Chereads / The three Kings: Behemoth / Chapter 12 - The City of Mages Arc: Dead Puppet

Chapter 12 - The City of Mages Arc: Dead Puppet

Gavin led his squadron through the pitch black woodlands into a clearing occupied by remnants of temple. A statue of a hooded messiah stands on the edge of the temple roof looking down at them, the only sound is the pounding of rain against the steel of their armour, but this wouldn't be the case for long as cultic whispers soon greet the squadron and green lights appear from the forest depths all around them. Gavin counts the hooded figures; they are vastly outnumbered. Maria's servant steps out of the temple, her long silver hair is plaited into a knot, her armour is made of a dull iron partially hidden by the veil of a dark cloak. An invisible force slams the gates of the temple shut behind her as her yellow eyes burn brighter peering down in a cold mocking stare at Gavin who steps forward defiantly.

"Under the authority of Letholdus, you and your coven have been charged with practicing dark magic, the sentence is annihilation. Save us the trouble and surrender so you may salvage what little humanity and honour you have left."  Orders the leader of the squadron, Maria's servant smiles deviously as the dark sky lights up with legions of lightning discharges that disappear as quickly as they appeared. A cold dread grips the souls of the squadron, all except the thorn knight his blue eyes remains unmoved radiating in the darkness.

"We practice what you call dark magic under a higher authority." She hisses with her black tongue as she descends the steps in a slow methodical pace. The air becomes stale; the sound of each step counts down to unavoidable carnage both parties have no choice but to participate in.

"There is nothing under the blue sky, greater than the High Knight" Gavin retorts.

"Look above you, we are under a black sky."  The skin on her face morphs into white reptilian scales, steamy black venomous ooze drips down her chin painting the steps she climbs down. Lightning hits the statue setting it alight in a green blaze, this signals the beginning of the final battle between the opposing sides, the cult and Gavin's squadron dash at each other in all out blood bath.  She leaps into the sky and falls towards Gavin with thunderous force, creating a shock wave of earth and rain water that thunders across the battlefield, fortunately Gavin reacts in time leaping out of the area of impact. As the two forces fight and kill each other all around them Gavin and his foe do not look away for even a single second, he points his blade at her, she retorts with a venomous hiss. "You stand at the gates of a new world, in this world knights and monsters have no place." Gavin places both hands on the hilt of his sword, as the rain beats down on him.

"You are mistaken, Monsters are not only non-humans, and knights are not only people with monster souls. As long as there are vile humans like your master, there will be monsters and as long as there's a man, woman or child willing to stand and fight against them there are knights".

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The support squadron stand in the centre of the god forsaken woodlands surrounded by the enigmatic figures that repeat the same incantation. Graham alone steps forward, muttering under his breath as he cracks the joints in his ancient hips.

"The fighting has already begun; I'll hold them off while you go provide support to Blackthorn's squad." The lad notices how large Graham's back is despite his frail frame, the old mage's back mirrored that of his own father Broin and that of his mentor. Alex fearlessly walks towards the old man and stands beside him. Graham peers at him from the corner of his eye for brief a second, cracks a half smile before redirecting his attention to the ominous green lights that surrounds them. Alex's sword becomes engulfed in flaming emerald magic. "The rest of you move out and find Blackthorn's unit the first chance you get."

"By all means run to your comrades, I guarantee they aren't doing so well." A voice speaks above the chorus of cultic chanting. A man dressed in black and red garments confidently steps out of the shadows, across his back, bound with rope is a black box with Druid markings his eyes reflect a homicidal madness within despite his calm exterior. "Hmm father, here we are!" he cries as he runs his fingers through his rough scraggly beard.

"Don't call me your father Atlas, as Dyrarsir is my witness you'll pay for what you have done." retorts Graham, the priest's face twists into a deranged expression of ecstasy and insanity, he claps his hands together and looks at the old man like an adult would look upon a child that was unable to comprehend the weight of his words.

"I have done nothing wrong!" he shouts as he claps his hands repeatedly "Like I told you once the ceremony is complete Bryan's sacrifice will usher in a new world."

