Interlude 14: The Last Command |
Marcus was not a fool. A fool could not have survived for so long in the brutal, twisted court that his father maintained. Only the cruel could survive... and the cunning. When the first of his siblings had vanished, he had assumed it was merely his father playing his usual games. He loved to pit them against each other, and he was fond of sending them on seemingly impossible missions. It was his way of testing them, of seeing which of them were worthy of following in his footsteps. Of course, his father had no intention of giving up any real power. What he needed were people to help manage his growing empire.
Marcus had no great love for his siblings. They did not share the same mother, and he was, by far, the youngest of them. They also took more after their father, or perhaps their father had simply had more time to mould them in his own image. They were no friends of his. Indeed, apart from his father, they were the people he feared the most. Despite Marcus's low standing amongst his kin, there were few outside his own family that would dare to raise a hand against him. He was, despite everything, still his father's son. But if his siblings harmed him? Well, that was different. His father would likely shrug his shoulders and blame it on Marcus's own weakness. Better a dead son than a weak one.
He could still remember his younger years. Had it not been for Sergio's kindness and guidance, he might well have perished then. The older vampire was one of his father's most capable subordinates, and not even Marcus's siblings could act rashly against him. But unlike most of his father's followers, Sergio was not needlessly cruel, nor did he revel in lording his power over others. Instead, he seemed weary, as though his exalted position was more of a curse than a blessing. It was only later, as Marcus had grown wiser and more capable, that Sergio shared the truth of how he had come to serve Marcus's father.
Sergio had also warned Marcus about his father, telling him that neither he nor his siblings had been sired out of any desire for family. As always, it was about power. Marcus's father was already the mightiest vampire to ever live, but even his power had begun to reach its limits. Marcus and his siblings were experiments, tests to explore the various ways his bloodline could evolve. They were useful tools as well, but that was all. Once they had outlived their usefulness, once their father had learned everything he could from them...
Sergio had not needed to say anything else.
Marcus's father would not suffer the existence of a true challenger to his throne.
At the time, there had been a part of Marcus that wanted to believe his mentor was wrong. His father was monstrous, yes, but to be that monstrous? What a fool he'd been. He should have known better.
And now he did.
One by one, his siblings had gone missing, and none had reappeared. It did not take a genius to know that Sergio had been right all along. What use were heirs to a being who intended to live forever? Soon, it would be Marcus's turn, and however curious he might be about what had truly befallen his siblings, he had no intention of joining them. Fighting his father was out of the question. Instead, he would flee the vampire homeland and make a life for himself elsewhere. His father was strong, but he couldn't face the entire world, not yet. And although Marcus wouldn't be able to take much with him, he could take enough to make a decent start wherever he chose to live. He would find a way to survive. He would also try to warn the world of his father's growing madness although he doubted anyone would listen.
"Lord Marcus," the leader of the guardsmen drawled. "Your father has give strict orders. None are to leave the palace without his permission. Return to your chambers."
Marcus did his best to remain calm. "I have business in the city. It won't take long. I'll be back before sunrise."
The guardsman shook his head. "No. You will return to your quarters. Now."
"Stand aside, or have you forgotten that I am my father's son?" Marcus's expression turned haughty, befitting a vampire noble.
"We do not take orders from you. We answer only to your father, and his orders were clear. Return to your chambers immediately."
Marcus's eyes narrowed faintly. The guardsmen's postures had changed, and their hands had drifted toward their weapons. Their magic was simmering, like water about to boil. If there were only two or three of them, he would be confident of escaping. But an entire squad? That meant a dozen of them. There was no way he could outfight or escape so many. Yet if he returned to his chambers, he might as well sign his own death warrant.
He was about to reply when he heard footsteps approaching. It was Sergio.
The older vampire's appearance had changed drastically from the last time Marcus had seen him. According to the rumours, Sergio had gone into seclusion to attempt Blood Ascension... and he had failed. As a result, his lifespan had been massively shortened. Rather than resembling a man in his prime, he now had the grey hair and wrinkled skin of a man closer to the end of his days. Yet his eyes remained sharp and his back unbent. More importantly, he was armed. It was the black spear he always carried into battle.
"Lord Sergio." The leader of the guardsmen inclined his head. "Are you here to deal with Lord Marcus."
