Splitting Headache

“Then let’s not let that happen!” Roxanne roared.

Jets of vapor gave her thrust momentum into the next attack. Her muscles bulged as she concentrated. Legs shifted on the platform Kurl made while calves pumped. It looked like she floated, but she trusted it to remain firm despite the deadly drop. A flow around her body held it gently like a loose safety harness.

Her axe smashed a crevice of dusty material pushing together at the top of the sphere. A femur cracked. She didn’t flinch when the shards exploded out like shrapnel. An invisible shield protected her from the worst of it. The axe landed again, and again, striking repeated blows.

From the ground, Adam squinted through sights and adjusted his rifle, becoming steadier. Despite the injury, Kurl took total control of this vampire. Adam wondered who the real overlord was. Unfortunately, a shot presented itself for a fraction of a second. But it wasn’t a clean vector. He couldn’t manipulate his marble bullet too blatantly without risking the silver tip getting knocked off. Without the silver, a marble slug embedded in vampire flesh would be less than a splinter. If this was an overlord, even a headshot would mean little.

“I want to join them, but I’ll stick close to you,” Frederika said, the chain twirling over her head, “There are a few skeletons wondering about. And I want to keep you safe in case we get pummeled.”

“You’re not worried he’s going to drag you up there to?” Adam continued staring though as sights at Roxanne repeatedly striking the bone barrier.

Frederika’s legs shook, “No, why would he do that? You need cover. And I’m absolutely no good that high up.”

“You’re right, we’re the ace in the hole. That’s why I’m staying quiet. Because the last thing I want is for this bastard to think there’s another threat.”

“Can you use affinity flight?”

“In short bursts. It drains my mana too quickly. I’m not a freak nature like Kurl and you guys. How about you?”

“I’m afraid of heights, but I’m sure I could fly on my plates if I wanted to!”

The bone sphere floating above them crackled. A rain of shards shot at Fredericka. The whirling chain caught sharp edges attacking from above, shattered then, and batted the material. Small patches of white fog circulated, only to unwind and get blown aside in a counter whirl.

“I’m not noticing as much dust. I wonder if that’s Kurl’s doing.”

“I’m not sure,” Adam whispered, “But I wish I could fight like him.”

Above them, the sphere resembled a cracked egg broken at the top. The vampire held a sharpened blade of carved ivory in one hand and the broken spear in the other. He looked upon the clear skies with dismay. A new helm of compressed dust layered with phalanges and carpals protected his head, but his withered face and obtrusive nose were visible along with dark red eyes and deathly pale skin. The broken fortress rearranged into smaller constructs aimed at blocking Roxanne’s continual strikes. Larger material smashed into smaller material, which smashed into powder, which exited his range of control. An invisible wall smacked his body when he retreated.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Kurl yelled, “We’ve got unfinished business!”

From atop him, this Imperial soldier, this cursed throne loomed with a red halo from the setting sun. Dim blue mists twirled around the visage in the form of endless eyes forever peering through him. The mere presence of this mage made his blood boil!

Interlocked fists struck him across the back of the shoulders, yet the fists never touched him. Something invisible smashed his armor. The vampire lord slipped off his plate and fell hard. His body struck the ground with a crack. He spat blood as he wobbled to his feet. The arm holding the ivory sword hung limply, dangling broken, yet his hand gripped it.

The arm snapped back into place with a crack. He screeched at the sky, a terrible sonic cry that sounded like a plea for help.

Kurl bombarded it with zinnian blasts. They met the remaining chunks of battlefield debris and powder in a duel of dwindling mana reserves.

Roxanne dove with the steel axe on her back. A much smaller axe glinted brightly in the diminishing light.

Regenerating body tensed with fear as eyes glimmered into black dots of recognition. The vampire hissed at the silver. It blasted Roxanne with wave of debris to force her on the defensive, then used its armor to fly at Kurl. It kept a death grip on the ivory sword to prevent its capture by an invisible enemy.

In the distance, Kurl heard cheering. Men of the cannon company watched the battle, no longer threatened by skeletons. Their persecutor was completely occupied, oblivious to them. And from other direction as well, he heard the calls, the pleas to see this creature that brutally murdered their comrades put down.

The ivory blade slung across Kurl’s torso, only to graze the front of his coat. A button fell as Kurl unleashed the torment. A flurry of punches struck a vampire braced against an invisible slab. Punches like a frenzied machine battered his armor, which snapped, then cracked apart.

The pieces tried to assault him, but he batted them away. With the battle in his favor, Kurl launched a flurry of punches into the vampire’s face. Improvised armor disintegrated. His smashed nose sprayed cold blood. Bone shards floated in disarray.

The ivory sword pierced Kurl’s stomach. Blood flood out the back, but the vampire couldn’t withdraw it. Kurl’s invisible army of angelic eyes gripped it with more strength. A fierce hand gripped his shoulder; a blazing blue aura glowed like a flame from tensed knuckles.

Eyes darkened into those of an executioner. With his other hand, Kurl ran his finger straight across his neck. He’d lined this perfectly.

The vampire screeched again, loud enough to hurt his ears. The plea for reinforcements echoed across the dimming sky, “You can chop me into a million pieces with silver and I’ll come back improved,” he screeched, “I’ll never forget your face. Human! Filth! Cattle! I’ll destroy everything you even remotely love! I’ll make your descendants…”

A bang echoed from the hill. The silver tipped bullet struck true into vampire’s skull, just above the ear. The exit wound burst with a spray of cold blood and thick pink flesh.

The wound closed as soon the bullet escaped. Drying rot spread from the wound to the scalp. Hair disintegrated. Eyes rolled back revealing bloodshot sclerae. But Kurl wasn’t sure it was enough.

“You think I can be sniped like some human officer!” the vampire lord struggled to twist the ivory blade, “Why won’t you die! Just die already. Learn to be a filthy animal and die!”

The outburst confirmed Kurl’s suspicions. The bullet flew beyond Adam’s range. The silver tip slipped off the edge of the marble.

Roxanne struck the both with her axe to stop their flight.

Kurl wrapped the silver shard in zinnian to return it in front of his knuckles. He punched it against the vampire’s forehead. Rot spread from where the silver embedded in the skull. It moved like a cracking dry mold that ate flesh and left hot dry ash.

The vampire’s head caved in, releasing a fine mist of thin ash. The jaw went limp; his hand released the blade. The body collapsed, no longer able to hold itself airborne. By the time it landed the corruption fizzled through the rest of the corpse. Strands of ash leaked from bone armor.

A spurt of clotted blood erupted from Kurl’s throat. Tired eyes smiled as he relaxed his mana and floated down a cloud of zinnian. Once back on his hands and knees, he left the tanks fall off his shoulders with an empty clatter and collapsed. The handle of the ivory blade was completely smeared with a drying, clotting red.

Lips curled into a satisfied smirk, “Seems like our angel is the real deal.”

“Kurl!” Frederika cradled him with tears in her eyes.

The maid steadied a needle and thread over his neck as her hands pressed rags against resumed bleeding. The last thing Kurl saw was Roxanne and Adam standing behind her, worried.

“Shit. I need a nap. I’m sorry,” Kurl passed out.