Chapter 57: The Fall of the Lackey
The tension in the grove was unbearable. The crimson witch's lackey stood tall, their cloak billowing in the wind, as their dark eyes locked onto Alaric. The air seemed to vibrate with the intensity of their presence, and Lucian, Seraphine, and Quintin could feel the weight of the upcoming battle. They had expected this moment, but it was still unnerving to witness it unfold before them.
Alaric stood unflinching, his calm demeanor never wavering. His fingers brushed the hilt of the sword at his side, and his eyes flickered with calculation. "You've made a mistake," he said, his voice smooth and steady. "The tree doesn't belong to you. You were warned, but now you'll learn what happens when you overstep."
The lackey sneered, a cruel twist of their lips. "You think you can stop me? I serve the Crimson Witch, the one whose power is beyond your understanding. I will take what is mine."
'Beyond your understanding?..if I remember correctly she was the one who lost..twice…' Lucian thought with a unreadable look on he's face.
With a snap of their fingers, the lackey summoned a swirling vortex of dark energy, crackling with arcane power. The ground trembled beneath their feet as the very air seemed to warp and bend with the intense surge of dark magic. Waves of destructive force shot from the lackey's hands, tearing at the fabric of the world itself as they surged toward Alaric. The dark energy roared with malicious intent, seeking to obliterate him in one devastating strike.
But Alaric was unshaken. His eyes, calm and calculating, followed the oncoming storm with unhurried precision. As the blasts neared, his movements were a seamless dance of grace and discipline. He stepped to the side, his body flowing like water, effortlessly evading the onslaught of jagged dark spikes. Not a single attack came close to touching him, as though the very air itself parted to allow him safe passage.
With a flick of his wrist, Alaric raised his hand, and in an instant, a brilliant light enveloped his form, glowing with an intensity that seemed to banish the darkness itself. It was no mere illusion; he had summoned an impenetrable shield of light, its edges rippling with divine energy. The lackey's dark magic collided with the barrier, crackling like thunder, but it was absorbed entirely, not a scratch on Alaric's form.
The guild master lowered his hand, the light flickering briefly before fading into nothingness. He stood with effortless poise, his gaze fixed on the lackey with a slight, almost amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Is this the best you can do?" Alaric's voice was steady, filled with an unsettling calmness that contrasted sharply with the chaotic energy that had just erupted around them. His words were not filled with arrogance, but rather a subtle mocking tone that belied his overwhelming confidence.
The lackey's eyes, already glowing an unnatural crimson, narrowed with a snarl of frustration. They clenched their fists, their teeth grinding in anger. "You won't win so easily, Alaric," they spat, their voice laced with venom. "I'll show you the true power of the Crimson Witch!"
With a furious roar, another blast of dark energy erupted from the lackey's hands. This time, the magic took the form of jagged, razor-sharp spikes of shadow, tearing through the air with lightning speed. Each one was imbued with deadly intent, aiming to pierce through Alaric's defenses.
But Alaric was already moving before the attack could reach him. His body became little more than a blur as he weaved through the onslaught, his movements fluid and precise. He dodged each spike effortlessly, his form a graceful symphony of speed and agility. There was no hesitation in his steps, no moment where he faltered. It was as though time itself had bent around him, allowing him to navigate the assault with ease.
Within seconds, Alaric had closed the gap between himself and the lackey, his feet barely touching the ground as he moved with an unnatural swiftness. The lackey, still reeling from the failed attack, had no time to react. Alaric was already upon them, his hand outstretched and glowing with the power of a spell far more devastating than anything they had thrown at him.
Before the lackey could even raise their hands in defense, Alaric's wrist flicked with deadly precision. A streak of pure light shot from his palm, a beam of concentrated power that struck the lackey square in the chest. The force of the impact was enough to send them hurtling backward, their body slamming into the ground with a bone-rattling thud.
The lackey gasped for breath as they struggled to push themselves up, their body trembling with the shockwaves of Alaric's spell. They could feel the remnants of the light still burning within them, their skin prickling with the residual energy. It was clear now—this was no ordinary foe. They had underestimated Alaric.
The lackey tried to steady themselves, their crimson eyes flashing with defiance, but Alaric was already standing over them. His presence loomed above them like an immovable force, cold and unyielding. His eyes, darker than any shadow, held no sympathy, no mercy. There was only the calm, unrelenting gaze of a predator staring down its prey.
"You… you can't…" the lackey gasped, their voice strained and hoarse, their body trembling in fear as they tried to recover. But it was too late. Alaric's shadow had already engulfed them, and there was no escape from the doom that was about to befall them.
Alaric's voice came, low and controlled, each word dripping with the weight of inevitability. "You should have stayed out of this," he said, his tone unbothered, almost indifferent. "But now, you've sealed your fate."
With that, Alaric extended his hand. A swirl of energy coalesced in his palm, and within moments, a spear of pure light appeared. He thrust it forward with a single motion, the spear piercing the lackey's side with such force that it sent them stumbling backward.
The lackey staggered, clutching their wound, their eyes wide with disbelief. "No… this can't be happening. I… I serve the Crimson Witch… I'm invincible…"
Alaric's expression remained unchanged. "No one is invincible."
With a final, decisive gesture, Alaric unleashed a burst of magic that wrapped around the lackey, binding them in place. The lackey struggled, but the magical chains held firm, keeping them immobile. Their eyes flicked desperately toward the tree, but it was too late. Alaric had already won.
"You were never a match for me," Alaric said, his voice calm, almost pitying. "Go back to your mistress and tell her that her lackey has failed."
The lackey snarled in anger, but they could do nothing. Their strength was gone, their will broken, and they had no choice but to retreat. With a final, furious glare, the lackey disappeared into the shadows, vanishing from sight as quickly as they had appeared.
As the dust settled, Lucian, Seraphine, and Quintin stepped forward, their eyes wide with admiration and awe. It had been over in mere moments—Alaric's overwhelming power had crushed the lackey with ease.
"That was… fast," Lucian said, still processing what he had witnessed. "I thought it would be a longer fight."
Seraphine nodded in agreement, her eyes never leaving Alaric. "He didn't even break a sweat."
Quintin smirked. "That was impressive. I didn't know our guild master was this strong."
Alaric, adjusting his glasses, looked down at the spot where the lackey had fallen. "You can never underestimate an opponent, but experience is everything in these kinds of battles. The lackey was powerful, but not enough to challenge me."
He turned to the group, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "We've secured the tree, and the threat has been dealt with. But this is only the beginning. There's still much to uncover about the Crimson Witch's plans."
Lucian glanced back at the tree, his eyes narrowing. "The tree's power… it's not just a weapon. It's something more, isn't it?"
Alaric's gaze followed Lucian's. "Yes. But that's a matter for another time. For now, let's return to the village and make sure there are no more surprises."
As they walked away from the grove, the remnants of the battle hanging in the air, the weight of what had just transpired settled over them. The Crimson Witch's forces had been dealt a blow, but it was clear that the path ahead would be fraught with even greater challenges. For now, however, Alaric had proven once again that his power was unmatched—and that they were in capable hands.