My armored boots made a metallic clang each time they met the polished stone floor. The prospect of the first free combat in months made Sa'tum Ghûr vibrate at my waist. The pale green glow that now escaped its scabbard bathed the light gray walls. Despite the good lighting, the corridor took on a ghostly air. To my right, the skeleton called Martin struggled to keep up with my pace without running.
"Martin, why are you still behind me?" I inquired harshly, turning my expressionless mask to face him. "Precede me and order those in charge to direct the dragon to the North Wing Combat Hall. Additionally, inspect the containment spells of the arena. Although woven by Morthos, ensuring the structural stability of the combat arena is prudent." The inspection was redundant, I knew well. Despite his apparent indifference, Morthos's spells were impeccable. The Shadow Archmage's personality, however, remained unbearable. Surely the inspection would reach his ears and be received as a personal affront. Good, I considered, a small retribution for his interruption.
"Yes, your highness." Martin bowed in an awkward reverence, trying to keep pace with my march. "Immediately," I saw him hastily conjure a dark orb, probably his familiar, and say something to the magical being that I couldn't hear. "With your permission, Sorcerer King," and he hurried ahead with clumsy movements. I extended my cloak of shadows to cover a section of the corridor, whose darkness contrasted with the paleness of the hallway, and conjured Alastor, my loyal servant, advisor, and butler.
"Majesty," he said, in a perfect bow before matching my pace, one step behind, as decorum demanded. "How may this humble servant be of assistance?" he asked, the movement causing his mask to shift slightly. The pale representation of his mortal features, less detailed than mine, still displayed the large, curled-tip mustache and the monocle sculpted onto his left eye, which along with the right were as empty as mine.
"My intention is to collect scale samples from a demi-dragon for Feyrot's research," I declared casually. "This will give me the advantage of moving my joints and dissipating my tension." Alastor nodded, adjusting the dark vest he wore over his collared shirt. I continued, "I want to use the combat time to catch up on the affairs of the Basic Sanitation Guild; you were in my office, so you must have seen the latest form they sent us. Give me the details of the troop movements of the kingdom of Balsur and the Cleaners' squads that will participate in the demon hunt. The last report of its appearance was in the Oestara Forest. Oh, also update me on the internal happenings of my, I mean, our Guild." Eight hundred and seventeen years had passed since we founded the Administrative Guild, but the use of the word 'our' still evoked strangeness. "Don't forget to inform me of the chronology, location, and nature of any irregularities that have occurred. My knowledge of this institution assures me that if something hasn't happened, it will soon."
We turned right down a corridor, leaving the central area of the inverted castle, and followed a staircase heading north. All of us liches knew how to navigate the fortress blindfolded. The same could not be said for other members of the Guild, especially the mortals. At the end of the stairs, I saw an archivist specter, somewhat ahead of me. He was Morwen's subordinate, if my memory served me correctly. The creature seemed lost in the corridors. When they saw me, their expression went from confusion to astonishment, then to fear. The ghost couldn't decide whether to raise the documents and let me pass through, which would be very improper with royalty, or to enter the wall, leaving their hands out, holding the paperwork. I saw them tremble, taking hesitant steps towards the wall. Then common sense prevailed, I thought sharply. I passed the archivist, my boots sounding indifferent against the floor, followed by the wooden sound of my servant's shoes.
Alastor, whose nose was buried in his own bureaucratic pile, hadn't even noticed the encounter. I must remember to reprimand him later. Unsticking his eyes from the papers, my butler said, "My lord, I already expected this to be the reason for my invocation. I have here a summary of the events, the most relevant documents included." I smiled an invisible smile; Alastor wasn't my top aide for no reason.
Ahead of me were the double doors of reinforced iron that led to the East Wing Combat Hall. Almost a meter thick, six meters high, and a three-meter opening, its weight was one hundred tons. The entire cold surface of the door was covered in frescoes of warriors of old and monsters, like hidras and maticores, fighting each other. Arcane glyphs were inscribed between the scenes of carnage, further reinforcing the structure. The reason almost anyone could open them was an enchantment on the handles, which reduced the weight while they were being used. Even through all that iron and magic, the guttural roar that came from inside passed through my form and made my bones tremble. My prey was agitated. Very good.
