A gust of wind ran across the battlefield, carrying the weight of lost souls and the suffocating presence of death, while Maleagant and the knight stared at each other. Both knew that death had come bearing the strings of fate, overseeing their duel.
Having enough of time spent waiting for the other to make their move, the knight growled as he rushed forward, performing a rapid and wide swing. Maleagant deflected the attack, counterattacking with yet another jab, though his opponent had learned where he was targeting by now. The knight sidestepped, feeling the walking stick merely grazing his breastplate, thrusting his glaive at Maleagant's chest, who dodged, just a second away from death as the glaive left a cut on the side of his blue robes.
Again, Maleagant was met with an unrelenting onslaught of wide swings and uppercuts. Each preceded by a rush of wind. Though he may have feigned his role as a senile old man, it went without saying that his age was catching up with him. He was growing weary, and the knight was only just beginning to use all within his skill set to tear him asunder.
The knight leapt up, swinging down and finding their weapons locked in a test of strength that he was winning, marked by the cracks that spread across the wide, grey staff.
"Your time has come," said the knight, pressing down with all his might, reveling in the sight of Maleagant's once austere expression now one of apprehension, "to greet the Final God!"
Maleagant resorted to one handing the staff, letting it angle down. Within a matter of seconds, he watched as the glaive guided itself along the staff straight into the grass, before he performed one revolution, using all his gathered momentum to slam the staff against the knight's helmet, sending him crashing down into the dull end of the blade.
Maleagant stood in the silence of his own quick and heavy breaths, watching as nefandis laymen, militiamen, and others ranks made their way over to him, while he held on tightly to his staff dug in the ground.
"An old man?" a gravelly, somber, and distorted voice called out, grabbing Maleagant's attention as he scoured the rank and file, before taking notice of a man in silver armour using his forked staff as a walking stick. "Come to surrender your soul? I shall be the one to reap it."
***
"Maleagant said you need to rest!" said Kane, watching as Bauer had an awkward time trying to walk around, who took the time to harness the black swords to his waist and felt a cold yet burning pain as he swung his arms. "I'm not getting in trouble because of your bullshit!"
"Calm down you borderline skeleton," said Bauer, performing all sorts of stretches, though he felt like his legs could give up at any moment with how hard it was to feel them. Seems like whatever the old man gave me is still hindering my movements. "I am relaxing."
"Motherfucker, don't bullshit with me! You said you wanted to go out and see what was up!"
"Calm the fuck down, man. It'll be fine. If it's anything too crazy then we'll head back."
Kane shook his head as he sighed, following Bauer to the door. "I know exactly how this is gonna go. You're gonna see something that makes you think, 'oh shit, maybe we should go back in', and then you're just gonna rush into the danger."
"You think it's really gonna be that dangerous?" asked Bauer as he opened the door, revealing nothing more than a windy day at dawn as they stepped out. "Especially when that old man went out? You could be taking one step and he's already completed a thousand, even while using that walking stick of his. If he's going to check it out, then that means I'm more than qualified to do so as well."
"W-well," Kane paused, for there really wasn't any refutation to be made at that point, especially when they were fooled by the farce Maleagant put up. He sighed. "Alright fine. Let's go and see what's up, but you do realize that the Bell of Peril isn't just rung for fun, right?"
"Kane!" a voice called out, harbouring a sense of frustration and concern, cutting right through the rush of wind that sung in their ears.
He looked back, taking notice of an ugly man with a particularly large, aquiline nose—the only thing on his face lacking any deep creases—and a large forehead leading into a bald head with brown hair around the back and sides. His attire put Kane's to shame, if his wasn't already shameful in a vacuum. Underneath a very dark brown cape, adorned with a floral and jewel pattern over the shoulders and chest, he wore clean, light brown clothing and a white shirt. Behind him stood several guards, all with pikes in hand and swords tied on belts.
"Kane, now is not the time to be out!" he yelled, each word he uttered revealing his molars, and even more bold lines across his face as he frowned. He raised a brow as he observed Bauer from top to bottom, taking notice of the black weapons strapped to his waist.
"Ah, Mayor Wymond!" Kane's brows raised, as did the enthusiasm in his voice, though he thought otherwise about seeing the Mayor now of all times. "I... I was just, uh, taking this man back to Sage Maleagant's infirmary! You know, he's a little..." He went silent as he held out an open hand and then tapped the side of it against his neck as he pursed his lips.
"What the fuck did you just call me?" retorted Bauer, glaring at Kane, who simply ignored it.
"Profanity, mister!" yelled Wymond, his face visibly red and the creases along it somehow even darker than before.
"Forgive him, Mayor Wymond!" pleaded Kane, laughing internally. "Like I said, he's a little bit on that side, but he can't help it."
Wymond slowly nodded with squinted eyes, frowning as his jaw shifted beneath his skin, before looking over his shoulders at the guards as he said, "Go. I will arrive shortly afterward."
Kane and Bauer watched as the guards rushed past them, their armour rattling in the air, while Wymond silently stood in place, letting his cape flow in the wind, as though they were about to have a standoff.
"Alright," whispered Kane, both eyes glued onto Wymond, who held a hand around his waist, "this is the part where I tell you to run."
Bauer chuckled nervously. "W-what?"
"Run!" yelled Kane, rolling out of the way of a whip that reached for his ankles, cracking in the air like a gun shot. Without another word, Kane ran off, forgetting about Bauer entirely.
"Oh shit! What the fuck is that!?" yelled Bauer, his voice reaching a high pitch that opera singers strove for, hopping back before running off. Suddenly he could feel his arms and legs perfectly, and he quickly caught up with Kane. "What the fuck is his problem?"
"I may have pissed him off a hundred too many times?"
"So he brought out the whip!?"
"Well that's nothing new. I've seen it so much that I've memorized his attack patterns!"
"Nah I'm not staying in this place," said Bauer, looking back for a second to find Mayor Wymond simply walking, wearing the widest smile he'd ever seen across someone's face. "Maleagant may want me to rest, but I'm not staying within ten kilometres of that fucker!"
And so they ran for dear life, speeding past the guards, who were just nearing Thalamar's guard outpost at the wooden pillars.
Kane looked past the pillars to the wild, before looking back and watching Mayor Wymond, who inexplicably wasn't falling that far behind despite merely walking.
How the fuck is that even possible!? "Bauer!" yelled Kane, gritting his teeth. "I swear, if we don't make it out of this without getting captured by Wymond, or without dying to whatever is out there, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you!"
Bauer snorted. "You couldn't even if you tried you powdered-sugar-covered breadstick!"
"Say that to my face you ungrateful fuck!"
"I just fucking did!"
In classic fashion, they continued back and forth like children until they found themselves well out of Thalamar, which made them halt as they stood along the tilled path, taking notice of red and blue flashes far off in the distance, with an audience gathered around.
Kane stepped forward, squinting to get a better look. "What is going on over there?"