Black stood before the ruins of the stronghold, his smirk growing as Vordia's army slowly marched toward him. Dust swirled around his feet, the dry wind carrying the weight of an inevitable battle. The soldiers clutched their stone swords tightly, their faces set with determination. A few at the front carried steel weapons, clearly the strongest among them. But Black didn't care.
His eyes landed on Vordia as the towering warlord stepped into view. The man was massive, wearing a fur coat that billowed behind him and a sash tied around his waist. In his hand, he held a huge steel spear. Vordia's presence would have been intimidating to most, but Black only grinned wider. If he wanted to, he could kill every one of them with just a snap of his fingers. But he couldn't afford that—not yet, not with Flonda watching considering he wasn't sure if killing her wouldn't jerk Voldrak's consciousness awake.
His hand stretched out, and one of his soldiers quickly placed a sword in his grasp. Simple, but it would do for the show he had planned. "Attack!" Black shouted, his voice booming across the battlefield.
His soldiers surged forward, clashing with Vordia's army in an explosion of violence. Steel met stone, and the battlefield quickly descended into chaos. The air was filled with the sounds of clanging swords, shouts of pain, and the thuds of bodies hitting the ground.
Black stood back for a moment, watching with mild interest. The battle was brutal, blood spilling freely as men and women fought for their lives. He caught sight of Flonda in the distance, cutting through the enemy with precision. Her eyes flicked toward him in turn, yet all he saw in the depths of her eyes was concern.
'Ohhh! to be young and in love!' surprised by how amused he was by it all.
Good. Keep watching, I promise to give you a good show.
With a smirk, Black finally jumped into the fray. He cut down the first man with ease, slicing through him like butter. His sword moved swiftly, his blows calculated and deadly. But he held back, slowing himself down on purpose, pretending to struggle as he fought. He wanted to seem like Voldrak—strong, but not invincible as he made his red energy appear black.
As he fought, he caught a glimpse of Vordia making his way through the battlefield, his spear carving a bloody path through Black's soldiers. The giant warlord was coming for him, just as he had hoped.
"Voldrak!" Vordia bellowed, his voice like thunder as he charged, his steel spear aimed directly at Black's chest.
Black moved just in time, rolling to the side as the spear slammed into the ground where he had been standing. Dirt and rock flew into the air, but Black was already back on his feet, grinning at the warlord. "You'll have to do better than that," he taunted.
Vordia roared and charged again, swinging his spear in a deadly arc. Black met the attack head-on, their weapons clashing with a loud, metallic ring. The force of it sent vibrations up Black's arms, but he stood firm, letting Vordia push him back. He pretended to struggle, feigning weakness as Vordia bore down on him.
Shock too when he suddenly saw beasts rush forward towards him, too swiftly to have been out of their own free will.
'Honestly? Beasts love me!' he chuckled to himself easily wrenching their controls out of Vordia's hands as easy like taking something sweet from a child.
Black pretended that the effort drained him and Vordia looked angry enough to burst into tears,at least in Black's eyes.
Behind them, the battle raged on. Flonda fought fiercely, her blade cutting down enemy after enemy. But even as she fought, her eyes kept darting toward Black, suspicion clear in her gaze. She was watching his every move.
Vordia pressed his attack, swinging his spear with all his might. Black dodged each blow, playing his part, letting the spear graze his side, pretending to wince in pain. He staggered back, clutching his side, and allowed Vordia to think he was gaining the upper hand.
"Why won't you die?!" Vordia growled, thrusting his spear at Black again.
Black barely dodged, his sword coming up to parry the next strike. Their weapons locked, and Vordia grunted as he tried to overpower him. But Black was just toying with him. His strength hadn't even been tested.
With a grin, Black used a pulse of hidden energy to push Vordia back, sending the warlord stumbling. Vordia snarled in frustration and charged again, but Black had grown tired of the game. What fun he previously found in the allure of fighting the mortal had disappeared and It was time to end it.
As Vordia swung his spear, Black ducked low, dodging the attack with ease. In one swift motion, he brought his sword up, slicing through the air, and severed Vordia's head clean off. The warlord's body stood for a moment, as if it didn't realize it was dead, before collapsing to the ground in a heap.
The battlefield went quiet. Vordia's soldiers froze in shock, their leader now nothing more than a lifeless corpse. Panic set in, and many of them turned to flee, dropping their weapons as they ran.
Black could have let them go. But where was the fun in that?
"Losers don't get to leave," he whispered, raising his hand. Dark energy surged from him, and the fleeing soldiers suddenly stopped in their tracks. Frozen in place, they could only stand there, helpless and terrified and unable to move a single muscle.
Satisfied to see the fear wafting off them, Black turned his back on them, leaving them frozen where they stood. He was done with them. The thrill of the fight was gone, replaced by a different hunger.
As he turned, he saw Flonda. She was still standing, her body bloodied but unbroken. Sweat and dirt streaked her face, but she was alive. Her sharp eyes remained fixed on him, more on the torn part of his clothes, where he had been slashed.
"I'm healed. It was a small wound," he said as he approached her with a mostly blank look on his face, confident that it was the same one Voldrak was bound to have in the same situation having paid enough attention to know.
" Heal the ones that can be healed and bury the rest. We don't want to attract more beasts. Also gather people to begin building a new camp. Rumena and Hema would help clear the rumble. It can be used as make-shift wall," He began to slowly explain, heaping as much work on her as he could.
"When you're done, have someone to draw a bath for me. I'm going to rest in the forest for a while, I need sometime alone. I'll know when you're done, so you don't need to call anyone," he said, his voice low and commanding.
He walked past her, barely able to hide the growing hunger inside him. The battle had been entertaining for a while, but now his mind had shifted. His skin itched for something more—something more intimate, more pleasurable.
He continued walking, the thrill of victory fading as he looked forward to what came next. There was still blood to spill, still pleasure to be had. The day was far from over.
And Aros Black was far from satisfied, sending a pulse of power out even as his eyes roved seeing wide and far. One after the other, women soldiers began to disappear from where they had been standing.