The Ballad Of A Semi-Benevolent Dragon - Chapter 51: The Vampire Fights

Chapter 51: The Vampire Fights

“Kill it?” Faustina blurted incredulously. “You think we can kill it? Because unless I’ve got the numbers wrong, that thing killed seven ancients in a matter of minutes. Counting Claudius, there are twelve of us. I don’t know about you, but those don’t sound like good odds to me.”

Marcus looked around the table. He could hear and see sounds and expressions of agreements. His fists clenched. It would have been easy to call Faustina a coward, but she at least had the excuse of being awful at fighting. She was a brilliant alchemist and researcher, but battle had never been her forte. Yet even the ancients who supposedly specialised in combat were agreeing with her.

Cowardice.

It was one of the fundamental sins of vampire kind, right there were treachery and greed.

Over and over again throughout their history, cowardice had cost them. It had cost them one homeland, but he refused to let it cost them another.

“So you want to run?” Marcus asked.

“We could,” Aurora said. “It would be the smart thing to do.” As a mage, she was used to calculating the odds of victory, used to standing back and making calm, rational assessments about whether or not fighting would be worth it. “Faustina is right. That thing tore through seven ancient in a matter of minutes. We’ll last longer because we’ve got double the numbers, but it’s hard to see us winning.”

“Why not call that dragon friend of yours?” Janus suggested. “He could kill this thing for us.”

There were nods all around the table, and Marcus felt his blood boil. Perhaps he’d spent too much time around dragons and humans.

“Cowards,” he growled. “All of you are cowards.”

“It is not cowardice to flee a fight you cannot win,” Claudius replied. “Nor is it cowardice to seek help against a stronger opponent.”

Marcus shook his head. “You don’t see it, do you?” His gaze swept around the table. “Not all of you are old enough to remember, but I was there when we still had a homeland. I was there when my father wiped out the other members of the Council of Five, and I was there when he turned on his own followers and wiped them out too. Do you know what all the survivors did afterward?”

Silence.

“They hid. They ran, and they hid. Oh, a few of them spoke of vengeance, but none of them really meant it. None of them had the courage to actually plan against him. I tried. I really did. I approached every vampire I could find who might be willing, but none of them had the courage to join me. Even when my father lost himself completely and became the Fourth Catastrophe, still no one else was willing to fight against him. Even as his folly consumed our homeland, everyone else just ran and hid. That’s why I sought out the dragons. It may have taken them a while to realise what a threat my father was, but when they understood, they didn’t run. They didn’t hide. They fought!”

“They might have won,” Brutus said. “But it cost them. Dragons died facing your father. What chance would we have had?” Brutus was older than Marcus, and one of the few remaining ancients who could trace their descent to another member of the Council of Five. Marcus’s father had been incredibly thorough in annihilating their followers. “Fighting would have gained us nothing.”

“Not fighting cost us everything!” Marcus replied. “Think of what we could have achieved if the survivors had faced my father together. At the very least, we would have been able to slow him down or get earlier warning to the dragons. Instead, by the time the dragons finally fought him, his power had grown vast and terrible. Our homeland had to be destroyed to stop him!”

“Your ‘friend’ did that,” Brutus hissed.

“It was either our homeland or the world,” Marcus said. “And I was one of the people who suggested he do it. But it never would have gotten that far if so many of us hadn’t been cowards.” He sagged back in his chair. “I’m tired. Aren’t you? I’ve been wandering for so long, looking for a home I’ll never find. But now after all these Ages, we have a second chance, a new home. Do you know how rare it is to get a second chance? Do you know how absurdly lucky we are to have an umbral veil within reach? If we run now, where will we go?”

Brutus leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his broad chest.

“You’re old enough to remember the five great courts,” Marcus said as he wove an illusion around the room. It was drawn from his memories, and it showed the decadence, opulence, and glory of the five great courts of the vampire homeland. “But look at us now. We’re the greatest of our kind, and this is what passes for court amongst us.” He pinned each of them with his gaze. “The Council of Five was horribly flawed, and they were evil, but they had many reasons to be proud and so did we. We were glorious then, a nation, not merely in words but in truth and deed. Now all we can muster are pale imitations of the past and half-remembered stories. I remember when we didn’t have to worry about our fledglings burning in the sun. I remember when elder vampires could walk the streets during the day. This place, here and now, is our chance to have that again. And you would have us run?”

