Note 11/8/2024 5:43:20 PM

You Profane have a high tolerance for injury, but just looking at you now, it’s clear you aren’t immune to pain."

"Bastard!" Deacon hissed, feeling a stinging sensation spreading through his body, from his toes to his eyeballs.

He hurled two daggers at Noah and then jumped again, but an arrow struck him in midair, and he hit the earth with a hard tumble. Before he could get up, a third arrow was planted in his back, then a fourth. Noah calmly approached him, launching arrow after arrow, each sticking in Deacon and hindering his mobility. He struggled to stand and angrily began ripping out the arrows, then staggered, disoriented. It felt like his senses were being twisted until they threatened to snap.

"There is plenty of nasty stuff on each of those arrowheads. It seems even your biology can’t handle them all," said Noah as he approached.

"Shut your mouth, you pathetic human!" Deacon screamed.

He tried, rather clumsily, to slash at Noah, but the moment he raised his arm, it was taken from him, severed by a perfect slice. He stared at the bloody stump, seeing doubles from all the toxins flowing in him. He then collapsed, not because of the drugs, but because Noah delivered another slice, severing one of his legs. Deacon lay helpless on the ground, and Noah removed his remaining limbs. Though blood poured from his wounds, Deacon thrashed and snarled in blind fury, refusing to accept his defeat.

"You’re quite resilient, I almost couldn’t make those cuts because your bones are so tough. It’s no wonder Prince Lupin is having so much trouble with you guys. However, I’d say it’s pretty clear where you and I sit on the power scale, comparatively." With his sword, Noah poked at Deacon’s severed, mutated arm. "Then again, you are merely a poor imitation, a degraded copy of the true Profane. At least you were a good source of data during the fight, and I’m sure there are plenty of secrets I can squeeze out of you. Be glad to know your existence was of some benefit to me."

Noah then perked up, hearing the sound of wingbeats. He gazed up at the moon, seeing a massive creature circling overhead. His eyes widened, feeling something he was not used to, a shiver crawling up his spine. His spiritual senses told him that something dangerous was approaching, something that his body instinctively recoiled from, feeling the fear that his mind could not.

Noah conjured an illusory sniper rifle and gazed at the coming threat through his scope. It was a massive bird, some kind of condor, but what made his hair stand on end was the man standing on its back. Noah pulled the trigger, hitting the bird in the chest and making it stumble in the air, causing the man to fall off. He dropped out of the sky, with Noah hoping the fall would kill him while knowing it wouldn’t. The man landed with perfect grace, like a cat hopping off a table.

He wore a kimono-like robe and carried a sword on his belt while glaring with piercing eyes that exuded a deadly aura. His mana was black as tar but didn’t originate from any point. Instead, it surged up around him like dark flames.

"Ghoul," Noah muttered.

"You know my kind?" the man replied, flashing his long, sharp teeth.

"The third race of the Profane, the wielders of corrupted magic. But unlike him, you’re a genuine ghoul. I wonder if you’ll bring even better fortune than this fake did."

"The fake still has value, so I’ll be taking him with me," the man said, pointing to Deacon.

"Lord Tysinger!" Deacon gasped.

"I’m afraid he has a prior engagement. However, if you’d like to come with him, that can be arranged. I just have to make you travel-sized," said Noah.

"I have a better idea: Come with me. It’s clear you have some worth as a warrior, but there is so much more power you can possess, power we can give you. You would do well in our group."

"I’ve already heard the power speech from these pawns, and I’m not interested. However, I would like to know what the Profane are doing in these lands. I feel that would make for a much more stimulating conversation. Indulge me, won’t you?"

"It would be a waste of breath explaining things to a dead man. If you are not my ally, you will be my prey." As he spoke, he drew his sword, an elegant black katana with a serrated blade as if lined with shark teeth.

Then, with inhuman speed, he shot toward Noah with a single step, flying like an arrow. Noah instinctively fired several mana bullets while he stepped out of the way. Tysinger defended with his sword, blocking the illusions before they struck him. They failed to land, but countering them slowed him down enough for Noah to dodge the incoming slash by a hair’s breadth. Without missing a step, Tysinger turned and attacked Noah once more. Noah blocked the swing, but the strength behind it knocked him through the air, nearly breaking his arms in the process.

Noah hit the ground and rolled onto his feet, only for Tysinger to be upon him again, this time delivering a mighty downward swing. Noah parried the attack and directed Tysinger’s sword to the ground, where it struck with enough force to send dirt and rock flying. Noah lashed out with his sword from the resulting dust cloud, narrowly missing Tysinger’s face as he turned his head to the side.

