Echoes of a Shattered Age (36 page)

Kenyatta felt an inexplicable building of energy inside his body as he sprinted up behind the giant. He reversed his grip on the sword in his left hand, and held it tightly to his side while holding the blade in his right hand in a forward grip.

With a growl, he leapt, positioning his left blade behind him facing downward, and his right blade in front of him facing up.

Kita fell back on his heels at the sight of his friend, impossibly high into the air and tucked into a tight ball. He spun like a wheel fitted with blades, cutting his way up the back of the beast’s leg. He angled diagonally to the right and just as he passed over the hip, he opened and he cut the beast down the leg during his descent. This happened faster than the monster could react, and the deep cuts in the back of its left leg and the front of its right bled freely.

It was an effective strike, but the sheer mass of the demon made it possible to sustain the wound without falling. Kenyatta dove aside to avoid the stomping foot, only to roll into the midst of yet another group of twisted monsters.

* * *

Shinobu danced a deadly dance with the fiend before him. He’d never fought an opponent that could match his every move so effectively. Neither had gained an advantage, but the strider was hard-pressed to keep up with the small dark creature’s movements. He had received several minor injuries from its whipping tail, and every time he attempted to sever it, the demon would flick it away at the last second. He would not be able to accept many more of these stinging injuries, but he couldn’t find an opening in its defense. Blood dripped from his brow into his left eye, and his right leg was beginning to go numb from the four lashes he had received.

* * *

Kita had been attacked by two Quentranzi that descended upon him shortly after Kenyatta’s amazing maneuver on the big one. He was able to handle them well enough with his staff, keeping them at bay from both sides while he worked them into a favorable position. Finally, he defeated one, banishing it back to the dark world, and batted the other aside to buy him enough time to twist the shaft and release the whip-chain.

* * *

After defeating two more Quentranzi using her telekinetic abilities, Mira leaned against the wall of the tower, trying to catch her breath. All about the field, Quentranzi stepped through red and orange portals. All hope left the young woman as she looked in every direction at the mass of the most powerful race of demons ever to walk the earth appearing everywhere. “How many of the damned things did the Drek summon?” she muttered.

No matter how powerful an assault Iel hurled at the massive fiend, it continued its unerring path toward the tower. He fell into concentration, chanting another incantation that would summon another magical creature, but this one he had reserved as a last effort. Carzan magic was extremely powerful but difficult to control. Mira stood frozen in alarm when she realized what her teacher was doing. She knew that if a beast summoned by way of Carza defeated the Quentranzi too easily, it would turn on its summoner.

Her breath caught in her throat when a bolt of light shot out of the tower and went streaking by. “What in the name of the Daunyans?” A figure glowing with yellow light energy glided across the fields, past the battling enemies and defenders, and straight toward the gigantic, and seemingly unstoppable Quentranzi. The light shot past Iel, and the Ilanyan stopped in the middle of his casting.

The four embattled warriors also saw the light, as well as the human figure within.

It stopped at the titan demon’s feet and shot straight into the air. As it glided ever upward, the light melted away to reveal Akemi, her body glowing from the inside with that yellow light. In one graceful movement, she drew Sekimaru from its sheath, and cut a burning path up the demon’s leg, up its waist and abdomen and to its chest. With an ease that should have been impossible, she whipped the sword up and through the demon, and as her body turned in the air, she reversed her grip on her sword, and thrust backward at her side, driving the blade to the hilt in the middle its chest.

Suspended in the air by an invisible force, her back to an enemy so large, she looked like a fly, Akemi closed her eyes and the power that filled her body drained away and flooded through the abysmal monster. Like veins carrying lifeblood, the yellow light energy of the Daunyans snaked through the gigantic demon’s body until started to glow from the inside out.

As the demon was being infused with the deadly heavenly energy, Sekimaru drained it of its dark essence. Helplessly suspended during this struggle, Akemi held on as her anxiety grew. Sekimaru was growing more powerful and more hungry with each of her nervous heartbeats. Then, of its own accord, the sword began siphoning the light energy out of the demon.

The sword glowed with Daunyanic light that shone so bright Akemi thought she would be blinded, and the sword destroyed. As if with a mind of its own, Sekimaru thrust both light and dark energy back into the fiend in one burst. Its mouth agape in a silent cry of agony, the monstrous Quentranzi’s body shuddered as the tiny sword ripped its very existence from its body, only to propel it and the deadly god power back in.