Opening the doors, I was faced with the already familiar amphitheater. The central arena, the stage for several light exercises like this one, was bordered by the stands. The oval space of 50,000 square meters was planned as a training arena for the guards and as an auditorium for the large cadre of servants and employees, but its main function was to be my leisure area. The central ellipse had dimensions of 215 meters for the major radius and 180 meters for the minor. Near the west side of the empty space was a huge winged reptile, with four legs and a long tail.
The demi-dragon was spectacular; its body was pure muscle, covered in scales the size of my outstretched hand, of an earthy red hue. It was 12 meters tall. Its yellowish teeth were the size of short swords, and dark smoke escaped its nostrils, giving the environment a slight smell of sulfur. Its wings, folded behind its back like a cape, hid its true dimensions, but I would estimate its wingspan at 65 meters. The colossal tail started thick and muscular and tapered into vicious-looking spines along its 10 meters, making the creature measure 25 meters in length. Its enormous paws ended in sharp, dark claws, the size of a greatsword. This beast, designed by nature as the perfect killer, would make almost anyone tremble. Almost.
The adrenaline I felt took me back to the hunts with my father, King Gulvar, during my second childhood. These almost forgotten memories resurfaced, along with the pain and regret caused by what would come later. The fight became more necessary than ever, to keep away that painful past, not that I would admit such weakness. I descended the stairs at an almost hurried pace, invoking Kaen, my oldest and most trusted general, on the way.
Kaen was a large man, even in the skeletal form of the afterlife. At his peak, shortly before he died, he stood 2.10m tall and weighed around 190 kilos of pure muscle. He appeared behind me and accompanied me to the entrance of the arena, his black and crimson armor clanking as he descended the steps. "My Lord, I am more than pleased to be called upon at any time; how may I serve you, Pale King?" he inquired, his mask turned towards me. It was made of a metal darker than Alastor's, with the jaw in a square shape and deep grooves on the sides of the mouth, giving him the same stern air he had in life. "Do you wish for me to be your partner in the challenge ahead?" I interrupted my progress and looked him in the eyes. "I will fight alone. From my general, I need advice. It has been a long time since I fought such a formidable opponent; I fear my technique may be… rusty." Despite my abilities, I had never been able to defeat Kaen in combat without using magic. His corrections would be extremely valuable. The enormous warrior hesitated for a moment, then knelt. "I am immensely grateful to be able to guide my master's combat once more." He said, with a touch of disappointment in his voice.
I resumed my descent without uttering another word. To say more would be a waste of time and a dishonor to Kaen's loyalty. I need to remember to prepare a grand hunt for him, i mentally noted. Reaching the end of the stairs, I drew Sa'tum Ghûr. The worn leather-wrapped hilt vibrated, as if reflecting my own excitement. The bright green blade had an almost spectral quality, capable of easily cutting through the most resistant materials. Not even the iron doors of the entrance would be able to withstand a direct attack. The pommel had ivory details very similar to my crown, ending in a point, forming an inverted teardrop.
The demi-dragon stared fixedly at me, recognizing me as a threat. Kaen took his position, beside Alastor. I raised my blade above my head and extended my arm towards the ground, making a diagonal slash. My greeting was made, but the beast showed no signs of understanding, let alone reciprocating. Its eyes focused on me, and its front paws stiffened; it was going to jump to close the distance between us. That would be bad, considering I wouldn't have room to retreat if I allowed it. I advanced.
Running towards the center, I rolled to the right at the last moment, while a red mass landed where I had been, looking like an avalanche. I got up in time to block the gigantic claw that came towards my torso. "Let's begin, Alastor," I spoke through gritted teeth. "First, Your Highness must lower your center of gravity more, My Lord," Kaen pointed out, while the dragon pushed me back, my boots leaving furrows in the earthy arena. "With which matter would you prefer to begin, my King?" Alastor questioned. I focused my strength and repelled the claws, describing a circle with the sword and landing a counterattack on the beast's wrist. My enemy snared in pain, as blood flowed slowly from the cut. "With the guild's events," I replied, catching my breath, "inform me of what happened during that excruciating meeting." The dragon inhaled: its next attack would be with fire.
