 
# **The Mage, The Girl, & The Ruined City**

# (Arcane Advent #1)

## By: R. Kain

##  Published by R. Kain at Smashwords

## Copyright © 2013 R. Kain Fantasy

## Third Edition

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. The characters and events portrayed in the book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons—living or dead—is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

**Warning:** This ebook contains content that is considered unsuitable for those under the age of 16, due to graphic violence and adult language that may offend some readers.

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#  Epigraph

In even the darkest of times, light exists eternally.

Even though it may flicker and waver, it will never burn out.

Entrust to me your grudge and sorrow.

And I swear, under the crimson moon, for a better tomorrow.

#  Beneath the Crimson Moon

Amongst the remains of the asphalt jungle, the stagnant air whistled beneath the crimson moon. The wind began to howl a bleak tune as it flowed around and through the outcropping rubble, a cry from the city to mourn the loss of its citizens and its fall from grace. What was once a proud and lively city had been reduced to a ghost town, haunted by the coppery scent of blood so thick it was acrid, in only a day. A great number of people would fall ill if the smell could reach beyond the translucent barrier that surrounded the ruins,

It truly looked as though Mother Nature had unleashed its wrath upon the dwelling of man. If that were the case it probably would have been more acceptable. But, sadly, a catastrophe such as this was beyond nature.

This was the work of a human. A human who possessed ambition, casted aside their humanity, and embraced all of this as a necessary step in gaining power at great sacrifice. Yes, only a _mage_ would unleash Hell onto the unsuspecting populace for such gains.

In the end, the number of people still alive underneath the crimson moon could be counted on one hand:

There was the child. A young girl turned into a victim, who was nestled safely within reinforced walls of a small home. She awaited her savior with baited breath.

There was the architect of the destruction, the mage responsible for this nightmare. For the sake of his own goal he commanded the slaughter of tens of thousands. Now he awaited a challenge while sitting at the top of the sole remaining skyscraper, looking down at the destruction with a smile on his face.

Last was the avenger, the runic mage for survived against all odds from the moment the clock struck twelve. His bones ached. His flesh was torn. His mind was weary. Yet, draped in tattered black cloth he dragged his half-dying body across the land to avenge the fallen, a sigh escaping his lips as he moved along the deserted roads lined with debris and blood splatters.

His lamentation of the fact that his city had been violated and destroyed was heavy, only broken as a howl resounded throughout the air. It was a hunting cry, one that he had become intimately familiar with as of late. There was no more time for regrets as the enemy had come, death assured unless he fought.

An obsidian blur tore across the landscape and rushed forward at an inhuman speed. Low snarls crept from its throat at the scent of meat and the pulsing of fresh blood in its acute ears. The directive it had been given commanded the source of the temptation be devoured and, navigating through the rough and debris-laden terrain, it prepared to lunge itself at the runic mage.

Inhaling deeply he tapped into the reservoir of power that lay within him, a wellspring of magical energy. Surging through channels like blood through the circulatory system, the magical energy flooded his body and the change was near immediate. Pain was numbed, his senses sharpened, and his strength and reflexes magnified by multiple times to preternatural levels.

He shifted his body into a fighting stance and drew black steel into his right hand. His left forearm was held defensively at a right angle as the blurred silhouette closed the gap and bared fangs at the runic mage's throat, intent to tear it out. Magical energy gathered into the fingerless gloves he wore and shrouded it in a faint layer of wispy vapor as the spell left his lips. " _Algis!_ "

Light gathered onto his left forearm, shimmering as it took the form of a transparent shield of glass. At roughly a meter in diameter the defensive spell stood strong with an _Algiz_ rune engraved on the center like an emblem. The hostile creature slammed into the shield and was rebuked by solidified magical energy, followed up with steel flashing in a horizontal crescent and cleaving through flesh for the umpteenth time.

The creature was left in two chunks that eroded near instantly and scattered into dust. Nothing larger than a grain remained when the wind blew. Yet the runic mage's grip on his sword tightened and his legs slid back ever so slightly, the glass-like shield remaining fixed in place.

Enhanced senses told him five similar presences were prowling around him. He could hear the menacing rumblings echoing in chorus, their light footfalls on the broken asphalt as loud as galloping horses. His fight had only begun as the wolves had come.

With a shoulder height and length of over a meter, they possessed jet black fur that was spattered in scarlet. Crimson eyes matched blood-dyed fangs, leftovers from their unfortunate prey still present within the maws that reeked of the coppery scent. While they were hunters, they were not natural creatures or even modified ones, merely artificial imitations.

These creatures were a false breed of _familiars_ , servants of the one that created them through _magick_. The act of change was done through the use of ambient energy given off by the planet called _mana_ and refined within the body to produce magical energy. In other words, the architect of destruction was their master and thus he was the avenger's enemy as well.

The runic mage did not know the enemy's face. Who he was, where he came from, and what he wanted—all of it was a mystery to him. But none of it mattered in the end. The only thing that mattered was that he was responsible for everything, so he was the enemy to kill.

And these creatures were in his way, so he beckoned them forth. "Bring it!"

The wolf pack began their attack at the declaration. They split up, with the first two attempting to pincer him. The first would tear at the mage's flesh from the front while the second tried to claw at his back.

The mage spun using his front foot as the pivot point. His cloak billowed as black steel came around and severed the first wolf, dust in the wind flowing around him as the glass shield cracked upon impact with the second. He forced more magical energy into the shield until it overloaded, the breaching of the limit and rupturing of the shield outward with concussive force, and sent the creature flying until it was wedged into a jagged pipe and crumbled.

Still reeling from the mental backlash of destroying his own spell his senses briefly flickered as the last three wolves charged at him. Death rolled up his spine for a brief moment and muscle memory guided him into a front roll to avoid the pile-on. At the same time, from within his pouch, he plucked and tossed a shining red stone.

The stone, which had the _Kauno_ rune engraved on it, landed in front of the wolves. Establishing a magical link between himself and the stone, he pulled a mental trigger and magical energy surged. Flames ruptured from the confines of the stone and a fire tornado was born, spiraling into the air. It dragged the trio into the flames that devoured them into ashes that were scattered about, the grey rain as they gently floated down while the flames died a reassuring sight.

Tired from the short encounter as he cut the flow of energy from his dwindling reserves, the runic mage struggled between the desire to rest and the need to move forward. With the demonic energy stemming from the skyscraper hotel ahead, he decided to press on. He could rest when he was dead.

The runic mage's name was Leidolf—or Leid for short. He was a mage that specialized in _Runic Arts_ even though he was not of Norse descent. And, since he started moving and fighting, he had one goal left to complete: **Make the one responsible for all of this pay.**

#  The Curtain of Tragedy Descends

There were no signs of what was to come from Mother Nature herself. No one could tell that thousands would die in a matter of minutes with the sun shining above so brightly. The weather was splendid on that July 21st, only a quarter until noon, as if hiding the impending tragedy.

Leidolf turned in his sleep at the ambient sounds coming through the walls and windows of his simple home. Much like his social life since arriving at the city three years ago, it was empty. He enjoyed the comforting silence and solitude, rather than the clutter naturally found in the home of a bachelor his age. However, no matter how separated from society he was, Leidolf would have never wished for what was about to come.

The usual birds outside the window of his two-story home were chirping rather loudly that day and, after pulling an all-nighter, he was exhausted. With programming classes on hold for a few days, he burned himself out on an RPG without considering the ramifications. He was gamer at heart, and thus regretted nothing about the time spent, but for a moment he drowsily considered blasting the birds into ashes. Ultimately he decided against it because he wouldn't be able to stand himself if he did.

When the chirping suddenly stopped, the sound of flapping of wings making it clear the birds decided to leave quickly, it should have been the first clue. In his half-sleep state he didn't consider why the birds, which tormented him daily, flew away terrified. It was only seconds later that an abnormal pressure began to fill the atmosphere.

For Leidolf, whose body had been tempered and trained to handle and sense magical energy, it felt as though insects were crawling around on his skin. Minutes later the crawling turned into a sinking sensation that left him drowning in a crimson darkness, a thick mire that threatened to crush him alive from the pressure alone. Gasping for air, he awoke with a tight feeling pounding his chest.

He wasn't the only one under the pressure, as the sound of crashing vehicles and screams of terror came from all around the city. Magical energy from his reserves flowed through the channels inside his body to counteract the pressure being exerted on him. But even a stream couldn't stand against a sea, and that malevolent feeling was exactly that, a sea of malice and aggression being set free.

As soon as the clock struck noon the atmosphere became too heavy for him to maintain his consciousness. He lost all awareness barring the overwhelming negativity that surged out into the world, which turned blood red as his vision tunneled. With his final dredge of awareness, he recited a pledge: " _My castle stands strong against all outside forces. Let nothing enter against my wishes_."

Light ran across the walls of the building in a circuit pattern. Runescripts etched themselves in repetitive statements and sealed the domain with a snap as the realm shifted. The entire house became isolated from the outside, no filth or taint from the outside able to enter.

It was safe for him to pass out now and so he did, leaving Leidolf unable to hear the sounds of the terrified people being brutally killed as a barrier went up around the city. The sun was replaced by a crimson moon. Fierce creatures appeared from the inside of a towering skyscraper hotel standing at the heart of the city, a nexus that connected the outpouring malice and realm of mortals. They scattered throughout the land and air.

Earth was upturned. Concrete and asphalt coalesced into a humanoid gargantuan that came to life. Its purpose was destruction and it fulfilled that by using its mass to demolish everything within its path.

Wind churned madly. Touching down from the red skies above twisters descended to tear apart anything that wasn't nailed down and drag them into the funnel, where they would collide and demolish themselves among the debris. Within the heart of the largest one a silhouette could be seen flapping madly to maintain the winds.

Flames erupted. Conflagrations that could melt steel ate away at anything it could devour greedily and chased down anything that moved with zeal. There was no escaping, only an end so fast that blood flash-boiled as flesh was charred, leaving a spray of scarlet mist peppered with ashes.

The blood of the innocent was spilled across the city. Their souls were consumed by the creatures that killed them, robbed of the right to even pass into the afterlife and gates of rebirth. It was a merciless Hell, which the countless souls could only pray for a savior to end.

Forty-five minutes passed before the maelstrom of catastrophe stabilized. There was a quiet lull as the majority had been devoured. The survivors were scattered and being hunted down in silence.

Rising to his feet, Leidolf stared at the destruction that had befallen the city through the windows in disbelief. He told himself he was in a nightmare. Unable to accept the devastation, he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. But it was still there.

A myriad of emotions filled his heart and head as he rushed down the stairs. Curiosity and dread were the two most pronounced, fear a close third. Guilt cropped up after he opened the door, which had a bloody handprint on it from some poor soul who had tried to get help and was killed while he was unable to move or act.

Leidolf's pangs of guilt vanished when he sensed something prowling the area. It was a flicker of magical energy, breaching through the wards that were inscribed on the walls of his home. Closing the door he knew he had two options: Stay safe within the wards on his house or search for answers and survivors.

He wasn't a hero. He had no delusions about saving others while putting himself at risk. Self-preservation was every creature's primary concern.

_But sitting around here won't answer any questions,_ Leidolf reminded himself. Deeper within his subconscious there was a sense of necessity to his actions, a drive that felt he owed to himself to act. He too had been saved at one point from a threat he had no chance of surviving before. Now was the time to do the same for another.

Opening his living room closet he pulled open a false wall he built, with the help of internet instructions and some carpenter tools. Inside were his armaments: Fingerless black gloves, a pouch containing several well-polished stones with runes on them, a bracelet, a sword, and a cloak.

The gloves were _Taufrs_ —talismans that were used as a focus for his spells. They were primarily for _Gandr_ , which were external projection spells, and were thusly called _Projection gloves._ They had two separate spells sealed in them, one-offs that could be used in a pinch.

His cloak was midnight black with a cowl attached. It was more than just a fashion statement. On the inside lining of the cloak were several runescripts for protection. With it he could withstand heat, cold, physical impacts, and magical attacks that would leave his mortal body in pieces and invite death.

The black sword was a Japanese sword with a curved blade. In a more innocent time in his life he had a thing for the land of the rising sun and often practiced with a bokken, the wooden variant, so he was comfortable with using it. The blade had two _Tyr_ runes engraved on it, reinforcing the blade for combat.

The stones were called _Runestones._ Each held a magical charge and link with Leidolf, since he used his blood to consecrate them for over nine months. There were more but, due to circumstances, such as an incident involving a classmate and an old building fire that no one could pin on him, he had less than a dozen left. He would have to make due.

The bracelet was another taufr that had the _Uruz_ rune engrave on it. It gave him enhanced strength, healing, and speed, simply by forcing his body to its limit and beyond. Not that it wasn't risky, to say the least.

As the armaments adorned his flesh he discarded the persona of a mild-manner game programmer. To survive he needed to become something more. He needed to take on the mask of one who exploited the backdoor known as magick and walked through a world unseen by mortals.

He became a mage, abandoning the safety of his home and venturing forward to unravel the mystery of the crimson moon hanging in the sky.

Walking towards the middle of the city Leidolf noticed the newly made cracks, or rather fissures due to the size, which uprooted the asphalt and made it uneven. Blood was splattered and splashed across the landscape, the scent emanating from them permeating the air. Buildings had fallen onto the road as rubble that littered the ground, monuments built by man's hands reduced to nothing. All together it painted a nightmarish scene that rivaled an apocalyptic scenario.

While Leidolf thought about what created all of this destruction a screech came from above and drew his attention. A flock of black ravens were hovering over the area...no, they weren't ravens. Ravens didn't bare fangs.

They were imitations made to look like them. Their blood-shot eyes fixed on his flesh with every intention of dining on him, plucking out his eyeballs and tearing at his flesh to get at his innards and entrails. The patches of crimson staining their feathers made it clear that he wouldn't be the first to have such a fate befall him.

As they converged on the runic mage he felt their origins. They radiated magical energy, constructs that were driven by it with a directive to act. He knew they posed a significant threat to him if he didn't act, thus his right hand formed a two-finger gun while his left eye closed, so he could aim with the right one.