They looked away, and Marcus’s fists clenched again. He could still remember the look of solemn understanding on Elerion’s face before they’d gone to face Kagami. He’d known he would die fighting her. He’d known, but he’d still gone. Why? Because it had been necessary, because he would never have been able to live with himself if he’d chosen to hide while others fought and died in his name for his nation. If only vampires could have that same courage.

“I will not run,” Marcus said. “I’ve run long enough. No more. If the north is to be my home and my kingdom, then I cannot run. I must defend it with my life if need be.” He paused, and his gaze hardened. “Nor will I call upon a dragon to help me. Why should I? What kind of king would I be if I had to call upon my friend for aid whenever something happened? Who could possibly respect such a king? No. A vampire brought about this folly, and so it falls to vampires to deal with it.” His gaze softened. “What’s the point of living as long as we do if we spend our whole lives running away whenever things get hard? If we can’t stand our ground when our new homeland is at stake, then when can we? Running running is easy. And it get easier every time you run until eventually all you can do is run and run and run. Fighting fighting is hard, and it’s scary. I don’t care how old you are. That’s always going to be true. But there are times when you run and times when you fight. I’m telling you, here and now, that this is a time to fight.”

Faustina swallowed thickly. “Do do you really think we can win?”

Marcus bared his teeth. “I’ve been called a fool before, but no one has ever called me suicidal. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I think we can win and without any of us dying either.”

“What makes you say that?” Brutus rumbled. The other vampire was even taller than Marcus and built like a bear. Hopefully, Marcus’s words had managed to stir his warrior’s blood.

“First and foremost, we know what we’re up against.” Marcus nodded at Claudius. “Claudius and his fellows didn’t and it cost them. One of them died without even knowing what was happening. Another two died as they tried to retreat and gain distance, and another two died after they hesitated. The remaining two were overwhelmed, but the fact that Claudius is here means they at least did better than the others. In a fight, information and initiative are key. Claudius and his fellows had neither, but we will have both.”

“So you say,” Aurora murmured. “But words are wind. What do you intend?”

Marcus’s eyes gleamed. “An all-out assault. We have powerful mages and one of the best alchemists in the world. We also have several highly skilled warriors. This thing is operating mostly on instinct. It’s not going to be using advanced tactics and strategies. It’s going to see us, and then it’s going to try its best to rip us to pieces. So we hit it hard. Right from the start. The strongest magic we can muster. And then we hold it off as best we can while hitting it with more of that magic and whatever atrocities Faustina can prepare.”

“Your plan is worryingly simplistic,” Claudius murmured. “But perhaps simple is best.” His brows furrowed, and he stared at the arm he’d regrown. “The others they were good people. They died, so I could live. And yet yet I find myself wishing I could avenge them. We’d known each other for centuries. I counted several of them as friends. To leave that thing unchallenged it does rankle.”

Brutus chuckled. “I have been searching for a worthy opponent. I can’t think of too many more worthy than the thing we’ll be fighting.”

Janus made a face. “I might also have been holding out on you”

“Oh?” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “And what do you mean by that?”

“You know how my teleportation takes a while to use?” Janus said. “Well there is a way to make it go faster. It’ll only work once per day on each person, but I’ll be able to snatch you out of battle and pull you to my location.”

Marcus’s eyes widened. “That would basically give everybody a second chance in a fight.”

Janus nodded. “Yes. I was keeping it a secret since, you know, we all have secrets, but if we’re going to be fighting this thing, then I can’t really keep it a secret anymore, now can I?”

Marcus grinned. “That’s the spirit.” He banged his fist on the table. “We can win. If we fight this thing together, we can win and we can all go home in one piece. But we can’t hold back. We need to use everything we have.” He took a deep breath. “You have an hour to prepare. If you have any treasures you haven’t used yet, any abilities you’re concealing, or any magic that you’re saving for a rainy day, now is the time.”

Marcus went straight to his chambers to prepare. He might not be able to lug around as much stuff as Doomwing, but he had access to storage spells and various forms of storage equipment. And although he had tried to use as little extra equipment as possible to make a better impression on his followers nobody thought highly of someone who relied solely on excellent equipment to fight now was not the time to hold back.

