Demon Lord VI - Son of Chaos (15 page)

Sarrin clasped
her hands. “Win, Bane. Please win. Destroy him.”

Drevarin cast
her a sharp glance. “Desist, he needs no distractions.”

“
Forgive me, Lord.” She looked stricken. “I have longed for
someone to avenge Armorgan’s death, and never thought it would
happen.”

“
If he does,” Artan said, “I will worship him.”

“
He will,” Drevarin avowed.

Torvaran
lunged at Bane, and a black shield shot with red sparkles sprang up
in his path, sending him staggering back. Bane leapt over the
shield as it dispersed in a fall of shadows, black fire lifting him
high. He dropped towards Torvaran and plunged the shining length of
his sword into the dra’voren’s chest, then his hands flashed out to
grip Torvaran’s arms again. Dark power exploded downwards from
Bane, vanished into the rocks and formed a glowing crater where it
struck. Torvaran shrank, but spikes sprouted from his belly once
more, forcing Bane to release him and leap back. The Demon Lord’s
shirt gleamed with blood, and the seven runes on his chest burnt
bright yellow before they faded as his Gather died.

“
He is more powerful than I thought,” Drevarin
murmured.

Nikira yelped
as five earth demons shot up behind Bane, their huge fists raised.
The Demon Lord threw himself aside, rolled to his feet and
destroyed the fiends with a lash of black fire that burnt a glowing
trench in the rocks. Torvaran charged Bane, swinging his axe, and
the Demon Lord jerked up his chin, using the power of his mind to
throw Torvaran backwards several yards, but he landed on his
feet.

Dark clouds
gathered, shot with flashes of lightning that struck the ground all
around the combatants. Thunder made the ship shiver as the
vibrations ran through it.

Torvaran
closed with Bane again, wielding the heavy battle axe with
impossible speed to counter Bane’s sword. The weapons glittered in
a blur, sparks cascading when they met. Bane sliced through one of
Torvaran’s arms, but his droge body regenerated in a few moments.
Nikira admired Bane’s skill with the sword, which he swung in
flashing arcs, the blade bouncing off the battle axe’s steel handle
with torrents of sparks. The battle surged to and fro, demons
arising to threaten Bane or Torvaran, but were either annihilated,
or other demons countered them. The vidscreen’s close-up view
revealed the sheen of perspiration on Bane’s brow, and he gasped
through an open mouth.

The physical
exertion must be vast, Nikira mused. He moved faster than her eyes
could follow, and rarely stood still for even a moment. He aided
his movements with the dark power, half floating, half running. His
prodigious leaps carried him high into the air, bringing him closer
to his foe, or away, as the situation required. At times,
Torvaran’s weapon skimmed Bane’s clothes, making the tense men and
women who watched him gasp or groan in anguish. Nikira held her
breath whenever he came to grips with the dra’voren, letting it out
in sighs of relief that were echoed around the room when he evaded
the threat.

The two gods’
weapons sliced deep into the rocks whenever they missed their
target, testament to their immense strength. Any one of Torvaran’s
blows would have killed Bane. Torvaran’s strength did not surprise
Nikira, but when Bane took hold of him he was clearly a match for
the dra’voren, which amazed her. Since his initial wounding, he had
acquired no new ones, having learnt of Torvaran’s skill in forming
droge blades. Many times he sliced or pierced the dra’voren’s body,
but it seemed to have little effect.

Nikira glanced
at the chronometer, surprised by how much time had passed. “How
long can this go on for?”

Drevarin shook
his head. “Not too long. Bane will tire, while Torvaran will
not.”

***

Bane skipped
aside as Torvaran’s battle axe swept past, a taunting sneer
twisting his lips. The dra’voren gestured, and a fountain of molten
metal erupted from the ground beside him, solidifying as it formed
into moulded plates and drew to him, sheathing him. Bane wondered
at the reason for it, since a droge form was so easy to
regenerate.

Strengthening
it with armour could not be a defensive strategy, so it had to be
an aggressive one. Long, metal-sheathed tendrils sprouted from the
dra’voren’s sides as he leapt at Bane, solving the mystery. The
armoured hawsers whipped towards the Demon Lord, who sent his power
downwards and rose on a column of black fire. The dra’voren
followed, the tendrils snaking out in search of their prey.

