The Wielder of Death Magic

“Nothing you do will help,” laughed Artanos, “-even if you manage to win, I’ve ensured the realm is sealed. Nothing will help, Igna, nothing will. I’m sorry,” he resettled upon the risen throne, “-for I have won.”

“Winning?” said a distorted voice, “-losing?” what used to be Igna seemed at a loss. The very essence of the current world seemed off. Every step taken, every breath, the littlest of motions stuck. The actions repeated within the distorted spaces, “-who are you to lay judgment on me?” firm regard clawed from the depths of hell. It horned onto the majestical throne of the god, “-ha-ha-ha-ha,” Katherine’s lifeless body dropped at Igna’s feet, “-Artanos...”

He made no remarks, save a flick of the finger. Bronze portals erupted Clockwork fighters of differing size and strength, “-my, Igna,” said a solemn smirk, “-no matter the show of power; nothing changes. I will learn everything about-”

“Shut up,” an equally demented fissure opened. He rose an emotionless glance, ‘-die.’

A man on the verge of self-destruction, on the path of asura, the pursuit of never-ending power. Gophy watched, “-it’s gone,” she mumbled, “-I’m sorry, Igna, we had to...” alas, the preparation didn’t suffice, for when she scanned the battlefield, it was no demon, nor God. No words described the amount of darkness covering the ground. Alfred, Staxius, and Igna, the personas merged and fought, swapping from demon to vampire – the powers complemented each other. More enemies leaped, and greater grew the rebuttal.

‘Igna,’ narrowed the god, ‘-take it in, this is who you truly are,’ blood and guts, mechanical parts and cogs. Bodies on top of bodies on top of bodies there laid no end, ‘-a personage made for the sole purpose of slaughter. Forgo thy worldly shackles. Romance, companionship, it doesn’t matter for a blade’s duty is to slay. Regardless of the sugarcoating brought by chivalry – taking the blood of the bad for the good is, ultimately, taking blood. Show me thy true potential.’ Just as he settled, a dagger snapped millimeters from Artanos’ face.

.....

‘My cheek,’ he touched, ‘-blood...’ in the few moments of reflection, a terrifying entity laid within a circle made of lifeless fighters. It panted, socked to the brim in blood, tearing carnivorously into the flesh of the maimed. Unknown symbols to even the God of Knowledge hovered, *Crunch,* crimson orbs swallowed. In a silent motion, Orenmir pointed at Artanos, “-weak, strong, face me,” he added calmly.

“I think not,” grinned the ring-leader, “-I’ve had my fun for today. Katherine’s dead, won’t thee take care of thy lover?” said he smugly. The defeated shuffled. Broken limbs joined a greater entity, a massive abomination of remnants. Legs affixed onto a torso of severed heads – lack of blood added a hauntingly ghostly paleness. “-No matter the choice,” he resumed, “-the outcome was decided on the very moment thee entered my realm. Rather, the very instant I decided to unleash Katherine’s core.”

‘Yellow... drown in a sea of black...’ shock forced his gaze onto Gophy’s cross, nothing save the macabre constraints stood against a background of distant crimson. ‘-Betrayal...’ passed the mind, ‘-look at her...’ Gophy’s enigmatic persona, so he had come to know and trust showed a flamboyant side. Her cheeks reddened, her outfits revealing and her way of looking down slashed deeply. Her dark figure stood against the throne, and in a way, her leaning into Artanos’ ears, the way her lips moved and how her stare changed, ‘-she feels bad for me...’ *thud,* an inner rustled.