"Oh Atlas, you let your pervasion eat away your morality, so much so, it hasn't registered that you snuffed out the light in your own son's eyes for a fantasy sold to you by a witch, this promise of a new world is nothing more than a shared dream of lost children." Atlas scoffs as he suddenly looks at the multiple emerald lights illuminating the dark forest, his face plastered with mixed expression of bewilderment, sadness and confusion. He abruptly stops moving and croaks in a desolate deep voice,

"We are all lost children, father. I have found the sons and daughters searching for the way." He answers calmly with a peaceful serenity.

"Your path of deceit and murder ends here." replies Graham as he widens his stance and claps his hands together, Atlas stretches his arm and points a single finger at the old man, with a loud cry all the lights rush towards the entrapped squadron in a blood lusted assault. The squadron is forced to engage the cult mages in a gory battle for survival in the black and wet forest. As the fighting between the two sides rages all around them Alex cuts down mage after mage but something grabs his attention, Graham remains frozen his eyes firmly on Atlas who doesn't look away from the old man for a single second.

They stare at each other long and hard waiting for someone to make a move ignoring the conflict all around them. In this he sees his opportunity; he dashes past Graham towards his target the white priest. Atlas sees the teenager rushing towards him and grins from ear to ear, a green cord manifest and entangles with his right arm, as he calmly walks towards the lad, Alex feels the intense bloodlust but the priest is not the only person feeling blood thirsty. He swings his blade with the intent of cleaving Atlas' head of his shoulders, but cords made of life essence burst out of the ground behind him restraining his arm, Atlas dashes forward and connects with a straight right that sends the lad tumbling back into a muddy puddle. Atlas leaps forward again with the intent of punching down and caving in Alex's skull but Graham's spike constructs and burst out of the ground between the priest and the lad. Atlas staggers backwards cautiously, the reality of how close he was to dying left a scowl on his face, if he had delayed even for a split second his father's spike would have been impaled him where he stood.

"Aren't you a little too old, to try your hand at being an adventurer father?"

"You can never be too old to put down a rabid dog like you boy!" spits Graham "Alex I am afraid only a knight of Gavin's calibre can beat Atlas in a one on one encounter, but if we work together we might pull it off." The lad pulls himself out of the puddle, his eyes burns with fierce determination and hint of hatred.

"Aye," he says as the green flames on his sword burn with greater intensity. Graham claps his hands together summoning a barrage of magical spikes towards Atlas. The Priest quickly unbounds the box on his back and uses it as shield to intercept the spikes. A massive shockwave thunders across the woodlands, as black and purple smoke sip out of the box,

"And for my next trick." Whispers Atlas as the smokescreen overtakes all the combatants in the forest. Alex feels a shiver run down his spine, he doesn't know what to expect when the smoke clears but he knows whatever it is it wouldn't bode well for his squadron. As the fog begins to settle the lad sees the box break apart revealing a silhouette that stood in front of Atlas.

"Even after his death you mock your own son?" whimpers Graham, Alex turns to see disdain on the old man's face. When he turns his attention back to the priest what he sees sickens him, he feels his stomach churning with disgust at the horrific sight of the decaying corpse of a child standing where the box was, his dried rotting skin decorated with dark magic symbols.

"Boy why do you look so surprised? If memory serves me right, Maria taught you foundation. I know she probably neglected to tell you about the other ways it can be applied. This application is my favourite, Black puppet foundation." As he says this, a tentacle made of essence bursts out of his back and attaches itself to the corpse's back. The corpse's eyes light emerald with magic, the bones in the corpse snap and pop as it begins to walk towards them. "There many theories of its origin but the leading rumour is the first sage accidentally created this spell when researching a way to bring the dead back to life, whatever the case it was discovered through this very spell the greater attachment the mage has to the object being enhanced by magic, the stronger the object." Graham's lips tremble as his dead grandson corpse draws closer in the rain. 

"Bryan. I am so sorry I couldn't protect you." he utters weakly as he falls to his knees.

"Old man, grab a hold of yourself," barks Alex as he dashes past him in wild charge towards the dead puppet, thrusting his sword forward in an attempt to impale the boy.

"I don't think so." Says Atlas as he makes a single gesture with his left hand, the corpse immediately opens its mouth to which a spear burning with life essence bursts out, the tips of their weapons meet and cancel each other   halting the teenager's charge.

