Rise From The Ashes (City of Era)

How could this have actually happened?

After everything that had happened in Kingdom Darkness, after all the things they had faced when going up against Faera’s forces, they deserved a break. Both he and Serilda had pushed themselves to their limits and they had felt that, maybe perhaps, they had earned themselves a short reprieve. So they had journeyed to Era, intent on doing some errands and perhaps meeting up with Branwen. It had been awhile since the God Slayer had seen the older man and after everything, he probably deserved some kind of explanation. There was also the matter of asking him about Gren – supposedly his father was alive so there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the Rune Knight would have an idea on such a thing.

They had turned in the criminals they had meant to bring and were just about ready to go find Branwen when a loud and earth-shattering explosion had rocked the ground beneath them. Glancing at one another briefly and then to the closest window had revealed geysers of dark smoke drifting up from the actual city. Cries of agony and terror reached even through the walls and panes of glass, a sure sign that something terrible was happening and it was not avoiding the citizens. They tore out of the building, dead set on charging to the city’s defense when yet another detonation shook the world around them, this time from the Magic Council building. Two near simultaneous explosions and in such a short distance away from one another. This was clearly some kind of coordinated attack. But it also meant that Serilda and Mythal had to split up – neither one of them could be in two places at once and it was unacceptable to focus on one area rather than the other. The Voidwalker took off towards the Council building and the Darkness King raced down the hill into the city.

As he came to a near sliding stop, a small Star Wolf skidded on the ground beside him. Unlike Serilda’s wolf which was practically full grown, Gren was still practically a puppy in size and in heart. Though this was one of the rare times he had a far more serious look on his small face, his dark fur seemed to ripple with a purple light, the energy giving him a near smoky sheen. He wuffed excitedly, eager to test out his mettle against the villains that had dared attack the city.

The destruction was centralized to the opposing end of the city so far but was spreading rapidly. Much like a tidal wave working over a shore, the chaos would soon swallow up the entirety of the metropolis if he didn’t act quickly. As he rounded a corner towards the center of town, he could see all of the citizens running around in a wild, near manic flow. There was no coordination and plenty of people were being pushed to the ground and practically trampled. Mythal pushed through the people just as several Rune Knights came from the other side of the square, looking to bring some kind of organization to the panicked citizens. The men and women roared their voices over the screams, pointing in certain directions to cut the flow and even out the people fleeing. Several of the people continued to race in their own ways but the authoritative voices of the Knights quelled some of the fear temporarily and corralled a good portion of the people.

Mythal went over and picked several of the trampled citizens to their feet, making sure they were capable of moving before sending them on their way. He paused for only a brief moment to look up towards the hillside, where the Magic Council building was. Smoke was billowing off of the structure as well and he could hear the pained cries of people within. Once he took care of whatever was attacking the city, he’d make sure he could get back to aid Serilda. She didn’t need his help of course but he felt better about backing her up.

“Mythal? Mythal Ragnos?” A voice called out, drawing his attention behind him.

The God Slayer turned to see the young, familiar Rune Knight jogging over to him, looking far more weary than cheery. The man had been a recruit when Mythal had come here last, having just joined the Knights in hopes of finding adventure. He’d been less than thrilled over the prospect of duty until the God Slayer had come in and practically beat the crap out of him and his brethren. Since then, he’d run into the man in Hargeon and the Haunted Mansion, both jobs involving the Rune Knights. It seemed he couldn’t get away from the man… though right now, he was glad to see a familiar face. “Hey…” he said as he turned to face him completely.

“Jeez, didn’t expect to find you here,” the man half-laughed, a nervous tinge to his voice.

“Any idea what’s happenin’?” Mythal asked, nodding in the direction of the smoke.

The man shook his head. “When the first explosion hit, my commander ordered me to fall back and take care of the citizens. Once we’ve evacuated the city, we’re to split our forces – one group will head up to aid the Magic Council while the other will return to him.”