Then he recited the _Galdr_ , an incantation to awaken his foci and channel his magical energy into spells. " _The will of flames_ , _the mark of strength_ , _my words awaken the mystery that sleeps within you._ _Awaken!_ "

The _Kauno_ rune appeared on the back of his gloves proudly, responding to the words that represented Leidolf's truth. Magical energy flowed, senses sharpening as a portion was siphoned into the rune and fire danced at the tip of his extended fingers. The bullet of flames formed as it spiraled and Leidolf pulled the trigger in his head at the invocation of the spell. " _Cen!_ "

The hand bucked as flames took flight. One was joined by another, and another, and another. Black feathers that escaped immolation drifted onto the ground, constant practice ensuring that the shots hit their marks until none remained.

He picked up one of the feathers and sensed the concentration of energy that composed it. It was magical in nature, molded into a shape by human hands. However, the bonds that formed the feather broke apart nearly instantly, dissolving into a black and sand-like powder that scattered.

The runic mage wondered if they were the creatures he sensed before. However, his inquisitive eyes spotted scorch marks and claw marks on the broken buildings and remnants of structures. They weren't the only things wandering around. He sighed in resignation. "Just great..."

He learned that there were no bodies left behind as he finished scouring the local area for survivors...at least not entire bodies anyway. There were the occasional appendages, but nothing bigger than a finger or ear with excess meat attached. Thus he directed his gaze to the dome that surrounded the city, a defensive barrier that isolated and kept it from the outside world.

The bracelet talisman shone. Strength beyond limitations of the human body went further and augmented the very purpose of their existence. His legs became swift, outpacing even the apex of the savannah, his vision became borderline telescopic to keep sight of the land, and gravity was defied for a moment as every leap off a surface took him further away from the ground below.

Within mere minutes he reached the edge of the city, his heart augmented by the flow of magical energy pounding like a war drum to handle the strain as his lungs burned. Sweat left his clothing attached to his hot flesh as he looked up the barrier that consumed space from the land to the sky. The blood-tinted barrier offered a tainted view of the outside world, but stood as an unwavering bulwark.

The _Cen_ spell was fired numerous times. The barrier didn't block the shots; it absorbed them, like stones hitting water and creating ripples. The durability test proved that he couldn't break it with brute force at that level and his trump card needed to remain as such until he knew more.

_This is something bigger than what a normal mage could do,_ he figured _. It's probably being fed from a furnace, like a battery. If that's the case then the most effective way to break it would be to destroy the source_.

Even realizing that, he still needed to figure out _how_ to accomplish it since it felt as though something was covering the magical furnace from his senses. Without its destruction there was no victory to be had. Diving further into his analysis of the barrier, he drew another conclusion.

This barrier has an isolation function as well. It shifts the awareness of anyone within several miles to make them think the city doesn't exist. That's the only way all of this could have happened, but what kind of spell has enough power to block an entire city?

The world of magick was expansive and his rudimentary understanding was nowhere near sufficient to pierce any further into the mysteries of the craft before him. Nor did he have the time. His enhanced hearing heard growls stemming from around him and closing in.

Though they crept softly over the rough landscape, the wolves' arrival was expected as steel was to be found in the runic mage's hand the moment they surfaced. Jet black fur covered in blood made it clear they were hostile, his scent marking him as prey. The wolves charged forward, outnumbering Leidolf four-to-one, with every intention of using their superior numbers to tear out his throat.

The mage met them head-on, his knowledge of the actual creature the familiars were based on fairly vast as an admirer of the pack hunters. With the blade in his right hand he focused on his left forearm and began the next spell, calling forth the power that lay rooted in the underworld and refining it into a shield. " _Algis!_ "

Light swirled in dozens of sparkling streamers, coalescing into a shimmering glass-like shield that had the _Algiz_ rune engraved on it. Placing the shield in front to intercept the incoming claws, the blade descended diagonally with intent to slay one of them while he blocked the rest with shield. The pack split into two groups to escape the attack.

Rotating by using his front foot as a pivot he then fired the _Cen_ spell at one pair of wolves. The lunging flame consumed one hunter as the other dodged, only singed fur to show as curling wisps of noxious black smoke drifted upwards. The fact that he exposed his back to the others was of little consequence as it lured the hunters to his rear into a predictable act.

They sought to exploit the opening and lunged, while he sought to exploit their exploitation and spun with the blade and shield. Magical glass cracked as it met the muzzle and cheek of the one pouncing from the front, knocking it off target. Steel cleaved through the core of another, severing it into two.

The survivors fell back and took into account the loss of two of their pack mates. The hunters realized the mage wasn't going to go down as easily as the others they'd eaten. They faced a challenge of epic proportions, the most prized prey, and their tongues hung down at the thought of such a meal in comparison to everything else so far. He was succulent meat to be torn apart with their fangs and they were relentless hunters who valued the hunt over their own self-preservation.

With the increase in bloodlust Leidolf abandoned the notion of hesitance and charged. The movement spell that released flames from him feet jettisoned him forward. The space between the point where he left a smoldering footprint and the point behind the hunters was crossed as he himself became a blur. Destruction was marked by a flash of black steel as the ashes of the fallen creations scattered despite the absence of wind.

With the immediate threat taken care of he fell to his knees. The burst of speed courtesy of the _Flame Step_ spell had drunk deeply from his energy reserves due to overshooting the spell's power, another mark of his immaturity in his craft that had to be corrected. He needed time to recover some strength, but such a thing was a luxury that he lacked as the light of the crimson moon was blocked.

The shield was raised and his body was tensed for the impact on reflex as the rubble turned into a projectile nearly swept him off his feet. The shield crumbled as the impact was redirected at the expense of an augmented and strengthened arm being dislocated, the strengthened bones fractured and piercing his flesh. Leidolf screamed in agony as his mind briefly flashed white, before sweat rolled from his brow as he faced the source of the projectile.

It was a colossal creature, standing several stories high, with a humanoid body made of stone, asphalt, and concrete. It had red eyes that seemed like finely cut rubies, scarlet crystalline spires protruding out its back. Its sole purpose was destruction and the damage to his arm was a best-case scenario for the surprise assault.

Leidolf ran at top speed to get away from the creature the instant his senses snapped back from the pain. There was no victory to be had if he faced it now. His agility let him avoid death as rubble crashed down like a meteor shower, escaping its range and finding a bastion to hole up in as the mind-numbing pain from his arm left his teeth gritted.

The amount of blood he lost was significant. Anymore would be fatal. Gathering the last vestiges of his willpower and fighting through the pain, he invoked the taufr bracelet once more and the strength of the proud aurochs surged within him as it illuminated the building with a proud, orange glow.

The runic mage estimated roughly fifteen minutes before the arm was healed, the bolstering of his body's natural functions only capable of so much at his level of inexperience. Bones would snap into place, flesh and muscles would sew themselves back together, and blood would be reproduced faster than naturally possible in order to compensate for what was lost. However, the minutes would only seem like an instant the moment his awareness faded.

Sleep took him without remorse.

#  Wild Flames Dance

The world was charred and ashen, the acrid scent rising from the scorched earth and volcanic soil choking the runic mage as he inhaled it thickly to compensate for the lack of oxygen within his lungs. Fragile trees were burned charcoal-black and crumbled the moment anything touched them in the land where wind never whispered. The ground was parched and eager to drink anything, including the fresh blood that flowed from his open wounds, as the occasional lava spout added to the heat that distorted everything in sight.

Leidolf imagined that this was what Hell looked like as he wiped the blood from his eyes with his remaining arm, cradling a broken sword. With his skin scorched black all over his failing body begged him to stop. But he refused to listen to it in lieu of another presence speaking to him.

" _Why_ **,** " spoke a monstrous voice. " _Why do you hesitate, human_?"

Hidden in the shadows was a large, bipedal figure wielding two weapons. It demanded an answer from him. " _You've attempted to slay me many times and suffered just as much. So why do you hesitate now if you seek this blade?_ "

Leidolf felt as if the world was spinning, barely able to stand as his legs trembled under his own weight and begged for mercy. Ignoring the agony he forced himself forward and charged as the figure swung the weapon in its right hand down and fire burst from underneath Leidolf, consuming and eating away his last vestiges of life as the world melted away in a sea of molten red and orange. Beyond the red he heard a scream...and realized it was his own.

The change in the scene was abrupt as Leidolf snapped awake in his living room. His flesh was marred by burns of various degrees, the damage he sustained in the charred and scorched world that existed in his mindscape somehow reflected upon his body in reality. Yet he was satisfied that he still had both arms at the very least.

"It looks like you failed again," said a man who rested upon Leidolf's couch, smoking a cigarette. His tone was so flat that he may as well have been discussing the weather and his face was fixed with a bored expression.

Leidolf promptly called him out on it. "It's your fault! If you hadn't set the defense program on it so high, this wouldn't keep happening! Do you know how long it takes to heal these injuries!?"

The man's reply held the same disinterest as before. "To obtain what you want, you must be willing to go through the trials that await you. Power can only be grabbed by those who are willing to brave Hell for it. If you want more power, if you want to never again be in a position that would have you begging for mercy to creatures that have none, surpass the trial of hellfire and claim it with your own two hands."

### ~~~~~

The world snapped into view as the dream of the runic mage's past ended. His bracelet was cracked heavily, so fragile it could break with the next use or three, and his body felt heavy as he stood on his own two legs. Yet he felt refreshed in that he could continue to fight. That was enough for the moment.

He decided he would continue his search for survivors. While he doubted anyone could have survived all the devastation on their own, he had nothing else he could do. Not until he dealt with the giant golem and destroyed the magical furnace fueling the barrier that was keeping him caged within its confines.

The bastion was abandoned as he ventured beneath the crimson moon and avoided the surface horrors by using the now defunct subway tunnels. The residential area could be reached from there. An optimistic voice in his head brought forth the thought some survivors took refuge within their basements or attics. It was a frail hope at best, but better than nothing.

" _Bal._ " The phrase set his raised hand alight with a pale and passive flame that seemed to struggle against the vast darkness, illuminating everything near him. He navigated along the tracks that no longer functioned as he continued forward and realized belatedly that coming down into such a realm was a mistake. Darkness was all around him, the pale flame forced to stand against the vast emptiness, and every step he made echoed within the confines of the enclosed space.

Primal fear wavered in his heart, an instinctual emotion in the face of such circumstances. He did not fear the darkness itself, but he did fear what lurked within it and his breathing became pronounced as paranoia set in with madness soon to follow. The need to run and leave the darkness was proven right as the feather-touch feeling of magical energy brushing his senses. Leidolf was not alone in the tunnel.

Magical energy briefly flared up and the flame broke off in order to float above him. The process repeated itself. Soon there were six orbs of flames hovering around him like Will-o-Wisps that followed his whims and expanded his view. Further ahead the pale light caught a fleeting shadow passing by in the air, alerting him that something was flying within the darkness.

The revelation left him cursing himself as magical energy sharpened his senses further in preparation for conflict. He was too restricted to move effectively against an enemy that loitered in the air. Escape was no longer an option either as he had come too far to escape the beating of the wings that were soft enough to be near silent to his enhanced hearing. He had to act before it was too late and they reached him.

From his pouch he pulled a runestone the hue of fire and engraved with the matching rune. It was flung forward as he tucked himself into a fetal position and nestled himself within the confines of his enchanted cloak. Soaked in his blood for nine months and tainted by the rune of flames, it housed a conflagration that yearned to be unleashed. The moment he sent a magical charge into the stone through the blood link, the limitation was surpassed and the payload was unleashed. Roaring flames howled as they spanned the length of the tunnel, the enclosed space filled to the brim with searing flames that were just as quickly snuffed out.

Leidolf relit his hand and looked over to a burning object ahead of him that managed to retain its shape. It was a bat with the same color scheme as the birds, a conduct system for the magical energy that fed into them designed in a red circuit pattern running from its back to the tip of its wings. The assumption he came to was that they were given the directive to deal with anyone trying to hide in the tunnels.

Bats underground, wolves above, birds in the sky. The optimistic voice in his head was silent as he faced the truth. There was little chance anyone was left by now.

Emerging from the train station at the end of the tunnel the stale air smelled burnt as he finally reached the residential area. It looked similar to the business-orientated part of the city, except there were townhouses rather than lumbering department stores. They shared the same condition however.

The houses that lined the streets were no longer fit for human occupancy. The neatly sculpted bushes and well-maintained lawns were charred black and smoldering, lingering flames curling the shrubbery. Traces of magical energy that stemmed from familiars lurked around, dissipating as he methodically dealt with those he encountered.

Leidolf was just about to move on when magical energy and flames flared to drown out a scream. The feel of grease on his skin from burning flesh and the smell of cooked meat filled him with dread as his bracelet shone, illuminating the fissures in the material as he defied gravity and witnessed a gruesome and terrifying sight.

Sprawled on the blackened asphalt were two corpses, limbs twisted as the heat warped the bone and melted flesh and cloth together. Behind them was a child who desperately crawled away to escape the four-legged creature that hid itself within the confines of an undying flame. Her sorrowful screams for her parents were so loud they reached the mage above as stinging tears ran from her reddened eyes. She watched the corpses be taken into the maw of the creature, unable do anything as it gorged itself with audible crunches of their bones and meat, fully aware she was next and couldn't do a thing to save herself...

It was then a streak of blue flew towards the walking inferno as the runic mage descended with steel in hand, like a vengeful angel dressed in black. The blue runestone that represented _Laguz_ ruptured, gathering the condensation in the air and unleashing a torrent of water directly on the creature. Steam billowed as the flames died and revealed the charcoal black lizard-like creature that twerked in agony. The black blade lined with runes then sunk into the tough hide and an inhumane cry filled the air.

"DON'T JUST SIT THERE AND GAWK! RUN!" Leidolf screamed to avoid having his voice drowned out.

The message carried. Long hair ruffled as tiny legs took the sole survivor to safety. From behind a bulwark, she watched the clash between one who surpassed the limitations of humanity and one crafted by amoral hands to devour mankind.

Black steel left the hide and then plunged in again. Small sprays of liquid the color of ichor leaked from the furrows, followed by rasp cries. The stout tail of the creature came from behind and met with the mage's broad back. The impact was diffused through his defensive enchantments, but the force ejected him and the blade from its backside.

Leidolf skidded to a stop, ignoring the stinging ache around his spine from the blow as he took up a stance and assessed the opponent he faced.

