Element Wielder (The Void Wielder Trilogy Book 1) (15 page)

As if the massive Cidralic wasn’t trouble enough, he was flanked by two robed figures. They were much smaller than Cidralic, and carried no weapons. Their entire bodies were fully covered in blood red robes, with the exception of their long, decaying fingertips, which appeared at the end of their sleeves. Piercing yellow eyes stared at them from under the crimson hoods. As they inched closer to the Asturian army, they growled maliciously. It sounded like something between the snarl of a wolf and the howling of the wind.

“I’ve had enough of this freak show,” said Benoit. “I will end this here and now.” With his sword in hand, he rushed forward. One of the ghouls positioned himself before him. Benoit threw himself on the ground and rolled under the ghoul before it had a chance to react. He came back up to his feet and jumped. Holding his sword over his head and shouting at the top of his lungs, he glided across the air toward the empress. His sword was inches from the palanquin when a figure lunged at him from behind the shadows.

The figure’s fire-infused sword drove through Benoit’s chest, who screamed in agony as his body convulsed. Smoke flowed from his hair and his skin turned a dark crimson color. The commander’s stiff body fell to the floor, his dark, blood-rimmed mouth open and twisted, as an eternal remainder of the pain he had endured.

Sheridan blinked rapidly.

Aya gasped.

Falcon’s world became a blur of lightheadedness as he shook his head in disbelief.

Positioned proudly atop the commander’s disfigured corpse, with a sadistic smile across his face, stood Lao. 

Chapter 27

Falcon squeezed his eyes shut hoping to make the image dissolve, but when he opened them the same horrific scene welcomed him back. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. With a slow breath, Falcon suppressed the flutters in his belly. “What did you do to him, Draknorr? Brainwash him?”

Draknorr laughed. “I did nothing of the sort. Your friend simply recognizes the winning side when he sees it. Look at you and your army. It’s filled with fools, and you’re the biggest of them all, unwilling to admit what is right before your eyes.”

“How could you do this, Lao?” asked Aya, her voice shaking as much as her body. “We’re your friends.”

A slow grin spread across Lao’s face, but he remained silent.

“This is no time for pleasantries,” said the dark knight, Draknorr. “Attack. Kill them all!”

Falcon’s mind was still in stun mode when the Suteckh soldiers commenced their attack. He clumsily unsheathed his katana and, in one unbalanced sweep, ran it through the first wave of assailants.

More soldiers rushed him. Falcon eyed the small opening in their armor above the waist. With a single well-placed swipe, he cut down four of them where they stood. He sensed danger behind him and turned just in time to avoid the spear aimed at his head. He countered by jumping forward and ramming the sword through the soldier’s stomach. The tall man made a sick gurgling sound as he crumpled to the ground.

Lao pushed two Suteckh soldiers at Falcon. “Get him, you fools. You have him surrounded.” But Falcon dispatched the two soldiers before they could bring down their weapons, which only served to make Lao hiss in anger.

Falcon moved toward Lao as an arrow whizzed past him, so close that it made his hair move. Falcon wielded a shield of earth to stop it, but before he could harden it the arrow found its mark between a young soldier’s eyes.

All around him Asturian soldiers fell, some dead, others barely alive. Their agonized screams permeated the air. He cringed at the havoc before him.

“Take out the Rohads and the rest will follow,” commanded Lao.

Both crimson ghouls pounced on Aya. They moved with speed and deadly precision.

Aya pulled out two small sticks she carried around her waist, and with a push of a button they extended to her trademark blue batons. With them in hand she blocked, dodged and weaved between her assailants’ attacks. Aya gestured with her hand. A thick burst of water exploded through the ground and thrust a ghoul thirty feet in the air. Then, with a loud thundering, it crashed back down to the ground.

The ghoul flipped back up as soon as he fell and continued his relentless punch attacks. Aya took a step back, her face revealing her shock at the demon’s quick recovery.

“Hang on, Aya!” shouted Falcon. “I’m on my way.”

“Stop him,” Lao said.

As ordered, the gargantuan Cidralic jumped in front of Falcon. Falcon grasped his swords tightly. He resisted the urge to cover his nose to suppress the morbid stench the poison wielder emitted.

“Yer going nowhere, Rohad.” Cidralic’s voice was hollow, like the sound a voice makes when one talks inside an empty building. “Yer be having an appointment with my poison.”

Cidralic brought his mace down. Falcon quickly wielded a shield of solid rock that absorbed the hit. The blow shattered the shield into a thousand pieces. Falcon’s arm ached, but he was glad he hadn’t taken the full impact of the mace.

