Four days of sparring with Mord – enough to seriously piss him off. It was working. The air in the training yard hung thick with the scent of sweat and exertion, each thud of fist against flesh echoing sharply in the confined space. Mord's ragged breathing punctuated the silence between blows, a testament to the intensity of our clashes.
The next day.
"Mord, are you sure about this? Couldn't you just, you know, reject him?" Sasha asked, her voice laced with
"You know how sneaky that guy is. Rejecting him would make him suspicious. And today's the day we summon the beast. Best to just off him and say he died in action. Can't have him messing things up," Mord growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the wooden floorboards. The air grew heavy with the unspoken weight of their plan, a palpable tension that pressed down on them.
"Right… Be careful. I'll be at the plaza when you're done," Sasha said, her voice tight with anxiety, the words barely a whisper against the growing unease in the room. The flickering candlelight cast long, dancing shadows on the walls, amplifying the sense of foreboding.
They split. Mord met me by a bustling shop, the cacophony of the marketplace a jarring contrast to the grim task ahead. The air throbbed with the energy of a thousand conversations – the sharp cries of vendors hawking their wares, the murmur of shoppers, the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer.
"Mord, I found this amazing training spot! Two blocks away, perfect conditions!" I announced, my voice barely audible above the din, the thrill of the plan pulsing through me like a shot of adrenaline.
"Oh yeah? Where?" he asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, the scent of roasting meat momentarily masking the ever-present undercurrent of danger.
"Follow me!"
We reached the city sewer entrance – a gaping maw in the city's underbelly, the stench of decay and rot instantly assaulting our nostrils. The air hung thick and heavy, a miasma of stagnant water and human waste, a tangible representation of the darkness that lay ahead. The rough-hewn stone beneath my feet was cold and damp, its gritty texture a stark reminder of the grim task ahead.
"Aizo. What the hell are you doing? This is not a sparring ground," Mord said, his voice tight with anger, his breath hitching in his chest. The flickering gaslight cast grotesque shadows on the sewer walls, turning the familiar into something monstrous and unsettling.
"Just hear me out, okay?" I said, feigning nonchalance, though the thrill coursing through my veins belied my calm exterior. "It's like a dungeon – dark, stinks to high heaven, no monsters. Perfect for getting used to dungeon raids. Plus, it's our last spar, right? Bear with me."
"Fine… Good idea, actually," Mord muttered, a grudging respect lacing his tone, while inwardly thinking, Perfect place to bury you. A cruel smile played on his lips, barely visible in the dim light.
The sewer hit us with a wave of stench – shit, rats, the whole shebang. This was Mord's final resting place. A few more steps, and we were below the plaza, right where they were planning on summoning that monster. The air grew colder, damper, the silence broken only by the drip, drip, drip of water echoing through the confined space. I turned; Mord was lagging, his footsteps heavy and hesitant.
"Ready?" I asked, a predatory grin spreading across my face, the anticipation a tangible thing in the air.
"Yeah," he started, his voice barely a breath, Ready to kill you? Hell yeah— The words were cut short by the sudden eruption of magic.
Sparks shot from my fingers. I touched the wall; electricity snaked through the darkness, heading straight for Mord, the air crackling with the raw power of the spell, the smell of ozone sharp and acrid. His eyes widened – a look of primal fear gripping him.
Too late.
Three days earlier, I'd set this up. A massive, pre-charged magic circle under his feet. A C-grade mage shouldn't be able to pull this off, but I'd poured three days' worth of mana into it, the exhaustion a dull ache in my bones.
The circle glowed blue, a blinding light that momentarily stole my breath. I shielded myself; the sewer exploded, a deafening roar that shook the very foundations of the city. The ground trembled violently, the air filled with the choking dust and debris of the collapsing plaza. The stench of pulverized stone and shattered masonry filled the air, mingling with the already foul odor of the sewers.
Chaos reigned. Screaming kids, panicked adults, total pandemonium. The air was thick with the sounds of terror – the shrieks of the injured, the cries of the lost, the desperate pleas for help. Sasha, prepping the summoning, stared in disbelief, her face ashen against the backdrop of the devastation. The plaza was wrecked – fountain smashed, trees uprooted, the air thick with the smell of dust and blood. She looked and looked until she found Mord – legs crushed, bleeding, a sickening crimson stain spreading across the rubble.
"No! No! No! No! Mord!" Sasha screamed, her eyes flooding with tears, her voice raw with grief.
Blood pooled under Mord. He looked up at Sasha's tears, confusion dawning. He was dying, the cold reality settling over him like a shroud. The taste of blood filled his mouth, the rasp of his breathing echoing in his ears.
