They felt the impact of the explosion that lit up the night sky.
"It came from our cabin" Rogue pointed out, holding back a sob.
"Father!!" Rena exclaimed.
Lady Lara looked in the direction of the explosion.
"Gregory", she muttered to herself then turned to her daughters and knelt before them. She held their hands
"I need you two to be strong for me. Follow this path into the forest", she pointed in the direction they had to go.
"Find your brother and go to Lingard, where you will wait for your father and myself to arrive" she said to them.
"I don't want to go without you", Rena said, tears trickling from her eyes.
"Me too" Rogue agreed with her sister holding back tears of her own.
She held their faces
"I need you to have each other's backs. I love you girls so much", she said with a smile trying to hide her anguish at not being able to stay by their side.
"Now go on girls. I'll get your Father and we'll come find you", she said as she got to her feet. The girls moved towards the direction she had pointed and took one last look at their mother before fading into the darkness of the woods. Their mother took in a shaking breath before going back into the passage.
Rowen had been walking absent minded for a while. It was now pitch black outside with the starry sky as the only source of light. He had no idea when he had gotten so deep into the forest with no sign of any firewood. He thought of just turning back and telling his father that he did not find any firewood but he decided against it, not wanting to give his father any reason to avoid his questions. As he walked, he nearly tripped over something on the ground which brought him out of his thought. He looked down and saw a log of wood. How he had not noticed it sooner was beyond him. He held his unsheathed sword under his armpit, which wasn't the smartest thing. He then lifted the log of wood and surveyed his surroundings which was littered with dead tree branches. He started picking up the pieces of wood from the floor.
When he had picked enough, he turned back and headed towards his home.
"I wonder what we are having for supper", he muttered to himself.
BOOM!!!
The sound echoed in the night. He went still for a brief moment, before it sunk in that the explosion had come from the direction of his home. He let go of the firewood before racing in that direction with his sword in hand.
"Please! Be okay", he thought to himself as he ran.
There was a whole company of soldiers; 49 in all and bearing the lion crest, lined at a distance outside the Cromwell cabin, all armed for battle. Twenty-three heavy armored infantries stood in front with shields and spears, followed by twelve foot soldiers with swords and light armor. There were eight archers all armed with crossbows and six people in red hoods, one of them on top of a makeshift stand.
He took off his hood revealing a bald, bearded man with a face that looked like it had been stepped on by a horse and then dipped in shit. His left eye was bigger than the other almost like it was about to pop out, a nasty scar cut across the eye, his bottom lip was swollen, his cheek bones sticking out as though he was malnourished and most horrifying was the fact that he did not have a nose. He gazed at the smoke filled scene of destruction, a crooked smile across his face revealing charred teeth. The night was bright with not a single cloud in the sky. He tilted his head upwards basking in the moon light. He murmured something under his breath then he took in a deep breath.
"Finally, I have rid myself of the bastard who has caused trouble for my master", he said, widening his grin which only made him look uglier.
"To think that lord Salvador had me bring this many soldiers just to stop one man and his wife and all it took was two hell hounds bound with an explosive spell upon their death. War god or not he's still a man", he said, the self-satisfaction clear in his voice but his moment of glee was cut short when the smoke cleared and standing amidst the once Cromwell cabin was Sir Gregory, his clothes were in shimmers but somehow his under garment had survived the blast. He was a naked man in his forties and was very well built, soot smoldered his face, with nothing but his sword in one hand and his sheath in the other hand. It was a truly funny sight but no one was laughing because they were all surprised to see that there was not a single mark on his body.
"I-I-I-Impossible", the bearded man stuttered.
Sir Gregory coughed lightly, waving his left hand which wielded his sheath to clear the smoke from his face. He walked out of the rumble stretching his body, showing off his muscles.
"You lot have done it now. My wife's gonna kill me for getting the cabin destroyed so before she does, I'm going to have to repay you in kind", said Sir Gregory with clear killing intent. The soldiers staggered backwards, bumping into each other.
"Don't break formation you fools. We outnumber him and are better equipped", said the bearded man to his soldiers who were on the verge of turning tails and fleeing.
"OH?! So it was you Baltimore. I should have known, this plan has your stench all over it", said Sir Gregory, the look in his eyes cold as ice.
