Chapter 686: True Demonlord [17]

Dulam's lance made contact, the sensation of flesh and bone being torn transmitted over the gauntlets; "-nice try," came a sudden reply, the head, of which hovered above the battlefield, shifted, half of the face was impaled, "-a substitution skill," commented Igna, "-else known as teleportation," they swapped places, "-must be hard to fight, dullahans have it rough," to that, the strongly armored horse neighed to a halt. The headless body stood still in fear of injuring its head; the latter, blinded to the right side and bloodied on the left, couldn't sense much, the connection to the outside world ruptured.

"Don't worry your pretty faces," he turned to the Valkyries, "-doth thee embrace death?" a damning question meant to challenge Bryva. The strong warriors glanced and rose their weapons, the disabled horses were killed and turned to the blood halo, the more blood there were, the fiercer grew the energy. Fear alone forced a sidestep from the attackers, '-there,' he smiled, '-no matter how strong they are,' he leaped with a sword in hand, '-my rusty body feels lighter and more agile, the muscle memories are waking. The longer the fight lasts, the better I get.' Swords clashed against hammers, war-axes, swords, and much more, the formation made for a circle, simultaneous attackers launched, blind spot or not, he had the matter in total control, *Spatial-Arts: Killzone.* An invasion turned massacre, the lovely sandy beaches were stained by the blood of the fallen. Each defeated fighter was thrown into a pile. The climax lasted around six minutes, Bryva stood alone before the comrades – the crimson liquid flowed for the darker sea. 

"Look at you," said she, "-dowsed in blood and without emotion," her fighting stance could barely qualify.

"I could say the same thing," he waited without inclination and faced the cloudy skies, "-I did it again," he spun and watched, "-I left a pile of bodies. What happens with the guardians of battle are defeated themselves, who takes them to their master, what happens, tell me?"

"I don't know," she painfully gripped her sword, "-one thing is clear, I must fight until I defeat all odds."

"Let's be honest," the sword sheathed, "-there but one-way thou art to win," *tap,* the blade disappeared, "-and tis for me to be unarmed. Here," he placed a hand behind his back, "-come, heroic warrior, prove the tales of old are true!" 

"Bastard…" she reached into the pile and tore a piece of cloth to bind her hand, "-I'll make you regret those words."

"No, you're not," her pace felt slow, her swing arrived at a snail's pace, '-there it is, the moment I've been waiting for. The vision of battle,' he nonchalantly shoved her sword over his head, her expression contoured into a berserker state, veins bloated, '-nice move to use her sword for a counter,' he sidestepped, leaned on the shield, and hopped over her head into her blind side, '-by the time she makes it,' *woosh,* the hand snapped to catch an arrow, '-someone's still alive,' he twirled, kept the momentum, and returned with an overhand right. Behind, the slow fighter just realized he jumped, her instincts to wailed her sword without looking forced another dodge, '-enough is enough,' she halted to none, "-you're done," he rested his index on her forehead, *-sleep,* an instant knock out. The greyness cleared for spots of sunlight, the sea's anger waned to a normal rhythm, '-its awakened, or reawakened, my eyes have adjusted to high-speed battles, tis the same when I fought before, everything moves in slow motion, my battle sense's back,' he side-glanced the bodies, '-so is the bloodbath.' The sand's unsteady nature made it hard to walk normally, the blood-soaked beach was a sight not for the light stomached. The halo joined into a crimson apple, *Crunch,* '-an apple a day keeps the enemies away,' he chuckled. 

Stem in hand and faced against the near-death Dullahan, "-black knight of an unknown continent, here an offer, say you've conceived this battle and I'll everyone to be revived."

"…" blood flowed from the half-destroyed visage; the helmet didn't do much.

"I know you're in there, stop acting like a child and give an earnest answer. You were defeated by a single man, which is a shame. The law of survival dictates the strong decide when the foe is to die, and I'm offering a chance to undo what was done. Say it be mercy or pity, I care not, for in my mind, what I've done here is nothing, the battle could have gone into a darker path – my allies itch to draw blood, they itch to harm, and itch to kill. Will pride get in the way of survival, will pride mar judgment, or will thee see the waste?" 

"W-w-we w-were d-defeated," all the strength-focused into speech, "-I-I-I l-live." 

"Finalized. Return to how it be, harmed be healed, and those dead, reawaken," a loud clap echoed into a pulse of transient energy, time halted briefly, *Conjured from the powers of which rules the law of nature, summoned to aid, mine quest art be left alone. Reality is as I dictate, matters affected in Mantia ought be reflected in the outside world. Realm Retraction Shadow Realm Variant – Rantiam.* 

*Clap,* another released the spell, the bodies hovered to their former selves, everything turned to how it was before the battle began. The ten Valkyries in exception of Bryva straddled their steed, reality buckled under his whim – the repercussion of said ability was non-existent. The invisible sphere tunneled into a vortex and hovered above his index finger in the shape of an orb and a ring. "How does it feel?" thundered a deep voice, "-how does it feel to experience death first hand, how does it feel to be defeated so easily without recourse to outside help, how does it feel?" the expression horned onto the knight.

"We yield," he dropped to the sand and knelt, "-Lord Haggard, you have bested us."

The others followed and knelt; the stern-faced Bryva couldn't accept the results. 

"Kneel," whispered her comrades.