The very first thing he called out of storage was an ornate set of black plate armour. Its pristine appearance was a testament to its quality since it had spent centuries underwater. It had belonged to an enemy of his father, and his father had decided that killing his opponent was too easy. Instead, he had trapped him in the armour, disabled its abilities, and then paralysed him with magic before flinging him into the sea.

His father’s enemy had sunk all the way to the bottom of the ocean. There, trapped by magic and the crushing weight of the ocean, he had slowly starved to death. He’d been an ancient, so starvation would have taken centuries centuries alone in the cold dark of the ocean floor. Marcus had eventually found him with the help of some generously paid merfolk.

The other vampire had already been dead, but the armour had been completely intact. Marcus had disposed of the body in accordance with vampire traditions and had claimed the armour for himself after dispelling the magic his father had used to disable its abilities. Unfortunately, he hadn’t counted on just how deep the bond between the armour and its original master had been.

To put it simply, the armour was haunted. It wasn’t the actual ghost of its previous bearer. Instead, it was an echo, a sort of spiritual resonance that plagued whoever donned the armour, subjecting them to the madness and ravings of its previous owner. And there had been plenty of madness and ravings over the long centuries of slow starvation.

But even so, the armour was worth it. It was umbral armour armour that allowed the wearer to use potent shadow magic. There were very, very few people who could build armour like this left, and there were very, very few people who had the materials required. Marcus certainly didn’t. Despite being haunted, the armour also retained its ability to adjust to new wearers, so Marcus didn’t even have to worry about getting it adjusted not that any dwarf would go within a hundred yards of the thing.

As he began to put the armour on, Faustina bustled into the room. She hadn’t bothered to knock, and he could feel her anger without even turning.

“A pretty speech isn’t going to save us from that thing,” Faustina said. “You might have won over the others, but I know you. You’ve always been good at giving inspiring speeches. It’s one of your few redeeming features.”

“If you’re here to scold me, help me put this on.” Marcus handed her pieces of the armour.

“Wait is this haunted?” Faustina cast a spell. “It is haunted! You’re going to wear haunted armour into battle! Are you insane?”

“It’s umbral armour, and it’s only a little bit haunted.” Marcus donned the helmet. Already, he could hear the voice of the armour’s former owner cursing him as the son of his murderer. However, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. “Faustina, I meant what I said. If we hit it hard and fast with everything we’ve got, I think we can beat it. This thing will only grow stronger the longer we leave. This is the weakest it will ever be, so we need to strike now.” He turned. “I’ll be counting on you. All of the weapons, concoctions, and bits and pieces you’ve got for fighting ancient vampires, bring them. All of them.”

“Damn it.” Faustina huffed. “You’re not really giving me much of a choice here.”

Marcus sighed. “We don’t have much of a choice, not really. But if things go poorly, I will give the order to retreat, and I will be the one to cover the retreat. That’s the least I can do.” He put one hand on her cheek. “I’m not going to put you on the front lines. We both know you’re terrible at fighting. But your support will be essential. I can’t do this alone.”

Faustina’s lips curled and she shoved his hand away. “If I die, I am going to haunt you forever. I hope you know that.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Marcus reached for a dozen daggers made of obsidian. “Now, grab whatever you need, and don’t forget to bring plenty of blood. I’m sure we’ll be needing it.”

Marcus led the others through the whirling snow. They moved as swiftly as only ancients could, their presence obscured by magic as they made their way toward Aloysius’s camp. They stopped on a hill overlooking the camp, and Marcus motioned for Quintus to get to work.

The bespectacled vampire nodded and cast a subtle but powerful scrying spell over the area. Aloysius might have been able to detect it if he’d been in his right mind, but the monster he’d become was unlikely to notice anything short of a direct attack.

“It’s big,” Quintus said. “You can’t see it through all the snow, but it has to be at least thirty feet tall, maybe a little more.”

Marcus nodded grimly. “Everyone in the camp has probably been turned into an infected husk under its control or has been converted into more flesh for its body.”

The others looked a bit queasy at that.

“How many infected?” Marcus asked. The snows here were thick and laden with magic. Even for a vampire, seeing through them wasn’t easy without using magic.

“At least a hundred.” Quintus paused. “Do we have to worry about them wandering off?”

“If we kill that thing, they should die too. They’re not proper vampires. A blizzard like this will probably kill them off too, which is why we haven’t seen any wandering around. That thing will likely wait until the blizzard stops before sending them out.” Marcus chuckled mirthlessly. “And before you ask, it’s not really intelligent. That’s the kind of thing it probably learned through trial and error.”