“Is it Branwen?”

“Yes. He was running a training routine when the attack started. He’s probably right in the thick of things right now,” the Rune Knight stated simply. “Are you going to him?”

Mythal was about to answer when his ears and senses picked up something. Movement; quick, agile movement that was so swift he could barely pinpoint it. Fast moving enemies from the sound of it. A solid landing in the shadow of a rooftop gave him just enough warning to throw himself at the young Rune Knight, yanking him from his feet and pulling him out of position. A slew of swords, all of varying shapes, stabbed into the ground right where he had been standing a moment ago. Several of the other Rune Knights were not as lucky; blades pierced their torsos and their dying cries fell with their bodies to the ground.

Mythal adjusted his footing as the young Rune Knight stumbled to the ground, yanking Curse out from behind him. It flipped around instantly and he pulled the hair trigger just beneath the handle, releasing a gunshot in what seemed like a blind shot. But the sharp gasp of pain that came from the roof, followed by the limp body of a man falling and hitting the pavement, showed he knew exactly where the man was.

“How in the…?” The man gasped out. “I didn’t even see them!”

“There’s more,” Mythal explained, yanking the man up to his feet. “They’re movin’ along the rooftops, trying to get on either side of evacuatin’ people. We gotta move.” He was already heading in the direction of the fleeing citizens.

“What about Branwen?” The man asked, stumbling but following right after the God Slayer.

“Bastard’s lived this long – I doubt a few gnats are gonna take him down,” the Darkness King shouted back. As much as he was worried about Branwen – and he was worried – it was far more important that he help the people get out of the town first. There were only a handful of Rune Knights moving with the pack, the others felled by the man from the roof.

He had a sick feeling that wasn’t going to be enough.

There were cries of pain and anguish all around them as Mythal and the young Rune Knight charged up the street, tracking the heels of the pedestrian group that had passed through. The other man was still a bit shaken, but he was moving with purpose, which was saying something considering the chaos around them. They hadn’t made it nearly half the street’s length when the sound of a explosion on the roof near them. The Darkness King spun, slamming his heel into the ground and preparing for another fight. What he saw was another dark wizard flying over the rooftops, crossing the trench between buildings and slamming into a wall on the opposing row of structures, where he stuck like a pin in a board.

A voice called out to them from an approaching citizen, drawing both men’s attention. The God Slayer turned to face the approaching knight, his stance defensive, as this… strangely armored man came charging towards them. With a suit as black as night, with white adornments that highlighted the plates on his chest piece and one combined one over the face that resembled a skull’s façade, Mythal assumed by appearance that this was an enemy coming to head them off. He introduced himself as Darknight; a rather on-the-nose way of describing himself. He also claimed to be there to assist. Beside him was a… well, it was hard to describe what he was seeing. He was a humanoid-like being, standing several inches above Mythal and the Rune Knight, and adorned like some kind of… Mythal honestly didn’t have a word.

It seemed he was here to help, or so he said. Given that everything was falling apart around them, the God Slayer didn’t really have much time to grill him to verify his intentions. If he wanted to help, then he would just have to trust it for now. If he saw anything change, he would be sure to punish him for it. “Mythal,” he said, jabbing a thumb at himself quickly. It was about the only intro that this Darknight was going to get, given the danger of the situation. “If you’re offerin’ to help, I ain’t gonna turn ya down. We’re trying to make sure the people that came through here don’t get clobbered by these bastards on the roofs,” he said, gesturing to the structures around them.

Just as he finished speaking, he felt more movement in the shadows above. With all the flickering fires all around them, even more shadows were being cast around the city. Though he didn’t have solid pinpoints on all of them, he had a general idea of where people were moving or standing. He glanced upward as a group of eight figures took off down the rooftops, tearing down the path they had been following. A woman’s scream for help drew his attention in the opposite direction of the charging dark wizards, causing him to growl between his teeth. Too many directions to be pulled in. Luckily, an armored man had come to help him out.