He’s not even using magic, but he’s as strong and fast as Valia in her enhanced state. This is troublesome.

Noah continued the attack, raining slashes and stabs on his opponent. He couldn’t hope to defeat Tysinger in a match of speed or strength, but if he could keep him from building up momentum with a wide swing, he could hopefully endure any counterattack. Despite the difference in physical abilities, Tysinger was stuck on defense, facing the sheer cliffs of Noah’s skill. That changed instantly when he intercepted Noah’s incoming strike and retaliated with an uppercut slash, subverting his guard.

The serrated blade sliced him across his chest, and though it failed to get past his armor, it left a cut on his cheek. The small nick should have merely stung, but throbbing pain swept through Noah’s face. His immediate thought was poison, but his eyes widened when he saw blood flowing from the wound and into the air, being drawn to Tysinger’s sword. More than the few drops such a scratch would leave behind, this was a crimson stream being forcefully pulled from his veins.

Noah formed an illusory shotgun in his free hand and blasted Tysinger. Not even the Profane swordsman could defend against such an attack, and he was left stunned long enough for Noah to escape his range and splash a healing potion on his face. That was all the time he had as Tysinger rained slashes down upon him. Noah did his best to defend, but Tysinger’s sword skill was revealing itself, equal to Valia’s and his own, and the gap between their physical abilities could not be crossed.

Noah’s composite armor protected him from any deep wounds, but every serration on the blade was another chance to break the skin, and every scratch, no matter how small, hemorrhaged blood, which all flowed to Tysinger’s sword and clung to the edge like a scarlet sheath. Finally, Tysinger stopped and touched the tip of his sword to his tongue, drinking Noah’s blood as if from a large syringe.

"Your blood tastes surprisingly young, and is remarkably healthy, fitting for such a warrior. But there’s something else… an exotic flavor. It doesn’t taste like any human I’ve ever had. You are worthy of devouring."

Noah, momentarily woozy from all the blood he had lost, took a gulp of a health potion. "Lots of vegetables, exercise, and a full night’s sleep, that’s the key. You have a different secret, though, don’t you? You don’t use a parasite, you were bitten."

"Indeed. I was once just a human swordsman, like yourself."

"You were never like me."

"Doomed to die with my talent unfulfilled and my name forgotten, I longed for something better. When my predecessor offered me the power of the Profane, I accepted without hesitation, and now stand as one of the greatest warriors to walk the land."

"Everyone dies unfulfilled, everyone is eventually forgotten. Just because you don’t age like you once did doesn’t make you immune to the ravages of time. The blade of inevitability severs all dreams and destinies."

"And it is I who wields the blade of inevitability. Tonight, it is your destiny that will be severed." He held out his sword, and the blade began to glow, with Noah’s blood burning like crimson flames. "Sanguine Wrath!"

He slashed the ground as though swinging a golf club, and a wave of scarlet energy surged from the blade, tearing apart the earth like a plow as it screamed toward Noah. Noah set off in a run, dodging the first blast and the ones that came after. He countered with his mana bullets, but Tysinger proved better at avoiding than Deacon and continued firing off attacks.

Noah knew this was not an opponent he could defeat while holding back. Tysinger’s reflexes and strength made standard attacks useless. However, he wasn’t ready to lay all his cards on the table. He brushed his hand across his eye, activating his invisibility with his clone overlapping. He couldn’t use his guns while his invisibility was active, but his sword would hopefully be enough. As he channeled mana into the steel, the blade began to glow, and a circle of runes appeared. It was purely an aesthetic enchantment, but it would look like warrior magic to others.

Noah separated from his clone and charged toward Tysinger, and then he and his illusory counterpart raised their swords. At that moment, a look of confusion crossed Tysinger’s face, and he instinctively lashed out, blindly intercepting Noah’s incoming slash. Their swords collided, and Noah was repelled, with the two warriors equally bewildered by what had just happened.

"Taking this seriously, are you?" Tysinger asked.

"You could say that. You aren’t the only one with a fancy sword," said Noah, speaking through his clone.

"So, your blade lets you cut foes from a distance?"

"It’s very well made."

The reason why Noah had his clone mimic his actions while he attacked was to bait his enemy with false clues, hiding the true nature of his magic. Tysinger’s conclusion was exactly what Noah wanted him to think, but no one had ever blocked this attack. He tried again, this time having his clone swing its sword continuously in a figure-eight. Tysinger assumed a defensive stance but didn’t react to the continuous feints. Noah again went in for the kill, but Tysinger would spontaneously counter and reflect Noah's attack each time he tried to cut him.