Kenjiro stood mesmerized by the sight of his younger sister and that huge titan, engulfed in that searing light.

Kenyatta still fought several of the smaller human sized Quentranzi, but still managed to take in the sight before him. The fight gradually became easier though, for the surrounding fiends seemed to be weakened by the power that radiated from the sword of the ninja demon huntress.

Kita had dispatched his two enemies and was now hesitantly moving toward the spectacle, unsure of whether or not he might be needed when this ended.

Though he had taken several injuries, Shinobu also had dispatched his remaining adversary, and now stood transfixed, hardly believing what he saw. “My kinda woman,” he thought aloud trotting—and grimacing with every step—to catch up with Kita.

Kenjiro looked around the field. Other Quentranzi, smaller ones, were appearing everywhere. Smaller they might be, but he could feel power radiating from the creatures, and it made the first horde seem insignificant.

***

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Red dimensional holes appeared in the air all over the battlefield, and out of them came the most hideous and powerful fiends that any of the defenders had seen. Every one of the abysmal creatures turned toward the four warriors, and Kenjiro, Kenyatta, Shinobu and Kita put their backs to each other and formed a tight square.

“A challenge is good, but not when the odds are impossible,” Kita remarked.

“Then we die in battle with honor,” the samurai declared.

Kenyatta frowned over his shoulder. “I made no plans to die today, so save the ‘death in battle’ talk for another time.”

Shinobu sniggered.

Kenjiro surprised the islander with a smirk, then raised his sword.

Demons littered the field, and an overwhelming sense of despair and hopelessness filled the air. The dark monsters circled the four humans, closing the distance.

“Prevail or perish,” Kita said. “Though I feel the latter is more likely, I regret.”

“I already tell you,” Kenyatta snapped, fighting off the effects of the demonic incursion. “I don’t plan to check out today! Dem wan war wit us, we bring it to em!”

Kenjiro glanced at Kita, and it seemed to him that for the first time, the samurai actually understood the Jamaican’s heavily accented western tongue. With a nod to his companions, Kita snapped his weapon together into its blade-ended staff form. Kenyatta crossed his swords downward, then slowly raised them while sliding them across from each other. When they were eye-level, he flipped his wrists, spinning the blades in his hands, then snapped them downward at his sides.

With one long, slow breath, Kenjiro slid his sword along the side of its scabbard, and when the tip of the sword reached the end of the scabbard, he replaced it in its home, sliding it ceremoniously within the sheath with a
click
when the hilt rested flat against it. With his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, he bowed, not to the malignant creatures before him, but to the ancestors that stood with him now, those who would guide his body in the greatest battle of his life.

Shinobu lowered his stance, fingering the hilt of his weapon his right shoulder. “I’m ready for a vacation,” he said.

“And you will have that vacation no matter the outcome,” Kita answered. “The length of your vacation, however, will depend on who wins the fight.”

“All are one in the same to me,” the strider replied. “Perish now or perish later, it makes little difference.”

“Then remember the purpose of this fight and perish another day,” Kita said.

“So solemn,” Shinobu replied.

The four warriors stood in the midst of a small army of Quentranzi demons, many of which were closing in on them, while others made their way toward the tower. To Kenyatta, they looked like an army of demented berserkers, clawing and hacking everything in their paths.

“Primal bloodlust!” Shinobu said dryly. “My favorite kind of foe.”

“Then I’ll leave more of them for you to deal with,” Kita said. “We should try to stay together as long as possible,” he added. “We’ll know who’s at our back.”

“Good theory,” Shinobu replied. “But I don’t think we’ll be able to hold this position much longer.”

The other three warriors followed Shinobu’s gaze above their heads to see one of the fiends descending on them. They held their position, and as soon as the demon’s first foot touched the ground, all four of the warriors spun, cut it to pieces, and returned to their original positions. In the middle of their formation, the demon evaporated to a sickly mist that descended back to the abyss.

And then the battle began anew, the four warriors along with the guardian, his pupil, and the few remaining magical defenders, battling the fiercest enemies they ever knew existed. Iel and his student were severely outnumbered, but managed to keep an efficient defensive position.

After what seemed like days, the defenders managed to gain the advantage, cutting through the demon forces and gradually pushing them back. Such progress was not without cost, however. Kenyatta had sustained a nasty rip at his shoulder, which bled freely and slowed the use of his right arm. Kenjiro ignored the pain of a gash he sustained from a narrowly avoided stab at his heart. Kita managed to defeat two of his enemies, only to be attacked by another, while the strider—who fared the best of all at the moment—cut through his enemies with that otherworldly sword of his.