"Yes." Sergio's eyes flicked over the guardsmen. Before his failed Blood Ascension, he could have bested all of them with ease. But now, from what Marcus could feel of his magic, it would be no easy task. Sergio's magic, his very soul, felt broken in a way that was difficult to describe. "Continue your patrol. I will escort Lord Marcus back to his chambers."
For a second, Marcus thought the guardsman would agree. After all, Sergio was a high-ranking official under the direct command of the ruler they all served. But then the guardsman's expression tightened, and he drew his sword. The others followed suit.
"You would help Lord Marcus escape?" The guardsman scowled. "Traitor!"
"Ah. A pity. I had hoped to let you live." Sergio raised his spear.
"Your failed Blood Ascension must have driven you mad. You are not who you used to be. Now, you are just a cripple waiting to die."
"Is that so?" Sergio smiled faintly.
Marcus's eyes widened as a triple helix of crimson, emerald, and azure spread across the black spear. He had never seen that before, nor had he heard of anything like it. Sergio's spear was often called the Black Spear precisely because it was completely black.
The guardsmen rushed forward.
It was a wise move. Whatever that triple helix meant, it could not possibly be good for them.
They were too late.
The spear flew from Sergio's hand.
"Strike true, Gurthangir."
The spear blurred, moving too fast for Marcus's eyes to follow. The guardsmen fell. The spear returned to Sergio's hand, leaving trails of red, green, and blue in its wake. Each of the guardsmen had been pierced straight through the heart. Normally, that wouldn't be enough to kill vampires of their power. The spear must possess some means of preventing regeneration or inflicting true death. A truly fearsome weapon.
Sergio turned to Marcus. "You should leave and take these with you." He stepped over the bodies and gave Marcus a satchel with several vials of blood in it.
"What are these?"
"When your father killed the other Progenitors, he wasn't so foolish as to utterly destroy their bodies immediately. No. He made sure to collect some of their blood before destroying them. I cannot say for certain what powers your father wields, but I do know that he has some method for absorbing the powers wielded by the other Progenitors. It is the only way to explain all he has accomplished since defeating them." Sergio's expression tightened. "I don't know if you possess a similar power, but his blood flows through your veins. It may take your own Blood Ascension before you can be sure, but that blood may still be of use to you. And if it proves useless? I would still rather it be in your hands than his."
"He will kill you for this," Marcus said. "No matter how useful you've been so far."
Sergio laughed. "I've been dying on the inside for centuries, Marcus. It matters little if I die now, especially after my failed Blood Ascension." His grin turned toothy. "And if I'm going to die, I might as well make things as inconvenient for your father as possible."
"Fair enough." Marcus turned and then stopped. "You could come with me, Sergio. We could just leave and never look back."
The older vampire shook his head. "No, Marcus. I've lived on my knees long enough. If I can, I'd at least like to die on my feet." He smiled, gently this time. "You should be going, Marcus. You might be the only decent thing your father ever brought into this world. And if I might make a suggestion..."
"By all means."
"Seek out the dragons. Of all the powers left in this world, they are the only ones with both the power to stand against what your father will become and the inclination to do so."
"I'll try." Marcus's fists clenched. "Then... this is goodbye, isn't it?"
"It is." Sergio inclined his head. "In my life, there has only been one I have been proud to call my lord." He paused, and his gaze grew searching. "If I could have lived a little longer, I think you would have been the second. Now, go, Marcus. And regardless of what you see or hear, do not look back. Do not stop. Not for anything or anyone."
Marcus took a deep breath. "Good luck, Sergio. And thank you for everything."
Then he was gone, and only Sergio remained.
"Luck?" Sergio chuckled. "Looking back on everything, I suppose I have been lucky." The sound of boots drew near. "Even if it ended in bitterness, to have met the others... what else could that have been but the greatest luck of my life?"
Sergio's hands trembled before he forced them to tighten once again. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he and Marcus had parted ways, but the time since then had been filled with nothing but blood and slaughter. He had fought his way through the palace leaving behind a sea of carnage. Gore splattered the walls, floor, and ceiling. He had all but annihilated Verus's guardsmen along with seemingly endless hordes of human thralls, zombies, and various wraiths, spirits, and ghouls. However, he wasn't so foolish as to believe he had exhausted his foe's strength. The true horrors that Verus had crafted had yet to take the field. As for Sergio, his strength was nearing its limits. Already, his vision was growing dim around the edges, and the taste of his own blood filled his mouth.