Noah returned to his clone and launched a barrage of flashbangs, drowning Tysinger in light and sound. He hissed in pain and shut his eyes to try and block it out, but even then, when Noah tried to attack from behind while invisible, he spun around and intercepted his attack.

"You have neat tricks, but that’s all they are. No matter how you might try to deceive me, your killing intent is clear as day. It doesn’t matter how resolved you are to win if you aren’t strong enough to make it happen!"

‘So that’s it. Even if I can fool his physical senses, his spiritual senses can pierce my illusions,’ Noah thought as he returned to his clone and pulled two cards out of his sleeves. "Interesting! Let’s put that awareness to the test, shall we? Flashbang, Gas Conversion."

Once more, Noah bombarded Tysinger with flashbangs while a noxious odor filled the air. It was the smell of alchemy, but existed only as a sensation. Though Noah could not cast magic, he could replicate specific characteristics like sight and sound or, in this case, smell. His mana was spreading through the air and replicating the abundant oxygen, and those illusory atoms were bonding into ozone.

Immaterial and inert, this imaginary gas had one influence on the world: deceiving smell receptors. Already waterboarded by light and sound, Tysinger was left nearly overwhelmed by the dense, pungent smell of ozone filling the battlefield. His superior ghoul senses were now his undoing, and try as he might to escape the flashbangs, he could not find clear air. More of Noah’s mana assaulted his senses, this time as a deep smokescreen, smothering Tysinger’s already-decimated eyesight. He moved wildly through the cloud, running and jumping in all directions to escape the sensory assault, then stopped when he heard Noah’s voice.

"You would be wise to not underestimate my tricks."

Tysinger charged towards the source, and with what little awareness he retained, he slashed a figure in the smoke. At that moment, an arrow struck him in the chest from behind, wrapped in Noah’s invisibility aura. It pierced Tysinger’s heart with pinpoint accuracy, and he staggered forward. A second arrow hit him in the back of the neck, fracturing his vertebrae but missing the nerves.

Noah had used all his poisoned arrows on Deacon and hoped this would be enough to turn the tide against Tysinger. However, as he readied another arrow, the ghoul spun around and shot towards him, launching himself through the air with a single step. His senses were still scrambled, so he directed himself based on the arrows’ trajectories.

Noah narrowly dodged Tysinger’s blind thrust and opened up some distance as his foe stopped to rip out the arrows. Clearly, his bow wouldn’t get him anywhere, not when he was fighting an enemy who could shrug off a pierced heart. His only chance was to immobilize him the same way he had Deacon.

Noah formed an illusory grenade launcher and lobbed a bomb at Tysinger. It exploded at his feet, battering him with another assault on the senses. He burst from the dust cloud, sprinting across the battlefield to avoid the coming bombs. After six rounds, Noah paused, out of ammo and dizzy from the mana expenditure. Flashbangs were easy, as they were simple light and sound, but though his bullets were immaterial, they were made of much denser mana, and it seemed the caliber he used played a significant role, both in how long his enemy was stunned and how much mana was required. Small bullets didn’t drain much, but larger rounds and explosives took more out of him.

With that brief pause, Tysinger turned and shot toward Noah and the two locked blades. Noah was pushed back by Tysinger’s inhuman strength, but when he went in for the kill, a submachine gun appeared in Noah’s hand, and he sprayed the ghoul with bullets. Even Tysinger, his mind fortified by centuries of combat, hesitated as his body assumed a fatal wound.

In that moment, Noah went in for a slash, and this time, Tysinger couldn’t block. Noah’s sword carved him from shoulder to hip, spilling his black blood onto the ground. His body was resilient, and were it not for Valia’s training, Noah would have never made the cut without warrior magic. Noah shot him again with a burst of ammo, then stepped forward and slashed him across the legs, trying to slow him down. The wounds healed instantly, and before Noah could attack a third time, Tysinger regained his footing and zoomed around to Noah’s blind spot, aiming for the back of his neck for a decapitation strike.

Noah ducked down to avoid the blade, then turned around with a slash of his own. His counter was blocked, but he pressed on, dual-wielding the gun and sword. Each time Noah shot Tysinger, he lost strength and focus. It was only for a fraction of a second, but it weakened his attacks enough for Noah to block and go on the offensive. The sounds of gunshots and steel-against-steel formed a continuous crackle as the two warriors fought with their lives on the line.