“After this is done, I would really like to know why you’re so good at this,” Kita remarked between breaths.

No response was forthcoming, however, as Shinobu had been forced away from the group by a bigger threat. Two red dimensional gates appeared in front of the strider, causing him to dive to the side. He was quick to his feet, and spun to face two Zzrt hissing and growling as they slowly crept toward him, tongues waving and red eyes glowing. “You guys look a little tougher than the others,” Shinobu said as he backed away from the hulking creatures.

More dimensional doors continued to appear, and Quentranzi demons of all types covered the battleground. “There are too many,” Iel said. “We must retreat within the tower, now!”

Mira skittered backwards and narrowly avoided a slashing claw that would have cut her in half. She threw a handful of pebbles at the beast, focusing on the harmless missiles until they elongated into spears. They struck home in the demon’s chest, and she channeled energy from the Takashaniel that sent the fiend writhing and crashing into the wall of the tower. It shrieked in sudden agony as the pureness of Takashaniel ripped the life force from it, and sent it screaming back to the abyss.

The pupil spun in the direction of a bellow that sounded like a war cry. She looked to eastern hills and saw a large figure, half horse, half humanoid, standing on its hind legs and holding a huge war hammer with a spike on each end, high above its head. It raced down the hill, and behind it came raced a force of howling half-horse, half-men, holding their weapons aloft. A pained smile of relief crept across Mira’s face. “Master Iel!” she cried. “The centaurs have come. The
real
centaurs!”

“Not just them,” Iel said, still battling the last of a group of demons that had ventured their way. Mira turned to the charging figures once more. After studying them closer, she noticed that they bore passengers. Small passengers.

“The brunts!” she exclaimed. “They’ve brought the brunts with them!”

“Indeed,” Iel said, moving beside her after dispatching the lesser demons back to the abyss. “Let’s hope it will be enough.

* * *

The mighty centaurs and their unlikely passengers flew down the hill and across the battlefield, hooting and roaring as they closed the distance between themselves and their prey. On Grimhammer’s back rode Grit, the leader of the brunts.

“Now
this
is a fight, eh horse-man?” Grit shouted.

“Don’t call me ‘horse-man,’” Grimhammer snapped.

“Err yer never did have a humor about yer did yer, horse-ma … uh, centaur,” Grit teased. “Now, yer get me close enough to one a them err stinkin’ quen-thingies and I’ll be doin’ me stuff!”

The centaurs and their eager riders cut straight demonic mass. As they passed, the brunts launched themselves from the backs of their carriers and hacked into the demon forces with the same bloodlust as their enemies. Now relieved of their riders, the centaurs sped through the battle and out of the other side. Grimhammer led a group to circle to the left, while Warsong led a group to the right. Once on opposite sides of the horde, they began working their way back in, hacking and slashing every fiend in their path.

“This is not going to work,” Warsong yelled. “They do not fall to our weapons!”

“Without the right weapons to fight these things, we cannot win!” another centaur yelled. True enough, a strong blow managed to stagger some of the smaller demons, but had little effect on the larger ones. A pained grunt drew Warsong’s attention, and he turned to see that one of the smaller centaurs had been lashed by the whip of a green-skinned demon.

The hearty warrior staggered but fought on, growling away the pain through clenched bloody teeth. Warsong could see that the wound was mortal, as the wounded centaur’s lifeblood flowed from his body. Still he fought, beating back the relentless creatures. He glanced over at Warsong, and the group leader saw death in those eyes. Warsong cried out, trying to fight his way toward his injured comrade, but the dying warrior bellowed and turned his back to the commander, hacking and slashing, batting demons away in every direction with what strength remained to him. The Quentranzi were too much, however, and soon he fell to many more attacks that descended upon him from every direction.

Warsong felt a coldness settle over him, then rage burned it away. He spotted the green-skinned demon that had struck his friend down, and with a mighty cry, he charged through the demon forces, blasting fiends from his path with strength beyond anything he had known he was capable of. Within seconds, he was upon the green demon. With its double-tipped tail and eagle-like talons extended from four fingers, the fiend thought it would be more than a match for the smaller centaur. It could not have been more wrong.