Shaped like a Komodo dragon it towered at around five feet tall, and twelve feet long if you counted its tail. Howling with rage, its yellow eyes stared at Leidolf in fury. Black scales began to burn with a hotter intensity than before as steam rose and the moisture that drenched it sizzled. The _Glutton of Immolation_ reignited its inferno and unleashed a stream of flames that consumed the street.

The ground seemed distant as Leidolf took to the air once again and watched as the intense flames went unimpeded. Lampposts and hydrants alike radiated a golden brilliance before their forms were lost and twisted, the spouting water of the hydrant superheated into a steam explosion that carried him further as his flesh felt the sting of heat that threatened to boil his eyes had the hood not sheltered them. The runic mage realized that even with his flameproof cloak wouldn't survive more than a few seconds of direct contact with flames of that caliber...

However, compared to the hellfire that tempered him within the confines of his mindscape, it was nothing. Overwhelming odds presented a myriad of solutions if you thought outside the box. Thus there was an opportunity for victory in the face of what seemed impossible.

Landing next to the cracked and steaming pavement on the nearest building, he breathed in the horrid fumes rising from beneath his footing within the wavering air. The only sounds were that of the superheated street cooling through audible crackles and the near silent hiss of the creature that matched his breathing. He allowed the first act to be determined by what passed for the creature's mind.

The standoff ended as it threw itself towards him with speed that one would not expect from a being of its size. The building was engulfed in flames just as he abandoned it and took purchase on the burning earth. The glutton then turned to face him within the blaze.

He didn't flinch as the creature that dwelled comfortably in the flames took a deep breath, preparing to unleash its supreme conflagration again. From his pouch an ice blue runestone with the _Isa_ rune engraved on it was drawn. He imbedded his sword into the ground to free up his hand and awaited the proper moment...and then the angry flame was unleashed and the air _screamed_ as it was scorched.

" _Power that lies rooted in the underworld, become my shield! Algis!_ " The fully chanted spell summoned the shield in front of his outstretched hand. Magical energy had coalesced into an adequate defense. Closing one of his eyes, he gritted his teeth and braced for the impact as the all-consuming torrent met the unyielding bulwark.

The world within the span of his vision was whited out the moment that contact was made. The heat bloom that could have peeled the flesh and muscle from his bone from the convection alone was kept at bay by the cloak. Not that he didn't feel it as the very air he breathed in was consumed by the blaze that washed all around the shield, the force carrying them beyond the scope of the mage's power and consuming every structure and object behind him.

His shield cracked from the pressure, the edges melting and the heat expanded the fissures further as it bled through. Magical energy was expended to mend the damages and keep the shield whole, lest he was immolated. The cycle repeated, destruction and restoration continuing until one of the two gave in first.

The glutton was driven by the commands of the one who crafted it. 'Consume anything living' was the order it was bound to. As a false familiar, a mere mockery of a true familiar, it shouldn't have had anything like emotions. So, why did it experience something akin to anger towards the person who wouldn't yield to its flames?

Unable to tolerate the existence of the man who stopped it from devouring the child and wouldn't allow himself to be devoured, the creature began to hate his existence. As its flame breath died down, it decided to unleash all of the fire it could muster in its next attack. Even if it would drain it of the very energy that kept it tethered to existence.

And so, the counterattack had begun.

Leidolf defied common sense, flooding the shield until its form was lost as the threshold was surpassed by three times the limit. The overload made it rupture, a directional blast of forceful pressure that dissipated the dying flames prematurely. The feeling of his mind breaking from the backlash of overloading his own spell called forth the desire to fall into the black absence of unconsciousness, but the adrenaline coursing through his body in conjunction with the flux of magical energy tethered him to the waking world.

Instead the runestone was flung into the creature's gaping maw as it readied another breath, and an explosion of white and blue frost gave birth to jagged spikes of ice. The glutton was violated and perforated from within as the running ice was stained with the ichor of liquefied magical energy that fueled it. The flames that were birthed from its body were violently extinguished as the encroaching ice swallowed the scales and left nothing untouched. Unable to move, unable to act, unable to sustain its form or feed, its death would come within minutes.

It wasn't fast enough for the runic mage. Steel was removed from its asphalt pedestal as the bracelet shone. Limitations were surpassed as the fissures in the taufr spread. Scales were smashed and viscera cleaved through as the creature's core was destroyed in a single stroke, and frost and ash scattered in a billowing wave as the skies above crackled from the death of the apex creation.

The barrier was upheld by four pillars that framed the energy given off by the furnace. Three more would need to be vanquished for victory to be within hand. The nightmare had an end that could be seen beyond the boundaries. All he had to do was reach it.

Reinforced convictions gave him the strength to move his weary body and forgo rest until he could find the child. He remained blissfully unaware of the person lurking outside the confines of the barrier, having sensed the abnormal energy that fed into the dome...as well as the call that was made as a result. Soon the events would spiral beyond Leidolf's control and drag him further into the world of magick. But there was no avoiding it.

No chance at all.

#  Howling Winds Riot

The death of the Glutton of Immolation, the pillar of flame's destruction, nearly split its master's head apart from the feedback. The architect of the destruction, a mage who could be traced to an organization that spanned ages named Armel, let loose a choked scream as he awoke. Blood followed, seeping though the fingers fixed around his mouth, and dribbled onto the velvet couch in the penthouse suite. His craft had a price and, the creation of the pillars that served as the guardians and frame of the barrier, had entwined them intimately.

Flashes of the battle that had claimed his familiar's existence flowed into his mind as the transference of the souls and blood harvested trickled into the magical array, overlapping the multi-layered seal at the bottom of the hotel. It had been buried beneath the earth originally, raised through his craft under the orders of his superior. The conclusion he drew from the battle was that it was a mage who slew his creation.

The process of creating so many false familiars, as well as giving them a directive to follow autonomously, had drained him of every ounce of strength he had. Even using foci that were crafted specifically to accomplish such a task and taking stimulants to replenish his reserves of magical energy, the sleep had only restored roughly fifteen percent of his energy. The rest was tied up in maintaining the surviving false familiars.

The presence of the stray mage was a boon and a bane. No organization had claimed this land as their domain to operate in, so he was an unknown factor that belonged to no one and nowhere—a stray mage without lineage or a leash to bind him. Thus he would prove to be a fitting sacrifice as well to awaken the extra-dimensional source that lurked beneath the array, his flesh, bone, and blood permeated with magical energy offered up to the seal via the remaining pillars and hunters.

### ~~~~~~

While one mage plotted the death of the other, the child stood at the side of her hero. That was what Leidolf was to her. Because the moment he appeared she saw something she hadn't seen since the sky turned red: **Hope.**

Standing amidst the flames, with his black cloak billowing while concealing his face under the cowl, he radiated a strength that was dark but comforting. Watching him from afar and nearly being blinded by the flaring flames, she witnessed him confront the flaming creature with abilities that surpassed human capabilities. He was a superhero who earned her innocent admiration.

Now the pair stood in front of two makeshift graves.

Despite his weariness he dug into the scorched dirt around the child's former home and placed what remained of her parents inside of the graves. The dirt was packed in tightly and covered with heavy stones and debris to prevent their corpses from being desecrated further. It was the best he could do at the moment out of respect for those two who lost their lives protecting their daughter.

Weeping over the loss of her parents, the child held dearly a stuffed bunny that they got for her birthday in her arms. Within her grasp she could clearly recall the events that occurred before the crimson moon enveloped the sky. She had just woken up, her light pink hair messy from tumbling in her sleep, her father getting ready to leave for his job, and her mother planning to take her to the park to play in an hour.

It was just a normal day in the life of a normal family before the barrier went up.

Once it did and they were overwhelmed by the crushing pressure, they could only watch in horror as creatures appeared from nowhere and attacked. They were lucky enough that they were able to hide when the pressure died down and blood was spilled in their place. But their luck ran out when the flaming creature appeared.

While Leidolf finished making grave markers for the dead he just stood there with a sad look on his face. Children should never have to bury their parents at such a young age. Kneeling in front of the graves, he made a silent promise. _I shall watch over the life you saved at the cost of your own._

After he was done he stood tall once again and spoke to her. "We can't waste anymore time. The chances of finding anyone else are nonexistent. I'm taking you to my place for your own protection."

The child had no complaints. Her home was gone, reduced to ashes. Her life was much the same, the only links remaining were her name and the treasure she held close to her heart.

The runic mage's ears perked at the sound of paws crossing the land in a hurry at that moment, closing in from all directions. Too much time had passed and the battlefield where fire and ice met was only so far away from the grave. To fulfill his promise and avenge the fallen he would venture into battle once more. "Stay here, child."

Her tiny head nodded once and she sat on the burnt soil, while a runestone was drawn and tossed in front of her. The decree he recited in a foreign tongue released the stone's power and a holy land was erected as he ventured forward, light blossoming in an all-encompassing dome that enveloped the child and the graves.

At the child's feet was an _Othala_ that staked the territory as the mage's. By his order, nothing would cross the threshold unless he willed it. With the child safe, his blade was drawn and his empty hand was filled with flames as the hunters arrived in mass to feast.

Driven into frenzy by their orders, they would throw away their false lives for the sake of their master. Just as well, driven by righteous determination and a promise to himself, the runic mage would do the same. Claws met steel. Fur met flames. Fangs met fabric-covered flesh.

Surpassing human limitation alone would not suffice in fending off the current number of mad beasts at Leidolf's present level, as his body could attest to. The road he would have to take to reach such a level was one that led to the distant horizon and could not be reached for many more years to come. It was a gap that was not easily traversed.

To fill in that gap as much as possible was the reason he carried enchanted items, and amongst the most valuable were the stones that carried the mystery of runes engraved upon them. Runestones that drank his blood for nine months were capable of generating fiery explosions, barriers, and deluges. Unfortunately the number of stones was limited so he couldn't use them recklessly. He would remember to stock well in the future, should he survive.

The steel in his hand felt heavy, even though the runes engraved upon it would ensure it never dulled. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen as he continued his breathless rush to dwindle the number of hunters further. Lactic acid building in his muscles made it hard to move as he pushed himself harder and harder with his unenhanced body to deliver killing blow after killing blow, hoping to save his remaining energy for an emergency should he need to convert it into stamina.

Flesh could be mended and death could be staved off as long as one had magical energy and their head attached. Running on empty before he reached his home and could recharge was tantamount to death. So he bit down the pain and fought the exhaustion creeping in as though it were another enemy to defeat.

The pack died slowly but surely. Even so, their cumulative efforts to bring down the mage had not been in vain. Even with the protection of the cloak, blood was trickling down his arms from the constant clawing.

The child watched on as, struggling to the very end, Leidolf cut through all of them after being driven to his breaking point. Seeing her hero kneeling on the ground, covered in sweat and blood, filled her with dread. She was tempted to leave the barrier to go to his side and moved towards the edge of the light. But, before she passed through it, Leidolf threw himself through the boundary instead and took sanctuary within the territory that had been claimed as his own just as a death gale swept through the land.

Churning winds howled as they touched down in a massive funnel. Black feathers blanketed the land in an abysmal blizzard. The windstorm that announced the arrival of the pillar of wind died down to reveal its majestic form.

The _King of Carrion Eaters_ that dwelled in the raging winds had descended, with a cry that resonated throughout the sealed land. Bloody eyes narrowed at the puny mortal that refused to kneel in its presence within the protective shell. Wings that blocked out the radiantly somber light of the moon above cast a shadow to all beneath it, before summoning the sovereign's gust to eradicate the defiance in the runic mage's eyes.

Incoming death stood before them. People do not fear the gale upon their backs, but facing it head-on makes them realize the true terror that it holds. Facing this terror, the child dropped to her knees and cowered, praying for help, as the runic mage fought off the desire to do the same.

The gale screeched as if the trumpet of heaven sounded, debris and rubble engulfed along its path riding the wind with deadly velocity and becoming its weapons. The child's resulting screams were suffocated as the sanctuary was grated by the shearing winds that could tear flesh from bone and eroded the world outside the runic mage's own. Only when the disturbance died down did the wind become lull once more.

The switch was instant as magical energy coursed through his body once more and Leidolf stepped out of the sacred realm of protection. The bracelet shone radiantly a final time and warm relief flooded his body as the injuries healed and weariness melted away. Filled with renewed vigor he dashed towards it.

It would be seconds before the winds could be turned into a wall of death once more. Seconds the ruler of the winds knew it did not have. So it raised its wings and primed its arsenal, feathers gleaming like murderous daggers. Like a black rain of arrows from hundreds of archers, countless feathers were launched as Leidolf continued to run forward.

He fought down the urge to return to the safety of his barrier. Cowering in the face of impending death solved nothing, nor did praying for a miracle or a hero. In the end, the only one he could rely on was himself and he would not bow against the winds or arrows before him.

Steel as black as obsidian flashed as it cut down the arrow along the path to the ruler of the winds. The billowing cloak became tattered as the distance was crossed. A runestone that held the power of the sun found itself in the runic mage's freed hand and was thrown. Mere moments later radiant light blossomed and robbed the unworthy king of its sight.

The child watched the birth of what could have been a newborn star, the sanctuary dulling it so that she had no reason to avert her eyes. Then she watched as flames engulfed the massive fowl that took flight. Her eyes couldn't, however, make out the runic mage ascending as well while bearing steel in one hand and a white-knuckle grip on its plumage in the other.

Foul smoke trailed the rising firebird thickly. Its feathers burned as the ravenous flames consumed them without mercy, giving off endless curls that were black and wispy, coalescing into the plume that choked it. A screech rang out as an augmented swing of the sword by the mage clipped a wing. The gargantuan fowl that laid claim to the sky fell to the earth below with a massive tremor.

Dust and dirt rose in a cloud and shrouded the child's view for a solid minute. Her anticipation and fear mounted as the veil slowly cleared. It was just in time for her to witness the final moments of the King of the Carrion Eaters.

Leidolf stood with his blade held high, standing over the creature's massive neck as the shattered remains of his bracelet taufr fell on the cracked ground. Steel was swung and liquid splashed up onto his face with a sickening squelch. Ignoring the agonizing warble of the creature he raised the blade once again and, with his shaking arms, struck it again, and again, and again.

After the first four times black sand had taken the fowl's legs and eroded the tip of its wing. It would be dead soon enough. But the blade kept descending to cleave through the stout neck, to hasten the process. Only once it had been beheaded completely did the steel slip through Leidolf's weakened fingers.