“You, you and you” he said, pointing at Darknight, the odd white humanoid and the Rune Knight beside him. “You three split that group in two. Darknight, you and your… uh… ‘friend’ get up there and take them from behind. You defend them on the ground. I’m gonna try to get over and help the other people callin’ for help. I’ll meet up with you.” And just like that, his magic wrapped around him in a brimming, black cloak. Wings thrust out from his back and a dark halo hung above his head. He nodded to the three once more before he soared into the air, curling up above the building…

Just in time for a group of dark wizards to zap into existence on the roof. Each one of them turned to face the flying God Slayer, pointing at him. “Get that bastard!” One of them yelled, summoning forth a bolt of lightning in his hand. The Darkness King narrowed his eyes and jerked his body to the left just as the streak of electricity cracked through the air, narrowly missing him by inches. He spun around and dipped down, charging into offending party member with the full strength of his movement. Essentially shoulder slamming him, the dark wizard was sent flying over the street and onto the roof across, rolling a few times before coming to a solid stop. Mythal twisted around, Curse kicking up into its sword position, and swung at the next closest wizard, carving a shallow wound diagonally across his chest. His yelp of pain fell quiet instantly as the God Slayer kicked him in the stomach, driving out all the air from his lungs.

The young Rune Knight watched Mythal soar into the air and then immediately dive bomb into an apparent party of dark wizards. Truth be told, he felt a lot more confident with the God Slayer near him. His nerves were a bit ragged now that he didn’t have that strength beside him. But he took a sharp inhale through his nostrils and forced himself to relax. Panicking now wouldn’t help anyone and if he hoped to do any good, he had to keep his head on his shoulders. Darknight was still here and while he didn’t enjoy the idea of being left alone with a stranger, he didn’t have much choice. They had a job to do. He turned to the vigilante and nodded. “You guys take the roof,” he restated the commands Mythal had given, drawing his sword from its sheath. “I’ll make sure none of them hit any of the citizens.” Once Darknight confirmed the news, the young Rune Knight would charge down the street, once more tailing after the fleeing citizens.

All he could hope was that he wasn’t too late to save them.

Mythal had his own issues to deal with, having just dove head first into a pack of dark wizards on the building across from them. The young Rune Knight watched the Darkness King take to the sky, clasped in wings seemingly made of a black smog. Once he had landed on the building, all that could be heard was the slight sounds of fighting and the occasional flash of magical energy. As much as he was concerned for the God Slayer, he knew he had agreed to do his own part in this mess. He turned to look at Darknight, receiving an answering nod for the orders and then watched as he scurried over to the building and began to scale it. He was about to move when he heard an agitated wuff from his side. His eyes traced over to see a wolf pup, the one that had been with Mythal the entire time before. He was pawing at the wall leading up to the roof, whining in annoyance that he couldn’t scale as easily as his master.

“Hey buddy… it’s okay. Why don’t you go find somewhere to hunker down until this is all over?” The young Rune Knight said, approaching Gren slowly and carefully. It was a terrible mistake on his part, letting his guard down to look after the pup. Even as he turned his gaze fully to the hound, there was a trio of dark wizards rounding the corner towards him. They picked up their pace when they saw he was distracted, their weapons up and ready to strike upon the man. Gren sniffed and spun away from the wall, turning to see the three pairs of feet rushing the Rune Knight from between his legs. With another wuff, this one far more determined, he rushed forward and dashed between the Rune Knight’s legs. As he struggled to understand what was going on, he turned to follow the hound’s path… only to find the three dark wizards practically upon him. But his shock was multiplied when a beam of dark energy shot out from the ground just before him, his eyes just barely catching the inkling of Gren as he released the geyser of magic energy from his gut. The three dark wizards didn’t stand a chance -- all three of them were lifted from their feet and sent flying backwards, their weapons spinning and embedding on the walls and through the windows around them.

