The Wielder of Death Magic

The supposed expression of horror dropped to a smug smile, by the tiniest window, she planted the weapon inches from Igna’s foot and sprung. He turned and leaped, Orenmir drew to make first contact with her handle, the force behind the swing had her flung a few meters, the eyebrows crinkled. Needle to the handle, flashes of light rained onto Igna – wings sprouted by force to dodge the volley. Below, the unfortunate target mushed into dust. Her journey cut short on reaching suspended rail, her knees buckled against the side then pounced. A wireframe of crimson manifested inches shy from her face, an explosion rattled the seemingly empty sky. Smoke lingered and droplets scattered. Both kept their cards hidden, soon, the saint fell onto the cracked street, leaving a cloud of black in the air. Her shoulder was slit open, the sleeve didn’t survive the attack, red stood against her skin. She bit onto the nail and pulled, solid yellow-colored shards appeared above his head, a wink toggled the torrent.

A magical barrier summoned to block most of the wailing, he threw few glances at the saint, who nonchalantly stitched herself with a crudely shaped needle and fabric from the torn clothes. The aura around the weapon shifted dearly – Orenmir shook within its sheath, they seemed to communicate, there was an unseen yet felt echo coming from each. The shockwaves met in the middle, the same spot where Igna landed, the rubble shook vehemently from the implosion of intent. Relatively unharmed, he dropped into the lightning strike pose, undid the first few limiters he placed upon gaining knowledge to being Alfred, the markings on the body, where once had been curses, and the obsession on collection in the prior life was a projection of the forgotten self wanting to make itself heard. He chanted a few unintelligible words, the symbols burnt to ash revealing his pale skin. The density increased at her side, they locked eyes and ran at each other, she jumped with intent to take his head once again, he kept to the ground with hand on the handle – the sad reality blasted in her smug expression, the gut it took to jump, leaving herself exposed, was a risk she took by assessing his abilities, a card he kept closely hidden. The beat in the movement changed, the moment her feet lifted, he dashed – the shadow of death’s skull lingered, the blade left its chambers, ‘-danger.’

“COME FORTH, VENGEANCE!” a body double leaped from Igna, he made contact by slicing her dominant arm, if not for Vengeance, the light of Kenria, an outline of the cross used by Lucifer’s first disciple, which dropped moment from the final strike, would have destroyed Igna. Instead, he gave on killing the saint whilst Vengeance harshly took the brunt of the attack.

The bloodstained blade returned in its guard, Vengeance returned into his shadow, a cross-like entity dug itself into the harsh ground. Jusa dropped to her knees before the object, tears whelmed her visage – a group of figures dressed in gold and white dropped to shield the saint. A light-haired man in the shade of gray, emotionlessly drifted to a graceful landing, he stood with two swords and an empty expression, “-Jusa, are you hurt?”

“Lord Paladin, I welcome thee to Alphia.”

“Not great a welcome,” he said scanning the cityscape, “-and who might you be?”

.....

“The name’s how about you learn some manners?”

“Pardon,” he bowed eloquently, “-my name’s Othezel D’el Kenria.”

“Igna Haggard. The cross’s yet to manifest fully,” he commented, “-pray tell,” he locked onto the other figures who scattered strategically, “-why are you here?”

“To pay a visit to our future home,” he smiled, “-what about you, King of Hidros, nephew to Staxius Haggard, enemy of our god.”

“Such misplaced animosity,” he said, “-Paladin,” he readied his stance to battle, “-have thee come to fight?” *Souls bound to my soul, companions, servants, those who I’ve deemed worthy to stand at my side, heed me, heed mine voice, heed mine call. I, Igna Haggard, Heir to Death, call upon thy strength, arise Box of Soul – Release.* ghouls, demons, unseen creatures, souls he killed and absorbed – rose from a pit of miasma. His body phased and split, Vengeance materialized in his complete version, “-if thee choose the way of war, I’ll have no option than to fight. I’m bound to protect the land,” *Blood-Arts: Bloody Mary,* the fallen heroes’ bodies drained into a line of crystal red, the bloodied halo, mark of nightwalker of rank Duke and higher, thickened in substance.

“Let me enlighten thee, foolish king,” he grabbed both swords, “-it doesn’t matter if I’ve come to battle, you’re weak. Long as the cross of Kenria blesses the land – the domain of Lucifer extends to grant his servant immortality.” The scattered entities dawned their masks of bloodlust, Jusa’s fallen arm reattached and healed, ‘-tough battle ahead,’ he grabbed onto Orenmir and gave on the lightning strike since it was another’s technique. Rather, he stood with the blade before him, the tip shy below eye-level, the summoned army scattered, Vengeance ran and took Jusa in battle. Strike after strike, a battle blew in the city. Flashes, the pace lowered, the paladin’s strikes were fierce and precise, on the glabella laid the symbol of Lucifer, a word of power that increased the paladin’s combat prowess. Igna took damage, the strikes from the heroic swords left burn marks.

Blood halo took on a sentient form by traveling around Igna’s body. Aside from the paladin, a sniper camped at an unknown area fired bullets of which the halo instantly blocked, each stop chipped at the shield, there was only so much it could take.