I jumped under the dragon's neck, feeling the heat on my back, despite the brigandine that now smelled burnt. I had escaped the flames, but the proximity was closer than I would have liked. I heard Alastor say that the guild is operating at 93% efficiency—"... due to a flu epidemic that spread among the mortals", he concluded. I positioned myself below the colossal chest, preparing a thrust, but the dragon moved, making me pierce nothing but air, with the sound of a whoosh. "Treatment is being administered," Alastor spoke of the quarantine of the infected and medical certificates, but I didn't hear properly. I took advantage of the opening to target the dragon's chest with a slash, but the blade scratched the scales, sparks flying. Superficial, I noted with frustration; my blows were no more than paper cuts against this beast. Before I could change my stance, Kaen volunteered, his voice deep, "Put more weight on your front leg, commit to the blow; only then will you reach the muscle." I heard a rustling of leaves; Alastor was continuing the report. "We had peaks of instability throughout the east wing." While Alastor spoke, I moved out from under the beast before it dropped its weight on me. "The distortions occurred at regular intervals for an hour, between two and three in the morning yesterday." Following my general's advice, I applied a horizontal cut to the beast's flank. "The suspicion is that Room Two caused the instability," Alastor continued, shouting over the roar of pain. I would have to talk to Morthos about that. The memory of the Lich rekindled a fire in me, propelling me to jump and avoid a huge tail that aimed for my legs. "And what about the movement of Balsur's troops?" I asked as I propelled myself backward, claws like scythes passing inches from my metal face. My maneuver allowed me to keep my head, but I lost the advantage of proximity. The first clash came to an end, and we began to circle each other, looking for openings. "Don't become too defensive, Milord; you will lose the initiative."
I believe the demi-dragon heard Kaen's advice and believed it was directed at him. The monster decided that an aggressive approach would be ideal. I am projecting, I thought while parrying the beast's blow; projecting will get me nowhere. Alastor informed me that the caravan of soldiers had begun to march. "They should arrive before the Cleaners, in a week." Too early, I thought; they will be unprepared for the confrontation. My distraction cost me dearly. After I redirected its front paw, I was slapped with the back of the same. I flew for meters until I hit the wall hard, breaking the stone and raising dust. None of my bones were broken, contrary to the expectation of an imaginary observer. "You need to prepare for counterattacks, my King," my general shouted, as if he had felt my pain. "Stop underestimating your opponent." The advice was useful, perhaps even necessary, but at that moment, it only fueled the flames of my anger and deepened the wound to my pride. "Thank you, High General," I managed to spit through my teeth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kaen shake his head in disappointment. "Continue, High Advisor," Alastor shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Before he answered, I got up and launched myself against the dragon. "Three groups of elite Cleaners will arrive two days later, and another six throughout the week." I used my considerable strength to jump over the demi-dragon, leaving a gash at the base of its tail, deep enough to hinder its movements. The dragon snarled. Perhaps the charge isn't complete stupidity, I thought about the demon hunt. If the knights used their time to establish an outpost in the forest, they could turn the conflict into one of resistance.
That would probably be the best approach against a beast, so I decided to adopt it. I briefly scanned the muscular form in front of me, looking for tendons and joints to focus on. If I can make its movements more burdensome, I'll gain a long-term advantage. Slipping under the tail, I opened a gash on the beast's right thigh. "Excellent choice, Lord," Kaen exclaimed. Now I had a plan; I smiled to myself. "Which groups of adventurers did the Guild assign?" Alastor's answer listed, in order of arrival, the "Heralds of Dawn," the "Dragon Scar Legion," the "Council of Eternal Vigil," the "Obsidian Fists," the "Astral Blade," and lastly the "Hammer of Justice." "Isn't the last one the group that claims to have a heroine from another world?" I asked. Confirmation came when the dragon tried to take flight. Using shadow magic, I created temporary supports to climb an invisible staircase. Its wings were thin compared to the rest of its body, so Sa'tum Ghûr easily pierced the membrane, glowing with satisfaction at the bloodbath. My enemy crashed to the ground with a thud, raising a cloud of white dust that would irritate a living nose. It considerably limited my field of vision, although I believed I knew the dragon's location. "Their leader says her name is Akira; she appears to be proficient with curved swords, for her age," Alastor shouted above the commotion. I undid my supports and fell on top of the monster with my sword down, intending to pierce it. When I reached the ground, the dragon had moved, so my thrust pierced only earth.