His vision began to fade as the world seemed to spiral endlessly. No longer able to feel his flesh he didn't realize he fell to the sands that covered earth in the wake of his victory. His consciousness left him without his realizing it as well, leaving empty eyes staring into the sky that ran wide with fissures. Within the sea of memories that his subconscious mind took refuge in, the hammer of a gun sounded and he recalled the meeting that changed his fate.

### ~~~~~~

Was it mere chance that Leidolf met that man who he would call Master? Or was it fate that he would meet him on that night years ago, under the new moon.

Restless energy drove him deep into the woods of the local park as Leidolf ran, the sound of countless crunching twigs alerting the wildlife that roamed throughout the labyrinth of trees. He wasn't sure why he ran, but it was the sole desire in his mind. Unnecessary thoughts only faded away even more the further he went into isolation, the compulsion to run only fading away when his legs could no longer move him from his muscles burning in agony.

Leidolf found himself in the thicket with a gaping hole in the canopy as he felt the atmosphere freeze in place. There was an absence of warmth, a chill that seemed to suck the life out of everything around him. There was no sound, not even a cricket rubbing its legs without pause. It was complete isolation through abnormal means.

He felt death run up his spine after that and wanted to run. His instincts were screaming that he would not survive if he remained there. He wanted to escape the forest that held within it his death.

The eerie silence was abruptly broken by the sound of twigs snapping. Something was traveling through the maze of trees, multiple enigmas coming towards him at a glacial pace from all around. The horrid scent of rotting flesh assaulted his nose, the silhouettes hiding in the darkness nearing ever more and swaying as if drunk. Barely audible and garbled moan escaped from the figures as, stepping into view, they revealed themselves to their prey.

_Not human,_ he realized instinctively as he witnessed the monsters, wearing decaying human skin, closing in. The flight or fight response kicked in but, staring into their eyes, he felt himself being dragged towards the undead as the world tilted back and forth.

His mind snapped back only after he averted his gaze, the distance now too close for comfort and the urge to fight taking hold. There was a thick branch by his feet. It quickly found its way into his hand and he strained his muscles to swing it at the closest one's body.

_Crack_ , was the sound of bones being broken. The thing in human flesh didn't as much as grunt in pain. Instead, a smile was working its way across its face, revealing stained teeth as it lunged for his flesh.

Leidolf pulled back in time to avoid the bite as he recognized what he was dealing with: **Zombies.**

Something that should only exist in videogames or movies was standing in front of him with a sick grin on its face. It was wrong. So wrong that simply being near it told him that it was a perversion of the natural order that ruled this world—an unforgivable abomination that had to be purged.

The thoughts ceased when the zombie lashed out with its hand. It should have been no more than frail bones and decaying skin, but the blow was fast enough that the thick tree limb in his hands barely intercepted. The sound of splintering wood was announced with a sickening crack as the wood was torn from Leidolf's hands in pieces, pain lacing the digits from heavy blow.

He knew that instant that if that strike had landed on his head, it _would_ have killed him. Leidolf wanted to take a step back, but the others were on his back now and he would be overtaken if he did. So he lashed out at the one in front of him, raising his leg into a kick that came around in an arch and connected with the creature's head, staggering it. He took a split-second to be grateful that all those martial arts lessons came in handy and then dashed past it to get away from the death box...or at least he attempted to.

He felt a sharp tug on his leg and looked to see as another zombie had lunged for it with its hands and caught him. It was a woman and the smile on her face sent shiver up his spine. The monstrous groan it gave afterwards was the last thing he remembered as gravity was defied for several meters, inhuman strength sending him on a one-way trip into one of the larger trees to tenderize him for the undead feast.

Agony radiated throughout his mortal body as an appetizer to revenants. His left arm was fractured on impact, with the bone was protruding from his skin. The scream that escaped his lips served as the dinner bell to the ravenous creatures that sought to feast on his flesh while it was warm. He wanted to stand, but his body wouldn't listen to him, leaving him to their mercies.

There was none to be found as the shambling dead crept forward, drool escaping from the confines of their lips as they cornered their prey. Body and soul would be consumed, warm meat in their rotting stomachs to fill the void as they quenched their thirst with his blood.

The fear of dying encroached upon Leidolf, eating away at his other emotions. There was no escape. Pride left him at the thought of a meaningless death at the bottom of the food chain, where no one would know he existed. He broke down and begged for his life.

The zombies paid his words no mind. Food was only meant to be eaten, not reasoned with. The gap was closed as they spread to divvy up which parts would be feasted upon...and blood-red eyes met with Leidolf's at point-blank range.

Strength left his body quickly. The sensation of having his soul torn from his body at the gaze was surprisingly calming, as though gently being pulled out of a bed. There was a haunting peace as the maw of the creatures grew closer and his vision tunneled. The world went seemed to vanish in a void of darkness...

Then there was light, the sound of a chain snapping preluding the emergence of something else from within his near empty shell. Two chains tethered his soul to his flesh, before dragging it back into his body where it should have been, and a radiant figure stood before him in defense.

It was a phantasmal existence. Prismatic mist took on the form of a wispy woman clad in armor and brandishing a spear. The weapon that had no physical existence drove the living dead back as it shone as bright as day in the moonless night, repelling the walking dead and keeping them at bay. But the mist would fade away soon enough, the warden emerging from within as an ephemeral means of prolonging the inevitable.

But it was enough as gunshots rang out and signaled the changing of the tide, decayed flesh punctured and impregnated by the occult-made bullets.

Fire blossomed and the living dead burned, their death throes ringing through the night air, as salvation in the form of man descended from above. He landed in front of the figure born of mist, a frowning face and piercing eyes illuminated by the burning glow of a lit cigarette. A customized revolver engraved with runes on the barrel occupied his hand.

The prismatic mist shifted once more, sensing the taint upon the man's soul that marred him as one who committed an unforgivable sin. Just the same, the man recognized the warden that guarded a fragment that shouldn't be allowed to escape. After having felt the isolation spell snap into existence by non-mortal hands and investigating, he now found himself a chance to alleviate what haunted him.

"Let's make a deal," he said as he removed the cigarette from his mouth and breathed out a ring of smoke. "Remove this curse caused by one of your own and, in exchange, I'll do what needs to be done."

" _Teach him,_ " the mist-born figure whispered. " _Train him...and the sin will be wiped away..._ "

The man merely bowed before the figure, whose formless spear touched his shoulder. The contract was established as runes were engraved upon his very soul, right over the taint that dwelled there, and would be purged once it was fulfilled. No further words were expressed as an understanding passed between the two.

Leidolf's consciousness was pulled from the abyss as the mist faded back into his flesh and soul to return to its duty. The feel of a warm hand slapping against his cheek snapped his eyes open, the stinging sensation a blessing and a curse in that he knew he was still amongst the living. As he struggled not to vomit from the putrid scent of burning flesh, Leidolf asked the man, "Who...are you?"

"Don't close your eyes again," the man ordered abruptly, forgoing introductions. "Don't turn away from what's happening this instant. After tonight, your life will never be the same."

The words barely registered before the man aimed the revolver at Leidolf and pulled the trigger faster than he could react, panic not even setting in until four shots rang out. To the north, to the south, to the east, to the west—four runes were engraved upon the earth and erected a pyramid of light to cage him inside. It was comforting, relief flooding his body as the pain melting away. Most importantly, he felt _safe_.

"The barrier will keep out the rest of the filth as it repairs the damage to your body and soul," the man said before he put his cigarette in his mouth once more. Left unsaid was that a chain once snapped could not be repaired.

One of the three fetters that held back a great and primal chaos was gone at the tugging of his soul, sacrificed in order to prevent the fragment from escaping. Whatever force laid a compulsion on Leidolf to run, and then crafted the barrier isolating him within the death trap, had deliberately tried to do so. But there was no need to inform him of the burden he bore. Not now. Survival was all that mattered.

Leidolf didn't know if he was too tired to argue against what he was witnessing or simply accepting the situation as it was. A human's ability to adapt was quite something. But the man's choice of words disturbed him. "What do you mean 'the rest'?"

As if fate had a cruel sense of humor, numerous eyes opened all at once at that and the living dead stepped forward slowly. Their numbers were easily in the double-digits, an overwhelming force against one man brandishing a single revolver. His efforts would be like stone thrown against a surging wave of death and decay.

Leidolf, who had yet to venture into the arcane arts, tensed as the overwhelming odds rattled his shattered pride further. "What the hell...how did so many zombies—"

"Draugar," the man interrupted. "Zombies are a fundamentally different type of creature. These are closer to Ghouls, much smarter and far more dangerous."

Leidolf looked at him incredulously, before snapping. "Fine, draugar, whatever—how did so many get here without causing a riot in the city!?"

"They were born from the newly deceased in the city and driven here to wait until you came. I'd say there must've been a large number of missing people recently reported on the News," the man said blithely. The life he'd lived was one where such tragedies were commonplace and the tone of his voice indicated the slaughter of dozens of people didn't bother him in the least.

In fact, the sheer calm the man exuded made Leidolf look at him incredulously. "Are we seeing the thing? Because I don't think a six-shooter is going to help here!"

The man _still_ didn't look concerned at all as he flicked open the cylinder of the gun and inserted six more bullets, made of glass and crushed bloodstone, into the chambers. Fear was nonexistent in his eyes. Instead another revolver appeared out of thin air and into his free hand. The causal talk then ended as the runes on the barrels of the revolvers shone.

The change was abrupt and instant. Gone was the man, the mage now taking his place as he charged at the swarming numbers. The cigarette was spat out towards the vanguard, the glowing butt flaring as he whispered, " _Kenaz._ "

The entire cigarette was consumed by flames that drew in the oxygen and dropped the temperature. It elongated to form a slithering, living flame that descended upon the horde and swelled until it ruptured into a conflagration. Wood and earth refused to hold the magical flame, but the walking dead were perfect fuel.

Holding the guns out, the mage rapidly fired at those that tried to close in from the right and left. Every glass bullet scattered its payload as the trigger was pulled, the crushed bloodstone laced by magical energy turned into manifestations of the elements. The moment the chambers of the revolvers were emptied, new bullets filled their place by the same art.

Buckshot made of flames sparked into holy fire that purged the rotting flesh, no smoke or ashes remaining as everything was consumed, even the flames themselves. Pellets of ice drew in moisture as they flew and became skewers that impaled many, invasive frost quickly enveloping them before shattering without a trace. Darts of darkness made anything they touched vanish without a trace, limbs and heads claimed by the void.

Leidolf watched on in awe and misery, both meshed so well they were indistinguishable from one another. One man was holding back—no, _smiting_ would be the proper word for it. The man was smiting the living dead, as if it their existence was a sin, while Leidolf couldn't even defend himself and had to rely on luck to save him. A literal miracle and the whim of this man were the only reasons he was still alive.

By the time the last draugr fell, the tree-laced grounds looked as if they were torn apart by every natural disaster in the book. The gun-wielding mage raised one barrel to the sky and a shot rose to the heavens like a shooting star until it hit the boundary. The isolation spell shattered in the wake of the barrier-piercing spell woven and nature could be heard once more. The signs of the battle restricted to the domain that housed the living dead were gone without a trace as well.

The pyramid of light sealing Leidolf flickered out of existence. His injuries were gone and he felt somewhat refreshed, in body more than mind. He stood up to confront the mage. "Who...no, what are you?"

Banishing the guns from whence they came, the man brought a new cigarette to his lips. The tip lit without any visible prompt and the orange glow illuminated his face within the moonless night once more. "Just a man who's committed an unforgivable sin...but to you, I'm your new master. Rejoice."

"Master?" he asked in confusion.

"For my sins to be absolved I need to train you so that you can take care of yourself," he clarified. "Such is the promise that was made."

Leidolf didn't know what he meant. But, recalling everything that happened, he knew one thing. The man was offering him power.

Power so that he could prevent this from happening again. Power so that he would never beg for his life again. Power so he would not need a miracle again.

He _needed_ power, even if he had to make a deal with the devil to get it. "Fine, you have a deal. My name's Leidolf and I guess I'm your new student."

" _The Descendant of Wolves_ ," the man said, before he chuckled at the irony only known to him. "That's a fitting name for you."

Leidolf merely took him at his word. He himself had no idea what the name was. It merely came to him in dream and resonated with him, a method of distancing himself from his past. He embraced it and discarded his old one to never look back.

Turning his back on his student and prompting him to follow, the man only had one thing left to say. "Let's get started right away."

Thus the student and master had met, forming a bond that was created in less than a year and would last a lifetime. It would be a grueling nine months under the man's tutelage, but Leidolf studied and trained harder than he could have ever imagined. So he would never have to rely on miracles and mercy again.

#  Crumbling Earth Scatters

Empty eyes blinked. The scene of the ruined city came into view through the filtered sheen of a barrier, tied to the runestone and able to draw from its own reserves. Recognizing his handiwork, Leidolf wondered how he ended up inside the sanctum of the dome he raised before the battle.

The question was answered as pink hair came into view. Despite the risks involved, the child left the safety of the barrier to drag his heavy body and sword away from the pile of black sand before the hunters found him while he was helpless. There was nothing else she could do but that. There was elation in her eyes as he awakened, but the moment he met her gaze he also recognized self-loathing and hatred within.

It was the curse of being powerless to do anything, forced to rely on a miracle.

He silently mused that perhaps she had it worse. Her parents died for her. The injuries he sustained to this point were to protect her. In the end she was still nothing more than a child and had no choice but to rely on others to survive.

It had been said that people only understood what they needed to do when they've hit rock bottom. The fact that they were both saved by the simple factors of timing and luck left both feeling what it was to be truly powerless to save themselves or others. For Leidolf, all he could do was train to become strong enough to survive whatever came his way, content with the lives he saved in the past and present. For the child, who was too young to understand what she could do, she cried and allowed her tears of sorrow to trickle down her dust-covered face.

As he felt the warm drops touch his skin, he looked past the sanctuary and towards the spreading cracks that made the sky seem like glass. It looked so fragile, as if a single stone could shatter it. He raised his hand, hoping to reach it and end this nightmare, but his arms couldn't stretch that far. He was only one man with a little power.