He had only a single card left to play, and there was no better time to play it.
Rather than knock on the doors of the throne room, Sergio chose to kick them open. The blow broke the doors off their hinges, and his lips curled in distaste. The throne room was ostentatious in the way most vampire architecture was, designed both to intimidate and impress. The tattered banners of the fallen Progenitors hung before murals depicting their defeats. Some of their less fortunate followers were immortalised too. Verus had killed them by enveloping them in clouds of molten ash. The resulting 'statues' lined the throne room, another macabre reminder of his overwhelming strength.
Verus himself sat upon a grand obsidian throne at the far end of the hall. The sole remaining Progenitor might have possessed an intellect that put even the greatest scholars to shame, but he was no mere scholar. He stood as tall as any man Sergio had ever met and was broader at the shoulder than most. Indeed, judged solely by his appearance, it would have been easy to mistake him for a warrior. And that was what made him dangerous: unmatched power combined with fiendish cunning and peerless intellectual brilliance. A true monster in every way.
Verus leaned forward and glanced past Sergio. "You've made quite a mess, haven't you?"
"That was the idea."
Verus chuckled. "You do realise that you're going to die, don't you?"
"Of course. I would expect nothing less."
"How interesting." There was no anger upon Verus's face, only genuine curiosity. "Still, I find myself wondering. Why now of all times? Despite what happened to your former master, you have nevertheless served me well for centuries. If you were going to betray me, why not earlier or why not at a more opportune moment? Was it because of Marcus? I know you often tutored him, but sacrificing him would only have increased my trust in you and thus improved your chances of getting revenge, however small they might be." His eyes shone crimson. "Or is it because of your failed Blood Ascension? Hmm, yes, that must be it. After all, you are running out of time, Sergio."
"Why do you bother asking questions to which you already know the answer." Sergio banged the butt of his spear upon the floor. The polished marble shattered beneath the blow.
"You're exhausted, Sergio. It's a testament to your skill and fortitude that you've made it this far. Clearly, I need to be more selective when it comes to choosing my guardsmen. As exceptional as you are, I can't help but find their performance... lacklustre. Still, what will you do? As you are, you can't hope to wound me, never mind kill me."
"I have one last move to make."
"Then by all means, make it. Of all those who have served me, you might well be the cleverest. I'd like to see this... trick you've been saving. At the very least, you owe me some amusement for killing so many of my servants although I suppose I should also thank you for showing me how utterly lacking they were."
Sergio smiled thinly. His magic surged, and he reached for the tattered remnants of his soul - and pulled them apart. In response, the dim, weakening flame that was his power roared. His aged body grew young again, and the wellspring of energy within him that had been all but exhausted overflowed once more. Vitality surged through him, and the barely visible tricoloured helix upon his spear shone like three rivers of stars. Agony surged through him, but Sergio's smile only widened.
"Oh?" Verus stood and clapped. "This is... False Ascension. I should know. I proposed the theory behind it. I remember discussing it with you years ago. But I never thought I would actually see someone accomplish it." He bared his teeth. "The pain must be unbelievable."
"It is."
And it was. With his soul little more than a fractured, broken mess from his failed Blood Ascension, Sergio had never been closer to death. Yet False Ascension allowed him to use his fraying soul as kindling to fuel the last and most brilliant fire that would ever burn in his life. He and his parasite had not been able to come to terms. His parasite had wanted to continue serving Verus, to grow fat on the scraps fallen from the other vampire's table, but that was not something Sergio could abide.
He and his parasite had fought, and Sergio had eventually emerged victorious. Yet their battle had been so close and so dire and vicious that the aftermath had result in a failed Blood Ascension and a soul on the verge of collapse. False Ascension was all that he had left. By using his soul as fuel, his remaining lifespan would no longer be measured in years or decades. It would be measured in minutes. But in exchange, he could, at least for a short time, wield the power of Blood Ascension. At the same time, every moment would be agony. But Sergio was used to pain. At this point in his life, it was closer to an old friend than an enemy.