"We were defeated, the ways of the warrior won't help thy cause," added another.

"Don't get a heavy head, the invasion was cowardly too."

"-Yes, it was cowardly," said Igna, "-what thee felt was what they felt, the table's turned, what will it be, fight and stand against me, who graciously allowed thy to live, or to take heed and follow."

"I didn't ask to be saved."

"Very well, a mule's best kept silent," the eyes narrowed, "-my patience has limits."

"She'll understand!" interjected Dulam, who forced her head into the sand, "-please forgive her misgivings, the lass is headstrong." 

"I've witnessed it first hand," he walked closer, "-Dulam and the valkyries, tell me," he knelt, "-raise thy heads and watch my gaze," they obeyed, "-what was the point of this invasion. I don't see supplies nor do I see a boat, was it a whim or?"

"You see," the head, of which was cradled by the headless knight, turned to the ground through the helmet, "-we were ordered to leave."

"DON'T!" interjected Brvya.

"Shut up," *Blood-Arts: Crimson Threads,* the lips sowed shut, "-don't overstep thy boundaries." 

"Before I go into details, can you please answer my questions?" inquired he nicely.

"Is it about how I revived all?"

"Yes."

"Quite simple really, the battle against the loud-mouthed Brvya provided sufficient time to erect an alternate dimensional barrier, in said realm, I become the sole ruler, what I say becomes reality, and reality is what I say. After I killed everyone, I simply forced my will onto the overworld and it kept the changes."

"You make it sound so easy…"

"Because it Is; in a weird way," he lean and sat on his bottom, "-the whole ordeal's over. Have the pegasi return home, the beach is a place for enjoyment, not a bloodied battle."

"Excuse me, I don't follow?" 

"Dulam," he stood, "-what I say is simple," he glanced at the valkyries, "-the battle is over, take a break and rest. The ladies can do whatever, just don't cause trouble. You and I need to have a little chat." 

The giddied expression rang true, warriors or not, after the resolution of a fight to the death is removed, what remains is true intent and personalities; a single glance spoke volume, their actions, and way of rebuttal, more than female warriors, they were friends.

"Igna, what's happening?" inquired Loftha. 

"Nothing much," he stared up to the cliff, "-I'll be using the beach, the threat's been dealt with. Hear me, don't allow anyone to roam around, I need to hear why they invaded, best to remove a man's weapon as opposed to having it be inherited by another. You know the old saying of teaching a man to fish, it's the same, with a twist, we get rid of the fishing rod and throw him into the pool to sink, a great idea isn't it?"

"You're a freak," she laughed out loud, the shakiness in her voice made an impact, "-thanks, I'm very grateful." 

"Keep the gratitude, I did my duty as the cousin to your sister-in-law. Take the others and rest well, a drone is on way to deliver medicines," the transmission ended. 

The landscape swapped, steeds were replaced for beach chairs and undergarments. Dulam and Igna choose to lay under the shade, once the armor was off, it told of a fair muscular man. The head rested on his stomach, short orangish hair, a very elegant mustache, and a kind expression, different from when he wore the black armor. The ladies took to the shore, some sunbathed, enjoyed a game of volleyball, or floated about in the clear lagoon. 

"I can't wrap my head around it."

"What's the matter Dulam, you feel weird taking a break?"

"Yeah, I mean, the breaks I'm used to is beside the bodies of friends and foe alike, the stench of iron and death is replaced by the salty nature of here, I- 'm overwhelmed." 

"It's obvious, the signs were there. Dulam, you and the girls were exiled. An invasion cut me some slack. It's a blatant attempt for provisions. Besides, the battle felt half asked, a sort of big production to scare instead of actual bloodshed."

"You knew…"

"Yeah, which is why I put on a show myself," he rose a glass of juice, "-the players got played. Tell me the story, what happened?"

"What you said was true, we were exiled to seek out another land. The invasion was partly true, we had to find a virgin land to occupy. Instead, we came across this continent, supplies were next to empty… you know the rest." 

"My concern is the invasion, is it recurrent or a one-time thing?"

"The latter. You see, the girls and I were troublesome fellows back home, we never saw eye to eye and were eventually ousted when famine broke loose."

"Makes sense," he exhaled, "-I'd have done the same thing, taking the higher moral ground won't be much. Brvya's not a bad person. Look at her expression, she's loving the time with her companions, very admirable."

"I don't know what to do next. We've come here without a place to return."

"How about starting a new life?" a brow rose, "-take it as follows, if there isn't a home to return, why not make one." 

"I don't follow."

"Simple really," he turned and smiled, "-you and the girls belong to me now."

"Sorry?" the expression froze, "-belong?"

"Yes, you heard correctly. Did you think I'd allow for enemies to frolic around the beach, no my friend, I gave permission because thine lives are mine to do as I see fit. Since I granted mercy, the ownership is mine, do you understand?"

"I do. We were kicked for not following the horde… nothing changed."

"Au contraire," he slid off the chair, "-serve me and I'll offer thee what was wished, a virgin land, a place beyond this reality, my domain, the Shadow Realm."

"An alternate world?"

"Correct, here are the options; kill yourselves or join my cause."

"Quite ruthless, don't you think?"

"You lost the right to argue, what will it be?"

"Mind if I discuss it with the girls?"

"As is wished," upon facing the sea, a rumble of chaotic proportion sprinted for their location, '-here it comes, the true boss.'