But what he could reach was the head of the crying child next to him and run it back and forth. She was living proof that this whole struggle had meaning. That the life his master saved was one that saved another once more.

"Calm down," he said, his tone even. "Crying is for once we're safe."

She stifled her cries as he stood, holding back the choking anguish to follow his commands. Wiping her eyes she joined him on his feet as the sanctuary of protection dissolved and he pocketed the stone.

Leidolf sheathed his blade and kneeled with his back to the child so she could climb on it, which she did so without question. Standing on his own two feet once more, the runic mage ran with the child mounted on his back. The sole remaining bastion beneath the crimson moon was his home and, if he made it there, then the child would be safe. He repeated that train of thought endlessly he continued to move, until an innocent question broke the mantra.

"Mister Hero, why did this happen?" the child asked.

"I don't have anything concrete," he said honestly. All he had was a simple theory but, considering the circumstances, he told her what he knew. "If I had to guess, this was done by another mage."

The word wasn't in her vocabulary at her age. Unable to find an answer within the confines of her mind, she looked to him for a more detailed answer. "What's that?"

"A mage is someone who does magick like me," he explained. "Someone who takes in the ambient energy given off by the world and converts it to something that's more pliable, and then brings to reality something from it or do something ordinary people couldn't."

She understood most of it. He was like a superhero. "Why is someone like you hurting people? Aren't people with powers supposed to be superheroes?"

_The ignorance of youth_ , Leidolf thought as he debated what to say next. It was good for a child to be clueless sometimes, but now wasn't one of them. While he would hate to rob her of that innocent ignorance, it would probably save her life. "For starters, my name is Leidolf. Or Leid for short, but please don't call me a hero. A hero wouldn't have let something like this have happened."

To Leidolf, a hero had to be someone who could stop all tragedies from occurring and could save everyone, just because it was the right thing to do. A hero was a person who did as much as they could, even if they put their own life on the line, and asked for nothing in return. His standards were too high for someone to be called a hero—including himself.

It was an illogical ideal to him since people were born with the notion of self-preservation. Even if someone like that existed, people would never accept them. Doing so much and asking for nothing in return births suspicions, which matures into fear, and fear eventually breeds hate.

Leidolf saved the child because he wanted to help someone out of his own personal wish, not because it was the right thing to do. His master saved him out of a contract to alleviate a debt upon his soul. While they may have done heroic things, they weren't true heroes to Leidolf.

He continued destroying the foundation of her ignorance. "And in the end, power is power. What someone does with it is their own business since, at the end of the day, the only person you truly have to answer to is yourself. The mage responsible for this won't stop until their goal is accomplished. Right or wrong isn't an issue here."

Being so young, the explanation was above her head. But she knew one thing. It was that he spoke with conviction.

An inquisitive look towards the sky allowed Leidolf to gather his thoughts on it. He estimated about two more pillars remained, and one of them he met already, so it wouldn't be long now. But before anything could happen he needed to regain his strength. He needed two hours of rest and recuperation at his home, where he had catalysts and tinctures designed for that purpose, so he'd be able to fight effectively again.

Otherwise he ran the risk of using his own life-force to fuel his magick and killing himself without accomplishing anything. Not that he feared death if it made a difference, but dying pointlessly was unacceptable. His _Runic Arts_ followed the principle of sacrifice, the willingness to give something up for a greater purpose, and while he was willing to sacrifice his life for a greater purpose he believed in, he treasured it enough to keep fighting.

It was then Leidolf blinked the realization and muttered, " _Sacrifice_..."

Pink hair shuffled as she tilted her head at the sudden shift in his expression. "Huh?"

"Sacrifice," he said again, louder. "If you take into account the number of people killed and eaten, I'd say he's collecting it all for some ritualistic sacrifice. It's the same principle as what I do, although I only sacrifice my blood for empowering my runestones or equipment."

His thoughts went further. _This many lives lost for a sacrifice, blood and bone and souls, yet none of them leaked from the creatures upon death as they dried up and turned to dust. A magical pass must be transferring them, similar to how I can link to the runestones remotely. If that's the case, there must be a line to follow thick enough to trace it._

He stopped running and closed his eyes. Opening his mind and senses, he meditated on his feet. He never went this deep into searching for traces of foreign magical energy, but he knew there was something there, beneath the pillars that fed the barrier. So he delved deep to fish for the lines that passed along all of the energy that was transferred...and was met with a resistance so alien that it threatened to consume his mind.

Pure malice and hatred formed an outpouring surge that swallowed the passes that dwelled beyond...no within the barrier, lacing it into one source that was filtered and stabilized. Flooding his senses, Leidolf recognized instantly that it was neither mortal nor benevolent in the least. There was something else in this city besides the mage and his creatures, something that was _really_ mad at him since the destruction of the pillars fed back into it and destabilized it.

"Mister Leid?" the voice of the child reached him and pulled him out of the trance, sweat covering his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied. There was nothing she could do about it, so telling her was unnecessary and would only add more complications. Instead he started telling her more about his magick. "As I was saying before, my magick primarily consists of using runes and empowering ordinary equipment and taufr for combat, using my blood and creating a link between me and the objects. Since the runes are already aligned to their own element and purposes all I have to do is pour in the energy necessary to get the results I desire...most times. I'm not really familiar with other systems of magick."

"Was it hard to learn?" she asked precociously.

Leidolf laughed a little. "Yeah, I learned how to do the basics from 'a man who committed an unforgivable sin' so to speak, despite the fact that he was forgiven in the end...I think. He taught me over the course of nine months and then I kept studying by myself since he left. I'm twenty-one years old now, so it's been roughly two years since I learned magick."

"Why did the man leave?" she asked. "Wasn't he your teacher?"

"He...left a note shortly after I inherited the cursed blades by completing the trial installed in the first one," Leidolf told her, while sadly looking ahead. "To put it bluntly, he said that he couldn't risk hanging around too long after wiping his debt or his pursuer would find him. While the taint on his soul had been cleansed, _she_ would not forgive him for it regardless."

Leidolf recalled the many hours of meditation, concentration, and effort he put forward into hellish training because of that man. In order to become strong enough to never find himself in a position of helplessness again he worked relentlessly. His master, in turn, found somewhere to hide from his pursuer and found happiness in training a new apprentice as the burden on his soul was lifted and cleansed.

The man, who never told Leidolf his true name, said that one day his pursuer would eventually search for the three cursed blades he passed down to Leidolf. It may have been inevitable, but Leidolf decided to burn that bridge if he ever came to it. He needed the power they could offer him and, should that person try to claim it for themselves, he would fight tooth and nail for it.

"Are there a lot of other types of magick?" the child asked him, doing her best to change what felt like an awkward subject.

"Um, he mentioned a few. I know Japanese Shinto, Chinese Taoism, and a few scriptures from the Church that work on spirits and specters. But I'm not—"

Erupting earth drowned out his voice. The ground upheaved itself miles ahead and parted as a fissure was born. The remaining structures that weathered the winds and flames crumbled as their foundations were uprooted, all in the wake of the small mountain in the form of a giant that stood with rubies for eyes rising from beneath the concrete and asphalt. The third pillar had arrived.

The _Golem of Unyielding Earth_ had come to smite the two and let loose a howl that shook the world beneath their feet.

Looking at it from below, buried despair and hopelessness seemed to rise in the runic mage in the face of such an overwhelming force. His flames couldn't turn the hardened earth into slag. His blade would shatter upon the impenetrable stone. He could feel tiny arms trembling around his neck as the child felt the same.

It would take a miracle to survive...

" _No_." Leidolf snarled through clenched teeth as he stood once more. " _Never again._ "

Never again would he rely on a miracle to survive. He grabbed power for that reason. And with that power he would triumph. He set the child down and brought for the holy land once more within the runestone of inherited protection.

"Wait!" she cried as he turned his broad back to her. "You'll get hurt! We have to run!"

"It'll be fine," he said without a hint of doubt. Then he walked forward, the silent hiss of unsheathing steel as loud of gunfire in his ears. "Running isn't an option since the taufr was destroyed, but I can manage this much."

He would give his undivided attention, and every ounce of effort, to destroy the opponent that stood before him. It was fine if mortal fire couldn't melt the mountain, since it couldn't burn one who had been tempered in the flames of Musphelheim either. It was fine if manmade steel couldn't cleave through the stone, for there existed dwarven steel from Svartalfheim. He recognized the pillar of earth as the strongest opposition he faced within the human realm thus far and would use the strongest means at his disposal to decimate it.

The inheritance his master left him consisted of three blades. Each one was forged from dwarven steel and primordial beings that walked different realms. Each one was something not of this world and the first cursed blade was designed to cut through any defense with overwhelming power.

For that reason its title was the _Bane of Shields_ , its true name matching the one of legends, and with it he would make the unyielding mountain crumble.

The giant moved to crush the ant. Bulky arms descended into the concrete and asphalt as power flowed. Following a straight trail, spires of stone blossomed from the earth to impale the runic mage at obscure angles.

The mage moved. His focus was razor sharp as only mere inches separated Leidolf from death while the distance was closed. Even while lacking the bracelet he could still summon the power of the rune of strength to a lesser extent. But he needed an opening to pummel the pillar that served as one of the remaining two, an opening that would not present itself unless he forced one open.

Glass rained down as the remains of window panes burst open. Hunters descended from above on the unsuspecting mage. The pair of wolf-like creatures had tried to ambush him. The keyword being that they 'tried'.

Black steel flashed. Dust scattered. The runestone that bore the symbol of ice was flung with superhuman strength and landed beneath the golem before frost billowed in an explosion of white and blue.

Ice ran where it touched, rime consuming rime until the ice was thickened and encased the bulky limbs in cold shackles roughly half its size. Seconds were bought, none of them wasted as the runic mage sliced his own arm open. Outpouring blood was drunken by the blade, the runes engraved on the black steel turning blood-crimson as they drank to quench their great thirst, until the black steel accepted the sacrifice and the overflowing blood dyed the blade red.

Halting his advance once within its massive shadow there was no fear. He may have been in the death radius of the moving mountain in a humanoid shape, but the die had been cast. Manmade steel combusted with alien flames as he recited the pledge that encompassed the forging of the cursed blade's original.

" _In the name of the Dvalin and Durin, answer the call of Svafrlami. Reform the blade with the fires of the children of Musphelheim!_ _Gleam like crimson flame. Shine a furious gold. Defy the gods and slay any shield!_ "

Burning steel was stabbed into the asphalt beneath Leidolf's feet and the flames not of this world encompassed his figure. Erupting into a spiraling pillar of immolation, it charred his skin charcoal-black as his breathing became deep and inhuman. The fibers of his clothing were seared off and the flames wove themselves into new garments as his hair grew wild and long.

Spiraling flames dissipate with a furious howl. The heart within his chest strained to keep beating under the invasion of the alien essence corrupting his flesh as he spoke the final verse. " _Be born, Bane of Shields, as I speak your true name:_ _Tyrfing_ _!_ "

The ice shackles shattered. The gleaming shards that numbered perhaps thousands rained over the ruined landscape like hail as the massive arm descended to crush the runic mage. A crimson streak drew a line that split the arm in half, sending tons of rubble falling to the ground as the pillar of earth suffered for its loss and staggered back. Rubies eyes stared at the being before it, its artificial mind registering the new threat.

Mortal flesh had been tempered in the flames of Musphelheim, while the strength of the fire giants flowed through his veins and was woven throughout every muscle. Dwarven steel in hand drank in the light as the crimson outline carried the flux of power. Gone was the mage, now stood a child of Musphelheim contained within the frame of a human template that housed its power.

Contemptuous eyes looked upon the obstacle before it as little more than a pebble standing in the way of a raging torrent. The heavy blade was hoisted onto Leidolf's broadened shoulders with ease before the second hand gripped the hilt and brandished the Bane of Shields above his head. The sword was swung and his heart ached as one of the rivets in the blade shattered and a song of devastation was sung.

Pure destruction unleashed. Crimson chaos unbridled. Streamers battered against the unyielding earth and eroded it through sheer force, before they coalesced into a massive beam of obliteration that ripped through the small mountain with ease. All that stood in its wake was wiped away, with only a mark engraved upon the lands remaining.

Blood escaped from pursed lips. The right arm spasmed. His heart threatened to give away should he fire the second shot at the cracked dome that looked as though it would collapse at any moment. The price for the power had been high...yet he smiled.

Only a single pillar remained and balance had been lost. The maelstrom of malice was clearly felt as the flux was barely being contained. The origin stemmed from a lone, but intact, skyscraper hotel. The enemy was there, waiting for him.

He turned his back on the location that was etched into his memory that instant. The final bastion needed to be reached and the child saved. Just one more step was needed and the nightmare would end.

### ~~~~~~

The battlefield was burning once more in the lands that matched those of Musphelheim within the mind of a mortal mage. Standing amongst the fires Leidolf found himself undergoing the trial for the cursed blade once again. No longer hiding in the shadows, the fire giant confronted the apprentice mage.

A living mass of muscles that towered over the runic mage by thrice, cardinal red flesh stretched and shaped into a humanoid figure with pupil-less eyes of empty white. Wild black hair fell down its back, fangs protruded from its mouth, and its body riddled with battle scars bled golden ichor that seemed to be molten from a dozen small gashes, made it seem like little more than a beast of battle that slew its enemies. No mortal who laid eyes on it would assume anything else.

Yet it spoke with clarity as it complimented the mage before it, who clutched his chest. " _An excellent strategy, young vitki_. _You cannot overpower me, so you seek to weaken me and wait as I bleed out_."

The compliment fell on deaf ears. Sound couldn't reach the ruptured eardrums and energy couldn't be wasted to compensate. Everything was dedicated to striking down his enemy as magical energy surged through his limbs and let him surpass the limitation of human muscles. Fire burst from his feet like an afterburner and he took off to attack once more with steel in hand.

The distance was crossed as the giant's club was swung. The blow struck like lightning, fast enough to release a shockwave from the air itself being smashed. Time froze for the mage within the path of destruction.

He placed both hands on the hilt of his sword and swung with all his power at a slanted angle. The blow was deflected mere centimeters from crushing Leidolf into paste as the shockwave displaced his organs. But the coppery taste of blood leaving his mouth, through the grin on his face, held no sway as he swung the blade to take off the fire giant's head.