"Well," Verus said. "You're determined. I'll give you that." He gestured, and the doors on either side of the throne room burst open. Zombies poured in. These were not the weak, cumbersome undead that Sergio had already slaughtered. No. These were works of necromantic art, twisted abominations that could easily have served as champions on the battlefield. They were chimeras, zombified amalgamations of countless creatures that were designed to maximise their strengths and minimise their weakness. "I'm curious to see how you'll do against these... experiments of mine." His eyes narrowed. "Your spear is different, Sergio. It always came across as little more than a sharp piece of metal." He laughed, genuinely delighted. "Yet another thing you managed to hide from me. Truly impressive."
Sergio raised his spear. This would be his last battle. It made no sense to hold anything back. Besides, with the power now flowing through him, there were things he could do that had been beyond him before. Rather than throw his spear, he lifted it high above his head and then plunged it into the floor. Magic surged through it, and prismatic light filled the throne room.
"Tear all things asunder, Gurthangir."
The throne room shook, and then great blood-red roots, vines, and thorns erupted from the floor. Within seconds, the grandeur of the throne room was in shambles as a forest of death ripped its way through the zombies. The undead were bound, shredded, impaled, and tossed aside. The palace trembled, and dozens of barbed branches lanced toward Verus. The older vampire swung one hand out, and a series of gleaming, astral barriers rippled into existence. The branches came apart in a shower of blood, wood, and metal.
Sergio dragged in a deep breath and pulled Gurthangir out of the ground. The zombies were dead, every last one of them. Slowly, the assortment of thorns, branches, and roots vanished.
"Now that was far beyond my expectations," Verus murmured. "It makes me wonder... that spear wasn't meant for you, was it? Aurelian was supposed to have it. But why didn't he bring it to the meeting? If he'd had something like that, he might actually have been able to kill me all those years ago."
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"The past cannot be changed," Sergio said. "The lord I swore to serve is dead, and I will soon join him. But if there are gods and if they are kind, you will be joining us both."
Verus stepped forward, his gaze dwelling momentarily on the ruined throne room before it settled on Sergio. "You know, I find myself in a generous mood, Sergio. You served me so well for so many years. Since this will be our last meeting, why don't I give you a gift suitable for one who is about to die?" He bared his teeth again. "You must be wondering why I am so confident of conquest. After all, won't I draw the eyes of those overgrown lizards who style themselves the rulers of this world? I may be arrogant, Sergio, but I have never been stupid. I dare to dream of conquest because I have the means to withstand their fury - and you will be the first to see those means."
The whole palace shook, and Sergio stumbled back as a tide of blood tore its way up from the bowels of the palace and through the floor of the throne room. The blood swirled around Verus, and Sergio retreated further as the currents of magic that flowed through the land began to warp and twist as well.
"What is this?" Sergio murmured. "What did you do?"
"In the end, it all comes down to the parasite," Verus said. "The parasite's power is ultimately limited by its host. A parasite can only grow so strong when its host is limited. We vampires were human once, and humans are limited. But what if a better host could be found?" Blood crept along his body and drew intricate patterns across his clothes and exposed flesh. "What if I could bind myself to the land and give the parasite access to the land and the power it holds? What kind of vampire could I become then?"
Sergio took to the air with magic as a new tide of blood obliterated the throne room. He used his spear to carve a hole in the ceiling as a pillar of blood shot upward. It smashed through the ceiling and rose up into the sky. The currents of magic swirled and then collapsed inward, feeding the pillar as it grew taller and broader, swallowing the palace. Above them, the clear sky gave way to clouds laden with blood, and Sergio hastily set up a protective barrier as scarlet rain began to pelt down on him.
"This..." Sergio growled. "Abomination."
The pillar of blood changed, going from a crimson whirlwind to a titan that stood hundreds of feet tall and floated high above the ruins of the palace. Through his astral magic, Sergio could see the bonds that linked the blood titan to the currents of magic that flowed through the land. And at the titan's heart, shining like a star, was Verus.