However, as the battle progressed, the gap between Tysinger and Noah began to open again. Tysinger was getting better at dodging Noah’s bullets and preserving his physical advantage, leaving Noah with no time to catch his breath or restore his mana. Though Noah managed to cut him on more than one occasion, the speed at which the wounds healed proved how little they mattered.

Finally, Tysinger backed off and raised his sword. "I make you this offer once more, join the Profane."

"Those parasites seem like more trouble than they’re worth."

"I’m not talking about the parasites. I’m offering to turn you into a genuine ghoul. My kin use their venom to build peerage and amass servants, or horde it to preserve their own power. I, however, walk the path of the swordsman, and swore that I would pass it on only to those I deem worthy, those who could surpass me, just as my predecessor did. I offer my power to you, because you have proved yourself a worthy vessel, and will become an even mightier warrior than myself."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m going to have to respectfully turn you down. It’s true, I could do a great many things with that power, but when it comes to what truly matters, and what it is I desire, my instincts tell me that power would just trip me up in the final stretch. Thank you, though."

"What a shame and what pleasure, to kill such a worthy opponent," Tysinger said.

A black magic circle appeared around him, and a torrent of red mana engulfed the blade. All around the destroyed village, the corpses of the slain fiends and centaurs similarly glowed, with their blood shimmering like molten metal, being drawn into the air and forming a howling tornado of crimson energy. Noah could feel the power gathering, on par with Aithorn’s Divine Winged Snake. This wasn’t some basic spell he was throwing out; he was trying to draw the curtain on this fight.

"You have given me the best fight I’ve had in ages. For that, rather than eat you, I will honor you with my most powerful attack. What is your name, warrior, so that I may carve it into my heart?"

"I am Noah, the Wandering Spirit."

"Noah, in oceans of blood, you and I live, and in blood, you shall meet your end. Scarlet Maelstrom!"

He then brought down his sword, striking the ground and setting off a thunderous burst like a volcanic eruption. Crimson mana, splashing like water and burning like flames, surged forward in a directed explosion while annihilating everything it touched. The night sky lit up from the intensity of the light, and the ground shook from the force of the blast. Everything in front of Tysinger, almost the entire centaur village, was reduced to a smoldering crater. Once the smoke cleared, there was no sign of Noah. Tysinger heard no breath, saw no corpse, and smelled no blood.

Satisfied, he searched for Deacon and found only his degenerated corpse. When Noah sliced off Deacon’s arm, he cut off the connection to the parasite, causing Deacon’s body to rapidly degrade. Tysinger sighed and gave a loud whistle. Answering his summons, the massive condor he arrived on descended. In actuality, it was a beastman who lost his mind upon receiving the power of the parasite. The resulting mutations gave him ungodly strength at the cost of his sanity and human form, creating a perfect mount. Tysinger collected Deacon’s parasite and hopped onto the bird’s back, and it took off, flying east.

Once he was gone, Noah appeared behind the crater, drained of mana and unable to maintain his illusions. With the inevitable outcome of the battle clear and his exhaustion mounting, he had decided to cut his losses at the end. Rather than interrupt Tysinger’s spell and prolong the battle, he hid behind him under the cloak of invisibility and let his clone take the attack. It was a shame to lose Deacon, but survival was the priority. Now, he just had to join back up with Valia.

----------

The sun shone upon Valia, blessing her with its light and warmth as she slowly stirred. She was passed out on the riverbank, still clutching Shannon’s hand. Through surging water and across jagged rocks, Valia had chased her down as the raging river swept the young woman farther and farther beyond her reach. Not even her elven grace and magic had spared her the full brunt of the pursuit, but propelled by desperation, she refused to give up and pulled Shannon from the water before collapsing. Now, they were washed up on the sand like flood debris, with no idea where they were. She crawled over to Shannon and tried to wake her up.

"Shannon! Shannon! Answer me!"

Shannon’s eyes slowly opened and then she violently coughed, expelling some of the water she had inhaled. "Valia, is that you?"

"Yeah, it’s me. Are you hurt?"

"I don’t know."

"Here, drink this." Valia pulled out a healing potion, took a gulp for herself, and gave the rest of Shannon.

"My father, is he all right? Where is he?"

The elf was silent, fighting back tears, but that was enough of an answer for Shannon, and where Valia succeeded, she failed. Valia embraced her, pulling her close. "I’m sorry, Shannon. I’m so, so sorry. I wanted to save him, I did, but I… I just wasn’t strong enough," she murmured, unable to contain her anguish. Through tears, she apologized over and over again, hoping the pain in her heart would dull, but it only grew worse.