"Tell me more about this 'Hammer of Justice'," I asked the High Advisor, unsheathing my blade from the ground. The dust cloud hadn't settled, so I couldn't identify the dragon's position. Alastor obeyed: "They are between 14 and 16 years old, all of them." I blocked a tail spike with the side of my sword at the last second, but I didn't have time to retaliate. Kaen's silence worried me, for some reason. "It is assumed that they are orphans of the war between Balsur and Kayaamat, unless we believe Akira's story." Their tender age did not match the rank assigned by the guild, even if being scheduled as the last to arrive. I jumped to the side, avoiding a bite from the gaping maw. Participation in this expedition would not be possible for a group without skills. "It is said that they won against the 'Heralds of Dawn' in a hunting competition last month," Alastor continued. "Milord, behind you!" my instructor shouted. I rolled forward, dodging a paw swipe that would have thrown me against the wall again. The monster circled me, using its tail to make me think it was in front of me — clever, I assessed. I turned to where the attack came from. The dust, settling, gave way to an orange glow, another blast of flame, and this time I have no time to escape. I used my cloak as protection and braced for impact. The heat was unbearable; I felt it through the cloak and radiating from the ground beside me. I couldn't smell the sulfur, so hot was the air around me. I rarely forgot that I was a Lich, but this was special; the heat made me feel suffocated, despite not breathing for millennia. I felt as if my skin and flesh, nonexistent, were melting, and my bones were on fire. Few things caused real pain to an undead of my level; this fire was one of them. I roared in pain, the sound reverberating in the acoustics of the underground amphitheater. Even Alastor, oblivious to the fight, looked at the flames that engulfed half the arena.
When the flame subsided, I was furious; my magical brigandine was scorched, my cloak of shadows was burnt, my sword vibrated with pure hatred, and my mask was partially melted, slightly revealing my scarred mouth with fanged teeth. Silence hung in the chamber as I rose to my feet again. The darkness of my cloak enveloped my form, like tendrils of pitch. Using the same spatial properties that allowed me to summon servants, I changed my attire. The light brigandine armor was replaced by a blood-red cuirass, with the crest of Vorlag in old gold. My leather gloves were replaced by black metal gauntlets with pointed knuckles, partially covering vambraces of the same color. The ornate shoulder pads, of scarlet blood color, overlapped the armor on my biceps, just as the elbow pads ended in spikes. My reinforced boots were now metal greaves with articulated ankles and knees, which met the end of dark cuisses that covered my thighs. On my head, where the mask and balaclava had been, there was now a sallet helmet, whose visor bore my furious semblance. My war helmet had been modified to accommodate my dark crown, even in the most extreme situations. My cloak had transformed into a shield as black as night. Its pointed U-shape, attached to my left arm pointed towards my hand, providing an instrument of defense that could easily be used as a weapon.
That's exactly what I did. I propelled myself forward with all my might, jumping towards the demi-dragon and landing a shield bash on its shoulder. Kaen let out a whistle of astonishment as the sound of breaking bones reached his ears. The intensity of my exercise graduated from light to Moderate. My opponent noticed the change in my disposition and tried to hit me with its tail, but the increase in my weight accelerated my descent, causing the blow to pass over my head. Reaching the ground, I lowered my stance and lunged towards the dragon's heart, but it moved, causing me to strike the side of my torso. "Continue, High Advisor; I did not order you to stop." Alastor straightened his posture, and Kaen released the stone railing, leaving small cracks where his hand had been. "Y-Yes, my lord," he said, composing himself, "Our information regarding the Cleaners' teams is limited, as the Sanitation Guild does not release details." The dragon limped now, its eyes fixed on me, searching for an opening. "Your right leg is very exposed, my King," Kaen said, trying to keep his voice neutral. As soon as I was warned, the whip of spikes came towards me, aiming for my opening. But I was ready and used Sa'tum Ghûr to sever two of the creature's spikes. Blocking claws with my shield and making another shallow cut on the wrist that attacked me, I said, "If the 'Hammer of Justice' survives the incursion, we will hire them to deal with the infestation in the sewers of Kayamaat Headquarters." Alastor and Kaen began to protest the idea. Kaen thought external help was unnecessary to deal with internal matters, and Alastor believed that inviting the group to Kayamaat would create tensions. I interrupted them. While severing a horn from the dragon that tried to bite me again, I said in a final manner, "The job will serve to test their abilities and the nature of their leader. Kaen, I imagine you would also like to exercise, correct?" He nodded, uncertain of where the conversation was leading. "Gather a hunting party and capture, alive, a lesser hydra. Smuggle it into the sewers of the Guild Headquarters to serve as a test." I managed to sever a hind paw of the dragon. Its cry of pain was deafening. The beast staggered backward, trying to gain distance. I saw its neck light up with fire once more, but it wouldn't have time to release another blast. I ran under its throat and, with a jump, opened its Spark Gland, preventing the ignition of the gases that would become flames. I disabled its most lethal weapon, I concluded; what will it do now?