"How are you still alive?" asked Baltimore, "nothing could have survived that. What are you?" he asked again.
"I have my wife's magic to thank, something about my clothes taking all my damage though I've never had to rely on it until today, guess I'm a bit rusty" said Sir Gregory.
He pointed his sword to Baltimore,
"On my pride, you will all die here today", Sir Gregory promised. The soldiers once again started to stagger backwards almost tripping on each other.
"Are you not listening, scattering your formation is what he's after. He is but a man and we outnumber him, there's no way he can take on all of us", Baltimore assured his men who seemed to have gained back their morale.
Sir Gregory brought his sword back down,
"I need to know, how did you get this many soldiers to this cabin undetected?" he asked.
"Your wife isn't the only one who has tricks up her sleeve" Baltimore said with a crooked grin.
"Men!!! Today we place our names in history as we lay down our lives to put down the gruesome war god and his whore" he announced. There was an uproar as the soldiers let out their battle cries obviously pleased with the idea of becoming martyrs on a pointless crusade.
"FOOLS!!" Sir Gregory murmured. He squatted, his hands spread out with his sheath and sword extended, smoke still simmering from his body. He dashed.
In that instant the soldiers were still caught up in their uproar, by the time anyone realized, two of the heavy infantries fell down on the ground, their heads flung across the crowd and landed at the foot of the stand. Silence enveloped the troops, Baltimore's inflated eye did a crazy loop as he attempted to pinpoint the source of the aggression. Sir Gregory was no longer were he stood a moment ago. Sweat beaded down his smooth scalp as fear realized itself within him.
He had met Sir Gregory on various occasions whenever Sir Gregory had a falling out with his master Salvador Tiroy. He always knew he was strong but he didn't see him as someone worth fearing, after all there are things far was than a man who could handle a blade. He should know, seeing as he dabbles in the black arts as a necromancer, a wielder of darkness. Right now he was oblivious to all of that as his eyes finally fixed himself on the naked knight. Sir Gregory stood in the midst of the heavy infantries, blood dripping from his blade as the two bodies fell at his feet, blood gushing out of their now decapitated bodies. It was the Mana Arts. It is an art only the most elite warriors can use. It is known that all living things have mana within them but only a very small fraction of said living things have the talent to use magic; which is basically the art of inscribing words of power into one's mana in order to give it form and shape. But there are those who refused to accept the natural law and thus a new art was formed known as the Mana Art. It is an art of channeling one's mana and infusing it into their muscles, which in return increases their physical abilities. Legend has it that the art originated from a place far east known as the Lost Continent. Not lost in the sense that it cannot be found but in the sense that it is enveloped by a cloud of ash called the Ash Dome and no one knows the state of the continent. All those that attempted to venture inside the ash dome were never heard of again. It was said that there was an empire in that continent where everyone was capable of using the art but about 500 years ago it was sudden engulfed by the ash dome along with the entire continent. Though the secrets of the art found its way out of the continent before the great tragedy. It takes years of dedication to master it and even some couldn't do so in their entire lifetime. But before him stood a man in which no other mana arts user could compete with. Some even believe that he is of the lost continent, a man without equal in the way of the sword, a true sword saint, Sir Gregory.
The soldiers swept back distancing themselves from him, with their spears pointed at him. A third soldier screamed in agony as he fell to his knees, blood spilling out the side of his neck, which was half sliced. Sir Gregory looked at his blade as he scratched his head with his left hand.
"Hmmm!! I'm sure I meant to behead all three of you. I must be gotten really rusty after many years without proper combat", he said with a puzzled look. He twirled his sword in his hand as the screaming soldier finally dropped dead, choked by his own blood.
"So who's next" he said with a grin. Baltimore was forced out of his daze by the intimidating air that had consumed them.
"ATTACK!!" He roared. The infantry hesitated but then they charged at Sir Gregory. The first, jabbed his spear at Sir Gregory's face but he simply parried it with his sheath and used his blade to decapitate him. Two others attacked, he side stepped, evading their attack. Then he hacked away at one of the soldier's arm through a chink in his amour. The soldier screamed but was caught short as Sir Gregory beheaded him, kicking the lifeless body to the other soldier causing him to loose balance before going straight for his head. They kept coming but Sir Gregory displayed an otherworldly form of swordsmanship, using his sheath to block and parry when necessary and his sword to hack at their heads. He made their shields pointless and helped them realize that they didn't want to be martyrs after all. Before long he had cut his way through the crowd of heavy armored infantries leaving behind a pile of heavy armored carcasses.