The two women cried together for a few minutes before Shannon could steady her breathing. "I have to go find my grandfather and the others. I have to find them. Please, will you help me?"

"Of course, let’s hurry."

With Valia running on two legs and Shannon on four, they followed the river upstream, searching for where they were separated from the rest of the tribe. It took the better part of the morning, dawning on the women just how far the river had carried them. More than once, they stopped as Valia and Shannon discovered a body or possession of the centaur tribe thrown upon the rocks. In time, the sun that once warmed them was replaced by storm clouds, heavy and dark like a mountain of coal.

Finally, as they arrived at the cliff where the centaurs had faced off against Korbin and the fiends, the autumn rains began to pour. Bodies littered the ground, most of them Shannon’s kind, those who fought to the death. They all showed signs of being fed on, sporting cuts from butchery and bite marks from when the fiends simply tore into them with their teeth. The warriors that fought to the death were made examples of, with their heads put on pikes. Anything the centaurs carried had been either trampled or tossed into the river. Hoofprints and drag marks led away from the scene, now being washed away by the rain, removing all hope of tracking down the enslaved tribe.

Looking upon the scene, Shannon collapsed and screamed in agony, her face wet with tears and rain. Everything she cared for was taken from her in a single night. All she could do now was weep while the rain pummeled her trembling shoulders. Valia kneeled beside her and held her tight, knowing that pain better than anyone. Having lost her island and kin ages ago and turned her back on Uther to search for her brother, she knew what Shannon was experiencing and how much it hurt.

Valia and Shannon worked together to bury the slain centaurs and make a decent memorial to honor them. The dead fiends were simply tossed into the river. It was midday when Valia stopped with her elf ears twitching.

"Someone is coming. I think it’s a fiend. Shannon, stay behind me."

She looked to the horizon and saw the approaching figure. She was downwind and could clearly smell its revolting stench and the aroma of blood.

"Please, no more. I can’t handle anymore," Shannon whispered in exhaustion.

"What in the world?" Valia exclaimed as the fiend came into view.

It was one of the armored berserkers that had chased after the centaur herd, only now, he was missing his arms. As he drew closer, Valia realized he was dragging something behind him from a chain wrapped around his neck. It was one of the sleds the centaur used to carry their possessions when they traveled, and sitting upon it was Noah.

"Noah!" she called out while waving him over.

Rattling the chains, Noah ushered the fiend over to their location. "Whew, finding you wasn’t easy. It’s hard following tracks in the dark, and I lost my horse in the battle. Had I not come across this guy lying in the mud, I would still be walking."

"I did what you wanted and got you here, now give me back my arms and let me go," the fiend panted with a hoarse voice while blood oozed from the stumps of his shoulders.

"Arms aren’t a right; they’re a privilege, one you have yet to earn. You haven’t yet earned the privilege of speech either. Shall I revoke that as well?" The fiend fell silent, and Noah turned back to Valia. "Don’t mind him. He was very uncooperative at first, but I found some incentive to get him moving. Anyway, I’m glad to see you’re alive."

"Same to you. Did you defeat their leader?"

"Yes, but I wasn’t able to bring him in for questioning. What happened here?"

"Shannon and I fell in the river, so I didn’t see it exactly, but it’s clear the tribe was captured and taken away."

"That’s not good. We need to join back up with Reynolds and his men, get to Welindar."

"Shannon’s coming with us. She has no one and nowhere to go."

Noah looked past her to the despondent young woman, weary with grief sorrow. "As you wish. Just don’t let her become a burden."

"I’m sure she can help you with your alchemy."

"That’s not what I mean."

Noah and Valia briefly gazed into each other’s eyes, but Valia was the first to look away. "I killed her father, Noah. How can I walk away after that? I have to help her."

"I know you do." Noah walked over to Shannon and rested her hand on her shoulder. "You’re coming to Welindar with us. Things may be bleak now, but you aren’t alone."

"My father… he disappeared several months ago, and then he came back. So it’s possible that the rest of my tribe won’t be killed, right?"

"If we can defeat the Profane, then there is hope we can find them in time. We can help each other."

Shannon turned away from Noah and retrieved her grandfather’s sword and bow from the nearby memorial. "In the name of my ancestors, I swear I’ll save my tribe, and I’ll help you rid the land of this evil."

Please comment! Tell me your thoughts!

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