To the side, Vengeance’s hatred manifested, by speaking – physical properties on the field would alter, “-break thy legs,” and she’d fall with the order, “-kill yourself,” the more he yelled, the weaker grew Jusa – yet, the light of Kenria amplified, the unnamed and unfaced entities ran circles around the undead army.

*Woosh,* ‘-I’m on the defensive again?’ he puffed, the onslaught from the Paladin doubled in intensity, ‘-he’s feeding on the anguish, the more it drags, the stronger becomes the cross. Hold on,’ time stopped, ‘-he’s trying to channel fear into power. The shelter’s close, I’m sure the sniper’s there right now,’ a downward strike rudely awakened the trail of thought, ‘-they have nothing to lose. Ships were spotted westward, I need to win, can’t afford to lose,’ *slash,* both swords impaled his heart and stomach, “-you’re gone,” he said, “-the king of Hidros not so strong. The princess cried about how you’d take revenge and end my life, seems to me she was wrong – the same way as I mushed her head onto the cold ground, I kicked relentlessly to no avail, she kept talking... should have seen the look on her face. I could never,” he licked his lips, “-never imagine such a boring battle.”

*Incoming transmission,* read across the bloodied lens, “-master, éclair reporting. You’ve bought enough time, we have permission to nuke the motherships. Payment has been wired, we need thy confirmation.”

*Cough,*

“-Still alive?” he harshly grabbed Igna’s bloodied hair, “-why don’t you yield?”

“Are you daft,” he smiled, “-PERMISSION GRANTED!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Foolish child,” he grabbed and shattered the blades, the open wound remained, “-is this how you pay respect to me?” he took off the glasses, the energy exploded in waves, forcing the paladin to retreat, Igna marched without care to the injuries, “-Vengeance, end her life,” last images were countless spikes impaling Jusa, he took one look at cross, hefty invisible chains tied it to the heavens, “-by my name,” he held his palm to the sky, “-I order the veil of untruth to open,” the blueish ceiling parted to show two white-robed angels pulling onto the cross, “-there you are,” he smirked, “-accursed beings,” the palm tightened, “-be dragged onto the mortal plain,” he pulled, “-lament thy fate,” they dropped from the heavenly station, two lovely maidens with pure skin and spotless visages, “-May this be forever seared in the annals of history,” he marched, the paladin fell under the immense pressure of angelic beings dragged into their world, “-time may have changed, yet, I haven’t forgotten,” the innocent maidens knelt with hands interlocked, pure fear and terror drained the idyllic looks, he passed them and touched the cross, “-die,” it shattered into a rain of golden dust.

“Who are you?” inquired one, the ground shook.

“My name and identity are not important,” he turned and glared, “-angels under oath to Lucifer, thy days are numbered,” he grabbed each and held them by their throat, “-once a line is crossed,” he pressed, “-nothing can be done,” a black pigment filled the pure complexion, “-may this be a lesson,” he tore into their neck and drank. Loud shockwaves crashed against the western shore, the bombardment squad, stationed at an abandoned island, bombarded the incoming fleet with countless nukes of potency similar and greater to what was used at Whuotan.

Shells of innocent beings laid at his feet, the wound remained open – the immovable aura broke, an order to retreat crossed every servant of the church. The horrid sight scarred those who battled said night, ‘-I devoured them, it’s true,’ he dropped onto his knees, ‘-I have the power to pull angels from their heavenly plane,’ raincloud covered the area, ‘-they did a number on me,’ he coughed, with the remainder of the strength, he erased the scars of battle the city sustained. Vengeance disappeared, and so did the summoned army, what remained was Igna laying face up to a heavy shower, ‘-it’s over,’ he exhaled, ‘-we won.’

“BOSS, we regained the signal,” bellowed within the ice-cream van, “-the battle is over.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” the coordinator pointed at a report, “-Benith said the battle is over, the King of Hidros intervened and won.” The good news reached their destination in haste, before long, the destruction of the Wracia Empire’s impregnable sea-fortress sent news across the world.

Igna was taken to a hospice at the heart of Melmark, the news glorified his action, many eyewitness accounts recounted the bravery he showed – the day of the vote arrived, results were highly regarded by the people, more than 75% voted in favor of the alliance.

23rd of January arrived, ‘-a white ceiling,’ consciousness returned, ‘-Alfred took over my consciousness and devoured the angels, I relished every moment of it,’ the eyes opened to an onslaught of information which forced it closed, ‘-the sensitivity’s increased. I can see more of the mana waves and their effect on reality, more importantly, I can sense the presence of angelic beings. Assimilating their life essence must have awakened the powers I gained during Alfred’s lifetime.’

“Don’t go back to sleep,” fired a sharp voice, “-wake up, Igna.”

“Big sister?”

“Yes, it’s me,” her smooth long fingers grabbed onto his hand, “-here,” a cold frame dropped inside the palm, “-wear them.”

“Glasses?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” he sat upright and dawned the barriers, “-finally,” he blinked, “-I see without a headache. Why are you here?”

“Visit, you know,” she stared at her belly, “-it’s a checkup.”

“I’m glad,” he moved to the edge of the bed, “-I appreciate the visit.”