“So what now?” Aurora asked. She had the most powerful attack magic of any of them.

“Now, we split up.” Marcus motioned to Brutus, Felix, and Julian. “The four of us are the best at close combat. Once we begin our attack, we’ll move in and keep it occupied. Our objective isn’t necessarily to kill it it’s to keep it from going after our mages and ranged support who will be doing most of the damage. I shouldn’t have to say this, but stay sharp. That thing is big, strong, and fast. Evade attacks whenever possible. Do not get into a contest of strength because you are going to lose.”

Marcus nodded at the others. “Aurora and Vespera, I want you two on that hill over there. When I give the signal, hit it with the biggest spell you have. At the very least, that should injure it and wipe out the infected around it. After that, attack as opportunity permits, but warn us first. I don’t want us getting caught up in your attacks. Janus, since you’re the one who can teleport people out of battle, I want you to stay here with Quintus. He’ll be running communication and scrying magic for everybody, and he’ll make sure you can see the whole battlefield. Claudius and Faustina, I want you to trail me and the others into battle. Focus on disabling and binding it. Do not engage it directly. Allow us to fight it. Cecilia, I want you on that hill over there, and I want you, Cornelius, over there.”

“Is it wise to split up?” Cecilia asked. She tightened her hold on her bow. “It might be able to single us out.”

“If you’re all together, it can try to attack all of you at the same time. If you split up, it’ll have to divide its attention. If we’re lucky, that might even confuse it,” Marcus said. “Same thing as Aurora and Vespera. When you see an opportunity, take it. If you think we might get caught up in your attacks, say something. Everybody understand?”

There were nods all around.

“Good. Then get into position.”

Aurora took a deep breath of the frigid winter air. This was insane. This whole thing was insane. It would have been better to run and hide, but damn Marcus and his talent for inspiring speeches. Once the others had all agreed, there was no backing out, especially since if they won but she and her sister didn’t participate, they were bound to get demoted.

“Are you ready?” Vespera asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Aurora sighed. It was easy for people to mistake her for Vespera. They were twins, after all. But Vespera had always been the braver of the two of them, or perhaps the more foolish.

“When you’re ready,” Marcus said, his voice carrying to them clearly despite the blizzard and the distance, thanks to Quintus’s communication magic. “Hit it with everything you have. It’s resting at the centre of the camp.”

“It won’t matter too much where it is,” Aurora replied. “Because there won’t be a camp once I’m done.”

For as long as she could remember, Aurora had been fascinated by attack magic. Whether it was throwing fire, hurling lightning, or unleashing tearing winds if a spell or rune could be used to destroy things, then she wanted to learn it.

“Vespera,” she murmured. “Together.”

“Together.”

Aurora began to weave multiple twelfth-order spells together. Spells for fire and wind and pressure, along with spells for force, shattering, and cleaving. Her burgundy eyes began to glow as she called on more and more of her power. Beside her, Vespera was deploying rune after rune of enhancement.

It was funny. They were twins, but their abilities were so radically different. Aurora specialised in attack magic whereas Vespera could hardly use any attack magic at all. What she could do, however, was enhance the abilities and magic of others.

“Careful,” Quintus advised through his communication magic. “It’s stirring. I think it senses your magic.”

“It’s fine.” Aurora growled. “I’m just about finished anyway.”

Her jaw clenched, and her eyes bled from burgundy to deep crimson as the last of her spells snapped into place alongside Vespera’s runes. There was a brief pause and then a deep, echoing boom that sent snow tumbling down the hills around them. A bolt of blindingly bright magic crackled from her hands and slammed into the centre of the camp.

And then there was light and fire and utter devastation.

The force of the explosion threw her and Vespera off their feet, and the blizzard around them was blasted aside. A towering pillar of raw heat and radiance rippled upward as the devastation on the ground spilled outward, obliterating the camp and sending huge clouds of steam billowing outward. The hillside beneath them trembled and threatened to give way as the shockwave of fire and force first incinerated everything in its path and then turned the ground into molten slag.

It was enough power to obliterate a large town or a small city concentrated into an area far smaller than either.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Aurora wanted to believe that was enough to win the battle, but she only had to hear the enraged, inhuman screeching that filled the air to know it wasn’t enough.