The enraged Warsong brought forth his spear and impaled the hunch-backed fiend, lifting it into the air and over his head to slam it to the ground.

The enraged commander stomped and trampled the fiend with such ferocity that it startled his own allies. After his rage played out, he backed away from the beast and dodged an attack from yet another fiend. He kicked out with his hind legs and knocked the beast away. The green demon with the whip recovered, and its whip lit afire. It stared murderously at the centaur commander. Warsong was prepared to meet it, but at the sight of his other adversaries—recovering despite injuries that would have killed any normal enemy—decided against that action. They were doing nothing more than wasting energy.

He searched the battleground, but by now, all of the defenders were engaged and surrounded. A heavy sense of despair settled over his shoulders, but he clenched his teeth and fought it back. At the sight of the green fiend approaching him, the one that had killed his friend, Warsong’s rage flared once again. The monster managed to score a few blows, but the enraged warrior seemed immune to any injury.

Warsong ripped and stabbed the fiend so violently that even the other dark creatures kept their distance. With one last thrust with all his strength, Warsong drove his spear so far through the demon that his hands reached its chest. He reared back on his hind legs, and came forward and butted his head into the creature’s face. He ripped his spear free and saw that this time, the demon seem weakened. Black, tainted blood poured from the wound, and it staggered away.

Not wasting the time to figure out his sudden fortune, Warsong beat the demon down until it could no longer sustain itself, and it slowly dissipated back to the abyss.

* * *

Mira worked to protect Iel while he channeled Daunyanic power through himself and into their newly arrived allies. The charges upon their weapons were temporary, but it would enable them to defeat their demonic foes.

Not long after he had fallen into concentration, a Behematranzi materialized before them. The four-legged beast looked as if it weighed tons, and Mira was certain that a swat from one of those tree-sized legs would be the end of her. Two wavy horns protruded from the front of its head, and as it opened its yawning maw, she could see four fangs as long as swords.

The sight of such a beast sent tremors of fear through her body, but she controlled it, grabbed a long stick lying at her feet. She focused on the stick, and it doubled in length and formed into a hissing and spitting Naga serpent. Although she hated to dabble in the dark arts, Iel had insisted that it was necessary for the rare instances when one is faced with a foe that only a similar force could match. She could have changed the stick into a viper with considerably less effort, but a Naga was lethal in a different way. She used it carefully, focusing to ensure that the creature did not turn on her instead.

The Behematranzi reared to strike, but the Naga was quicker, and struck it several times in the belly. Mira lost track of time as she fought the thing, barely avoiding death, before she and the Naga were finally able to defeat the tank-like beast. Calling up what strength she had left, she stood guard with the magical serpent until Iel awoke from his meditation.

“It is done,” the guardian finally said, “but not before the centaurs have lost a few of their clan, I fear.”

Mira fought back the lump forming in her throat. “I heard Warsong’s cry.”

Iel laid a hand on her shoulder. “Grief must wait.”

Just then, the guardian noticed the angry Naga she held by the tail, its head waving through the air in search of any would-be enemies. “Well done,” he said.

* * *

Hours passed as the battle raged from midday to night, and now dawn was approaching. The four humans had fought valiantly, but time and lack of rest began to wear at them. The enormous titan had fallen to the bite of the mighty Sekimaru, and the struggle had left Akemi unconscious on the ground when her brother reached her. He hurried back toward Takashaniel with her over his shoulder, cutting and dodging attack after attack.

“Him not last long like dat,” Kenyatta said to Kita.

“Then let’s give him a little cover,” Kita responded, cutting down yet another of the twisted monsters. He turned, then grunted when Kenyatta tackled him to the ground.

He heard Kenyatta groaning over his shoulder, and rolled over to see his friend’s eyes clamped shut in a grimace. He looked over Kenyatta’s shoulder and saw a single needle protruding from his back. Several feet away, the demon that Kita had defeated squirmed on the ground, and he saw that it had launched those poisonous needles before it succumbed to its wounds. Kenyatta had saved him from taking a fistful of those things in the back, but one of the cursed needles had found its mark.

Kenyatta scratched at the wound while struggling to his feet. “Dammit,” Kita growled, draping his friend’s other arm over his shoulder and helping him up. “Now we’ve got to hurry
you
to the tower.” He looked to the strider for help, but Shinobu was having a particularly rough time with two Zzrt, who slashed and leaped at him such savagery, he didn’t know how the man was still alive.