The thick flesh escaped decapitation with a bleeding gash in its arm, raised in defense. The giant's own grin was one of respect at the attempt and the stout arm was swung like a hammer in response.

Leidolf avoided the strike by kicking out with one of his legs and moving to the side. Magical energy and runes allowed another _Flame Step_ to executed, his footprints on the burning land forever engrave as he renewing his assault from a different direction, at an even faster speed. Steel slid through flame-tempered flesh once more and the ichor poured down its side around the ribcage, the heart avoided by inches. Before the counter could come he was out of the club's range.

Moving at speeds that would tear his body apart in reality Leidolf went all out using hit-and-run tactics to overtake the fire giant, to the extent that his body was screaming for mercy again. It was a strategy where he abandoned all defense for the sake of speed, where one blow would be fatal to him. Against a foe that was strong but slow, it was a brilliant but simple technique. Yet its flaws were obvious.

The gashes were shallow and the opponent too experienced. The fire giant was one who had fought against einherjar, valkyries, and vitki alike in the past, its body bearing the experience of countless battles. Even if the opponent ran circles around it, a fatal blow would be next to impossible for the amateur before it.

Fighting at such speeds for extended periods of time was impossible as well. Every time the runic mage charged, he'd move slower and compensate by injecting more energy. In addition his power and concentration would drop while his strikes would get weaker. Eventually, he would get tired and his energy would be spent. Once the threshold had been reached he wouldn't even be able to scratch the giant anymore and all chances of victory would be lost.

The only hope Leidolf had, the only one he wagered on, was to slow the giant down through blood loss. Every drop that was drunken by the charred soil carried with it strength and speed, the gradual degradation as its blood thinned out would create an opening as its reflexes died down. That opening would be used to deliver the fatal blow.

He wasn't thinking about anything else. He wasn't stopping, even if his mind broke from the strain it placed on its representation in the mindscape. For the sake of power he wouldn't stop and continued his borderline suicidal plan.

The fire giant's grin grew at the challenge. Inhuman vigor carried its blows even as its movements and awareness were slowly failing. Mortals were such short-lived beings, but their lives burned brightly as they constantly surpassed expectation and the thrilling ecstasy made its blood boil for the first time since its essence was sealed inside the spellcraft for _Tyrfing_.

The process of making a spellcraft was to embed it into an item, much like installing software into a computer. When the spell executed the program, the object changed to reveal what lay hidden within and run its function. Such was the nature of all spellcrafts...

But the cursed blades were different in so many ways they were irreplaceable, imitations and replicas of famous Norse weapons crafted by dwarven hands and forged of dwarven steel. The brain which served as the anchor point for the soul itself was the object they were installed into. The software within contained the essences of otherworldly beings, portions of their souls that overlapped the owner's own while leaving the consciousness untouched. Possession to such an extent that the human body shifted, yet the mind remained intact and the soul in one piece without corrosion, was a borderline impossibility in the eyes of modern mages.

Such treasures needed to be guarded. Because of this a safety program that doubled as a trial to prove one's worth was put into place. Only three had undergone the trial of flames, but only one had come out victorious thus far.

One was not a warrior, but a thief who met their end. One was the young vitki at present, who sought to grab power with his own hands and had yet to do so. The last was the nameless master of the runic mage before the giant, the sole victor twice over.

The mortal mage defeated its flesh alongside a chooser of the slain. He sealed its essence within the dwarven steel that became the base of Tyrfing. He triumph over it once more on his own and proved his worth as a warrior...and now, it was Leidolf's turn.

He challenged the giant many times, each time in a different method. Some worked better than others; some brought him closer to earning _Tyrfing_. But none before today were ever this close.

The change was noticeable. His tactics shifted from brute strength and spells to strategy. Notions of fair play and honor on the battlefield were burned away, survival and victory engraved as the only truths that mattered.

Leidolf, at the time, had no enemies that would require the power of the cursed blade. The mental strain and damage he underwent in the training felt every bit as real as if his real body was under attack. The suffering was optional even if the pain was unavoidable. Despite that, he kept coming back and pushing forward through what may as well have been a path of burning coals and brimstone.

He would definitely grow to become an excellent warrior.

Reaching the limits of the trial, the fire giant's anticipation was at its highest as its consciousness wavered. It readied its blade a final time and called out its opponent. " **COME!!** "

A breathless charge gave way to a primal yell as Leidolf's lungs burned. The legs that wouldn't support his speed anymore were discarded as magical energy was funneled into the arms, hands, and steel. He swung with all his might in a strike that could cleave through the giant and the clash resonated throughout the lands.

The outcome was decided as the dust cleared.

The fire giant let out a snort as the pool of ichor beneath its feet, the color of burning gold, expanded. While it had indeed avoided an instantly fatal wound because of its physiology, death would come while it stood on both legs. The entirety of its right torso had been blown away, yet it only had words of praise for the mage. " _..._ **Magnificent** _..._ "

At the last second, Leidolf had twisted his body with everything he had to avoid the killing strike. The cleaving motion was changed into a thrust that perforated the giant. Magical energy overloaded the blade beyond the breaking point, turning it into a shrapnel bomb that cost him his right hand and eye. But he wouldn't die from those injuries in this mindscape.

The fire giant planted a blade into the ground with its remaining hand. It was a long black sword that was shrouded in crimson hue, at least four feet in length and a foot in width, with three rifts where scarlet energy pooled in reserve. It radiated power with its very presence and possessed something that was akin to awareness, acknowledging Leidolf as its master for now.

" _This blade was born of my very essence,_ " the fire giant spoke in a tired tone as it began dissolve, vermillion dust drifting from its figure into the sword. " _Power comes at a heavy price should you brandish this blade._

" _Beware, young vitki. Your rage will burn and sear your surroundings to ashes. My flesh and bone will strain your beating heart. The blade will drink from your life deeply with each use. Death will come to claim you should...you exceed your...limit..._ "

The corporeal body was eroded away. The proud warrior of _Musphelheim_ had chosen a suitor for its power and its soul became one with the blade. It could not have chosen a better end.

Dragging his half-dead body through the wading pool of gold, the ichor crept along Leidolf's flesh and overwrote it. Inhuman muscle replaced his own as his skin was dyed charcoal black. The hair he kept short was now as long and wild as the fire giant's own, and his fingers were more claw-like while his eyes were pure white.

The change was complete. To wield the blade that carried the essence of a child of Musphelheim he took on a form similar to one by bathing in its blood. Only his brain, soul, and heart remained that of a human's. Raising _Tyrfing_ towards the sky, fire erupted all around Leidolf in celebration of his success.

Power was at last in his hands.

### ~~~~~~

In the present that overwhelming power was unleashed and the constrained chaos left a trail of complete destruction. The power to topple a mountain cut clean across half of the city. Gazing at it from above in his fortress that was once a hotel that reached towards the sky, Armel felt one emotion more vividly than the blinding pain of his mind from suffering from the backlash of his pillar, the one he was most proud of, being destroyed: **Envy.**

Such power was easily within the realms of the elite within the organization he was a part of, one of the most premiere gathering of mages within the world. No, it surpassed even them in that it was alien to that of mages who hailed from Earth. Somehow, someway, a stray mage of no known bloodline or legacy wielded a power that he himself had sought.

Within the organization's ranks, blood and titles meant everything. Those who were at the bottom could never hope to be in the same social standing as those at the top. The failures could never look upon the light of the successes, only hide in their shadow.

He was a failure who was shunned by others who stood next to and above him, as if he was an ant amongst giants. Cast out from his home for being usurped by his younger siblings, and stripped of his family name for an incompatibility with their arts, he cursed the talented and made a vow to attain power. No matter who or what he had to sacrifice to get it.

He poured over every scrap of arcane knowledge he could like they were religious text. He sacrificed and discarded his true name and future for the craft, carving out bloody paths and pilfering knowledge from those whose lives he ended. He became the ideal mage, one who sought knowledge without reservation, and his efforts proved fruitful in the end.

He was taken in as the shadow apprentice of one of the elite in admiration of his tenacity. Under her wings he clawed his way from a low ranking 'F' to 'B' in a mere four years. He was bestowed the title of 'Armel of the False Beasts' and his talent in their creation and command was unrivaled.

But it wasn't enough. He wanted more. Though his loyalty to his master was unparalleled, he wanted to surpass even her.

And she had offered him the means to do so.

_Demons_ , a blanket term for beings that crossed the realms through tears in the dimensional walls in accordance with the Church. It was used by mages as well for those that couldn't be classified as mythological creatures or beings that were identified already. Beneath the earth, at the bottom of the hotel itself, slept one of these demons of immense power.

The seal holding it in was masterpiece. He could tell that, even though it was alien to his knowledge that was composed of magick from just about every culture on earth. But his superior, his master, understood it and was the one who discovered and constructed a means of piercing the multilayered seal to harvest the power of what dwelled within it.

While he did not know the origin or realm that the demon that slept below the seal hailed from, his master told him that he would be a suitable vessel to hold in the abundant energy of the demon. He would have near-unlimited power. With power came respect and glory, enough to smite those who berated him.

But for now there stood another obstacle. Too much had been sacrificed and he would not get another chance at this attempt. The signs of his involvement meant an inquisition for an operation of this scale. Success or death—those were the only options that awaited him, but he knew that going in.

Rising to his feet and wiping away the crimson tear trails, Armel prepared for war. The building was his fortress, housing the final pillar that worked tirelessly to support the arcane ritual below and maintain the barrier above. The enemy knew where he dwelled, he was certain, and would invade to hamper his efforts.

Removing the golden pentacle that served as his magical focus from his neck, Armel whispered arcane words as he began to send out a new directive to the false familiars crafted by his hands. They would serve as the first line of defense and sap his strength, while the final pillar remained within the safety of the fortress.

#  To Grab Power

The luminous sliver water in Leidolf's bath bubbled without pause, the sound soothing him as he relaxed within the confines of the tub. The blend of herbs, woodchips, and sand from finely pounded stones with magical properties had come courtesy of his master's guidance as a method for repairing the damage after the mindscape trials. Every ache, every wound, every ounce of exhaustion was being purged.

The child was nestled on his couch, asleep with treasured stuffed toy within her arms and a thick comforter over her body. The encounters she had been through were too much for one so young and uninitiated to involve themselves in. While she was physically safe against overwhelming odds, he had yet to see about her mind.

That was a problem that could not be solved with overwhelming power, which was the only thing he sought before. The trauma she had suffered through today was arguably worse than the other life that was saved by his hands a mere eight months ago. That person, who he had saved and yet failed at the same time, went by the name Scion.

The path of a mage was not one suited for who enjoyed the social lifestyle. As such he had no friends by nature and by practice. The trade-off was proficiency within the confines of his art when it came to strengthening his flesh and dancing with flames. Manipulating the frosts born of the runes were somewhat easy, but there was major discomfort when doing so and it was better to play it safe than sorry when tampering with a dangerous force.

Yet, despite isolating himself in class, Scion refused to ignore him and, merely by chance one day, he saved her from something that wasn't human, much like he did the child. For reasons unknown she had taken a romantic interest in him prior as well, but he did not share the notions of what she felt or bothered to comfort her after her ordeal. The very next month Scion had left the city to be with her parents.

Officially, it was for family reasons. But he held onto the belief that maybe part of it was really because of his cold nature towards her when she tried to talk to him about nightmares she had since then. That was perhaps the first unknown sacrifice he made to the runes, his empathy. Saving someone meant doing so in mind and body and, while he saved her life, he did nothing for her mind and let it rot.

He could not erase the memories of the trauma she sustained due to a lack of proficiency in that area. He didn't think she would tell anyone since there was no proof of what he could do as a mage that would serve as evidence. At the same time that meant she couldn't tell anyone about the trauma she suffered and receive counseling for it properly, and he never made an attempt to do so either. Looking back, he was a jerkass and would never again half-ass it as such.

It was for that reason that when the mage's persona surfaced, the man's persona took refuge within the confines of his mind. Without higher-levels of emotions, the mage was but a machine that sought power and could utilize his art with a rational mind. Without power the other was but a man who was powerless, but capable of higher-levels of emotion and connecting with others. Right now the man was needed more than the mage.

The bubbling stopped as the light from the water died. The healing water had done what it could. After finishing his shower to cleanse his flesh and dressing once more, he proceeded to the kitchen. Along the way he discovered the child had woken up while he was in the shower and was looking out the window.

"Not a pleasant sight is it?" he asked gently. She only nodded in agreement. "I'll make dinner. Is there anything in particular you like or dislike?"

"...It doesn't matter," the child told him without turning her gaze from the window.

_This kind of destruction is not something a child should have to see_ , he mused silently to himself and left her to her thoughts. He would do what he could. But first was food. No person could attempt to console another through such a cataclysm without food. It just wouldn't work.

He pulled out all the ingredients he had, cracked his knuckles, and lit the stove. Seeing as this could very well be his final meal there was no need to hold back. The sound of metal cutting through meat and vegetables with zeal went well with the gurgling water as it boiled. The kitchen practically came to life.

Leidolf didn't have confidence in a lot of things, but cooking was one he did. He had been living on his own for quite some time and would have starved if he hadn't learned to cook. Self-preservation extended past instant noodles after all and, within thirty minutes, a smell circulated the house that made the child's stomach growl as she walked over to the dining table and eyed the plate curiously. He urged her to give the meal a taste. "Go ahead and try it."

Picking up her fork, she stabbed into the meat and slowly brought it to her lips. With one tiny bite, her eyes lit up. "Delicious..."

"I have confidence in my cooking," he said with pride in his voice. Then there was no more talking until they were done, the warmth of the meal spreading throughout their bodies. The child, who had been slightly pale before, had some of the color return to her face. He may have 'neglected' to mention that some of her food was enchanted to speed up the healing process.

Putting away the plates, Leidolf began to open the dialogue to save her mind. While he was not someone who held a degree in such a field, he could at least assure her that she would be safe. To do that she had to feel a connection with him that would not leave her fearing him in light of the actions she saw him undertake. Step one: **Introductions.**

"Now that we've eaten, how about we introduce ourselves properly?" Sitting down across from the child on the couch he consolidated his words into sentences that would be accurate and simple. "As I've said before, my name is Leidolf or Leid for short, and I am a mage who specializes in _Runic Arts_. I'm good at enchanting items and using minor rune spells, but mostly for combat."