So this was his plan. And what a plan it was. The power radiating from the titan was truly awe-inspiring, orders of magnitude beyond anything Sergio had seen from Verus in the past. And this was only the result of drawing upon the currents of magic in their immediate vicinity. If this sorcery could be extended, linking Verus to the currents of magic throughout the vampire homelands and beyond... then defeating the primordial dragons in battle might not be impossible after all.
Sergio almost wanted to laugh. He'd underestimate Verus. The man was cruel, evil, and likely insane. But he was also a genius, one unmatched in the annals of vampire history.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Verus's voice echoed through the sky like thunder. The blood titan was fairly crude in appearance although its shape was undoubtedly loosely modelled on Verus's own. "It's not finished yet, still a work in progress. But the concept, as you can see, works just fine." The titan raised one hand and beckoned Sergio forward. "Do you have any other tricks left, Sergio? If not, then offer your neck. I'll be sure to make it quick. Consider it a reward for your years of good service."
"I do have one last trick."
"Then show me."
Sergio closed his eyes. The fire inside him was close to going out, but it would be hottest at the moment before its extinguishment. He opened his eyes and raised his spear. This would be the last strike of his life. Let it be the greatest also.
"Soar," he whispered, drawing his arm back. "Sing death and bloom, Gurthangir."
He threw the spear.
And the speed of its passage was such that the bloody rain parted and a crack of thunder followed in its wake. A glittering barrier of blood and magic appeared to block it, but the barrier shattered.
Another barrier appeared.
It shattered too.
And another and another.
Twelve barriers in total, each a master work mightier than the walls of a great fortress, each a testament to the skill and power Verus wielded.
Gurthangir, the master work of three of Sergio's closest friends, pierced through eleven of those barriers...
And ground to a halt against the twelfth.
"A fine blow," Verus said. "Worthy of story and song. But not enough."
"I'm not done yet." Sergio coughed blood, but he didn't bother to wipe it away. "Or didn't you hear what I said earlier? That was Gurthangir soaring. Now it must sing death and bloom."
Gurthangir unfurled, unfolding like a flower before the sun. And where a spear had been, a gigantic rose wrought of blood remained. It shone, its petals covered in countless runes, and in the air around it, the elf-song of the First Age rang out. Death, the song sang, death, death, death! And the magic that fed the rose came not from the accursed ground below but from the skies above. The bloody rain ceased. The clouds cleared. And the sky beloved of the dwarves of the Third Age was seen once more, the stars shining down upon the transformed spear.
It was a killing blow that used the death song of the elves, the blood magic of the vampires, and the craft and sorcery of the dwarves to create a colossal death rune in the form of a rose.
And for a second, Sergio thought he could see a great tree looming over everything, a tree so vast its boughs could cast shadows over the whole world. But the image faded, and the rose erupted in a maelstrom of power that sent Sergio tumbling end over end through the sky. For a few moments, the world ceased to exist. There was only a boundless and terrible killing force bearing down on everything.
When Sergio finally regained his bearing, the blood titan was gone. Only Verus remained, his clothes tattered, his body battered. And trembling in the air in front of him, only a hair's breadth from his chest was Gurthangir.
A single, solitary spark of defensive magic stood between the spear and its prey. Slowly, the spear's grew still. Its power was exhausted - or perhaps, it was Sergio's that had run dry.
Verus shook his head in wonder. "Unbelievable. If it had not come so close to striking me down, I would never have believed that such a weapon could exist." He threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, Sergio, what a wonder you have shown me! I will enjoy studying it."
"You will study nothing." Sergio coughed blood. He reached up to wipe it away and then glanced down at his hand. His fingers had begun to turn to ash. He was out of time. "Heed my last command. Gurthangir." The spear trembled. "Fly. Leave this place." The spear's trembling grew stronger, as if it could not bear to obey. "Go to your new master. You know of whom I speak." Sergio coughed again. "Go, Gurthangir!"
The spear flashed one last time - green for the woods Caelera had loved, red for Aurelian's blood magic, and blue for the sky Jarn had never stopped dreaming of - and then it was gone. Verus's greedy, grasping hands could only close on empty air.
"You!" For the first time, rage filled Verus's voice. "You dare..." He trailed off.
There was no point in yelling. Sergio had already turned to ash. Only his laughter remained on the wind.