Baltimore watched speechless, his swollen eye continued to twitch as though it wanted to pop out of its socket that instant. Rage filled him as he watched his men slaughtered by a man in his under garments. Sir Gregory pointed his blade at Baltimore and let out a SCOFF as if saying, Is that the best you got. Baltimore cursed under his breath and then in a heap of rage started chanting, the other hooded mages joined in his chant. A huge ball of fire burst into life atop Sir Gregory who tried to escape but was held down by roots that had wrapped around his legs.
"Not again" he complained before the ball of fire fell on top him.
"Hahaha!!" Baltimore crackled in delight. "Let's see you survive that without your whore of a wife's magic", he continued.
The smoke cleared and Sir Gregory stood there with what seemed like a transparent barrier around him.
"Do not forget, that whore is very much alive", said a voice from behind Sir Gregory. She came up from behind him. Lady Lara stood there ever so graceful. She was wearing a silver robe that glittered under the moon light.
"What about the children?" Sir Gregory asked.
"I sent the girls to meet up with their brother. They will be all right but more importantly", she faced him, staring him down with a dark smile on her face, "I see that you have managed to lose your dignity in the short time we've been apart", she finished in a hushed tone.
Sir Gregory felt a chill go down his spine. Never as he met a foe that inspired such fear in him, no wonder he fell for her.
Baltimore knew that instant that it was over. Those two are said to be undefeatable when their together. His face was bright red and really seemed like he was going to lose his shit.
"Men!!!" he thundered, a mixture of terror and rage filled his voice, "Do not back down for we have all pledged our swords and lives to the house of Tiroy".
By this time the remainder of his army were on the brink of turning their backs on the enemy and fleeing but they knew within themselves that any such attempt will mean their demise; if not at the hand of Baltimore then at the hands of their Lord, Salvador Tiroy. On hearing their Commander's struggled attempt to rally them up, they decided they rather meet a hero's death by laying down their lives in the service of their Lord. The foot soldiers charged with every vigour of their being, seeing only a glorious death awaiting them at the end.
"It seems our enemy is still quite energetic", said Lady Lara to her husband, a faint smile across her face.
"Why don't we give them the rest they so deeply desire", said Sir Gregory rather disappointed.
The first wave of arrows from the archers made their way past the charging foot soldiers, straight to Lady Lara, who let out a melodic humming that seemed to overshadow the cries of the soldiers. A bright green crest took form beneath her feet, a whirlwind formed around her and her husband. As the arrows reached them, they were simply siphoned into the whirlwind and flung right back with twice the force and intensity. The arrows plunged into the archers who didn't have any time to react. All 8 of them dropped dead instantly.
The still charging soldiers looked back, terror struck.
"Look alive men", the soldier leading the charge; who happened to be the same soldier that came to the Cromwell household as an envoy, shouted, "Today we inscribe our names in the annals of history", he finished. Their battle cry erupted even louder than before.
"I've warmed up quite a bit, guess it's my turn then", Sir Gregory sighed. He simply stepped out of the whirlwind which did him no harm and walked towards the charging soldiers. The first set of soldiers along with their leader met their end instantly. It was all a blur as Sir Gregory swept past them like they were nothing more than fodder. The following set didn't even have the time to change their minds and retreat as Sir Gregory entered their midst; using his sheath to bash the heads of two of the soldiers at the same time, helmets and all. He then used his sword to slice through the light armour of the remaining soldiers like it was nothing. The battle cries of the soldiers was quickly replaced by their screams as the war god decimated them. The last of the men fell to his knees; blood gushing from his severed head. Sir Gregory was literally bathed in the blood of his enemies.
Baltimore trembled with rage at the sight of the massacre.
"This was no battle", he thought, "They didn't even stand a chance. I have no choice but to use the last resort", he continued before he turned to one of the mages closet to the stand.