The young Rune Knight stuttered, his breath and words trying to form but finding no firm hold. His eyes trailed down to the hound, who was panting with a goofy, lopsided grin on his face. Finally an amazed chuckle came out from his mouth as he collected himself. “Alright, never mind. How about you come with me?” He asked. Gren cocked his head to the side, clearly trying to understand what the young man was saying. But as the Rune Knight headed to follow the path that Darknight was trailing, the wolf wuffed and started to follow. He glanced upwards at the roof where Mythal was and then with a snort, turned and raced towards the wall. Before the Rune Knight could even reach out or speak, the dog leapt and then released another blast of magic energy while looking down. The tiny pup was skyrocketed -- or perhaps leapfrogged -- into the air and disappeared over the lip of the building, having scaled the structure in a matter of seconds.

“Huh…” The Knight said softly before turning and taking off down the path. He simply didn’t have time to play around; he would have to trust the hound and the Darkness King could hold their own against whatever was up there. It took him a minute or so but before long he could hear the sound of battle up on the roof. And he could see the group of civilians that were being evacuated, their moving mass like an ocean of heads and shoulders. But just as he released a sigh of relief, his blood froze up from the sight of several dark wizards coming out from the opposing buildings and lining up shots. He picked up his speed, bringing his held sword to the side and in an attack position. “Sharpen,” he muttered softly, his magical essence flowing through his lips and onto his sword. The literal word appeared on the metal of the weapon, rivulets of blue magic running through the length of the weapon. The sharp side released a sharp sound, not unlike the ringing of metal against a belt. The blade itself already looked more dangerous, the glimmer of fires and the sun practically making the metal glow. But that wasn’t enough for the young Rune Knight. “Ignite,” he followed up with another spell, the word pasting itself to the sword’s flat side. Flames surged to life and wrapped around the weapon, engulfing it from tip to guard and howling in a hungry inferno.

The dark wizards had almost no chance to prepare as he came up behind them. His blade swung left and right, aiming for major muscle fibers to disarm limbs from body. Their pained cries caused the moving group of civilians to scream in fear and begin to shift even more erratically. As the young Rune Knight twisted his weapon around to cut down the last dark wizards, he called out to the people. “Don’t panic! Stay together and keep moving towards the city limits!” He called out, his voice about as steady as it could possibly be given the situation. His eye scoured the rooftop looking for Darknight, spotting the man interweaving in a battle of steel with several dark wizards. But it was the figure behind Sigurd that caused the Rune Knight to slam his heels into the ground. “Darknight! Watch out!”

Whether the wizard-turned-superhero reacted to the Rune Knight’s words would provide very different, albeit painful outcomes. If he was able to hear the words and instinctively move out of the way, he would most likely be surprised by the large warhammer that swung through the air right where he had been only a moment ago, the heavy and flat end of it oozing a thick purple mass. If he hadn’t quite had the time to duck out of the way, Darknight would find himself hit hard by the hammer and sent sprawling over the rooftop. He would also feel his muscles weaken, the energy from them seemingly flowing up towards his back and specifically to the point of contact.

“Well looky what we got here,” a deep, feminine voice hissed out towards him. Upon looking at her, Darknight would find himself standing up against one giant of a woman -- a female that was easily eight feet tall. She was far more manly than several of the other dark wizards around, with sculted abdominals that were out in show below a fairly gnarled leather croptop. Her hair was frayed and wirey, like she had just rolled out of bed and that bed was a haypile next to the pigsty. She was dressed like a wild woman, with carved leather clothing and boots wrapped in wool. But the warhammer she possessed was of the highest caliber -- clean and pure  steel from top to bottom, it was easily the height of Sigurd and perhaps the weight as well. The bulbous end was the size of an anvil and similarly shaped as well, with a sharp spike on the back end of it. It had been a good thing she’d hit him with the flat end.