“Allow me to explain, foolish Igna. Gophy changed sides and gave her a symbol on my order. She would have swapped sides no matter what, with or without symbol, Gophy’s my lover, and I adore her all so much. Why didn’t I accept her symbol? Simple, her knowledge far outreaches her combat prowess. Chaos is not an element to be messed with easily, nor is it in any way beneficial. Guardian Deity, the title is rather refreshing and kind. It shows how much you respect her, and even when she left, you accepted the departure cordially. I have nothing to reprimand, honestly, nothing,” the softspoken voice halted, “-which is why I had Katherine kidnapped and poisoned. How? I see the expression ask. Hence, I reply, Empress of the Wracian Empire. How could you ignore such a political advantage? We’re fighting on a different level field, Igna. Whilst thee strives for the sake of Orin, I fight for everything else. You’re not me, you’re not even worth the association to my name, dear ol’ kindling.” Katherine’s mechanical steps passed and bore no emotions. Binding chains wrapped and pulled, “-Syhton played the part of a victim well,” he said, “-look, you used every bit of strength thee had. Expanding a realm? Screw that, you can barely breathe on your own. Look at you,” and there it was bare for all to see, the wound’s bled without repair – the presence significantly weakened, “-nothing but the shadow of the prior incarnation. NAMES WORTHY OF PRAISE! STAXIUS HAGGARD, CURSED KING ALFRED. YOU’RE NOTHING!” he thundered, “-A FUCKING CHEF, THE ALCHEMIST?” he laughed, “-WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

Condemnation, the knees weaken, “-lost thy sense of bravado, huh?”

“Last passage, Chapter three of the book of Ortious’s tale, “-as the wind swept the ocean, as the great wave grunted over the horizon. Ortious raises his head to god of the sea. Ortious, a man of humble means, a man of weak stature, faces the waves head-on. An unyielding spirit, he glares and screams – the waves crash; rending asunder his home and family. The weak Ortious weeps; deeper darkness corrodes. An unyielding spirit stung and tainted – betrayal at the hand of his god, Persee,” he stood and tugged. A nauseating crack echoed – the right hand severed, by which he spun and tugged and slashed at the left. Threads of blood lingered – an uncomforting silence gripped Gophy’s inner strings.

“Artanos, we should stop,” she said, “-I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“What?” he threw a disappointing side-glance, “-I get it’s hard to watch such a sorry state. And to think the high praises thee sang. Look, there’s the truth... He’s lost it.”

“The betrayed Ortious stand blessed to never die by the sea’s wrath, before what little remained, nothing. The sea reclaimed what was hers – settlements washed anew. Thus, Ortious calls the devil, not the gods, for the gods have stolen his precious.”

“-I mean,” Artanos continued, “-he’s mumbling...”

“The tale of Ortious,” whispered the lifeless Katherine, “-he whispers of Ortious.”

“Did she have a soul?”

“No, I thought we killed her already,” they narrowed, “-who are you?”

“An envoy from the God of Death,” yellow washed in black turned whitewashed in grey.

*Thud,* another ripple rattled the inside, “the devil asks, ‘-what doth thee offer?’ Ortious replies, ‘-hell.’

“Close the realm, NOW!”

“Why?”

“JUST DO IT!”

“ORTIOUS’S DILIGENCE WAS NEVER REPAIRED,” Igna yelled.The vocal cords seemed to snap, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, naught remains for I’ve seized it all, BEGONE,” a clap, *Tactus Interitus.*

Ashes rained, everything decayed. “-MY NECK,” Artanos dropped onto one knee. The raised throne shattered. Katherine’s head split, “-WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” the looming figure marched, nonchalant to the crumbling domain, “-YOU PSYCHOPATH, ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?” Igna hung silently at Katherine, oblivious to Artanos’s taunts, “-if I hadn’t released the domain, we would have all died.” Gophy shed a few tears, “-what’s with you?”

“Ortious...” she sniffled, “-isn’t the tale of a hero nor is it a valorous tale. It’s the story of how a man was deceived by what he thought was a true value. It’s the haunting tale of a person who experiences nothing but loss – a man who was shunned by reality itself.”

“-And, how does that relate to us?”