“Damn it.” Aurora reached for a potion to replenish her magic. She’d dumped a significant chunk of her power into that attack. “How soon until you can go again?”

Vespera was busy gulping down a potion of her own. Faustina might be a maniac, but she knew how to make good potions. “Give me a second”

“Let’s go!” Marcus barked as the flames subsided. Aurora hadn’t held back. That attack would have killed just about any ancient outright, but their opponent was far from dead. In fact, based on the sounds it was making, and the way its massive body was thrashing about, all they’d done was piss it off.

“Damn,” Brutus grunted as he ran alongside Marcus. “You’d think that would do more damage.”

Snow was rushing back in, turning into rain as it ran headlong into the residual heat left behind by the spell. Ahead of them, the abomination was still thrashing about. Huge chunks of its flesh had been left blackened and charred, and they tumbled off its body, only to be replaced as quickly as they fell away.

It was truly monstrous now, with nothing even vaguely human about it remaining. Instead, it walked on seven, gigantic, stumpy legs, and its entire body was covered in a variety of tentacles, bony claws, and jagged ridges of chitin. A number of longer appendages extended out from its body, each of them ending in barbed flails.

Marcus’s jaw tightened. This was not going to be an easy fight, and he was glad that he’d left Ivar and his other followers behind. They had wanted to come along, but this fight was beyond them. Not only were they at risk of being infected, but they would likely die within a single minute of fighting this thing.

“Split up!” Marcus shouted. “Attack it from all sides! Keep it distracted!”

As the others broke off to circle around the creature, Marcus charged straight ahead. Overhead, an arrow wreathed in explosive magic and runes of piercing and breaking lanced through the air Cecilia. It thumped into the side of what passed for the creature’s head before detonating in a gory explosion. But the creature did not go down. Instead, it roared, and there was a flash of crimson before spikes of blood speared through the air back toward Cecilia at speed so great they left thunder in their wake.

Marcus could only hope she’d been able to dodge or that Janus had been able to pull her out of harm’s way as he closed in. The creature howled, feet stomping the molten earth, and then it turned, a huge tentacle coming down toward him with all the force of an avalanche.

He leapt to the side before hastily calling upon his armour’s power as the tentacle jerked toward him with impossible speed. He fell into his own shadow and emerged several yards away, the voice of the armour’s previous wearer filling his ears.

“Son of a monster!” the voice roared. “Abomination! Unworthy of life!”

“Oh, shut up,” Marcus grumbled. “I’m busy.”

He leapt, and a rune of cutting formed around his blade as he brought the sword down on one of the creature’s limbs. To his disbelief, the weapon only sank an inch or two in before stopping. How tough was this thing? He yanked his weapon free and retreated hastily as another arrows soared in, striking the monster in the side before exploding.

Good. Cecilia was still alive.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brutus bring his pole axe down in a brutal overhead chop, only for his weapon to meet a similar fate as Marcus’s.

“This thing is tough!” Brutus growled. “I’ve cut several yards of solid stone with strikes like that!”

“It must be enhancing its body with the blood it has consumed,” Marcus shouted. “If we can keep it hitting it, it’ll start running out of blood. Then we’ll be able to Julian, you fool, dodge!”

On the other side of the creature, Julian had raised his shield to catch a blow from one of the scythe-like appendages the monster had. It cost him his shield, his arm, and half of his torso. He went tumbling end over end, and spears of blood thudded into his body as the monster batted Marcus aside and ignored a spear thrust from Felix to focus on the downed vampire.

“Janus!” Marcus shouted. “Get Julian out of here!”

There was a flash of magic, and then Julian was gone. Marcus grit his teeth. Janus had to put blood seals on all of them to use that ability, and he’d only be able to use it once for each them per day. In other words, even if Julian got back into the fight, he wouldn’t have the luxury of a safe retreat next time.

Somehow following the magic, the creature turned and unleashed a volley of bony spines toward the hill where Janus was. There was a crack boom as a bolt of lightning leapt from a neighbouring hill to intercept the attack. The electricity jumped from spine to spine, shattering them, before turning to strike the creature.

That must be Cornelius. Lightning magic was his speciality.

For a split second, the monster faltered, and another arrows truck it in the side before exploding.

“That idiot,” Brutus hissed. “You told us not to meet it in a contest of strength, and what’s the first thing he does? Try to block an attack with his shield!”