She responded in kind. "My name is Arietta Euphony, or just Aria."

"Well, Aria. I'm sure you have more questions and want answers," he said, to which she nodded. "I'll tell you whatever I can. But know this fact: You are safe within my home.

"It is isolated from the outside meaning none of the creatures can get inside. I myself, as you can probably tell, mean you no harm either. I simply want to ensure that you survive, no matter what actions I have or will take until this matter is done. Understand?"

Pink hair bobbed as she nodded. Aria had many questions she wanted to ask Leidolf, the enigma of a hero who didn't think of himself as one; a person who could do amazing things but acted so calm about it; and a brave man who showed no fear, at least in her eyes. Gathering her courage, she asked him where it all started. "Where did you come from? Were you born here?"

"No," he admitted. A sad smile graced his face and he half-closed his eyes. "I moved here a few years ago for college after I ran away from home."

Aria couldn't imagine anyone doing such a thing, but then again she was only a child. "You left your parents without telling them?"

"I don't have any parents," he answered. "Not anymore. My only parent was my mother, who died from an illness that killed her slowly, while my father wasn't in the picture."

She sat there with her a tear falling from her eye, empathizing with the death of family members. Leidolf felt a twinge of guilt at reminding her, but decided against stopping his story since he promised to tell her everything.

So he continued. "Mother had a very large life insurance for us to collect. That's where the problems started. Rather than splitting it evenly, my older sister and brother started fighting over it violently. Very violently...

"...The world isn't a nice place to everyone. Maybe they had debts to pay off, maybe they felt like it was a final gift from our mother, or maybe they were just greedy. It wouldn't have changed the outcome either way. Once they started fighting physically, I said 'screw this' and applied to a college here, leaving in the dead of night with only a note saying goodbye and changing my name to Leidolf—which came to me in a dream."

"Don't you miss them?" she asked innocently.

He shut up for a few seconds to try and put the thoughts in his head together in a way that would make sense to her. "...I never really felt comfortable around others, even other family members. For some reason, it always felt like they were fragile. So fragile that I could break them with a touch...

"Anyway," he concluded his story with a clap of his hands, "as for the predicament we are currently in, have you given a thought to what you are you going to do when all of this is over?"

She shook her head. The entire time she had been watching battles that extended past the bounds of humanity and surviving Hell on earth, so it was natural she hadn't given it any thought. "Like what?"

"Do you have any distant relatives?" Leidolf asked. "Someone who will take you in once everything is over. I doubt there's anyone else here besides you, me, and the one behind this crimson night. Once this barrier drops, the police and rescue services will swarm over this place like an infestation, searching for survivors. Since this is one of the few standing buildings and whole, they'll come here as soon as they see it.

"I imagine after treating you, they'll ask you the same thing so it's good to have it thought out," he finished.

"Won't they find you too?" she asked.

"No, they won't." Leidolf rested his chin on the palm of his hand. "If they find me, they'll have questions that I can't duck under too easily. Since you're only a child, even if you tell them the truth, they'll simply say it was your imagination coping with the stress of the incident."

To be truthful, he didn't expect to survive his next battle. It wasn't like the situation was hopeless. It was just that the odds were, once again, really stacked against him. That was part of the reason he never gambled.

Mentally taking an inventory of his remaining equipment, he gave it a one-in-fifty chance of defeating the one behind this _and_ dealing with whatever gave off that malice. He knew he'd need _Tyrfing_ again to even those odds out and, whenever that blade was involved, death held a very real chance of following from a heart attack alone.

"Would it be possible for me to just stay here?" she asked. The manner of her tone suggested she was almost begging. "With you?"

He blinked in confusion. "Why?"

"I feel safe with you," she said. Salvation only lied with her savior after watching him and she only felt secure within his presence.

Rubbing his chin, he looked at the clock on his wall. It was only two hours and fifteen minutes before Midnight. So much time had passed since it all began. "Raising a kid is outside my comfort zone. I mean, you're a nice girl and all, but even if I made up a lie to explain all of this...

He shrugged. "Well, I'm a single, barely legal adult student. Well, former student now. I wouldn't be the best choice for adoption to whomever would handle assigning you over to state or foster care. There's no guarantee they'd let me keep you."

She looked crestfallen at his reasoning. "I don't have anyone else I know."

Leidolf sighed looking at her. Really there was nothing he could do without some influence on the outside to handle such things. Provided he survived himself, of course. Still, he would give it his best. "When everything is over we'll see, just get some more rest while I head out to end things soon..."

### ~~~~~~

Roughly just under an hour later Armel felt the sensation of his false familiars acting towards a perceived threat and gazed from the window of the penthouse room he called his own for the moment. Enhancing his sight, he witnessed the runic mage charging into battle like a medieval knight, a glass-like shield and sword in hand. From his viewpoint Armel would watch and assess the runic mage's craft to discover anything exploitable.

Black steel flashed. The light of the runes left illuminated trails of dancing arcs drawn in the air as the enchanted blade cleaved through the creatures that stood along the path. The slain bloodlessly became nothing more than dust in the wind as he changed his stance.

Bloodied claws tore through empty space. The targets were the inner thigh, jugular, and stomach. Seeking to rend the flesh beneath the battered cloak, the hunters moved in a pack and pounced. The claws slid off the shield appropriately, with the sound of nails on a chalkboard, and their bodies were set aflame as the runic mage's foot blazed a searing crescent.

No sooner than he set foot on the ground did Leidolf feel the massive impact upon his back. He gazed back in time to avoid the subsequent strike from the bear-like creature that he had the fortune of not running into until now. Had the impact not been dampened by the cloak's enchantments it would have left him crippled. In retrospect he should have expected more heavy-hitters.

To drive it off he slammed the shield against its nose and overloaded the glass-like magical construct at point-black range. The fragments became shrapnel at such proximity, embedding themselves within the creature as the force knocked it away. He followed up by jumping above it and then descending with the blade at the ready, driving it deep into what served as the brain and reciting the spell. " _Cen Sverd!_ "

The _Flame Sword_ spell was unleashed and the blade was consumed by mortal flames that spread over its form like wildfire. The creature howled as the fire peeled away its muscles and burned away its nerves, taking away the bonds of magick that held it together. The blade was retracted as the runic mage focused on the rest of the numbers that attempted to mob him, summoning a new shield to continue the fighting while he dealt with the headache from the backlash of the overload.

_Runes, primarily fire with no signs of anything exceeding close-to-mid range in effectiveness, along with rudimentary defense_ , Armel thought as he burned the opponent's movements and spell-work into his mind. Compared to the earlier display of magick it was nothing impressive.

Armel came to the conclusion that he could not summon that power he witnessed through the pillar of earth's eyes when the memories returned. The blade that contained such power required a longer incantation and ritualistically sacrificing his own blood. With the current numbers it would be impossible for an opening to be created unless he used the runestone that bestowed a territory that he reigned in.

Armel could hamper it from below assuming the domain was anchored by the ground that was marked by the rune. It would be enough to cease the casting and allow his false familiars to tear apart the mage. He clutched the pentacle in his hand in anticipation of the mightiest art within the mage's disposable being unleashed...

It never came, not even as he watched the stray mage slow down. Leidolf had taken down over half and was breathing hard as his defenses were failing. Armel changed his thoughts to wondering if that power held a price that Leidolf could not pay once more. All magick had a price after all and, if you couldn't pay it, either it wouldn't work or it took out the remaining costs on your body or soul. Then he noticed the change in the stray's tactics.

Flames bolstered his leaping strength as Leidolf jumped back thrice, over fifty meters each bound, in an instant. There was a visible outline of the flow of magical energy being fed from his reserves into his projection gloves while creatures charged him. The rune of _Kauno_ burned itself onto the surface of the gloves as he held out his left hand, braced at the wrist by his right one, and bent his knees to help withstand the upcoming recoil.

" _I'll let you all hear it,_ " the runic mage whispered. His hand became shrouded in flames that burned tepid orange, blinding white, and then furious crimson with the rage of a child of Musphelheim contained within it. The final gift of the fire giant who bequeathed his blade was knowledge of a spell that converted his magical energy into the flames of another realm itself.

" **FIRE GIANT'S ROAR!** " The declaration of the spell unleashed the torrent upon the land. It was a sea of blazing hot flames, an inferno that scorched the air itself. Incinerating the left glove as it unleashed its payload, just about everything inside the target area was engulfed under a wave of alien crimson fire.

Ashes billowed before being swallowed by the ravenous fire. Metal deformed and twisted under the heat. The gravel and sand that melted the concrete became lava that parted when the wave broke past the defensive line Armel had set and barreled towards the structure that served as his fortress.

With no choice the architect of the destruction unleashed the pillar of water. Liquid of all kinds flowing in the pipes beneath the surface of the streets bursts all forth. Immeasurable gallons were tainted by magical energy and demonic malice as they met with the Musphelheim Flames. The steam explosion that occurred made the windows of the skyscraper hotel shriek as they broke, the force of opposites meeting straining metal as one canceled out the other within the billowing wisps that formed an impenetrable veil.

Armel's enchanted vision spanned the spectrum before settling for X-Ray to penetrate the shroud. He could see it. He could see the runic mage running through the hellish vapor, salivation being the cloak he wore that was reaching its limit.

Bursting from the veil he approached the remnants of the pillar of water, which sought to defend itself by taking the form of a gelatinous blob with thrashing tendrils. The runic mage glared at the maw that ripped itself into the blob's ever-shifting form. Enhanced muscles allowed him to send a present down its gullet with a single fling, while the arcane words that escaped his lips crafted a fiery twister that rose from the earth to the sky. It evaporated the final pillar that tethered the barrier into the realm of men, filtering the malevolent energy below, and the glass-like fragments rained down, revealing the pure white moon in place of the crimson one.

### ~~~~~~

Merely a minute ago the outside of the barrier was teeming with numerous individuals. They were all mages, all of whom were dispatched by a single organization to do damage control barring a single one. That individual remained hidden beneath a magical shroud that eluded their senses as they cast their gazes towards the distorted boundary that isolated the city from the world and wove a unified spell of their own.

Out of hearing range, the hidden mage spoke into her phone. "There's been some activity. The mages from the Arcane Syndicate's combat branch seem to be setting up a secondary barrier. Given the sheer size of the one in place already it'll take some time."

On the other end of the line a male spoke. " _Apparently the one who put up that barrier was a mage called Armel. There's been an order to bring him in for questioning. It seems he stole from one of the elites some foci that enabled him to pull it off, a mage with an unparalleled rank of 'SS' in terms of ability within their structure._ "

The female summed it up in few words. "He's not getting out of this alive."

" _Considering the mage he stole from is heading the combat unit, no. Whether it's for revenge or to ensure her knowledge isn't gutted by scavengers amongst those in her command, she'll probably get to him first._ "

When her counterpart reported the filtered presence of an unknown source of energy, demonic and alien in nature, she was best to investigate it on foot. Mages were both inquisitive and secretive by trade. Information about the situation and circumstances would prove valuable in one way or another.

"Do you have an ETA on when they're going to move?" she asked.

" _Given the reports that are coming in and the earlier estimation...midnight should be the time when they have the secondary barrier up and breach the current one._ "

_So, just a little over an hour left until we get some answers,_ the woman thought.

Of course, the mages found their timetable moved up rather abruptly as the barrier that isolated the disaster from the eyes of the mundane ruptured before their very eyes. The sight of the damage that had unfolded made it clear that covering it up would be even more difficult than imagined, and the malice leaking out into the world was so thick it could be felt by the uninitiated and mundane had they been within the perimeter set up by the unit.

The hidden mage heard through her refined hearing commands being issued as the leader of the unit announced her intentions to contain it and immediately began weaving a large-scale spell to do so, as the rest of the unit used illusions to maintain the appearance of normalcy. Magical energy flowed as she leapt forward like a shooting star into the malice faucet, before the opportunity to investigate had passed, as a nearly flawless containment spell executed under duress encompassed the entirety of the fallen city in less than sixty seconds.

She landed inside the secondary barrier and summoned her weapon, her gaze spanning the ruined city with luminous eyes...

### ~~~~~~

The power was spilling out. The operation was a failure. The power he lusted for and sought to contain was gushing out without any way to contain it, unfiltered and raw beneath the spellwork of what he recognized to be his master.

The failsafe within the foci he used ritualistically should have caused the sealing array to close itself. But without the sacrifices to assist in the enchantments to render the demon docile as he pilfered its power, it would most likely break through soon enough. Something that should not exist in the realm was going to be unleashed.

However, there was no time to lament the fact that all his efforts proved futile and he was going to die. Not when the sound of explosions from below were followed by groaning steel. Armel's fortress was collapsing all around him and there was no time to escape the death trap.

Just like his world, it all came crashing down on top of him.

#  The Closing of the Curtain

Wielding the cursed blade once again, Leidolf watched as the skyscraper hotel collapsed on itself from a distance following his detonation of the remaining runestones at the foundation of the hotel. It bypassed any foolish thought of climbing the hotel and facing the enemy in what was sure to be his workspace. It was also his hope that it would cease whatever ritual was leaking that malice into the world and kill the one orchestrating it, but he could see that it hadn't done the job completely as _something_ was emerging from within it slowly. He would have no choice but to try and use the blade to push back whatever it was.

His long hair began slowly moving with the breeze of the night winds as, with the destruction of the main barrier, the stagnant death-filled air was being blown away and replaced. The sensation of the secondary barrier did not escape him, alerting him to fact that another force had come into place, but for now he had to focus on the more imminent threat as an eruption of earth occurred meters away in front of him as Armel emerged reborn.

Concrete covered his body and formed his armor, piercing eyes fixed on the runic mage. The pentacle was placed on the stone stretched and molded into his chest-plate as a permanent fixture to free up his arms for the impending battle, shining as the flux of magical energy channeled through it was put to use.

Holding _Tyrfing_ with both hands, Leidolf pointed the blade at the armored mage of earth. Forever burning the man's face into his memory, he vowed to slay him silently within the confines of his mind. Then he charged.

