Chereads / Wizards' Chronicles / Chapter 11 - Fragments

Chapter 11 - Fragments

The smoke clears and the tall cloaked figure is standing before me.

I wiped the blood coming out of my mouth and smile.

"I feel like I know you from somewhere."

The cloaked figure didn't bother to talk, it just dash towards me with its fist ready.

I sidestepped just enough to dodge its fist, a magic circle appears from my hand and frost exploded from it.

The explosion send us both flying across the room, I quickly stand up, feeling the pain from my side.

"You're weaker than him."

I smiled as I watch the cloaked figure stands up.

The cloaked figure stood slowly, brushing off the frost that clung to its robes like dust.

The figure said nothing, only raised its hand, and the room darkened instantly, shadows swirling around us like a storm.

Tendrils of dark energy formed in the air, twisting and writhing like serpents. I could feel the pressure of its magic closing in, heavy and suffocating.

A wave of frost surged from my palm, spreading across the floor in a sweeping arc, freezing everything in its path.

The cloaked figure moved faster this time, lunging straight at me, fists cloaked in shadow.

I barely had time to react before its fist collided with my hastily summoned ice shield, shattering it into shards.

I gritted my teeth and jumped back, summoning another magic circle at my feet.

Ice erupted from the ground in jagged spikes, forcing the figure to dodge as it closed the distance.

But it was relentless.

It lunged again, this time swinging both arms at me with raw, unrestrained power. I threw up another wall of ice, but the force of the blow sent me skidding backward, my feet slipping on the frost beneath me.

The figure's strength was unreal. It was as if the shadows themselves were fueling it, amplifying every attack.

"Alright, let's try the old passion way."

The cloaked figure darted toward me again, its movements fluid and precise.

I ducked under its sweeping punch, feeling the force of the air rush past my head as the fist missed by inches.

Before it could recover, I launched a counterattack, driving my fist into its ribs with all my strength.

The impact sent a jolt up my arm, but the figure barely flinched. Its body was unnaturally solid, absorbing the blow like stone.

Before I could pull back, the figure retaliated with a quick jab to my stomach.

The punch knocked the wind out of me, and I staggered backward, gasping for air.

The figure pressed forward, its movements relentless and unyielding.

It swung at me again, but I blocked the punch with my forearm, feeling the sharp sting of impact shoot through my bones.

I countered with an uppercut, landing a clean hit to its jaw.

This time, the figure stumbled, but only for a split second.

Before I could capitalize on the opening, it spun around with surprising agility, driving a knee into my side.

Pain shot through my ribs, but I gritted my teeth, grabbing its leg before it could pull back.

With a burst of strength, I twisted my body and hurled the figure to the ground. The impact echoed through the room as dust and frost scattered around us.

The moment the cloaked figure hit the ground, it rolled and sprang back up with cat-like agility.

This time, there was a shift in its stance, lower, more balanced. It wasn't just using its fists anymore.

In an instant, the figure darted forward, lifting a leg and sending a brutal kick straight toward my chest.

I barely managed to cross my arms in time to block it, the force sending me sliding backward on the icy floor.

My bones rattled from the impact, the sheer power behind the kick is shocking.

Before I could steady myself, the figure closed the gap, spinning into a whirlwind of kicks.

The first strike came high, aimed at my head. I ducked, feeling the wind from the missed kick ruffle my hair.

The second came low, a sweeping roundhouse aimed at my legs. I leapt back just in time, but the figure's foot followed with a vicious upward kick toward my ribs.

I winced as I blocked it with my forearm, the force almost numbing my entire arm.

The cloaked figure was faster now, too fast.

It didn't give me any room to breathe, launching into a relentless barrage of kicks, each one faster and stronger than the last.

I found myself on the defensive, barely able to block or dodge in time.

Another kick sailed toward my head. I ducked and threw up a quick barrier of ice, hoping to slow it down. But the figure shattered it with a spinning back kick, the shards of ice exploding outward.

I had to change tactics.

As the next kick came toward my torso, I pivoted sideways, grabbing the figure's leg mid-strike.

I felt the force of the kick ripple through my body, but I held on, twisting with all my strength.

The figure stumbled, but before I could capitalize, it spun, using the momentum to send a heel crashing down toward my head.

I released its leg and ducked, the kick missing by inches.

I couldn't afford to stay on the defensive.

Summoning a quick burst of frost beneath me, I slid across the icy floor, creating distance between us.

Panting, I turned to face the cloaked figure again, my body aching from the barrage of kicks.

But something was different now.

The air felt heavier, the tension more palpable. As I steadied myself, I caught a glimpse of movement beneath the figure's hood.

The fabric shifted slightly, and for the first time, I could see a sliver of their face.

In one swift motion, the figure reached up and pulled the hood back, revealing an emotionless face... a girl, her expression is cold and distant, her eyes are sharp and piercing.

Dark hair fell around her shoulders, framing her pale, almost doll-like features.

I froze for a moment, caught off guard.

A girl? She looked no older than me, but the power radiating from her was overwhelming.

"What the hell? I'm fighting a girl? Now I'm feeling bad... I don't want to hit a girl."