Bane twisted
sideways as one brushed his flank and slashed with his sword, which
clanged off the armoured tentacle with a flash of sparks. He shot
upwards, but Torvaran matched him. Bane became invisible and flung
himself sideways. His foe also vanished, negating the advantage
Bane had gained, as always happened when the tactic was
employed.

Bane dropped,
but a tendril struck him in the side and sent him tumbling. His
sword scythed through empty air, then he hit the ground with a
grunt. He leapt up, searching for the faint frisson of power that
would give him Torvaran’s location. A thud nearby made him swing
around. A tendril hit him on the side of the head and sent him
rolling across the burning rocks.

***

Nikira leapt
up and hurried over to Montar’s scanner screen, where two black
figures fought in a swirling vortex of dark power. The others
gathered around to peer over her shoulder, Sarrin’s group looking
puzzled but amazed. Torvaran’s form was at the centre of a web of
grey filaments as he Gathered power, whilst Bane’s outline was
sharp-edged black.

***

The armoured
tendril brushed over Bane as he struggled to rise to his feet,
shaking his head to clear it of dancing lights. The tendril whipped
around his waist, lifted him and spun him around as it carried him
towards Torvaran. Bane unleashed a swathe of fire that melted the
armour, but fountains of iron rose from the ground to renew it
before he could slice through the tendril with the new sword he
summoned. Torvaran Gathered from the power Bane released, and he
shed the cloak of invisibility. The dra’voren became visible a
moment later, his face stretched in a triumphant sneer. Bane
crashed into his armoured chest, the droge rope tightening around
him.

Realising what
Torvaran intended, Bane jerked up his head, using mental force to
send the dra’voren staggering back, the tendril uncoiling. Bane
gasped, his chest held in a metal vice, and lashed out again with
the dark power, melting part of the hawser’s armour, but again
Torvaran renewed it before he could cut through the droge flesh
within it.

Once more
Torvaran yanked him closer, and spikes sprouted from the
dra’voren’s chest in anticipation of their collision. Panic blanked
Bane’s mind, and instinct took over. A black shield shot up between
them in the instant before he struck. The blades bent as they hit
the shield, and Torvaran snarled with rage. The tendril dug into
Bane’s chest.

More bright
lights danced in Bane’s eyes, this time from lack of air, and he
struggled against the droge rope. Torvaran’s tactic was an
excellent one, for Bane had no skills at armouring himself in the
same fashion. His sword bounced off the armour with a spray of
sparks. Torvaran stepped around the shield and yanked Bane closer
again, but once more he caused a black shield to spring up between
them. Torvaran growled with fury.

Bane wondered
why the dra’voren had not formed spikes on the tendril that held
him, which he could not have avoided. Was he unable to, or had he
just not considered that possibility yet? The Demon Lord struggled
in the tendril’s merciless, crushing grip, his eyes filling with a
red haze. Pain lanced from his ribs, and one broke with a dull
crack, sending a shaft of agony through him. He flung back his
head, his lips twisted in a snarl of pain, and shouted a harsh
word.

The tendril
passed through him as he invoked the power of rock walking, and his
need for air receded. Black fire poured from him to sustain his
incorporeal state, and he used the power of his mind to send
Torvaran reeling backwards again. Bane drifted free, returned to a
solid state and gasped for air, clasping his ribs. The crushing had
weakened him, but he could not show it, and charged towards
Torvaran. The dra’voren skipped aside, the giant tendrils sinking
back into his flanks. Forming and armouring them had cost him a lot
of power, but he Gathered from the shadows Bane had been forced to
unleash to escape them.

***

Nikira let out
her pent breath as Bane escaped the huge metal ropes, her heart
pounding. For several minutes she had thought that he was doomed,
and she did not know how he had won free. Even Drevarin frowned,
and Ethra whimpered as she clung to Sarrin, who was pale but
composed. Mirra had turned away and buried her face in Mithran’s
chest, but she looked up at the screen again when he whispered to
her.

Bane paused to
glower at his foe with pitch-black eyes, then spread his arms. The
seven runes on his chest glowed bright yellow through his tunic.
Torvaran charged him, but rebounded off the black shield that shot
up in front of him and stumbled back again.

