Chapter 203 - The Power of Wizards and Warlocks

Surprise bonus chapter! The next one just needs an edit too, so there should be another tomorrow.

Bud couldn’t take his eyes from the raging battle outside the House of Stone. Adrenaline rushed through him as he watched Anthony and his warlocks face off against the newly arrived Starick and his two companions.

The air was exhilarating. Magic lingered, spreading out between them so powerfully that even Bud could sense something was strange.

A warlock to the far left was the first to move. She dashed in fast, charging straight at Starick. Her speed was impressive, but nothing Celaine or Emilia couldn’t match. Yet this was not her power. Her face was contorted with whatever monstrous power it was the warlocks called upon, her human features skewed to look like something else. The woman stabbed at Starick with her spear, but the wizard simply raised his staff. The woman crumbled to the ground like a scrap of paper, collapsing in a heap with an echoing crunch. An invisible force pressed her down with such force that it compressed the paved road in a circle around her.

The air around Starick shimmered like stars. Bud’s breathing lessened, fear in his chest that he wasn’t used to. He’d seen men and monsters die. He’d seen Sir Roderick unleash his power against a mass of undead, and Countess Daston carve a troll to pieces with her moon-booned blade, yet the utter speed and power on display here shocked him. The warlock had been nothing before this wizard’s might.

“Wait!” Anthony roared. “Starick is mine.”

“You are a fool if you think so,” Starick said. “You face the full Order of Three Eyes this day, we are but the first.”

Anthony’s warlocks formed up around him, staying close. There was doubt in their eyes at the sudden death of their comrade. He could see them speaking amongst each other quietly, and feared whatever plan they were concocting. Could Starick’s trio really face thirteen warlocks? Bud frowned, eyes going to the body of the spear-woman.

Twelve warlocks, he corrected himself.

Blood-mist filled the area outside the House of Stone and Bud’s stomach twisted. A terrible force erupted in the air as Starick levelled his staff toward the man, scratching at Bud’s skin even through his armour. The air around him glimmered once more, power building.

“Get back!” Emilia barked behind him. “Quickly.”

He followed her retreating further into shelter, taking cover in the doorway of the meeting room they’d been in on their first visit to the hall.

“What do we do?” Bud said, scanning the hall. Corvin was in the room next to theirs, alive, but he was in no state to run. Hump had disappeared into one of the rooms over near reception, Dylan was somewhere on the other side of the Tree of Damnation, and he had no clue where Celaine was.

“Nothing.” Emilia grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back. “Stay in cover before something takes your head off.”

It wasn’t a second too soon.

One moment Anthony stood a dozen paces in front of Starick, the next he was beside the wizard, his body reforming from the droplets of blood that filled the air around him, emerging from the mist like a demon. The woman to Starick’s left came to his aid in an instant, intercepting Anthony’s attack before it could land. Her blade caught his with a boom like thunder. Magic gleamed, and the woman was blasted back, flying through the air until she hit the steps of the House of Stone. She screamed, falling onto her hands as she struggled to climb back to her feet.

Starick’s other ally was slower. He moved to try and help the wizard, but the warlocks at Anthony’s back bombarded him with their own magic, forcing him back and leaving Starick unguarded.

Yet those few seconds were enough. Starick’s spell came to competition with a flare of light before his staff, flashing brightly before condensing into a ball of purple energy. It shot forward as a deep purple beam, specks of white shining within like stars through the sky. Anthony caught it with him sword, but the beam erupted. Hundreds of stars exploded from the point of impact, spreading around the warlock, surrounding him.

Starick screamed, slamming the but of his staff against the ground with a roar resonating with pure power. The ground cracked. Power flared from the stone road. All at once, the star field around Anthony homed in on the warlock, flying at him from all directions. Explosions filled the space around him, each one echoing through the hall. All Bud could make out were the violet flames, so bright, Bud held up a hand to shield his eyes, peering out through gauntleted fingers. Within, he caught the shadow of movement.

Anthony danced with blades. His floating swords were a whirlwind around him, slicing and carving at every star that sought him. Smoke and blood filled the air, growing thicker by the second. It was too fast for Bud to follow. He considered himself a skilled student of the sword, but this was something else. It didn’t seem possible. Anthony wielded every one of his blades with intention, directing him around him to intercept… everything. When the stars finally seized, Anthony stood at their centre, face splattered with blood that was no his own, his clothes smoking but hardly damaged. He was breathing deeply, his eyes gleamed the same red as his swords.

The excess power alone almost knocked Bud from his feet. He stumbled back, calling upon his blessing to coat him in Armour of Ice. It lessened the impact as Bud stood before flying rubble and magic, shielding his face with his arm. He grunted as a blow struck him in the stomach, knocking the breath from him. Rocks tinged off his armour, magic blasted at him. He leant into it, desperate to remain on his feet, his sword ready for if any of the warlocks decided they were easy pickings.

Despite the numbers advantage, the practitioners held their own, though Anthony seemed enough to face them all at once. Anthony fought with such visage savagery, that much of the temple district that remained fell around him. Blood filled the air like mist. It formed and reformed, cutting at the three practitioners that had arrived, yet alone he was not enough. His ally warlocks were far from his strength, other than a woman that Bud took to be his second.

“Are you okay?” Emilia shouted over the noise from where she sheltered behind him.

