Chapter 719: Pain

Chapter 719: Pain

Alexander Roth was no stranger to pain.

His parents deaths had dealt him a wound that would always cut to his very soul. McHarris, the Baker, had hit him more times than he could remember. Burn-saws blade left a deep scar on his flesh. Battles against greater demons in Cretalikon, and the Thameish church had wounded him in ways that went beyond physical pain.

Then, there was the Mark, a symbol placed on his skin that sought to drive him mad with mental anguish if he tried to oppose its will.

Alexander Roth was no stranger to pain.

This pain, however, was different.

Something was squeezing, wrapping around his soul, coils tightening. It reached down to his very essence, grasping Hannahs power, crushing it like an iron gauntlet around his throat.

His knees buckled, lungs reflexively gasping for air.

Father! Claygon shouted. Fatherare you alright?

The wizards mind reeled. He gasped for air.

Theresa screamed, drawing her swords.

Brutus bulk swelled as he encased himself in bone armour.

Something blurred between the trees.

Alexs eyes flew wide; a form clad in plate armour inscribed with holy scripture, and a white surcoat emblazoned with Uldars hand, was there. In one gauntlet, it gripped a blade blazing with divine power. In the other, a shield, painted with two symbols; the first was Uldars white handFindd new stories at novelhall.com

the second, the balanced scales of the Chosen.

The First Apostle.

And his sword was thrusting.

Time seemed to slow.

Alex watchedmoment by agonising momentas the blades point drove at his heart. The Travellers power struggled within him; his body turned, rolling from the blowbut, oh so slow.

Much too slow.

The point was mere inches from his chest.

Theresa struck, her blades slipping into the divine weapons path, her lips parted in a scream, cinched hair whipping behind.

Both swords of the Twinblade struck the First Apostles steel, scraping its upper edge, narrowly keeping it from its goal.

His blade drove lower, pointing downward, away from Alexs heart

plunging into his gut. A scream wrenched from the young wizards throat as steel sliced rock hard muscle, plunging deep into his body. The First Apostle grunted, twisting the blade, tearing it from the side of Alexs belly.

Agony and blood became the Fool of Thamelands world; his insides burned hot, yet seemed to freeze all at the same time. Snow turned from white to bright red where the wizard had collapsed.

Theresa was screaming. The twinblade seemed to shriek with her.

In a blur of fury and vengeance, the huntress leapt onto the First Apostle, swords flashing. His single blade matched hers blow for blow, his shield dancing in front of her strikes. Metal clashed with metal. Snow sprayed through the air.

Slash marks crisscrossed Theresas body as the holy mans blade struck through her guard. Wounds were dealt faster, deeper. The huntress clenched her teeth, but he was tearing her apart. Every strike came with blurring speed and divine strength; each blow rang like thunder, driving her back on her heels.

Brutus roared in from the side, three sets of teeth flashing.

The First Apostles shield swung out, slamming into a set of the cerberus jaws.

There came a crack of metal on bone and the cerberus-familiars claws paws hugged the snow, anchoring his body, driving the full weight of his spiked bulk into the holy leaders armoured form.

The Apostles sword snaked up, aiming for Brutus heads, but Theresa parried again, sending the blade wide, yet deep into the cerberus side. Bone armour blunted the blow, though the blade still connected, spraying red through the air.

Claygons war-spear thrust forward, but the holy warrior spun away, escaping the blow. Theresa slid along the snow to the First Apostles flank while Brutus circled his other side, then Claygon, the huntress and cerberus leapt on the ancient Chosen of Uldar with full fury.

Alex was growing colder, blood ran from the ragged hole in his body; fear reached into his spirit like tendrils.

Hed witnessed this before.

The Heroes, fighting against the First Apostle, closing on him from all sides. Harts might and speed, Cedrics power, Drestras draconic form aligned with Thundars magicyet things hadnt worked in their favour; theyd been no match for the ancient warrior of Uldar.