"Sasha… give me… all your demonic energy," he croaked, his voice a strained whisper, the words barely audible above the cacophony of the disaster.
"No! No! We can't!" Sasha cried, horrified, her voice rising to a desperate wail.
Mord roared, "It's the only way! You can get away, get revenge later. This is for the Lord! I'll complete the mission and die for him!" His voice, though strained, held a fierce determination.
"No!" Sasha sobbed, her body wracked with grief and despair.
"Please!"
She finally agreed. Crimson energy surged into Mord, the air shimmering with the raw power of the demonic energy. His skin blistered, muscles rippling beneath his torn armor. Claws erupted from his hands, his face contorting into a grotesque parody of his former self. He transformed – a horned monster, a devilish face on a colossal, blackened body. A horrifying aura emanated from him, the very air seeming to crackle with malevolent energy. He looked at Sasha, a single tear rolling down his monstrous cheek, a stark contrast to the brutal transformation. Sasha fled, sobbing, her figure a small, fleeting silhouette against the backdrop of the devastation.
The beast let out a roar – a lion's rage twisted into something demonic, a sound that vibrated through the very ground beneath my feet. The air itself seemed to crackle with the raw power of its fury. Silence followed, broken only by the people's cries – a chilling testament to the destruction wrought.
Then, it rampaged. Guards charged, useless against its might. I showed up. It saw me, fury blazing in its crimson eyes, the intensity of its gaze a palpable thing. We stared each other down for a heartbeat before it charged, the ground trembling beneath its massive feet. I leaped, but it was faster. It slammed me to the ground, the impact jarring my bones and stealing my breath.
Damn, it's way stronger than I thought. And even more monstrous than what I'd originally written. I got up, pulling out my pre-charged papers – each imbued with different elemental magic, the rough texture of the paper a stark contrast to the smooth, cold surface of the magic circles.
I circled it, dodging its attacks, the wind whistling past my ears as I moved, tossing papers infused with air magic, sticking them to its stomach. Explosions rocked the plaza, the force of the blasts throwing me backward, the heat intense against my skin. I grinned. This is awesome!
Wind blades sliced its arms, the sharp whizz of the magic cutting through the air, the smell of ozone sharp in my nostrils. It screeched, lunging again. I dodged, slapping more papers onto its back, the heat from the fire magic intense against my skin. But a swift backhand sent me crashing into a house, the impact sending splinters of wood flying, the screams of a terrified family echoing in my ears.
Coughing, I charged again, unleashing a chaotic barrage of magic, the raw power of the spells coursing through my veins. My mana was dwindling, the papers useless without more power. It stomped toward me, its massive feet crushing the ground, the earth trembling beneath its weight. I tried to escape, but it grabbed my neck, its grip like iron, the pressure crushing my windpipe.
"What… have you done?" it cried, tears streaming down its monstrous face, the words a guttural rasp. Its grip tightened, the pressure crushing my windpipe. "Everything… was perfect… until you!"
Darkness threatened to consume me. No regrets. I lived fully, even if briefly.
Then, a figure appeared—a bearded blonde man in white robes, a monocle glinting, a symbol on his chest. Lisa was there too who had just arrived, her eyes wide with shock and a dawning sense of relief.
"Kraelion…" Sasha whispered, recognizing him. This was someone from the Kraelion Empire, a powerful force. The name hung in the air, heavy with unspoken power.
The man approached the beast. They locked gazes. Then, the man slammed his hands onto the ground. A gust of wind erupted, blue light coalescing into a monstrous lycanthrope—a summoned spirit, muscles bulging, jaws agape. It was huge, easily matching the beast in size, its eyes burning with an unearthly light. The air crackled with raw magical energy.
The lycanthrope lunged, claws ripping into the demonic beast's flesh. The beast roared, retaliating with a devastating blow that sent the lycanthrope sprawling. But the spirit was relentless. It dodged a sweeping claw, its own claws tearing at the monster's hide, leaving deep gashes. The fight was a maelstrom of claws and teeth, a brutal dance of destruction. The lycanthrope moved with impossible speed, dodging the beast's clumsy attacks and delivering precise, devastating blows. The ground trembled under the force of their clash. The air crackled with magic, the scent of ozone sharp and acrid.
Finally, with a mighty roar, the lycanthrope delivered a final, devastating blow, its claws piercing the beast's heart. The demonic creature collapsed, its body shuddering before falling still, the silence that followed heavy and profound. The lycanthrope faded, its mission complete.
I awoke to the sight of this man. Lisa stood beside him, her face pale but relieved. I grinned. Things are about to get even more exciting.