Far away, Marcus stopped as a pitch-black spear drove itself into the ground before him. His eyes widened, and then he pulled the spear from the earth. It was cold in his hands, cold and dead. He knew what its appearance meant. Sergio was dead. Snarling in a combination of grief and fury, he forced himself to keep moving. There was nothing more he could do for Sergio, but he refused to let him die in vain. He had to live, if only to see his father destroyed and Sergio avenged.
Caelera watched as Ashheart tossed aside the smouldering, charred remains of his foe. The zombie behemoth - a towering monstrosity that was almost as large as he was - crashed to the ground. Around them, the landscape had been reduced to a nightmare of scorched earth, molten rock, and lava. Rather can try to conceal herself, she stepped out into the open. Besides, even if she'd wanted to hide, she no longer could. She was far too old now, and her death was upon her. She no longer had the power to hide from his senses.
Ashheart's volcanic gaze fell upon her. All of his current foes had been slain, and the next wave of zombies was still some distance away. "It has been a long time, Caelera."
"You remember me."
"I do... you and your partner. Of all the foes I have faced, Blood-Root was amongst the very worthiest," Ashheart rumbled. "I have not forgotten even a single moment of our battle."
"He would have been honoured to hear that," Caelera replied. She shook her head. "A pity that you killed him."
"There is much about those days that I wish could have gone differently, but we had little choice at the time." Ashheart peered down at her. So many thought him a mere brute blessed with overwhelming might but little intellect, but she had always understood that his rough appearance hid a capable mind. Doomwing, of all people, would never have chosen an idiot to be his closest living friend. "Why are you here? If you seek to interfere with Doomwing's plan, I will have no choice but to strike you down although... looking at you now, I doubt you have the strength for that."
"You don't have to worry about me interfering. I have no love for you or the other dragons, Ashheart, but that vampire... of all the people in the world, I might be the one who hates him the most. He is the reason my friends are dead. He is the reason, my dreams died with them."
"I see." The flame kindling in Ashheart's jaws banked. "Then why are you here?"
"I want to see him die," Caelera said. She gestured at herself. "I am dying, Ashheart. I have been dying for a long time now. But before I go, I want to see that vampire suffer. I want to see the moment that his ambitions come to nought, the moment he realises that for all his efforts, all his plotting and scheming, there are things he cannot do. I want to be there when he sees the sky beyond the summit and understands that he is nothing." She sighed. "And despite how much I despise you and your kind, whatever world that vampire wishes to create would be far worse than the world you and your fellows protect."
For a long moment, Ashheart merely stared at her, weighing the truth of her words. Finally, he spoke. "If you go, you will die. The power Doomwing intends to bring to bear will not spare the vampire homelands. Even I will have to leave this place once he strikes."
"All the better then. I prefer a swift death over a lingering, miserable decline."
"Then if you wish to go, I will not stop you."
"How strange for an enemy to show me kindness and courtesy."
"You and your partner were my foes, but you were never my enemies."
Caelera's expression twisted and then settled. "Tell me, Ashheart, do you believe in an afterlife?"
"The gods spoke of a great cycle of death and rebirth. I do not know if that cycle is real, but I hope it is." His gaze grew wistful. "I had brothers and sisters once, not the brothers and sisters I chose but those of blood. They all perished in the First Age. I was the youngest, you see, too young to face the Broken God. Too young to die at his hands. But old enough to mourn my kin. I hope that death was not the end for them. I hope they live again, perhaps in kinder worlds with no Broken Gods or Catastrophes. And I hope they hold no memories of this world, or the horror and suffering they must have endured in their final moments. Foolish hopes, perhaps, but hopes all the same."
"I hope so too," Caelera murmured. "I have lost many, Ashheart. Perhaps when I die, I will see them again."
"Perhaps you will." Ashheart sighed, and the sound of it was like a mountain giving way. "Already so many have forgotten the First Age. To all but the very oldest of us, it has already become more myth than memory. You are amongst the few who still remembers the world as it was when the gods still walked amongst us. It is... sad to lose another who remembers."
"Perhaps the day will come when none remember."