“Stand still!” Cidralic swung the mace around and brought it in for another blow. This time Falcon took out his katana and wielded wind energy around it.

The wind-infused sword sliced through the thick chains as if they were invisible. Cidralic was left holding the green hilt as the spiked ball dropped to the ground.

“Yer be paying for this!” roared Cidralic, swinging his arms in a circular motion. He chanted some unknown verses. A thin, yellow mist emitted from his body. Falcon didn’t think it was possible, but the strange gas smelled worse than the master who had summoned it. It quickly spread toward the Asturian forces.

The Asturian soldiers closer to Cidralic collapsed when the mist reached them. They opened their mouths, but the only sound they produced was a silent scream. They twitched as large boils overtook their bodies. In a matter of seconds their faces twisted into horrible mutations. The Suteckh soldiers remained unharmed.

“Get back,” Falcon commanded, but as he spoke a hint of mist flowed into his mouth. His eyesight blurred. His lungs burned. His skin felt as it was melting. Through the pain he got hold of himself and scattered back.

He took in a breath of fresh air and some of the pain evaporated. Yet, the mist still continued to seep toward him and the Asturians.

“Everyone, stand behind me,” ordered Falcon. The few remaining soldiers scampered to his rear. He spun his sword while wielding wind around the group. A wall of wind formed before him. He swung his weapon. The yellow smog raced back to its master.

Peering through the mist, Falcon made out the figure of Cidralic trapped in his own poisonous attack. He breathed a sigh of relief.

But then a sudden, perverse cackle burst from within the mist. “Thanks for the boost of energy,” mocked Cidralic. “As yer see, I be no ordinary wielder. Poison flows through my veins. It be my life source. Yer be a fool to think yer be harming me.”

A cold chill ran down Falcon’s spine as he realized all he’d done was strengthen his enemy. The all-too familiar surge of anger boiled within him. His blood pumped in his ear as his breathing intensified.

“That’s right,” mocked Cidralic. “The angrier yer be getting, the more reckless yer become.”

Falcon’s voice deepened. His physical features changed to the same wild, monstrous ones he had adopted during the Rohad duels. “You want to see me angry?” he snarled. “You got it.”

Falcon rushed forward. Cidralic threw a hard punch. Falcon didn’t bother evading. At his command, a dark skeletal hand crept out from the ground and grabbed Cidralic in a tight squeeze. The poison wielder kicked his feet and legs in a futile attempt to break free. The more he struggled, the tighter Falcon squeezed.

“Red lightning!” shouted Falcon. The sky parted. Bolt after bolt of crimson lightning rained down on Cidralic. His armor shattered, his helmet cracked as a rotten-smelling green ooze dripped from every fracture.

“H-h-how can this be?” stuttered a baffled Cidralic, barely able to form words. “Yer be a void wielder. How yer be wielding lightning and dark elements?”

“You’ll never know,” replied Falcon, laughing. “Now die!” He fueled all of his remaining energy into his next attack. A moment later a dark red bolt descended on the immobile Cidralic. But the killing blow never came. Instead Draknorr, who had until now stood idly by, darted forward. The lightning bolt hit Draknorr directly in the chest and dissolved harmlessly.

Even through his rage, Falcon was awe-struck. No one should have survived such an attack.

“It’s been a long time since I met someone worth fighting,” growled Draknorr, coming toward him. “You’d better not disappoint me.”

“I’ll teach you to interfere with a hunter and its prey,” said Falcon. He shot toward his new foe with a roundhouse kick. The attack connected with the dark knight’s armored chest. Nothing happened.

More power. I need more power!

Falcon’s body trembled as he summoned the dark energy within him. A black shapeless blob of matter formed between his hands. It grew in size until it was half the size of his body.

“Be gone,” he commanded, shooting the mass.

Draknorr produced a chain that buzzed with lightning ripples coursing through it. The chain slammed into the dark blob, causing it to diffuse. He then swung it up. There was a loud crack as the chain hit Falcon in the jaw.

Falcon fell back. His katana dropped to the ground. A chain whip wrapped itself around his neck. With a strong yank, Draknorr forced Falcon to his knees. He pulled the chain through the ground, dragging the void wielder along with it. Falcon struggled to loosen the grip, but it was too tight. He gasped for air, but none found its way into his lungs.

Falcon’s world faded. Seconds later the dark knight released his grip. He stared down at him. “I expected a much better fight than this. You’re not even worth me killing.” He turned to Cidralic, who had recovered. “Take care of him, make it slow and painful.”

“At yer command, Master Knorr.”