She glanced between Darknight and his two summons, unamused at their looks. “Bunch of freaky looking fairies you got there,” she said, snickering. “Tell me, do they melt?” She spun the hammer around so it was up near her face. Her lips moved in a circle, her cheeks puffing slightly, before she spat a purple loogie right onto the end of the hammer. The substance spread over the end of it and began to bubble and sizzle, promising absolutely nothing nice.

Meanwhile, on the other buildings, Mythal had been more than surprised by the sudden appearance of Gren. He had been mid-dodge of a sword swipe when he saw the pup come sailing over the edge of the building, howling in excitement. He bounced off one of the dark wizard’s heads, causing him to stumble forward enough that Gren was able to jump down without injury. As the dark wizard righted himself, he was suddenly met with a blast of dark energy that sent him flying over the edge of the building. “As entertainin’ as that was,” Mythal said as he swung his fist forward and knocked a dark wizard literally out of his boots. “Don’t go flyin’ anymore, got it?”

Gren wuffed with a tone that seemed to promise no such thing. The Darkness King rolled his eyes just as he managed to send the last man smashed onto the rooftop, denting the shingles with a permanent crater. His gaze lingered on the ground for only a moment longer before he spotted yet another pack of dark wizards across the gap, racing along more rooftops. “Why can’t they just stay on the ground…?” the God Slayer grumbled as he ran over to Gren and picked him up. With a grunt, he leapt the gap and practically tackled the wizard leading the pack, knocking him over the edge and to the ground below. The Star Wolf leapt out from Mythal’s arms and onto the closest wizard, teeth out and ready to bite and tear into the man.

The God Slayer joined the fight but out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something -- or rather, someones -- on the street below. What looked like an adult blonde woman and a child were standing among the bodies of several dark wizards. Was she protecting the kid or something? “‘Ey!” He called out, as he dipped to the side to avoid a blast of ice magic. “You two better get outta here. It ain’t safe!”

He’d attempted to warn him. He’d seen the massive shadow that loomed over Darknight, threatening to launch an attack on him while he was distracted. But that didn’t stop the warhammer from flying in and slamming into the hero’s side, his body bending at a most atrocious angle for only a moment before he was sent sprawling over the ground like a tumbleweed in the wind. The once hopeful Darknight slammed into the edge of the rooftop with a sickening thud, his body pressed up against the surface before collapsing down onto the ground. The two beings that he had summoned lost their connection to their source and quickly shriveled up, disappearing into the air like fluttering beads of dust.

The barbarian woman chortled as she stomped over to the unconscious superhero, her worn and yellowed teeth oozing with the same purple liquid that had made her attack so palpable. As her warhammer sizzled in her hand, she lifted a single foot just enough to push the man onto his back. He was surely out of it, not responding at all to the way that she was moving him with her foot. Seeing that his day in the fight was over, she snorted in annoyance. “Pity. I was hoping for more,” she remarked as she brought her other hand around and took hold of her weapon with both hands. She brought it up over her head, turning it about so that the sharp end was pointed downwards and directly for Sigurd. No point in melting him; it was easier to just end his pitiful life there and then.

But before she could unleash the hammer’s deathly blow, the roar of “Detonate” echoed through the blazing flames of the city. A stream of magical fire, as thin as a wire, shot out from the end of a sword and slammed into the woman’s back, exploding on impact. She grunted and staggered forward, accidentally tripping over the edge of the rooftop and stumbling down over it. The sword of the Rune Knight hissed out a trail of smoke as his spell dissipated. He swung it to the side to clear away the remnants of the arcane ability and raced over to Darknight to check on him. “Sir, are you okay?” He asked the masked man, hoping to rile some kind of answer. When none came, he carefully reached over to try and get a reading on the man’s pulse. It was there – he was alive!