Hed ripped them apart, and was now doing the same to Alexs companions.

Theresa screamed as the First Apostle sliced a deep cut in her arm moments after leaving a gaping wound along the side of one of Brutus heads. It was only Claygon that saved them.

He was faster since his last evolution, his body was stronger, sturdier. Unyielding. The First Apostles blade and shield collided with the golems form, but they merely scratched the towering construct. There was a time when a single one of his blows had shattered Claygons body.

But now, the only damage that Uldars servant could manage to inflict was a scratch.

The power flared.

With a growl of pain, he touched Bjorgrund as Birgers hands pressed the wound, he teleported to Theresa.

or tried.

Hed moved only a slight distanceperhaps a half footcloser to the First Apostles deadly melee.

How is that possible? the Third Apostle cried.

Yeeeeeess! the Guide shouted. Now this is the quarry I was hoping for! I might need to step inOof, or maybe not.

The words of an incantation surged from behind the First Apostles visor, he fended off his three opponents.

Alex tried teleporting again, determined to reach his family, but moved only a half pace closer.

The First Apostle completed the spell.

A bead of orange light swept from the tip of his sword and arced toward Theresas face. The huntress flinched, sweeping her sword up, parrying the light with her Twinblade. The bead shot past her shoulder, floating behind her.

Her blade was too high.

Her enemys sword came down, slashing her legs.

Theresas scream travelled through the forest, ripping into Alexs soul, her trousers reddened, wicking fresh blood.

Brutus leapt forward, jaws stopping a follow-up cut aimed at her neck. The cerberushis armour cracked and bleedingclamped down on the First Apostles arm; Claygon drove his war-spear at the Chosen of Uldar.

Blast it! the First Apostle cursed, slipping under the golems blow, then kicking Theresa hard in the chest. Bone cracked, she sailed backward

into the bead of flame.

It exploded.

The huntress burned.

For an instant, Theresas form was replaced by a burning alehouse.

Noooo! Alex screamed, throwing everything he had at the interdiction with the Travellers power.

The First Apostle twisted from Brutus grip, rushing Alex.

Hannahs power struggled against the divinity it was facing. He pushed, again teleporting with Bjorgrund and Birger, moving past the First Apostle, appearing just out of reach of Theresa.

She writhed free of the flickering flames, teeth clenched, flesh scorched.

And grabbed his hand.

Alex teleported again. Grab onto meClaygon he thought.

The golem turned away from the First Apostlethe holy warrior kept slashing at his iron backgrabbed Brutus and touched Alex. Coughing blood and struggling to stay conscious, the Fool of Thameland teleported again.

This time a dozen paces away.

With a growl of frustration, the First Apostle leapt after them.

Alex teleported again, appearing twice the distance away.

We must go, holy leader! the Third Apostle shouted. We cannot risk staying any longer!

Retreat! The First Apostle ordered, but shoot them!

Arrows cut through the air, deflecting off Claygons iron body.

Alex teleported again, trying desperately to save his family and new companions.

He felt the grip of the interdiction slip from his soul.

Were pastthat circleof dirt Theresa choked, her skin smouldering.

The Travellers power flared again.

Alex teleported well away from the ambush.

Back to the fae gate, my lovely hounds! the Stalker called, a grin spreading across his lips. With a whistle, he nodded to the circle of Thameish earth. Sanctified soil shuddered, swarming from the snow, retreating through the fae gate with the holy warriors of Uldar.

The dangerous fae, with an untold number of names, sat atop his moose and rubbed his hands together. That youngster slipped away from us. But, theres something Ill tell you fine hounds; your Fool is my type of quarry! Next time, I might even get a chance to step in, oh yes indeed!

Together, he and the hidden members of Uldars church slipped away, disappearing back into the fae wilds.

Leaving behind only disturbed, red snow, spent arrows, and a grain or two of loose soil. The only remnants of the terrible battle that had just taken place.