The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 685: True Demonlord [16]

Wings sprouted in an angelic manner, Igna swore into the skies with Loftha at the back. Her speed matched his, a tell-tell sign of the ability kept deep into her emotionless face. Side by side through the clouds, he handed over an earpiece, to which she accepted after a brief self-questioning session. “Why give me this?” she inquired.

“To have access to my personal butler.” In response, éclair said, “-hi.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s awesome?” they flew northwest to the imperial estate, a newer addition in celebration of the marriage, “-Princess, tell me the situation, what’s happened?”

“I don’t know either. I woke up in complete sweat and the pressure of a strong being. My brothers ran to the beach, accompanied by the imperial guards, to fight whoever had trespassed. I saw snippets of the battle, a spell blindsided me into crashing a few hundred meters away. A remote stationed guard told me to get help. Big sister Eira and my brother were off, therefore, I had to reach for immediate help. Odgawoan’s closer and the empress told me to seek out her cousin if ever things are bad.”

“That woman,” he cringed, “-if a hero of the AHA was defeated easily, I doubt the others to be any worth. Come on, let’s speed up,” the wings flapped violently, a circular boom had the missile of a figure fire across the land.

“PRINCE!” cried a guard, “-please, allow us to take the vanguard,” the humble soldiers stood face to face with an army of an enlightened being, at the helm, a knight without a head.

.....

“Land of the unfortunate, is this where thy leader resides?” inquired the headless knight.

“Begone you!” yelled a fighter, “-this is a blatant act of terrorism. Thee shalt not harm the imperial family, us guards will lay down our lives for their safety.”

“Strong warriors,” said others with winged helmets, “-I respect your bravado. As a fellow warrior, I’d like to request a duel against thy strongest men. Needless death is a thing of shame, a fighter must be wise as he must be strong.”

“Please, do no go against the wishes of our lady,” said the knight.

“No, Lord Dulam, have you not seen the spark in their eyes. Let’s honor their will and give a respectable death. What says you, my companions,” a sword raised to harness the power of the remaining fighters, cheers and applause had the beach in terror. A loud cliff stood overlooking an idyllic beach, the imperial estate was a flight in community, here, access was either boat or planes, the sun, sand, sea was unperturbed, the blueish-green sea radiated its splendor.

“I’ll fight,” said Xyra, “-Hyde, take mother to safety, we can’t allow her vacation to be ruined.”

“Brother Xyra, you know full well I’m stronger in combat,” returned a stern argument.

“Don’t look at me in pity, dearest young brother, I’m the eldest, the right to protect my family is sibling is mine, and mine only, none will steal said authority.”

“The lovely bond of family,” said a wing-helmed fighter, “-I’ll take thee with my strongest sword,” it landed, a beautifully combed winged wolf neighed menacingly, stripes of blue went across the body, the straddled rider hopped to a soft landing. Each step taken influenced the other tranquil lagoon, the waves intensified.

“Take the battle this time,” said the knight, “-I’m sure the lady will understand.”

“My gratitude, Lord Dulam,” the fiercely outlined stare locked onto the prince, he gulped. “-We shall decide the battle in a contest of swordsmanship.”

“Brother...” he turned and made for the estate, ‘-I’ll protect mother, don’t worry.’

“How pathetic,” said the fighter, “-turning his back on the enemy,” the sword rose, “-state your name.”

“Xyra Sultria, 3rd Prince of Alphia.”

“Glad to hear, my name’s Bryva.”

Swords drew on each side, Xyra stood at a height advantage; the longsword had more reach than the opposition for they bore a short-sword and a circular shield.

“AHHHH,” the battle commenced, Xyra dove straight in for a critical mistake, he used a downward strike, Brvya rose the left arm, parried the attack, and quickly transitioned for a mortal strike. *Clang,* the prince’s reinforcement ability subconsciously activated and blocked her strike. Now out of balance, he regained his footing and blocked the incoming upward diagonal strike, the swords clashed a few times more, the resultant force loosened his grip, the shock, akin to hammer on an anvil, forced a grit. Bryva took notice and ducked, the speed made it easy to slide close where his weapon was rendered useless – out speed and outmatched, he could but stand and watch, her final strike, a twirl into a backward horizontal slash won the battle. ‘-there, I hit bone, he’s beheaded, what a boring fight.’

*Clap, clap, clap,* a strange figure landed, “-excellent battle.”

“Who might you be?” she shook off the blood and stared.

“Igna Haggard,” he walked to stand before the prince, “-good fight, I saw the grit and dedication. Leave the rest to me.”

“He’s still alive?”

“Yes,” said Igna, “-what thee slashed was a barrier I conjured. A Dullahan as a knight, and a platoon of Valkyries, the host who choose the winner and loser of a battle.”

“You know much about us,” the remainder of the flying horses landed, each bore light armor, emphasis was on mobility.

“You’ve interjected in a battle to the death,” said Bryva, “-look at the man, he’s ashamed to be alive, true fighters must honor death.”

“Are you insane?” returned Igna, “-a battle to the death, such outdated thoughts. My lady, the land of Alphia is a place of modernity, the opponent was a mere child, he knows not to fight, much less how to hold a sword.”

“How insolent!” cried the others, “-must we teach you a lesson?”

“Quiet,” voiced Dulam, “-tell me, who are you?”

“I’ve stated my name,” he walked closer, “-Igna Haggard.”

“No, I mean thy title. The fierceness in those seeking eyes is a telling sign of a veteran. You’re a soldier, aren’t you?”