That was something at least. “We need to get you out of here before…” As he was saying it, he felt the roof underneath him begin to shift. The mortar holding the bricks together was loosening and the edge of the ceiling was beginning to crumble in. It was only a moment later that the entire area that he and Sigurd were on fell from its rooted spot and fell down towards the ground. The Rune Knight grabbed for Darknight and pulled his limp body to him, turning himself towards the rushing ground. When they hit, his armor took the brunt of the impact but it still practically knocked the wind from him. His legs rolled over his ass and he slid over the street, the sound of metal screeching over the pavement. Sigurd rolled over the road next to him, mostly undamaged after the Rune Knight had taken most of the impact.

As they both came to a stop, the young Knight lifted his head up towards the building they had fallen from. There, hanging from her embedded warhammer, was the barbaric woman. She had stumbled over the edge of the structure but had managed to swing her weapon around and plant herself against the wall. From there, she must have used her acidic magic to melt through the building to make them follow after her. He had to admit; he didn’t expect her to be that quick thinking. His eyes scoured the ground for his sword, finding it resting just near Sigurd’s shoulder. He yanked it up quickly and pushed himself to his feet, taking a fighting stance.

“Ho ho, so you want to take the wimpy man’s place?” She asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“In the name of the Rune Knights of Era, I demand you come down from that building, lay down your weapon and surrender,” the Knight responded, trying to reengage a more politic approach. They would certainly need people telling them who was responsible after they stopped the invasion and if he could bring in this woman, it would be all the better.

His words made her laugh even harder, as she released the warhammer with one hand to pat her stomach. “You’re a funny one. Alright, Mr. Knight. I will come down and lay my weapon down,” she said with a fading snicker. For a moment, the Rune Knight almost believed her – until she pushed herself off the building with force, practically leaping like a wild ape from a branch. She spun the hammer over her head as she descended and then brought it over and down, aiming to plant the anvil head onto the Rune Knight’s own top and flatten him like a pancake. He managed to leap back in time to dodge it, the massive weapon’s head shattering the ground where he had stood. The earth beneath him shifted as well from the impact, causing him to stumble slightly as he attempted to stay on his feet. His eyes shot over to Sigurd, only feet away from the woman’s leg. If she made a move towards him, he would have to react in time to save him once more.

But it seemed Darknight was completely forgotten to the giant. Her attention was fully focused on the Rune Knight and she turned to square up with him, her back fully to the unconscious superhero. With that out of mind, if only slightly, the Knight got back into position and leveled his sword with her. “If you do not surrender now, I will be forced to consider you a threat.”

The giantess chuckled once more. “Boy, I am so much more than that.” And with that final comment, she charge at him, her hammer embraced with both hands.

Mythal, on the other hand, had the unfortunate luck of witnessing a truly terrible act firsthand. He’d noticed the pair, the boy and the teenage girl, huddled near the edge of the street. Somehow they had managed to fight off the dark wizards, as there were several bodies lying around them. He honestly assumed that it had been the girl that had used some kind of magic to fight them off and was taking a quick moment of reprieve. He’d called out to them, telling them to run now while they had the chance. He’d turned back to his own situation enough to land a few hard punches and knock down a few wizards, while several more started to scramble away.

But as his eyes flicked back to the duo, he was surprised to see that the girl was… slumping. Something was sticking out of her and as he focused his gaze on it, he could barely make out its design. A… flower of some kind? It was embedded into her and clearly was the source of her predicament. But before he could speak or say anything, another dark wizard had made a wild dive at him in an attempt to tackle him off the building. Mythal had nearly gone over but his wings held him in the air and the poor soul that had attempted the hail mary couldn’t quite grip the Darkness King’s feet and fell to the ground below.

But the God Slayer’s vision was solely on the scene on the street below. The woman went completely limp on the ground, laying out across the street like the other bodies that surrounded them. He watched in awestruck horror as the boy brought forth another rose, a flower of his own creation, and laid it gently on her chest, like a griever might at her funeral. His blood started to boil as the boy looked skyward to him, calling out to him and assuring Mythal that the woman was “safe” now. And that smile that followed it – even from this vantage, the Darkness King knew the smile of one delighting in the bloodletting. He’d seen it countless times before now, in so many different psychopaths looking to cause pain and death.