Armel's yellow pentacle, the symbol and color of the earth element, shone brighter and directed his will and magical energy into the ground beneath his feet as he recited a spell. " _Calculus_ _Consurgo!_ "

Earth was transmuted, concrete and asphalt morphed. Hexagonal pillars of gray stone erupted from beneath the runic mage's feet. Relenting on his assault, he avoided being launched off the ground and helpless in midair as the pillars rose higher. Then they defied gravity by hovering above Armel.

" _Terra_ _Pluere!_ " An armored arm was swung downward in an arc as the second spell brought destruction. The pillars broke apart and rained destruction from above, releasing a downpour of heavy and large stones upon the battlefield. The ground trembled as concrete dust was thrown about until it formed a veil that covered them both.

The earthen armor-clad mage shifted his vision once more to the X-ray spectrum and let his eyes wonder. He saw his death, the silent killer's blade chambered and swung. He ducked to avoid decapitation, launching his foot back like a spear to shatter the ribcage of the mage who had become a being similar to a fire giant.

Tyrfing was retracted and braced, the flat of the blade surviving as a bulwark against the attack as Leidolf leapt back to reduced the impact. The crashing sound of magically reinforced earth and dwarven steel rang out like a gunshot. Skidding a few meters away from the attempt to skewer his lungs and heart with the broken pieces of his own ribcage, Leidolf attempted to close the distance once more.

The yellow pentacle shone to the point that it may as well have been burning gold. The magical energy that was siphoned to retain the armor's form and strengthen his body to continue to move double. An outstretched hand towards the enemy mage acted as a director and the shrapnel left behind in the wake of his downpour were launched, their velocity magically bolstered from zero to a seventy miles an hour.

The flat of the cursed blade deflected the bullets of stone as the overlapped fire giant's muscles strained to hold fast as he approached. Seeing that close-combat was unavoidable, Armel recited the next spell. " _Ferrum Creo!_ "

His words rang out to the remnants of the stone pillars, grayish earth permeated with magical energy, which were drawn to the source. The earth smashed into itself above Armel and melded into a new shape, an axe-sword the same size as he was. Gravity took hold and the blade descended to the ground below, only to be caught by the earthen-clad mage using both of his hands.

The blade of stone was swung downward in an attempt to smash Leidolf. The Bane of Shields flashed horizontally to cleave Armel in half, armor and all. Despite them both having less than a fourth of their original power, they released a swirling torrent of magical energy when the blades impacted on a stage of combat where neither would yield and both would bleed until the one was dead.

Dwarven steel met with the axe-sword of stone in a dance underneath the pale moon. Equal convictions clashed in a tempest of magical energy. With their minds devoid of anything barring the opponent in front of them, the two mages laid their lives on the line and fought with all they had to slay the enemy in front of them.

The convictions in their blades rang out. One's ambitions were reduced to ashes, while the other's city was turned to ruins of dust. Thousands of lives and years of ambition both lost in a single day.

Leidolf's blade tore through the air, leaving a scarlet trail behind it as the axe-sword left a gray trail. Contrasting blurs violently met in a rain of sparks, occasionally tearing into the fabric adorning Leidolf's charcoal-black flesh and gouging furrows into the stone armor. Seeking to turn the blur of gray and scarlet into red mist, they sped up further to draw blood.

_Tha-thump._ His heart ached. The strain of the transformation was beginning to wear on Leidolf's heart. Even if the rest of his body had turned into that of a being similar to a fire giant his heart and mind remained human.

The tearing of the muscles and the restitching through magical energy was a constant as Armel's flesh weathered the weight of the stone. The strain was immense on his bones and body, his magical reserves dipping lower than that of the amateur in front of him. If not for the sensation of his earth-born blade tearing into the inhuman flesh and seeing the human blood from a human heart escaping, he would have assumed the avenger was a demon himself.

Leidolf bit down the grunt of pain from the wound on his chest as his magical energy served as an impromptu suture. He sacrificed his flesh to the enemy's blade for the opportunity to claim bone. Dwarven steel promptly sliced through the armor and took a portion of Armel's belly.

There was a scream as what felt like a hot brand attempted to gouge out his innards. Armel forced down the desire to double over and stone quickly covered the wound to keep his insides inside of his body. He then shifted and swung with all his strength to knock the blade from his opponent's hand.

The Bane of Shields was sent flying from the grasp of the runic mage. He was disarmed as the earth-born blade came around once more. Armel's victory seemed assured as the massive weapon cut through the air in a horizontal line...

And Leidolf abandoned the earth for the air, inhuman muscles releasing stored energy like a spring to jump above the line of death. Twisting in the air, his foot dropped down like a guillotine as the blade was retracted and the flat of it used as a shield. The blow connected.

Armel cringed as the impact sank his feet into the solid ground by three inches. The enemy was now inside his guard. He bought his hands around with the massive weight and a bolstered speed that surpassed even peak human ability, but it was too slow as the forearm of the runic mage hindered his arm and the momentum of the blade continued, the axe-sword flying from his fingers and into the distance.

Then came the pain as the charcoal fists of the runic mage smashed against the stone protecting his body, hammering it with blows. The head, the chest, the neck, all were targeted and cracked faster that he could repair as the force transferred through them carried to the organ that may have been enhanced but still human. A bloom of pain erupted inside Armel as the runic mage clutched his shoulders and then drove his knee through the portion of his armor that guarded his groin, the shock resonating through his body.

Leidolf's knee came up once more to smash in Armel's skull while he kneeled in agony. But the earth shook as the mage who manipulated the element itself slammed his fist on the ground and his balance was compromised. Leaping back, he tried desperately to ignore the stress on his heart that forced itself to pump faster to keep up with the demands of the body that wasn't human.

Armel used the reprieve to spit out a curse as his armor crumbled around him bit-by-bit, thinning out to be more energy efficient. "What a vulgar method of combat unbefitting one who calls themselves a mage. You stain your honor with mud."

The runic mage gave out a mirthless laugh at the claim. "There is no honor on the battlefield. Even if it's a dirty way of fighting and I'm covered in mud, I'll be the one alive in the end. While someone else's life is on the line, when my own is on the line, I'll fight the way I deem most effective for me."

He extended a hand in the direction his cursed blade flew off to and called for it. The dwarven steel crossed the distance with haste and rejoined him once more. "Besides, I don't think anyone who slaughters an unsuspecting city has the right to criticize me."

Armel slammed his hand into the ground a wedge of earth knocked his axe-sword into the air, before it came back down and impaled itself into the ground in front of Armel. The shadow cast by the blade as he kneeled behind it cloaked his features as he muttered the next spell to raise stone spikes beneath the runic mage's feet.

Leidolf sensed a surge of energy moving through the ground towards him and dodged. The sharp cone made of stone that sought to impale him was joined by more and more as he closed the distance. The cursed blade cut through the bulwark of the axe-sword in an instant...

Only to cleave through empty space as the enemy had vanished. "Damn."

Armel was no weakling or fool. He had earned his rank through sheer practice and motivation. He had to fight and kill many others to get where he was today. He was a true mage in every sense of the word.

Leidolf was underdeveloped as a mage, but an excellent fighter. He had potential to grow, but the differences were starting to show themselves. Potential did not equal experience as it had yet to be developed. If that were all that mattered, the victory would go to the better mage—in which case, Armel would triumph.

But that was where luck and being prepared factored in.

Leidolf still had his right glove functioning, even now. If there was an enemy you couldn't keep up with, then you brought them down to your level. He had every intention of doing just that.

The earth trembled as a shockwave tore through the ground towards Leidolf from behind. Cursing under his breath, Leidolf discharged some of the energy that Tyrfing drank from him and sent a shockwave of his own towards it. They crashed into each other and threw dust and stone in all directions.

The sensation of Armel emerging behind him from beneath the ground in the storm of earth and stone left him just enough time to charge his right glove with magical energy. A reverse _Uruz_ rune appeared on it as he spun on the heel of his feet with the fist chambered. Tilting his head as a stone knife nearly pierced his eye Leidolf drove his fist into Armel's armored-face and shattered through it.

The mage flew backwards like a rag doll until he skirted along the ground and rolled to a stop. Alive, but dazed, he rose to his feet...and then his body throbbed. He could _feel_ the curse spreading through his body as his armor fell to pieces around him.

Leidolf couldn't keep the smirk off his face. The _Mage Breaker_ was a spell that was engineered based on the principle of an _Alf-Shot_ , an illness curse caused by an Alf's arrow. It weakened the mental and physical status of the enemy, but only for a short time against the intended target. He had to finish this before the more experienced mage managed to purge it from his system.

Leidolf charged at Armel at full speed, thinking he had won as the man's armor crumbled to dust and exposed his clothes and flesh. One fatal blow, as fast and hard as he could muster, to kill the architect of destruction who orchestrated these events. He devoted everything to that purpose.

Then Armel grasped the pentacle in his hand and time froze for Leidolf. He couldn't stop or change his direction at this speed. He had gotten overconfident and left himself open as Armel shouted and poured most of his remaining energy into the pentacle.

" _Calculus_ _Consurgo!_ " was the last thing the runic mage heard before a large hexagonal pillar rose from directly underneath him, slamming directly into his body. The impact was sudden and hard, cracking his ribcage, stressing his heart, and rattling his brain.

A sinister smile came across Armel's face as he watched the runic mage go limp. The pillar violently cracked and collapsed on itself, raining stone onto the ground and catching Leidolf's unconscious body in it. The smile only grew as Leidolf regained consciousness on the impact, only for the falling stones to bury him while crushing a few vital organs.

He was lucky it missed his head, but the rest of his transformed body disagreed since it would have been a quicker end. Swallowing the blood that struggled to leave his mouth, he could feel as the demon that slept beneath the seal began to rise and tear open the seal from the remains of the hotel. The fight carried on too long and, with every fading beat of Leidolf's heart, hatred and malice from it like smoke from flames.

Armel laughed in triumph, not even caring about the potential terror he would unleash onto the world. He knew he would die one way or another. Even so, he would leave behind a legacy of infamy.

The ground felt as though it was spinning under the white moon for the runic mage as his grip tightened on the cursed blade. His vision tunneled on Armel's insane smiling face, the image burning into his mind and overlapping that of the child who he swore to protect. He refused to die without accomplishing what he set out to do and ensuring her safety by eliminating the threat.

Leidolf tapped into his life-force for more power at the expense of his lifespan. Strength began returning to his transformed body as his heart ached while beating with renewed vigor. With a roar he forced himself up and let his rage and conviction consume him with flames that billowed outward and blew away Armel as the earth around him burned.

The earth-manipulating mage landed in the remnants of a demolished building. He could hear the snapping of his bones from the impact, his energy too low to shield his body or mend the wounds. Even so, Armel began to put the last dredges of his energy into the pentacle, preparing one last spell to kill Leidolf, even if he died in the process.

A pink flash tore through the sky at that instant and the sensation of his heart being penetrated ceased the buildup of magical energy. Looking down in disbelief, he saw a bolt of condensed magical energy shaped into a spear that he recognized instantly. His last words were those of understanding as his master's feminine figure appeared next to him. "Time's...up, huh?"

"Sorry," she told his corpse as she pulled out the energy spear.. "You're a loose end right now. We'll talk later."

There was another flash and Armel's head fell off his body and into her arms, covering them in blood. There was still a use for him, even if his body died. As long as she had his head to tether his soul she could continue to make use of him as an asset.

She then turned at sensing a bloom of alien energy to see Leidolf standing there, raising Tyrfing into the sky while radiating power. Her interest was piqued at the sight, but her time was too scarce and there were measures she needed to take to deal with the fallout of the entire incident. She vanished in one final flash as a bright scarlet pillar arose with a roar as the Bane of Shields was swung.

Burning energy rushed towards the seal and into the gaping hole in it. An unholy scream that consisted of a myriad of inhuman voices shook the air of the city. It then died out as the multilayered array's failsafe kicked in and resealed the demon.

_It's done_ , Leidolf thought to himself as he fell to the ground. Gone was the form of the fire giant and replacing it was his marred human flesh. _Whatever was hiding down there won't be getting up now_.

Fifty-years—that was how much of his life he sacrificed to surpass his limits and convert it to energy to empower Tyrfing. Even for human mages, who had lifespans ranging centuries or longer if they didn't push themselves too hard or get killed by a disease or in battle, it was costly.

He couldn't use Tyrfing or his transformed state for an extended period after overusing it normally. Considering how far he pushed himself, he wouldn't be able to use it again for another year or two at least. His greatest weapon was lost at the cost of stopping the demon and the strain on his heart was something that would need medical attention immediately.

Every muscle in his body ached as he stood. His sword was turned into a walking cane by necessity. Walking into the cold night, he headed towards his home with every step feeling like it was on a path of thorns. But he had to reach Aria and stay with her until she was out of the city.

That was his promise, so he walked.

#  Epilogue

Staring up at the beautiful moonlit night, Aria had tears in her eyes once again. They left wet trails of joy along her cheeks as they flowed unrestrained. She never thought that something she saw just about every night would look so beautiful.

_I never told him 'Thank you'_ , she thought to herself. With all the excitement and destruction, she never personally thanked him. So she resolved to do so the moment he came back and waited to thank her savior for everything he did for her by waiting near the door.

Even after it had been over two hours since he left for the battlefield, she didn't move from that spot. She wouldn't until he came back. Because she knew he would return.

The sound of the door handle turning made her ears perk up. Anticipation mounted as the door hinges groaned and revealed him. He looked horrible, as if he carried himself through the battlefield on his hands and knees, but he came back.

With tears in her eyes she smiled and said, "Welcome back...and thank you for everything."

He gave her a gentle smile as well and reached to pat her head...only for something to pierce his left shoulder from behind and the limb attached to it went numb. He spun into a defensive posture with the child behind him and found himself facing the female mage who infiltrated the city when the barrier fell.

Dressed in a cloak that concealed her features, she aimed what looked to be a cyberpunk bow at him with an energy arrow nocked. "Move and I'll shoot again. I have questions for you and you're coming with me to answer them, mage!"

Gritting his teeth Leidolf prepared to lay his life on the line once more.

## ###

## To Be Continued in Arcane Advent #2: The Dark Bible

## Webpage: R.Kain's Fantasy

## Blog: R.Kain's Fantasy Tumblr

## Twitter: @rkainfantasy

#  Table of Contents

## Epigraph

## Ch 0

## Ch 1

## Ch 2

## Ch 3

## Ch 4

## Ch 5

## Ch 6

## Conclusion
