Legacy of the Defender (The Defender Series Book 1) (46 page)

This was no soldier for he had no honor.  My death would not serve God or mankind
.
Delirium began to set in.  I could see him laughing at me...not just laughter but hysterics as if he knew the secrets of the universe and nothing mattered.  I started to shake with laughter at the last part.  No sound came out, however.  I wheezed in exhausted sobs.  His goals were to enslave or destroy mankind and this world.  The idea of him caring about anything other than not angering his father was most likely the farthest from his mind.  After all he was a daemon lord and our souls were like eating a truffle when plucked from a mortal coil.  I felt the sword start to cauterize the wound.

What would my soul taste like?
  This thought did not even run its course when a twinge inside of me told me it was bad.  Light began to fade; he grew blurry and I repeatedly blinked as if something in my eyes told me to pay attention.  Tears formed.  My vision cleared slightly.

Gloating.  He was actually gloating.  About twenty feet in front of me he sat down hard.  The oozing ichor ran from its wing still, creating a small crater behind and to the right side of it.  I felt at peace in that moment and not defeated as I had from several seconds before.  In the solitude of that moment, I realized my hands had found the blade sticking through my chest cavity.  It hurt to actually lay hands on the blade as if it completed the circuit like a ground for electricity.  My hands heated up as if I was holding a hot iron.  I was a little confused, as if watching myself do something from very far away.

He spoke
.

"It hurts?  Blade not of the horde, but from the life,” he motioned around us, “and feed faster as you weaken.”  He pointed at me and leaned in, breathing deeply. “Learned your tricks.  Too simple.  Your flesh burns, soon I shall feast."  A long gurgling laugh escaped his lips; a slight trace of ichor was still present on them.

"Father… pleased...I finally assault… frail God's attention …will weaken Heaven and make this place... ripe for consumption… eternity to feed.  Many souls."  Ichor sprayed the ground in front of him.  At that moment, I began to push the hilt of the sword away from me.  The resistance of the sealed wound made it difficult.  For several minutes now, I had no air and did not know where my strength came from.  I did not doubt but began to pray.  My inner voice reached up to God, not in a begging approach but thanking him for giving this opportunity to serve man and for the tools he had granted me through my teacher and my master.  I thanked him for Eryn and Jason, as misguided as he was, and said I hoped I could save them somehow.  Intense pain started as the flesh gave up its bond to the weapon.  At least I knew why it passed right through my defenses.

"You must focus to persevere," the chorus sang in my mind.  With tiny movements and my one lung expired of air, the impossible happened.

An inch of the blade slid out.

"Father in Heaven, give me the strength to rid this world of my mortal enemy."  The words exploded from my lips as I felt a small amount of trapped air free itself and flow out of me.  "Your humble servant shall prevail this day, as the hordes of Hell do come my way."

Another inch. 

I gasped for air, sucking it in like a glass of water to a person dying of thirst.  Strength trickled back, but pain now erupted on my insides along anywhere the blade touched the grievous wound.  I knew its vast energy, which it was pulling from the very air around me, lent life to this blade.

"I shall not fall before this evil this day," I yelled as a few more inches gave way and pain erupted tenfold inside of me.

He was laughing and almost rolling on his back.  I found that to be very odd unless it was looking forward to another go at me somehow, even though another go felt impossible.  I refused to die with this icon of destruction through my chest.  The cackling slowed to a giggle.  A glint in his eye told me that suffering had to be his prize right now, and he was eating well.  The feeling in my charred hands was gone, to the point that all that was possible was to palm the blade and draw it forth.  With each attempt to release it, more of the flesh stayed behind on the metal, slowly continuing to sizzle.  The smell was disgusting; especially knowing it was my own. 

Halfway out and he was still laughing and gloating. 
I expected at any moment that he would do something.  My focus now was on healing.  I did not know how I could do anything but maintain my balance and continue to withdraw this blade from me.  Energy started to flow around inside and repair the damage.  Thankfully none of the healing showed externally yet, as to not give away my attempt to act.  With no idea of when that might happen, misdirection was buying me time. 

