed a blue shade and his body twitched. He rose into the air, his mouth started moving and twitching.

“K-k-kill o-one wi-wi-with power o-over d-d-d-death,” said Haverian, or whatever was in him.

The Aternum’s voice has spoken. You must obey.

Haverian fell back to the ground, panting.

“What just happened?” asked Haverian. “What was that?!” Haverian was sweating. His clothes were drenched. His arm started moving unnaturally, reaching for his sword, he swatted it away with his skeletal arm.

An orc jumped up and rushed at them, somehow aware of their presence. It brought its arm down, Haverian raised his arm to block, the axe sparked against the bone and bounced away.

“Oh wait, that you Tornhead?” said a voice Thalorian knew, “oh and sword girl, white hair you’re here too!”

“Sharpteeth, is that you?” asked Thalorian. “Where’s Redblood?”

“Oh Redblood,” Sharpteeth paused, “he's dead.” Sharpteeth finished. “He died when demons rampaged Gorn.” Sharpteeth roared and held his head as his eyes turned a pupiless white, his skin turned the same colour as the one who had been corrupted by Kurakarah’s Blessing. He swung his axe wildly, as if he wasn’t in control. What the?

Thalorian slid under the easily dodgeable attack. Haverian punched Sharpteeth’s jaw with his bone arm. The blow was much stronger than it should have been. The curse spread onto Haverian’s bone arm, but it stopped as soon it reached his flesh and dissipated.

“I guess my arm’s immune to the blessing!” hollered Haverian to the group. Thalorian ran at the tan orc, he faked a blow to the chest, slid under and thrust his sword up while muttering something even he could barely hear.

“Did you just kill him?!” yelled Limiria, placing her hands on her forehead and bringing them down.

“Relax, I enchanted my sword, it’s non-fatal,” said Thalorian, “he’ll be up in a day completely fine.”

“I guess…” said Limiria, later she muttered, “he’s gained so much power in the few months he’s had the book.”

Thalorian sheathed his sword. “The battle’s not over, young one!” yelled a gruff voice as axes crashed into the dirt. Thalorian spun around and was about to kick whoever this person was in the head when he stopped abruptly at the sight of the orc with Kurukarah’s Blessing. He lowered his leg, and dodged another blow. Limiria slid beside him and cut into the orc’s skin. The orc didn’t flinch at the wound and struck down again on both Limiria and Haverian, they dodged as Haverian slid in and punched him in the face.

“You should be corrupted!” growled the orc.

“Voltis Elia!” yelled Thalorian, firing lightning from his hand. The orc cut through the electricity like it was paper and jumped at Thalorian, who countered with his own sword. At the sight of such sword the orc stopped fighting and a bit of blood trickled from his nose.

“You are not with the Crown, good,” said the orc. Pointing to himself he said, “I am Deadarm also known as the Spike.”

Haverian mumbled to himself, “I just punched the leader of the Eastern Isles in the face.”

“Oh it is quite all right young one I laid the first blow,” said the Spike. “But you, young one,” the Spike pointed to Limiria, “carry a Royal Blade.”

“I’m, formerly, the Second Knight of the Crown,” said Limiria. “My goal now is to kill him.”

“We share an interest then, the Crown has been attacking the Eastern Isles for a long time, even before I and he were leaders,” confessed the Spike. “You, one with the arm of death, how did you get that?” asked the Spike.

“When I put on the mask I have on now it happened, It does look pretty cool, and it’s immune to most curses,” answered Haverian.

The Spike grunted. “I would be honoured if you joined me in this battle,” said the Spike. The Spike jumped back down and continued to kill the Crown’s men, but more appeared, a familiar man was at the front of the army with his slick orange hair and thick armour and that familiar smirk. Yes this man was Byron Colesgate. The three of them jumped down and joined in on the fight, on the Spikes side of course. Thalorian slid and dashed around cutting into armour and robes making it easier for these men and women to be killed. These people weren’t his target, the man at front was, the man who started him on this path, he could have continued on the path he was on, but no this man had burned his village down to the ground.

Thalorian cut at Byron’s armour, and sliced at his face. Surprised at the strength of the blows against him Byron turned the opponent he was facing and brought his sword down on Thalorian side stepped and unleashed a flurry of blows against Byron followed by a jump upward.

“I wondered when we’d meet again!” yelled Byron, swinging his sword.

“So did I! I spent most of that time thinking of gruesome ways to kill you!” yelled Thalorian cutting at his armour once more.

“Ankhrarian goddess of destruction and creation bless my blade to destroy my enemies!” chanted Byron, his blade glowed a dark black with hints of white. His swings were much more powerful after that, severing even the air.

Thalorian ducked under another slash of this godly blade before jumping back up and using his own trump card. “Ankst!” chanted Thalorian fire that same wave of energy and Byron. Byron's armour cracked under the pressure of the blow. “Strong armour!” Thalorian yelled. They continued to duel for hours, Byron swung hard and firm, taking every hit dealt against while Thalorian dodged and slid around dealing swift strong blows to Byron’s already damaged armour. “Aress!” chanted Thalorian, a weaker blast of force hit Byron this time and shattered his breastplate, taking his opportunity Thalorian cut into Byron’s chest, slowly bringing his sword up counting every second of pain Byron was feeling. “You’ve never felt something like this have you? Well, I feel it everytime I think about what you did to me, hurts doesn’t it,” said Thalorian. He moved his sword around Byron’s heart to avoid killing him too soon. Byron screamed in pain over and over again, blood pouring out of his wounds.

“St-stop it, you can’t do this to me, I’m Byron Colesgate Third Knight of the Crown, he’ll have your head,” Byron coughed.

“Guess what, toughguy, he already wants it, your threats mean nothing to me,” said Thalorian with a small smirk on his face. “Braris.” A small flame came from his palm and maneuvered into Byron’s heart, burning it, just like Thalorians had been turned to ash when he returned to Hirenlia, with the smoke and ash everywhere, disgusting.

“I… will… be… back,” wheezed Byron.

“Thalorian! Let’s go! They’re retreating!” hollered Limiria.

“Coming!” Thalorian replied, having a quick look back at Byron’s body. He deserved it, Thalorian! Stop having pity for the man who destroyed everything!