The monster lunged forward with surprising speed, and it was only Brutus’s excellent reflexes that kept his head on his shoulders. As it was, his armour went flying off his upper body in pieces. Drops of blood rained down on him, and the ancient vampire screamed as the blood pierced through his skin before exploding inside his body. He tumbled to the ground, wounded, but not dead, and Felix leapt, soaring through the air to land spear first on top of the creature’s back in a display of agility that Marcus wasn’t sure he could have matched.

“Oh, come on,” Marcus gestured with one hand, and shadows formed and yanked Brutus out of the way. He tossed him toward Faustina who was hiding amidst a pile of half-melted stone that the creature had tossed up in one of its earlier attacks. She shoved a healing potion and gourd full of blood into Brutus’s mouth as Claudius reached out with both hands.

A binding spell took shape, and glowing bands of light grabbed hold of the monster’s legs, pinning them in place.

“Aurora,” Marcus shouted. “Now would be a good time.”

“Just get clear,” came the reply.

Marcus didn’t need to be told twice, he and Felix fled, and he stopped just long enough to throw the rapidly healing Brutus over his shoulder before another massive explosion bloomed around the monster. The blast sent them tumbling through the air, and Marcus used his armour’s powers to grab hold of Faustina and Claudius before they could hit the ground.

He skidded to a stop in time to see the abomination’s flesh ripple before a large chunk of it simply burst free and shot toward the hill where Aurora and Vespera were. The entire hillside vanished in a blast of corrosive blood, sharpened bone, and warped flesh. The two ancients would likely have died if Janus hadn’t pulled them out of the way in time, but the abomination was already turning, its body transforming into a bloody mist as Cecilia’s next arrow went right through it and Cornelius’s lightning struck but to seemingly little effect.

“Faustina,” Marcus shouted as he burst into motion. “Now!”

The female vampire tossed a bottle at the cloud of bloody mist. A flick of Marcus’s wrist sent a spell to break it, and black vapour filled the air. There was a hideous, screeching sound, and suddenly the monster was no longer a bloody mist. Instead, it was forced back into its solid state, confused, angry, and still far too close to Janus and the others for Marcus’s liking.

“Get out of there!” Marcus roared. “Go!”

He charged and drove his blade into one of the creature’s legs, pouring magic into the strongest rune of cutting he could make. Finally, his sword began to bite, and the creature stumbled as its leg came apart in a shower of gore but not before it unleashed another hail of bloody spears at the hillside.

“Agh!”

That was Janus.

Another bolt of lightning crackled in, accompanied by yet another arrow, and the monster lurched back. Up on the hill, Marcus caught a glimpse of Aurora raising her hands before fire began to rain from the sky. With no time to build up a stronger spell, the attack was more of a distraction than anything else, but it gave Vespera time to grab Janus and drag him away. His legs were gone, along with one of his arms.

Marcus hissed. The fight was getting out of control. Behind him, Faustina threw another bottle. It shattered against the creature’s side, and the blood floating in the air around it began to quiver. Marcus seized the opportunity and pulled as hard as he could. Blood magic was something he was very, very good at. The blood went flying away, and Claudius gestured again. More bands of light formed, but the monster was ready for them this time. It sent several tentacles thumping down toward Claudius, and he was forced to abandon his spell as he and Faustina scrambled out of range.

“Get up,” Marcus shouted to Brutus. “Come on, you big ox! Get up!”

“Urgh” The other vampire stumbled to his feet. “Damn it. This thing is tough.”

Felix leapt again, twisting and driving his spear into the monster’s head only to have to yank it free and flip end over end through the air to keep from being torn limb from limb by a wave of gnashing teeth and clawing scythes.

“Keep hitting it,” Marcus shouted. “Don’t let up.”

And yet, as the fight went on, Marcus realised that they were losing. They simply couldn’t do enough damage, and with Janus out of the fight, any hit could be their last. Aurora was no longer able to attack freely either. The monster had realised the threat she posed, and it was taking everything Marcus and the others had to keep it from reaching her. Worse, the abomination was pelting both Cecilia and Cornelius with a seemingly endless barrage of bone shards and corrupted flesh. The pair had no choice but to keep on the move, lest they be overrun, and that kept them from using their most potent attacks.

“Marcus” Faustina grabbed his arm. She had hit the creature with bottle after bottle of her concoctions, but even they couldn’t do more than slow it down. “We’re losing.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath. There was one last card he could play. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but “Faustina, you brought that potion, right? The one you’ve been working on for me?”