“I can hold,” Bud said. “Have you seen Celaine?”

“She’s somewhere on the upper balcony. She’ll be fine. I’m more worried about Dylan. He’s caught behind the tree and the fire is getting fiercer.”

Bud looked to the druid, who had sheltered behind the burning Tree of Damnation, Hump’s gold and white flames raging around him. Dylan used his vines to shield him from the worst of the heat. And then Bud realised he was pointing at something. He followed his finger to the rooms at the back where Hump was hiding. His eyes widened as he saw magic at work in there, and… Eliana? What was Abraxus’ fellow inquisitor doing there?

And then he spotted Hump amidst the magic. Power rose around him so fierce Bud thought he was under attack at first. His heart thundered. For the first time staring at his friend, he felt fear.

“Oh no. Emilia!”

“I see it,” she said. “We need to get to him.”

Bud turned to her, biting his lip. He could barely stand amidst the storm kicked up by the nearby battle, Emilia would be swept away.

Bud shook his head. “Stay here. I’ll go.”

“I can make it,” Emilia argued. “You don’t need to go alone.”

Part of the wall nearby collapsed, sending bricks flying through the air. Bud raised an arm as shards of stone whipped at him, clinging off his armour.

“It’s too dangerous,” he said. “If I get hit, at least I might survive.”

“I’m faster. I can cross the distance before I get hit.”

“There isn’t time to argue. Only one of us needs to take the risk, and I won’t let it be you.”

He met her argumentative gaze.

Emilia clenched her jaw, but she nodded. “Go!”

Bud struggled across the room, racing between points of cover. Powder erupted from Eliana’s hand, showering Hump who collapsed to the floor, screaming in agony. Eliana tried to run, but Hump was upon her, hammering down at her with fist after fist. This was not strength he should have. Something was very wrong.

Hump stood once more, shoulders slouched, arms hanging at his sides, head tilted back. There was blood on his face, and he was smiling. Cold laughter escaped his lips, and Bud’s blood ran cold.

That powder—it had done something. Changed him. The power coming from Hump now was different. Black streams poured from him, and the sensation twisted Bud’s heart. He was not as attuned to magic as his companions, but even he could sense the dreadfulness in that power. The life. This was not power that mortal men were born to wield. There was a wrongness to it.

There was a blast outside and something smashed into Bud’s lower back, sending him to the ground. He landed heavily, rolling and groaning from the impact. He shielded his head as magic flew over him, sweeping up stones, carrying the heat of Hump’s fire. Bud’s heart raced at the sensation of such power, yet as it quietened and he glanced up, Anthony was already moving.

He sprang into the air, a red streak rising upward before spinning. For a moment, it was as if he floated in the bloody mist, his red sword held overhead, gleaming with essence. Then he descended toward Starick. A shield spell of some sort formed around the wizard, and Anthony landed on it, knees first. There was a deep crack, and the shield shattered, essence exploding from the broken spell like a gale.

He sheltered back inside the door with Emilia as the roof around them crumbled from the onslaught of magic.

Bud could tell that Starick was doing his best to avoid a melee fight, but Anthony was upon him. The wizard’s staff whirled, catching his blade and knocking it back, but more blades formed in the blood around Anthony, all of them coming for Starick at once. Somehow, the wizard kept them at bay. Shields erupted around him, his staff was a blur, miniature stars tore through the blood, and giant stones formed of rubble forced Anthony back in a hail of rock.

Starick’s companions fought valiantly at his sides—martial practitioners that kept the rest of the warlocks at bay. Behind them, Sir Roderick was nearing now. He heard calls amongst the warlocks for a retreat, and for the first time, Anthony appeared nervous.

“It is over,” Starick said. “Hand over the Seal of Osidum.”

Anthony shook his head, face twisting. “Never!” he spat.

He reached out with his left hand toward a warlock nearby, and a giant bloody hand burst forward. It grabbed the warlock by his chest, dragging him to Anthony, the hand merging with his own once more so that he held the warlock by the throat. The man’s eyes bulged with fear as Anthony suddenly released him, then using both hands like claws, he stuck them into the warlock’s chest. Anthony let loose a savage, inhuman roar and pulled his underling apart, splitting open his torso from neck to waist. The man’s eyes remained wide open. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t.

Bud stared in horror from the side as the man’s innards were exposed, his heart still beating. Anthony held him there, suspended by bloody magic. He clutched the man’s heart and crushed. A portal formed from the man’s body in an instant, appearing like a vertical pool of blood that was taller than a person.

Starick lowered his staff, the same pressure he’d used to crush the first warlock descending. Anthony raised a hand and a wall of blood formed above him.

“Go!” he roared.

The other warlocks had the same horror in their eyes as Bud, until the woman broke it.

“You heard him. Through the portal!”

They raced through, Sir Roderick quickly closing in behind. The warlocks were retreating, which left Bud thinking one thing. If Roderick or Starick saw Hump, they would know him for what he was—a warlock.

Staring at him, Bud understood that if Hump kept going, there would be no turning back. This power would either kill or change him. he had to be stopped.

Bud pushed back the sickness inside of him and whispered a prayer. “Kelisia guide me.”

She was with him. He knew it. He could feel it as power flowed through him. He directed it to his legs, channelling Frostfire Surge. He flew forward on an arch of flame, trusting in Kelisia to keep him from harm.