"Perhaps. Or perhaps such a time will come again, an Age of gods and wonders." Ashheart's magic stirred, and his power washed over her. "Your magic has grown dim. The power I have given you will speed you on your journey and protect you from the dangers you might face." There was a flash of white light on the horizon. "Go, see the vampire's fall. But be mindful on your journey. Wrath has overtaken Dawnscale. Avoid the area where she fights. It would not do for you to die before you see the vampire's defeat." He paused. "Nor will my power shield you from Doomwing's might. You will die if you are there."
"I know." Caelera inclined her head. "You have my thanks, Ashheart."
"A worthy foe deserves nothing less." His gaze grew sombre. "In another life, I think your partner and I would have been friends."
"Yes. I think so too."
Caelera almost snarled. How many atrocities had Verus committed for his blood titan to grow so large and powerful? The crimson giant was even larger than Doomwing, and countless defensive spells rippled into existence as it raised one hand to ward off a blast of flame so hot it would have melted a mountain. Even at a distance, Caelera could barely withstand the heat despite the residues of Ashheart's power protecting her. Doomwing had already been mighty at the end of the Second Age, but his strength now was far beyond that.
Great spires of blood lanced toward the dragon, and Doomwing retreated, impossibly agile in the air despite his size as scores of curses and spells raced after him, along with soul-rending magic and various astral techniques. The bloody rain that had fallen without ceasing for weeks was an attack in and of itself, but not a drop of the crimson fluid had touched Doomwing's scales. His telekinesis kept the air around him clear and batted aside the zombies, spirits, and other abominations that sought to entangle him. His evasion was certainly worthy of praise, but if all he could do was dodge, he would eventually be overwhelmed. And with Verus and his blood titan bound to the very currents of magic that flowed throughout the vampire homelands, even Doomwing could not hope to outlast the vampire despite his titanic reserves of power.
What would he do?
The answer was revealed a moment later.
In the scarlet gloom of the sky, there were ten flashes of light. Colossal stakes wrought of materials that Caeleria could not fully comprehend thundered down. Each was covered in countless magical inscriptions and imbued with sorcery of the highest and most complex level. The stakes drove themselves deep into the earth, and the blood titan with Verus inside it staggered.
"What is this?" Verus howled, voice like a storm. "What have you done?"
Caelera's eyes widened. With her magical senses, she could feel it. Those stakes had been driven into the currents of magic that flowed through the land and into Verus and his titan. They were acting as stoppers, cutting the vampire off from the power he had relied on to face Doomwing on even footing. Of course, stopping that gigantic flow of energy for long was almost impossible, even for Doomwing. But Doomwing didn't need to hold back the currents of magic for long. Yet to accomplish even this much... how long had it taken him to design those stakes, and how long had it taken him to make them? It wasn't without reason that Mother Tree had once said that Doomwing was her greatest student.
Cut off from the land and its power, Verus had no choice but to face Doomwing with only his own strength - and his could not compare to Doomwing's. Already, the blood titan's form was quivering as its body grew less and less cohesive.
"This is nothing." Verus hissed. "It will only take moments for me to break these tools of yours."
Doomwing had no intention of giving him that time. The dragon soared upward, high above the clouds, the rain, and the blood. Caelera squinted up. In her youth, she might have been able to see him despite all of the things hindering her sight. Now, she could only wait for his next move.
The sky broke.
No. That wasn't right. What broke were the great currents of power that flowed through the sky.
Somehow Doomwing had torn them from the heavens and heaved them down at his enemy. It was an impossibly powerful bombardment, a deluge of might that would not only devastate the landscape but also the flow of magic in the land as well. What would it matter if Verus could deal with the stakes if the currents of magic he relied on were destroyed along with the terrain?
Verus realised the danger almost instantly, but it was already too late.
Gigantic explosions rocked the land, and the blood titan vanished amidst the carnage as the rivers of magic flowing through the earth broke apart beneath the barrage, their own destruction only adding to the symphony of ruin that Doomwing had unleashed.
Caelera laughed. She laughed until the laugh turned into a cough and then into dry, heaving gasps. Then she looked up.
The sky was falling toward her.
Dimly, she felt a trace of Doomwing's magic sweep over her. He had sensed her presence. She turned to face the dragon, his winged form looming majestically over the increasingly devastated landscape. She smiled. And then, rather than close her eyes as death closed in, she spread her arms.
Her friends had waited long enough.
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