“The enhancement potion?” She nodded. “Yes, but” Her eyes widened. “You’re actually going to use it.”

“Well, it’s not like we’re going to win if we keep doing this.”

Brutus had lost an arm, but he was fighting gamely on with his remaining arm. Julius, though, had yet to re-enter the battle. He never had been the quickest regenerator or healer. Even Felix, usually so swift and nimble, had begun to slow down, exhaustion beginning to creep up on him as the monster grew more used to his attacks and began to overwhelm him with its extra limbs.

“Fine. But you won’t have long, maybe fifteen seconds.”

“Fifteen seconds? That’ll have to be enough.” Marcus reached for the potion. “Wish me luck.”

He downed the potion in one big gulp, and his whole body was suddenly consumed by a maelstrom of power. His jaw clenched so hard he was afraid his teeth would break, and his muscles tightened until he feared they would burst. It was too much power, too much speed, too much everything.

That was why they hadn’t all just downed some of this potion and why Faustina considered the potion a failure. It enhanced the body to such a degree that it was no longer possible for a person to properly control themselves. All of that strength, that speed, everything none of it mattered since the person would be unable to use it properly.

Unless they were someone with the right kind of mind magic who also happened to have a mastery of blood magic.

In other words, whoever drank it needed a very unique skillset a skillset that Marcus had. Even as his body threatened to lurch out of his control, he layered on spell after spell and rune after rune of perceptual enhancement until he could finally finally take proper control of his body. But even that wasn’t enough. To really get the most out of the enhancement, he had to use his blood magic to essentially puppet his own body because it was now capable of moving in ways that would normally have been impossible even for him.

As his perceptual enhancement and blood magic came into effect, the world seemed to slow down until it was completely still and in perfect focus.

He lifted his hand and clenched his fist. Strength beyond what he’d ever known filled him. Around him, the others were moving in slow motion, and the supernaturally swift motions of the abomination were finally not only readily visible but actually predictable. Marcus took the daggers he’d brought along with him and flung them around. Even with the potion, he’d need them to make this work.

In his hands, his sword began to shake. All of the power he’d stored in it since the Sixth Catastrophe all of that energy was being dumped into it now to make it as sharp and deadly as possible. He could last fifteen seconds before the potion wore off or his body failed under the strain. At the rate he was burning through it, the energy stored in the sword would last roughly that long too.

He took a single breath and then dropped into the shadows at his feet. He reappeared over the monster that had once been Aloysius and brought his sword down with all the strength he could muster. The blade cleaved through the abomination’s flesh, sending a torrent of gore bursting upward. It reached for him with countless twisted limbs, but he was no longer there. Instead, he was beneath the beast, carried there by the shadows as he lashed out again, carving a matching furrow into its underbelly.

It bellowed in pain and fury, and Marcus sank back into the shadows before reappearing and striking once more. Over and over again, he vanished into the shadows, only to re-emerge, unleashing a dozen strikes and then more than a hundred in the span of a few seconds. It was more than he could ever have managed without the potion, and the insults from the armour’s former wearer grew into a warped cacophony as time stretched, each moment turning into an eternity.

But the monster had caught on. Spears of blood stabbed into the shadows as it finally overcame the effects of the concoction Faustina had used on it earlier. And now, Marcus called on the daggers. It was a simple idea, really. Blood magic could be used to push and pull blood toward the user. That was the simplest and easiest way to use blood to attack. But with enough practice, the opposite could be done the user could be pulled or pushed toward blood. And on those daggers was Marcus’s own blood, as solid an anchor as he could ask for.

His blood magic roared to life, yanking him out of the way of attack after attack as he continued his frenzied assault on the horror before him. Again and again, he hit it, but it refused to go down, its massive form bearing down on him with impossible speed, its barrage of bone, blood, and flesh threatening to cut off all his avenues of retreat.

Fine.

If Marcus couldn’t dodge, then he would do the next best thing. He would take whatever blows weren’t fatal and try to dish out more damage in return.

He lost his left arm, the armour not durable enough to withstand a full-blooded strike from the creature at close range. He ignored the pain and brought his sword down on the closest tentacle and it didn’t grow back. His eyes widened. Had they finally reached the limits of its regeneration

The potion wore off.

Time returned to normal, and weakness flooded his limbs.