Montar glanced
at the scanner screen and muttered, “Holy shit.”

Nikira
followed his gaze and gasped. Huge conduits of darkness formed all
around Bane, coalescing out of the air to soak into him in foul
rivers. It poured from him into the ground, creating another
glowing crater filled with bubbling lava. Torvaran charged in, but
another shield blocked him.

“
What’s he doing?” Nikira whispered.

Drevarin
replied, “He is cleansing the dark power from the area, thereby
denying Torvaran easily Gathered power. Once it is locked away in
the rocks, it will be far more difficult for Torvaran to draw upon
it. It is a good idea, but Torvaran will counter it.”

“
Is there anything Torvaran can’t counter?”

He smiled.
“Only Bane’s power. He is not a match for the Demon Lord. A
powerful foe, but not powerful enough to defeat Bane.”

Seven earth
demons sprang up behind Torvaran, who swung around and annihilated
them with a burst of power. The dra’voren gestured, and a dozen
metal lances appeared from thin air and flew at Bane. They
ricocheted off the black shield that shot up in their path.

“
He is good with his shields,” Drevarin commented. “Kayos has
taught him well.”

The dark power
Bane Gathered became visible on the main screen, forming a vortex
around him. Torvaran gestured, and a huge mass of glowing lava
engulfed the Demon Lord. His Gather died, and the dark power
dispersed.

“
Oh hell,” Nikira muttered.

Ethra wailed
and clutched Sarrin, burying her face in the old priestess’
shoulder. Mirra stifled a sob, her expression anguished, and
Mithran muttered a curse while the rest looked stunned.

Montar
groaned, “No one could survive that.”

The heap of
lava settled and spread, then Bane rose from it, glowing globules
sliding off his clothes. A stunned cheer went up from Artan and his
men, and the soldier joined in. Mithran patted Mirra’s shoulder and
Grem thumped him on the back, making him cast the warrior a proud
smile.

Bane strode
towards Torvaran, the runes on his chest alight again as he renewed
his Gather. The dra’voren retreated, raising his axe. Bane jerked
up his chin again, and the dark god lurched backwards. The sky had
lightened, and the remaining clouds gathered above them as if lured
by their presence, lightning striking the ground around them. Their
battle had cratered and blasted the area with glowing pools of lava
and smoking trenches.

Ten fire
demons rose from one of the lava pools and charged at Bane, their
glowing eyes cutting molten lines in the stone. He banished them
with a harsh word, but more rose, along with a number of earth
demons. The demons battled in a brawl of gritty behemoths, pounding
each other with huge fists. Fire demons joined the fray, burning
earth demons’ soil to lava, and many sank down in defeat. The two
dark gods ignored the embattled demons for the most part, except
when one broke free of the melee and attacked one of them,
whereupon he would destroy it with a lash of shadow.

“
Commander, they’re getting close to the trap,” Montar
said.

Drevarin
frowned at him. “Do not use it.”

Nikira looked
uncertain. “Is he winning?”

“
Yes.”

Nikira shook
her head at Montar, who moved his hand away from the control panel
that would activate the generators. Bane lunged at Torvaran, a
sword appearing in his fist. He sliced through the dra’voren, whose
form wavered, then reformed as he swung his axe, missing when Bane
ducked. Bane hurled his sword at Torvaran, impaling him through the
chest, then leapt at him and grabbed his arms. Spikes shot from the
dra’voren’s chest and belly, and one sliced under Bane’s armpit.
Mirra gasped and chewed her lip, a hand raised to her mouth, and
Mithran clasped her shoulder.

The Demon Lord
hung on, and the ship’s cameras gave a close-up view of his face as
he bared his teeth in a snarl of pain. The runes flared yellow, and
Torvaran shrank in the instant before he freed himself by twisting
in Bane’s grip, the spikes slicing across his belly. Torvaran
retreated as Bane glanced down at his wounds, clasped them and
frowned at the blood on his hand.

“
He is almost a master, but he still makes mistakes,” Drevarin
murmured.

“
If he fought those other dra’voren like this, it’s no wonder
he has so many scars,” Nikira commented in a stunned
tone.