Mane
Even with all the hot sparkling lightning surrounding that long-dead king, Mane could feel the temperature of the air drop a few marks. A tough enemy, for true, especially for his fighting style.
The ancient warrior was able to stand again, even as the lightning cloaked him and crackled against his new flesh. He seemed bonded with it somehow.
He raised his meaty palms to inspect them, one after the other and a satisfied smirk flashed across his face, before his gaze once more returned to them.
With a bellow, he cast his arms outwards and smashed himself free of that lightning cage, sending the magic splashing away from him, fragmented and weak.
Two bolts of blue lightning made it as far as them, weaker than they ever were, but frighteningly quick. Mane did not sense any power in them anymore, but nevertheless, as they came at him, he dodged to the side, confident that none of the pupils were behind him.
But, he had not accounted for Ermos sneaking behind him. Mane had not heard his approach at all. He moved with an acute silence.
"Oh," came an emotionless statement of recognition, as the bolt of lightning hit Ermos head-on. The squirrel-faced man did not even have time to blink, before the lightning ran through his body, crackling and mighty, and right before Mane's eyes, Ermos vanished entirely.
"Wha-" Mane did not even get to register his shock, before another fragmented bolt of blue flashed past him and hit another member of their party. Little Bell did not get to state her surprise in words, for she could speak none, but it ran across her face, fighting against terror, before she too disappeared, leaving nothing behind, not even ash.
The last of the magic faded out, glancing harmlessly off the stone walls, sparing the rest of them. But what exactly were they spared from? How could such magic destroy a man so quickly? A man as strong as Ermos too.
"Master..?" Pash croaked, staring at the spot where Ermos had stood but a few seconds before.
"Bell…? Bell!" Cherry called after her friend, the tears already making their way to her eyes. "Sir Mane… Sir Mane… What happened?" She asked, begging for him to tell her that Bell was still alive.
But Mane had no words for her. He'd never seen anything like it. No matter how powerful the mage or warrior, there would always be a body left behind, or at least fragments of it, like meat or bone or ash… but this… was merely void.
"Damn it…" Mane cursed, clenching his fist. They had been so close to making it out. Even the sunlight could be seen by now. But there, at the very last hurdle, they had been caught off guard.
"One, two, three," the warrior king spoke, counting off his fingers, ensuring that they still worked. "I have arisen."
"There's something not right about this," Mane said through gritted teeth, "a person cannot just disappear. I'll get to the bottom of it… but now, I fear, we have a more pressing problem."
"That's right," Pash said, putting on a brave face for the sake of their party, "there isn't a single attack in the whole world that could kill my master in one hit. It's a puzzle – this place is full of them. I'll solve it, just like I did the last one, I promise you."
"That's right boy," Mane said, squeezing his shoulder, his heart surprised by the young swordsman's maturity. "There is an enemy in front of us, more dangerous than all our past foes combined. I promised to get you all out of here alive, and I intend to keep that promise! Stay behind me if you wish to live!"
"Bohoh…" The warrior king was looking at them with his arms folded across his massive chest. He was a terrifying specimen. A hairless body of dark skin, rippling with boulder-sized muscles bigger than any bodybuilder. Veins bulged everywhere, even through his thighs. He stood roughly the same height as Mane, but his muscles were likely double his size. "Strength, young warrior, you have it," he said as he pointed a thick sausage-like finger straight at Mane.
Mane gripped his sword tightly and raised it in reply. He heard his party make their way behind him as he had told them to.
"Chakrams are unpredictable," he heard Lucifan say, "we cannot rely on parrying them. Only dodging them will work. Don't try to play the hero, Fer, or you, Cherry – we must concentrate on keeping ourselves alive, so that Mane can fight at his full strength."
Lucifan was the last person Mane had expected to speak up with optimism and instruction, but his friends did not seem all that surprised. Both Cherry and Fer nodded their heads. Mane saw Lucifan shoot Pash a look, a look that helped Mane to understand his motivation – he'd named Pash his rival, and refused to be beaten by him.
"An insult lies in your silence," the king said, irritated, tossing one of his chakrams up into the air, before catching it ever-so casually, "a thousand victories I have. Ozymandias, I am, King of Kings, hear my name, ye mighty, and DESPAIR!"
"You're king of nothing," Mane said from behind his sword, playing with the psychology of his opponent as sweat dribbled down his spine. He'd heard of the name Ozymandias. Most had. That man was the sole reason that the Untamed Forest was never conquered. "The Bishamons are dead."
"A fool, you attempt to paint yourself. Does this specimen look dead? A grand plan, we had. We knew our victory lay in the future. A necromancer, in him we placed our trust, and alas, he thought he could bend me to his will through lightning, but a King does not kneel, even in death," Ozymandias stated, somehow managing to be both terribly relaxed and terribly threatening.
"Necromancer?" Mane repeated. "Hah, so it's true. A Teacher is behind all this. You lay in the bed of demons, oh great Ozymandias. You sold your soul for nothing. I'll return you to your coffin a defeated man."