The muffled growl of pain made its red scales tremble. I saw in its eyes what its next attack would be: a feint with the broken paw and a tail whip immediately after. I used my sword to impale the hand that came from the right, and positioned my shield to defend against the impact of the tail on the left. Surrounded by the enemy's limbs, I disengaged my sword and moved towards the bottom of the tail, shield touching the scales. My target was the cut I had made earlier, and with a vertical strike and my feet planted on the ground, Sa'tum splitted scales, muscle, tendon, and bone. With a dull thud, the tail fell to the ground. I wiped the viscous blood that dripped down my impassive face, ignoring the roars of pain and indignation from my monstrous opponent.
The fight wasn't over, I noted, when a block of stone came towards me. The creature had lifted part of the floor as an attack, using magic, no doubt. There was no way to dodge or stop the stone in time, so I wielded my shield and braced for the impact, pushing the enormous projectile upward and deflecting its momentum. It flew above me and hit the forcefield made by Morthos. I am not as well-versed in reading creatures as I am with people, but shock and disbelief on the dragon's snout were palpable. I slid back just over a meter upon receiving the shock of the rock, much less than the demi-dragon would expect for someone of my stature and build. I took advantage of the moment of confusion to tear its left bicep. "Press the advantage, Lord!" Kaen shouted, his excitement audible, and I accepted the suggestion. "When we are ready for the test, Alastor, assign a guide to the group. Someone competent and reliable to profile them," I ordered, while tracing an arc with my sword, opening a gash in the dragon's chest to facilitate a thrust to the heart. My plan was thwarted when the newly injured paw grabbed me and threw me away. I fell to the ground, dragging my sword to prevent it from sliding further. It's past time to end this jest, I thought. I jumped behind the dragon's head, grabbing the remaining horn with my shield hand. It thrashed and shook as if it knew the end was near. Driving my sword into the junction between its skull and spine, I ended the battle. A jet of hot blood spurted onto me, and the dragon's head fell. The demi-dragon's life ended like the flame of a candle that had been blown out. I jumped from its neck to the ground, heading towards my servants.
Kaen hurried to meet me, bringing a towel to clean the blood that covered me from helmet to boot, Alastor following and noting my orders on paper with the support of a small board. I accepted the towel and wiped my helmet without removing it. I took a moment before cleaning Sa'tum Ghûr, which vibrated with satisfaction. My shield returned to the form of a cloak to cover my body and return me to more comfortable attires. My neutral mask was restored to its impeccable state and once again covered my dead face. I opted for light fabric clothing instead of the typical armored appearance. A black tunic with red sleeves covered my torso and was secured by a hydra leather belt. It, along with wide leggings, would suit my desire for comfort. My soft leather boots, dyed black, were lighter, contrasting with the ones I wore when I entered. All the pieces were adorned with the Vorlag coat of arms in gold thread, including the balaclava under my crown. "I will send your orders immediately," said my advisor, but I corrected him, "First, bring a team to dismember and clean my prey. Also, send my sincere apologies to Feyrot's research department for having killed their specimen." I finally noticed Martin in the hall. He had been here the whole time; judging by the way he swayed, nauseated. "Martin, you will suffice for this task. Seek out Feyrot and convey my sentiments." I turned to Kaen before the servant could answer, "I would like a report on my performance, but at another time. Now I need some rest and time to assess our future options." Both bowed politely and followed me towards the amphitheater door and my chambers. I would use the recovery time to reflect on our next steps regarding the demon of Oestara and how to use Akira and the members of the 'Hammer of Justice' to my advantage. I looked one last time towards the arena and my hunt, absorbing the destruction and carnage before turning to the door and proceeding, my cloak, now more of a mantle, fluttering behind me.