“If we are to speak of real title,” he struck a strong pose, “-Watcher of the Shadow Realm, Heir to death, inheritor to Origin and the Godslayer’s will. I doubt the words will mean much – fighters speak with their sword. Lord Dulam, tell me first, why the attack?”

“Out of respect for the various titles, I shall answer. We’ve come on behalf of our lady, she said to attack the land to the east.”

“Will you not back down without a fight?”

“Smug from the man who stopped the battle,” returned Brvya, “-hear me, Igna, I negotiate with the sword as our medium, tell me, are you worth my time?”

“Fair,” an exhale sent shivers across the spectators, “-Prince Xyra, Princess Loftha, take guards to a safer area. I’ll fight the invasion on my own,” he smirked.

“Surely you jest,” laughed the black-knight, “-no way will a mere human win against a Valkyrie.”

“True,” the bicolored pupils reddened, *Blood-Arts: Enlian,* brown hair faded into pure white alongside spots of red, the canines sharpened, the expression dropped to a stoic barrier.

*Weapons stored in the realm beyond reality, heed my call – Weapon Conjuration: Orenmir.*

“Lord Dulam, my fellow comrades, allow me to vanquish this foul-mouthed man. He mustn’t be allowed the honor of a heroic death; I’ll guide him to the afterlife,” she rose her sword and shield.

A dark mist summoned around his waist, the blank expression told nothing of what was to happen, the sheathed of a cursed weapon manifested. The sea rumbled harsher, guards and spectators alike relocated to the estate for a clearer view of the sea.

“Tell me,” the voice deepened, “-does the battle have any restriction?”

“No,” she returned, “-fight with all thee have,” energy around her sword and shield created sparks, *By the blessed name of Odin, I call forth the power granted by birth and heritage so I may strike down my enemy,* she slammed her shield with the sword, the sound echoed in an enigmatic manner, the air grew harsher to breathe. A mystic symbol of a hammer faded above the Valkyrie, Igna returned her aura with one of his own.

A deadlock of killing intent was summoned from the duo, they unwillingly began to walk in circles, Igna had his palms on the handle, Bryva held her shield closer than before. Between veteran fighters, the prelude before the clash was more important than the actual battle. It usually came to a single stroke.

‘The moment I mildly move the handle, she counters with a spotless defense. Good eyesight, this will be short, I can’t afford to waste time on her. The real threat is that Dullahan. I’ve spent enough time on the battlefield, come on,’ he dashed for an upward stroke, she repaid his kindness and parried, ‘-always the same,’ she opened her sword arm and aimed for his. It began the same as the previous battle, a path to strike her opponent materialized, ‘-I’ve won,’ her strike, a fake for his arm, flashed for the neck.

‘Good try,’ he backflipped, kicked her firm grip, and left her distraught. the counter came so suddenly it took a second too late to realize, the pain in her hand was from broken bones, her body instinctively reacted to the next attack, the sword connected to the side of her neck, the screams of the dead wallowed her judgment. ‘-Turn and counter,’ her sword rose to no avail, her knees buckled, the cold tip of a sword rested on the back of her neck. “Kill me,” she said.

“Not today I’m afraid,” the sword sheathed, “-I had my fill of death earlier.”

“Bryva was defeated?”

“Lord Dulam, as a judge to our bout, what’s the judgment, should I slay the Valkyrie?”

“You know of their lowered numbers,” the heavy armor clambered to the middle, “-was it mercy?”

“No, it was respect for a talented warrior.”

“-on what basis?” she didn’t care for the mercy, “-don’t screw with us!”

‘Guess it’s time to let loose,’ *Death Element: Unleash Aura,* arrows and spears forced a retreat, the warriors rejoined under the same banner, they straddled their steed and ventured into the skies.

‘Here they come,’ the attacks came in waves, a stream of horses forced for many desperate counters, out of which, many made contact. The land trembled by the Dulam, he rode in, impaled Igna, and threw the body across the beach. There, the Valkyries continued the onslaught, “-fool, who thought to celebrate a single win must be killed.” Rage from Bryva’s fall fueled the overall morale and strength, ancient symbols drew on limbs and cheeks.

‘Holy hell,’ he coughed, ‘-I knew it, my body’s rusty. The regeneration’s keeping pace. Dulam’s a level above the casual; they have magical immunity. Must be the strange symbol.’

“Where’s the bravado at now?” laughed Bryva, “-you’re not a warrior, damned insolent brat.”

‘I’ve bought enough time. The barrier’s ready; letting loose, fighting with all my abilities – this calls for one, and one alone. Forget the current persona as Igna Haggard, embrace the experience I cultivated as Staxius Haggard, become the true harbinger of death, go all out,’ a pulse of dark energy hampered the incessant attack, *Blood-Arts: Crimson Threads,* he stared the opposition, *snap,* four of the ten attackers ate the sand. Heads of the beheaded horses hovered to his growing aura, *Blood-Arts: Bloody Mary.*

“HALT YOUR ATTACK,” exclaimed Dulam.

*Sword kept untouched for the ages, the wrath of the queen, the ire of the fallen, and the despair of my enemies, the time has come to reawakened, materialize in thy purest form, Blood-Arts: Orenmir, Blood Blade of the Queen,*

“I’ll fight in thy stead,” he rushed in, “-I won’t allow for thy win.” *Dullahan’s Reach: Oykua,* the spear swapped into a lance of great proportions, “-rest and never wake!” the horse galloped.

“Do you know who I am?” he smirked and vanished, countless threads disabled the winged horses, “-let’s see you try,” he stared the attacker, *Lightning Strike: Death Element Variant.

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