"Begin the awakening", he ordered. The mage seemed as though he was about to fall at the issue of that order.
"But master it's incomplete. If we wer--", the mage was caught short by his master's cackle. Baltimore pointed towards Sir Gregory, who had reunited with his wife and were now making their way towards him.
"It's clear to me now that only a god can beat them. The awakening was designed to take down Artaz greatest weapon, Sir Gregory", Baltimore said as though he had received a divine revelation. He looked at the mage, his eyes screamed out, Do it or die. The mage gulped before taking off his hood. The mage looked young and also had his hair shaved off. He walked out in front of the other mages. He took out a small dagger with his right hand, which was inscribed with ancient markings and stretched out his left hand. Then he started drawing runes on his now exposed left arm while chanting, with the other mages joining him in the chant. Baltimore's eyes were filled with glee like that of a child expecting a gift from his parents.
Lady Lara stopped instantly.
"That chant and dagger", she said in a hushed tone as she tried to put it together, "Baltimore!! What have you done?!" she said, worry in her voice.
"Gregory!! Stop him, it's a curse", she implored her husband, who without a word lunged himself at the mage.
"Do you think I'll let you", boomed Baltimore as he brought out what looked like a small crystal orb and lifted it up. Sir Gregory's strike was cut short as a barrier enveloped the mages, who were still chanting in perfect unison.
"Burn brightly", Lady Lara uttered as a balls of flame burst out in her hands. She hurled them at the protective barrier as Sir Gregory jumped aside. The balls merged growing bigger and bigger until it slammed into the barrier which caused the orb to crack but the barrier still held.
"Fairchilds and their chantless magic. I hate the lot of them", Baltimore muttered to himself.
"Be quick with the spell", he bellowed. The mages chanted faster.
Lady Lara kept throwing ball after ball at the barrier, introducing new cracks on the orb.
"Faster", Baltimore roared.
She raised her arms on top her head as a huge ball of fire manifested, then she gestured for the ball to take shape into an arrow, pointing at the mages.
"Pierce true", she said as she sent it flying. The impact decimated the orb and the barrier was down. The mages completed their chanting and the one that was inscribing the runes on his hand was also done. He wielded the dagger with his left hand and pointed it at his throat. Sir Gregory acted on instincts and tried to stop him but he was a little too late. The mage pierced his throat and fell to the ground lifeless.
A huge grin spread across Baltimore's face.
"You're too late", he said with obvious delight.
Silence filled the night sky as everywhere went still. All of Sir Gregory's senses were on alert. He could tell that something was off. He looked at his wife who looked just as tensed. That's when it happened. All the dead bodies started to sink into the earth until not a drop of blood was left on the ground.
"Baltimore!! You didn't--", Lady Lara started but was cut short by the devastating sight that was before them. High above where the mage had taken his life there was a literal crack in the sky which looked like an opening to an endless void.
"Yes!! I did Lady Lara. You were wrong about one thing. It was not just any curse, it was the curse. I have you and your husband to thank for offering up all those soldiers as sacrifices to summon an echo; which is a projection of a god. In this case, the undead god, Norn"
What seemed like a thick black goo poured out of the crack unto the spot in which the mage had died. Sir Gregory retreated back to his wife's side. As the goo touched the ground the field dried out as though life had been sucked out it. The ground hissed where the goo gathered and took form.
Lady Lara was trembling, her breathing was also heavy. Sir Gregory faced her and held her gaze before nodding his head as though they had come to a silent agreement. She took in a deep breath before regaining her composure.
By now, the black goo had fully taking human form. It looked male but its face was all wrong, the mouth spread out from ear to ear as though he was smiling. He did not have a nose and what was worse was that, he had four eyes, all pitch black, two on either side. What was supposed to be his hair was replaced by black spikes. He had dreadful claws but in all, he was no bigger than the average man. He seemed to open his mouth as though he was breathing the air, to show razor sharp rows of teeth and a forked tongue.
He started in a rasped voice that made you want to poke your ears with the sharpest thing you could find.
"Ahhh!! How I have missed the taste of death", he said in satisfaction. He faced the couple.
"Now what's for supper? I'm starving", he said as he cackled in delight, baring all his rows of teeth.