I stared at the girl in disbelief, her expression still as cold and distant as before.

The sheer force she had been using against me didn't match her frail-looking appearance, but I knew better than to underestimate her.

She remained silent, eyes locked on me, her body poised for another attack.

I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

"Wait, wait," I panted, catching my breath. "Look, I don't know who you are, or why you're doing this, but this has to stop."

The girl didn't move. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if gauging whether I was serious or just trying to bait her.

"I don't want to fight anymore," I continued, lowering my arms slowly.

For a moment, it seemed like she was considering my words.

Her gaze flickered, her posture less rigid, but the coldness in her eyes remained.

"Listen, I'm Kira, part of the Arcane Brigade. If you're after something, maybe we can talk about it. You don't need to do bad things to get it."

Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, as if processing the information.

"Who are you?" I pressed, trying to reach her. "Why are you doing this?"

Still, the girl didn't respond, her expression betraying nothing of her thoughts.

Just when I thought I was losing her, a single word escaped her lips, sharp and clear amidst the chaos.

"Akira."

The name hung in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on me. I furrowed my brow, trying to grasp its significance.

"Akira?" I repeated, the name sounding foreign yet somehow familiar. "Is that... is that you?"

She gave a subtle nod, but her demeanor remained unyielding.

The shadows around her pulsed, as if reacting to her words, but I didn't back down. I had to understand what this meant.

"Okay, Akira," I said slowly, trying to establish some connection. "I'm Kira. Are you... looking for someone?"

Her gaze didn't waver, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something beneath her cold facade, frustration, perhaps? But it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The silence between us grew thick, oppressive, as if the very air around us was waiting for her next move.

Her eyes locked onto mine, unblinking, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a hint of conflict behind those cold, distant features.

Then, in the same quiet, emotionless voice, she spoke again, a single word that hit me harder than any blow she'd thrown so far.

"Brother."

I blinked, my breath catching in my throat.

Brother? The word echoed in my mind, confusing me even more.

Was she talking about me? Was she talking about someone else? There was no mistaking the weight of that word, but the way she said it... It felt personal. But I had no memory of her, no recognition.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get this right, are you looking for your brother or you saying I'm your brother? Cause I'm sure as hell that I don't have a sister."

Akira's eyes flickered with something unreadable, her lips parting as if she was about to say something.

But before she could speak, a deep, disembodied voice echoed through the room, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Enough."

The sound reverberated, powerful and commanding, shaking the very walls of the chamber.

Akira's entire body stiffened, her eyes widening for the briefest of moments before she shot a glance toward the shadows.

Without a word, she vanished into the swirling darkness, disappearing as if she'd never been there at all.

I blinked, the room suddenly eerily quiet, my heart still pounding from the intensity of the fight.

I searched the shadows, trying to catch a glimpse of where she'd gone, but there was nothing... just the remnants of her presence, cold and unsettling.

"Strange..."

Then suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my body.

The fighting earlier must be taking toll on my body. But I can't rest... not until I save the dark elves at the hands of this shadowy forces.

I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to stand upright despite the pain throbbing through every muscle.

I couldn't afford to waste any more time.

The dark elves were somewhere deeper within this place, their magic being drained by whatever dark force was pulling the strings.

I moved through the corridor, my hand pressed against my side to steady myself, each step sending a new wave of pain through my body.

The air grew colder as I ventured deeper into the dungeon, the shadows growing thicker, almost suffocating.

Faint whispers echoed around me, disorienting in their direction but always present, as if something, or someone, was watching.

Eventually, I found it.

A large iron door, etched with strange runes that glowed a sickly purple, stood before me.

The door seemed to pulse with an eerie energy, almost alive. This had to be it, the place where they held the dark elves.

I pressed my hand against the door and felt a surge of dark magic push back against me.

It was strong, far stronger than anything I'd encountered before. My ice magic wouldn't be enough to break through this. I needed to think fast.

Digging deep, I summoned every ounce of magic I had left, focusing on the frost within me.

A blue glow flickered around my hand, and I pushed it into the iron, freezing the surface solid.

With a grunt, I raised my other hand and slammed my fist against the frozen door.

Cracks splintered across the metal like a spider's web, and with one final hit, the door shattered into pieces, the runes dissolving into nothingness.

I stepped inside, greeted by the sight of several dark elves, each shackled to the walls by heavy chains that glowed with the same dark energy as the door.

Their faces were pale, drained of life, but their eyes still held a flicker of hope.

Magic flowed from them through the chains, siphoned into a large crystal suspended in the center of the room, pulsating with power.

"Hold on,"

I muttered, forcing myself to move despite the pain.

I reached the nearest elf and examined the chains. Dark magic, bound tight.

I pressed my palm against the shackles, and frost crawled over them, but the magic resisted, pushing back harder than I anticipated.

It was dark magic, designed to siphon life force, I'd need something stronger.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching behind me.

My heart skipped a beat.

I whirled around, my body still aching from the earlier fight, but my senses are alert.

A man stood in the doorway, his silhouette outlined against the dark corridor beyond.

He was tall and draped in fine robes, holding a steaming cup of tea in one hand, the other tucked casually behind his back.