This is what this dark guild had brought with them. Child soldiers, their teeth cut upon slaying innocent people who were just trying to live their lives. They weren’t just invading – they were testing out their new underage warriors. Children that had been kidnapped, brainwashed and turned to charge at a target with wild abandon. It would be one thing if he saw shock or horror on the child’s face; murder was unforgivable but it wasn’t going to damn someone who realized too late they weren’t a fan of it. But he could see it; the joy this boy took in taking the girl’s life. The confidence he had in its aftermath, his words practically taunting Mythal. The world seemed to slow down around the Darkness King for a brief moment as he hovered in the air, like a cursed angel on high.

But that moment was gone as quickly as it came. Every ounce of Mythal’s magic surged through him with such strength and abandon that he practically lost himself in it. His wings grew larger, his aura swallowed him up in pure, unbreeching darkness. He zipped down towards the ground and in front of the boy with such speed, it was almost as if he had reanimated before him. At that moment, he didn’t care if this boy was still a child. He didn’t care that there could be an opportunity to turn him away from this life, that he could make him repent for his actions. This boy had killed and had taken joy in it. There was no softness in Mythal to abide that. There was simply the punishment.

He swung his arm forward with such force, the building next to them peeled from the magical pressure. When and if it connected into the boy’s stomach, there would be a thunderous boom followed immediately by a shockwave that would incinerate any remaining glass in the immediate area. But the boy wouldn’t feel this, as the strength behind the punch would have lifted him from his feet and sent him skyward. One might have thought that the child had been thrown like a ball during a sports activity, with the height and speed he would go out of the city. Mythal didn’t think about whether he would live or die upon finally coming back down to the Earth. He just wanted to make him pay. He would make them all pay.

Gren’s barks from the rooftop where he had left pulled him out of the dark, his magic energy fading enough to reveal his form once more. His vision cleared and he let out a shuddering gasp as his anger began to cool, if only a little. He glanced back at the Star Wolf, running circles on the edge of the roof as it tried to look for a means to get down. Before the Darkness King could go up to retrieve him, the hound jumped, turning head over stomach as he fell. Another burp of dark magic erupted from his mouth and slowed him to a stop right before he hit the pavement, turning him about and allowing him to land evenly on the surface. Pleased with himself, Gren ran over to Mythal, tongue lolling out of his mouth. His amusement lifted as he bent his head down and sniffed at Dela’s body, whining softly.

“I know,” Mythal said softly, shaking his head. He didn’t need clarification that the woman was dead but even the finality of it still bothered him. He bent down and lifted her up carefully into his arms. She didn’t deserve to lie amongst the dead bodies of dark wizards. He rounded the corner and found himself at a four way intersection of streets, each one leading in different directions. “Which one leads to the civilians…?” He asked to the air around him.

Before he could choose a path, a building on the south side exploded, causing the entire area to rumble. Mythal spun around in time to see a smaller figure in the smoke running towards him, followed immediately by a much larger one. The young Rune Knight emerged from the end of the cloud, beaten and bruised from his fight. The giantess was right behind him, roaring as she charge after her retreating foe. She looked beaten as well but her rage was so great that even Mythal could feel it from here.

The young Knight spotted Mythal and then noticed the body he was carrying. He slammed his heels into the ground, not wanting to lead the giant woman right into the God Slayer and the innocent he had. But just as he did, the giantess cocked her arm back and let fly her warhammer like a javelin. It slammed into the young Knight, bending his body backwards over its form as he let out a roar of pain. He soared through the air and crashed into the ground, the warhammer clattering to the ground next to him. His sword left his hand as he slid along the surface, the hard material battering his face even more. The acid that had been on the head of the hammer now coated the back of his armor, oozing into the metal and towards his flesh beneath.