“Marcus!” He stumbled back, blood flowing from one shoulder. His mind was wrapped in fog, and Faustina’s voice seemed to be coming from far away.

Claudius’s magic rippled to life around the creature, and chains of magic coiled around its body. It struggled, but it was no longer able to break free so easily. An arrow thudded into its side before exploding. Above them, the blizzard parted as colossal bolts of lightning rained down on the suddenly immobile monstrosity.

“Keep hitting it,” Marcus slurred as he tightened his hold on his sword.

Another mountain of flame enveloped the beast, sending him tumbling headlong through puddles of melted snow that soon gave way to stretches of scorched and smouldering earth. He stumbled to his feet and shambled forward. The creature was trying to flee now, trying to escape before the others could resume their attacks. Brutus tried to halt it and was sent flying by a flick of a huge, barbed limb. Felix managed to stab it through the throat, but its gnashing teeth forced him to relinquish his weapon, and then a blow from one of the abomination’s limbs sent him tumbling back, ripped in half.

“Go to them,” Marcus shouted, scarcely aware of what he was saying as he dragged himself forward. Quintus was there, entering the battle at last in a desperate bid to keep their opponent from escaping. His glasses cracked as a blow sent him tumbling away, but he had delayed the monster that had been Aloysius long enough for the group’s three ranged attackers to unleash their next attacks.

The abomination stumbled, landing awkwardly on its side, as its many legs scrabbled at the earth in a bid to keep it moving. Claudius was bleeding from his eyes and mouth as he used another binding spell, hauling the creature back down as Marcus continued to stumble forward. Chunks of the horror’s flesh were sloughing off, and they were no longer regenerating.

Ahead of him, barely visible through the creature’s twisted ribcage was its heart. Marcus staggered forward, sword raised and was promptly impaled in the stomach and chest. He spat blood. He’d managed to dodge just far enough at the last moment to keep his heart intact. His sword shook in his hand as he called up the last dregs of power he had, forming a rune of true death around it and

Suddenly he was standing in a place of mist and silence.

What what was going on?

Was was he dead?

And then from the depths of the mist came his opponent. Its many mouths bayed and roared, but no sound reached him.

His eyes widened. This this must be an astral attack. It must have realised that he was about to kill it and launched a last ditch, instinctive astral attack. Marcus braced himself to meet the monster only for another figure to emerge from the mist. It was him but not him. No. It was the parasite inside him.

It turned to him and smiled before launching itself at the creature. Here, size meant little, and the abomination skidded to a halt.

His parasite glanced over its shoulder at him and spoke. Even if he couldn’t hear the words, Marcus could still read its lips.

Go. Finish this. I’ll see you later.

And then

And then he was back in the snow, impaled by the horror’s claws. He raised his arm, the rune of true death finishing around his sword, and then he drove his weapon forward. It pierced deep into the abomination’s heart, and he twisted it savagely before jerking it from side to side as the rune of true death took effect.

Marcus slid off the monster’s claws as it toppled to the ground with a final, ponderous groan before finally going still.

“Marcus!”

He looked up. Faustina was there.

“Marcus?”

“I’m I’m fine.” He waved in the general direction of their opponent. “Make sure it’s dead.”

“I” Faustina jerked back. “It’s disintegrating.”

Marcus blearily shifted his body until he could see it. She was right. The monster was disintegrating, its flesh turning to ash as its blood boiled away.

“Keep an eye on,” Marcus ordered. “If it moves, blast it.” He groaned as Faustina helped him to sit up before pouring a gourd of blood into his mouth, along with a healing potion. When his wounds still refused to close, she slid her wrist along the edge of his sword before offering it to him. He tried to refuse, but the smell was too strong. He latched onto her wrist and drank, her ancient blood flowing through him in tides of strength and vigour.

“The others?” he gasped as he pulled away. “What about them?”

“Alive,” Claudius said. “Some of them barely, but still, they’re alive.”

“Go to them.” Marcus motioned vaguely. “See to them. I’ll live. See to them.”

As Claudius left, Marcus allowed himself to smile.

“Hah!” He laughed. “We did it.”

Faustina looked at him, and apart from the usual affection mixed with exasperation, there was awe in her gaze.

It was something he would see in the others when he was finally well enough to get up and meet them.

A week later, the remaining factions surrendered to him.

Marcus was officially a king.