“It means,” she gulped, “-we’ve driven him into a wall,” she paused, “-as the waves settled on the day of the moon. Ortious exits Persee’s shrine, after one last prayer. The starry night glanced upon the idle cabin. Stray shifts of the curtains revealed blood and the bludgeoned head of a god.”

“...”

“Weak Ortious walks,” continued a distant rumble, “-carrying the burden of guilt. He sold himself for revenge, and when the devil returned to claim – Ortious vanished, leaving only Persee’s soul and symbol as payment.” Crimson threads fixed into floating daggers.

A palm from Gophy halted millimeters from Igna’s closely approaching chest, “-you’re not worthy to face us yet,” a shock sent him crashing into the distance.

“We leave, now,” she ordered, “-I know that look of nothingness.”

“What look of nothingness?” her eyes widened in fear, and a crimson dagger drew blood and stabbed. ‘-he missed,’ she jumped back, ‘-Artanos saved me.’

“What’s wrong, Gophy?” the outside world snuck into the faded domain, “-did you look away?”

“No,” she gulped, “-he’s trying to kill us.”

“I don’t care,” a legion of soldiers rose, “-long as we have my people, we won’t lose against the likes of him.”

“The likes of who?” resounded a petrifying dullness, “-me?” crimson threads wrapped and pulled, locking Gophy’s neck from behind, “-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha,” no sense of persona, “-I’ll kill you all,” flickers of uncontrolled mana exploded in the distance. Those carrying blood were pulled and flung by Extria. Unfortunate were those who laid emptily on the ground with opened chests.

They teleported, “-try again,” said the god of knowledge to no avail. Igna pulled and cleanly severed a soldier’s head, “-this is bad, used too much power. I’m running on reserves.”

“We seriously need to leave.”

“Don’t leave the party too early,” they side-stepped subconsciously – massive blades cracked the ground, “-I’m not tired. Play with me... play with me... play with,” *thud,* he dropped onto one knee, “-souls of the lamented, souls of the destitute. I call upon the powers granted in my previous incarnations, I call on Staxius’s name, I call upon Alfred’s name, I grant thee authority to do as pleased with my body. Sever all mortal ties and destroy, the, wor-” three figures leaped to restain the psychotic king.

“Disappointing,” said a man of pure white hair lined by crimson, “-it seems we were forced to take action.”

“My, what a pleasant surprise,” said a darker voice, “Artanos,” knuckles cracked, “-have thee missed me, your dear ol’ pal, Alfred?” insidious lick of the lips had the god tremble.

“Master-”

“No,” exclaimed Staxius, “-those who betray trust have no right to call me master.’

“BUT.’

“SILENCE!” everything halted, a power, unlike anything ever felt seemed to squeeze Artanos’ pocket reality, “-else,” he glared, “-I’ll kill you.”

“Now, now,” a humble man knelt at Igna’s side, holding him tightly as if a guardian reassuring their child, “-we mustn’t wish another’s death,” the humble-faced man turned, “-Artanos, such greed is unbefitting a god.”

“Origin?”

“Don’t address me so casually,” a snap conjured another realm, a place within a painting, a place where size, matter, and color laid per the painter’s whim. Bloodied tears scattered, “-Gophy, Artanos, make no mistake, Igna’s far from weak,” the three-entity laid in wait, “-for us, he’s the perfect host, a person we admire taken to hell and back. Katherine, poor lass. They had a lovely future together; I could foresee a kind and welcoming bond. The kinds we all sought to obtain. Alas, having driven him to the breaking point – there’s no return.”

“We might have lost the battle,” fired Alfred.

“We haven’t lost the war,” completed Staxius, they turned and merged into Igna. The erratic cries and screams eased.

“Hidros,” commented Gophy, “-we’re in Hidros. Look, the capital’s over there.”

A look of complete anguish, “-I don’t accept it,” he gritted, “-I don’t accept it!”

“Accept what?”

“THAT HE’S WORTHY OF SUCH STRONG ALLIES.”

“... IGNA!”