He wound up on his back as he came to the conclusion of his roll but the giant woman had leapt into the air, now quickly descending down towards him. The young Knight attempted to reach for his sword with his left hand but was stopped when her foot came down, full force, on his forearm. The sickening crunch of his arm shattering brought forth another cry of agony from him as the limb screamed in agony. His other arm instinctively went to try and free himself from the foot, slamming his fist against the large and heavy object. The woman’s cackle echoed in his pain-filled ears.

“Another wimp,” she spat down at him, pressing her heel down onto his arm harder. Her other foot raised and came down to kick the Knight in the stomach, driving the wind out of him and leaving him a gasping mess. The giantess inhaled sharply, the wet sound of her snorting up more mucus grating to the ears. Then she spat the acidic glob down right on the young Knight’s exposed bicep. The flesh-eating substance went to work immediately, gnawing through his skin and down into muscle, causing him to scream in utter pain. The giantess was preparing another spitball when Mythal came rushing in, his shoulder leading the charge as he threw himself against the woman. Even with all his strength, it only managed to push her a few inches back, dragging the young Knight with her. Infuriated, she reared her head up and brought her fists forward to punch at the Darkness King. His hands caught the attacks, his fingers digging into her knuckles. She was strong; strong enough that Mythal couldn’t fully push her back.

But the slide had pushed the Knight closer to his sword. He spotted it, the long weapon resting just within reach of his left hand. But that entire limb was useless. Thinking quickly and through unbelievable amounts of pain, he jerked himself up and stretched over his pinned arm to grab ahold of the handle. As he fell back, he slashed the weapon across the woman’s abdomen, opening a deep gash though not as deep as it should have been. Then he thrust the weapon up and into her abs, plunging the steel deep enough that only the handle stuck out from her flesh. The pain caused her to howl in agony, leaving an opening for Mythal to free one hand and throw a punch at her, knocking her back and finally away from the two of them.

The giantess growled between clenched teeth and glanced down at the sword stuck in her abdomen. She let out a small chuckle as she looked back up at the two of them. “Barely a scratch,” she remarked.

The young Knight pushed himself up just enough to extend his right arm towards the sword. The magical connection sparked as he reached for it, causing the weapon to glow within her stomach. She glanced down at it quickly and then up at him, realizing what he had done. “Detonate,” he said simply as he cast his spell. There was no line of fire this time; simply a magnificent explosion that swallowed up the woman’s top half. Any cry or scream she made was drowned out in the sound of the explosion, while Mythal covered his eyes from the sudden brightness of it. A moment later and all that was left was a fiery, smoke filled crater where she had once stood.

With the giantess clearly out of the fight, the Darkness King bent down to check on the Knight. “What happened? I thought you were helping with the civilians,” he remarked.

“Darknight and I were fighting off the dark wizards when… that bitch attacked him. I went to intervene. I felt it was better to keep her away from the townspeople for as long as I could,” the Knight said softly, gasping and wincing from pain. The acid had stopped its digestion of his arm but the damage was considerable. Mythal wasn’t a medic but he knew it wasn’t good.

“You did a good job,” the God Slayer said as he lifted the man up carefully. “I don’t know how safe this area is.”

“How’s the girl?” The Knight asked, turning slightly to try and get a look of her. Mythal had set Dela’s body down near the corner of the street, resting her gently against the side of a building.

Mythal shook his head. “She’s gone. But I wanted to take her away from bein’ another corpse among dark wizards.”

“Too many innocents dying,” the man said softly, the pain starting to overwhelm him. With his adrenaline starting to fade, the darkness of unconsciousness was quickly settling in. “What’s the plan next, sir?”

“You’ve done enough…” Mythal started, his brow furrowing. “You know, I don’t think I ever got yer name.”

The man scoffed, an odd mixture of a cough and a laugh. “Dakvid. Corporal Dakvid Bascom.”

The Darkness King patted him on the shoulder, even as he felt the man pass out. “Rest, Bascom.” He glanced over at Dela’s form and then Dakvid’s, shaking his head.

Now what?