"You rigged his body with multiple weapons that are under foundation by proxy." Alex says as he struggles to push back the spear.

"Guilty as charged." Retorts Atlas as a tentacle burst out of the ground behind Alex and lashes forward, but Alex manages to roll out of the way in the nick of time.  "I am afraid these games are now boring me, let me end this now. If I'm lucky I can get a rematch against Blackthorn." Atlas claps his hands together summoning multiple tentacles that lash about stabbing both friend and enemy. In that moment of utter chaos Alex leaps back to Graham's side paring and blocking all the tentacles that tried to kill him and the old man. He breathes heavily and drops to one knee when the assault abruptly stops, whilst he is next to the old man he hears him muttering under his frail shaky voice.

"What?" asks the lad as he looks around, there are very few survivors left on both sides.

"Are you a knight or a mage?" hisses a visibly annoyed Atlas.

"Right now I just want fucking answers from Maria," he pants.

"Bryan!" cries Graham "Grandpa is here, I will never leave you alone again" he rises to his feet and spreads his arm out towards the corpse puppet. Alex notes the man's eyes were unfocused, the corpse puppet spreads out its arms and sprints towards the old man.

"Yes, give your grandson a hug." Urges Atlas as a sinister grin, forms on his face.

"Old man, don't let it get any get any closer!"  Alex cries.

"Die you sentimental old fool!" shouts Atlas as he claps his hand together, Alex grabs his shoulder and tries to pull Graham back but it is too late just as the old man embraces the corpse a light pours out of its body, blinding all the spectators watching. The corpse detonates creating a massive fiery explosion that rocks the forest. As the smoke settles Atlas gives off maniacal laughs, all the survivors from both his squadron and the cult where dumbstruck with what just happened "No man stuck in the past will see the new world." He declares with a sad tone as he makes his way to the epicentre of the explosion, "Even If you survived, you are in no condition to fight back."  Before the smoke settled a burning blade bursts from his chest, he tilts his head slightly and sees the determined light in Alex's eyes, he tilts it further and sees the hole Graham had made with his first spike.

"How?" he mutters as blood splattered out of his mouth.

"When I fell to my knees I used the opportunity to dig a tunnel using my constructs," Graham says as the smoke clears revealing a protective magic bubble around him, "I may be old but my constructs are still much faster than yours boy, hiding the hole with reflections, blocking that telegraphed explosion and using the cover of smoke to hide the fact Gavin's apprentice was using the tunnel to stab you in the back was elementary, however…" Graham walks to his son and places his hand on his head. "The tears I shed for my grandson where real. I would tell you to apologize to him on the other side, but I fucking hope monsters like you cannot go to the same place as him."

"That's okay father, I wasn't going to apologize even if you cried and begged. I regret nothing."

"Very well." A green spike constructs erupts from Atlas's skull bursting his head in a bloody explosion. The priest's followers drop their weapons in surrender as the survivors of Graham's squadron cheered in unison. Alex looks up at the sky, the rain has ceased he looks down at the old man and sees a single tear drop roll down the old man's face as he caresses the body of Atlas.

"We have to go support the Blackthorn squad," says the lad. The old man gives a weak half smile without turning to look at him.

"You go ahead; the squadron won't be any help in the state they are in." Alex looks around at the wounded knights and mages celebrating despite being soaked in blood and suffering life threatening injuries, "We'll follow you when we are good and ready, with your help there is no way they will lose." Alex bows politely then runs into the forest. Graham smiles at his son's body, his face twisting with anguish. "Foolish child." He sobs before breaking into tears.

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A giant tree stands outside the temple, on its outstretched branches where the corpses of the cult followers, with the body of Maria's servant impaled at the summit. Gavin stands at the base of the tree, his armour soaked from head to toe in blood that didn't belong to him his subordinates lay scattered all over the ruins injured and too weak to move. The temple gates swing open, and from within its dark depths he hears the crying of an infant, he begins to walk towards the gate when a knight grabs his ankle, "My lord, don't go in alone." He smiles and removed his helm, "I am never alone, besides in the unlikely case I'm outmatched I have confidence my apprentice will save me." The unnamed knight relinquishes his grip and watches Blackthorn scale the temple steps alone.