Falcon desperately searched for the power within him, but found none. The abundant energy that had engulfed him minutes ago was now non-existent. His entire body ached. Blood oozed through his ragged clothes. His swollen right eye was completely shut.

“Not be so tough now,” said Cidralic, delivering a series of kicks to Falcon. The hits landed all over his body.

“Stop!” pleaded Aya, or at least Falcon thought it was Aya. His ears were ringing so loudly that he couldn’t be sure. But Cidralic didn’t stop, he continued on his relentless attack. Between kicks Falcon caught glimpses of what was going on around him. 

The few surviving Asturians looked on, unsure of what to do. Sheridan lay on the ground. Dead? Unconscious? Falcon couldn’t tell. Only Aya remained on her feet, single handedly fending off both ghouls and countless Suteckh soldiers.

“Stop, Aya,” said Lao, as he stepped beside Falcon and motioned Cidralic to cease his attack. At first, Falcon thought that Lao was about to help, but he then brought his sword to Falcon’s neck. “Yield or I kill him.”

Falcon motioned her to not listen, but she was looking past him and at Lao, with a cold hatred in her eyes. To his dismay, she stopped fighting and released the grip on her batons. They clattered loudly on the hard ground, causing his eardrums to ring even louder.

Both ghouls delivered a volley of punches to Aya’s midsection. She fell to one knee.

“You have potential, boy,” admitted Draknorr, kneeling beside Falcon. “You could be a valuable asset to the Suteckh.”

Lao’s eyes widened. “But, sir, he would never join us. He doesn’t have the drive or the character.”

The dark knight held his hand up. Lao grimaced, but refrained from saying another word.

Draknorr rested his giant claws on Falcon’s neck. “If what Lao speaks is true, then someone like you could cause us a lot of problems down the road. I’ll have to eliminate you.”

Lao smiled.

Falcon gasped for air. He did not fear for himself, but he did not want anyone else to suffer for his weakness, especially Aya. Through the throbbing pain in his neck he mustered enough strength to shout one word.

“Run!”

The remaining Asturian soldiers dashed toward the giant double doors. Aya alone remained in place. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she met his gaze. Falcon’s heart sunk as the terrible truth dawned on him. She wasn’t going to abandon him, even if that meant dying.

The fleeing Asturian forces did not make it far. Suteckh soldiers intercepted them, driving swords through them.

“Ghouls, close those doors!” said Cidralic. The monsters took off toward the giant gates. Falcon lost sight of them through the fog, but he heard the creaking sound of the first door as they pushed it shut.

The little hope Falcon held out for Aya and the Asturians escaping shattered before him. As soon as the soldiers closed the second door, the troops’ only means of escape would be gone.

He waited.

The sound of the second door closing didn’t come.

“Ghouls! What be taking so long?” roared Cidralic after a minute of silence.

Falcon’s eyes widened as ghouls flew out from the thick fog and crashed by Cidralic’s feet. The yellow from their eyes had been extinguished, and their bodies did not move.

“Who be doing this?” thundered Cidralic. “Show yerself.”

Falcon saw a silhouette in the fog, but he couldn’t make out the identity of the figure. Not until the shadow emerged from the fog did Falcon get a good view of the ghoul’s killer. It was a knight unlike any Falcon had ever seen.

The mysterious knight was completely encased in paper-white slim armor. A few lines of silver and gold ran across his chest and the helmet. He wore an oversized gold belt that shined brightly despite the surrounding gloom. An imposing large white cape hung from his back, giving him a larger than life aura.

“Yer be dead!” Cidralic brought his massive arms down on the mysterious white knight. The knight blocked the incoming attack with one hand. With the other he brought forward a giant white spear. Before Cidralic could react he received a blow to the chest that floored him. 

“Get him!” ordered Cidralic from the ground where he had crumpled.

Countless soldiers rushed the knight. He flung his hand around and most of them flew through the air at his whim. The few Suteckh soldiers who managed to make it past his wielding were rewarded with an instantaneous death at the end of his spear. In a matter of seconds the ground lay littered with dozens of defeated men. The remaining Suteckh soldiers took a step back. Even Cidralic dragged his crippled body away from the warrior.

Apparently forgetting all about Falcon, Draknorr swung his chain whip at the mysterious man.

The white knight sidestepped the attack. Draknorr swung his chain again, this time aiming for his enemy’s head. The chain whizzed over the white knight’s helmet as he ducked. The white knight caught the chain with his spear and forced it out of Draknorr’s grip. The demonic leader stood weaponless as his chain fell beyond his reach.