A flash of light came from behind him right as the remainder of the blade came free.  His head turned.  Before he could speak something hit him square in the face, knocking him flat to the ground from a sitting position.  He hit the ground with a tremendous force.  Smoke rolled up from beneath his half buried face, driven into the ground; the skin was charred and boiling from the intense heat and damage.  A foul smell filled my nostrils as the concussive force rolled towards me.

I did not even get a chance to let go of the blade as it slide from my hands.  The rest of my flesh went with it, the entire hand of skin.  I looked down at the burned muscle.  Blood flowed from the back where the uncooked skin had torn free only moments before.  There was not even time to be concerned.  My healing focus turned fully outward.  Not being anywhere close to fully recovered, the skin started to heal slowly and painfully.  It was quite an amazing image to watch the flesh mend itself and come back from nothing.  The energy within me flowed with such power.  I could feel it as it tapped into my core, pulling all my strength left in reserve.

"Take this moment to heal...you are not the target of his ire," my blades declared mentally.

My attention diverted for too long.  I looked up as a gust of wind buffeted me.  The daemon was not prone before me but was now airborne and leaping or flying towards Eryn and the man putting the barrier over the two of them; only the man was now not standing in the protection of his bubble, but had moved forward.  I was not sure why he would do this.  Perhaps he could not maintain the protection and attack the daemon at the same time.  Regardless, he did not remain in place but was now several feet in front of it.

This proved to be his mistake.  Energy gathered around him that flowed to his hands as a focus point.  Its brilliant light flowed over him like lightning.  The color was light blue for a moment.  There was a crackling sound heard from my position, even at my distance.  Patterns both geometrical and arcane were appearing in the air as he spoke.  His words were not audible to me.  He had a daemon leaping towards him and his gaze was certainly in the air with a concerned but concentrated look.

I had to act.  Seconds remained before the creature would land and kill this man for sure.  Looking to the heavens, I felt the remaining energy within me surge through my limbs as if I had been shocked suddenly.  With my feet beneath me, in a crouched position, healing energy erupted from deep inside as it rolled with blinding speed to my fingertips.  I felt my swords strong in my healed hands.  The cold metal was a comfort to my soul, driving back the feeling of incompletion I was experiencing in the moments before when I was nearly dead.

Time slowed.  The need to act came into play.  My legs flexed and gravity let me go.  Whistling past my head, the wind picked up speed.  Inside me, the energy waned enough that I knew landing was going to hurt, as I would probably not have it within me to do it gracefully.  My eyes looked to my target.  From high above, the daemon descended upon the man, and for a moment I was sad for not knowing his name.  He bought me the time needed to take action, and I could not protect Eryn at the same time.  As I watched helplessly, his valiant effort made the difference.  Bards would sing of it.

He was about to die.

XXXVI

Answers

My ascent reached its zenith when the Warlock’s spell erupted from his fingers a moment too late.  I did not study any sort of arcane arts but had heard enough from my teacher and my master to know that the longer it takes to cast, the stronger the spell is.  The air around me was devoid of energy at the last second before he finished his incantation, but I did not see it make its short journey towards its target.  The monstrous body of my nemesis blocked my view of him a second later.

Another barrier appeared shimmering like a force field, but it appeared a moment too late.  My angle put me high above so I got an elevated view of a hero’s last stand, but I still could not see all of it.  As the barrier exploded from the sheer force of the daemon smashing into it, the sound of shattering glass followed by the flash from the magic being released filled the area.

Energy rippled over the massive body of the daemon prince inducing a raging roar.  As soon as the barrier broke, its skin boiled like it fell into a flash cooker.  The putrid smell of this floated right up with the steam and smoke that rolled off the creature’s body.  I had smelled dead animals rotten for weeks in the woods that smelled better than what had just assaulted my nostrils.  In a matter of seconds, a gurgling scream came from below. 

Its massive body blocked my view of the event.  One could only imagine the horrific death the stranger had just experienced.  I cannot guess what it would be like to face such a menace without an edge of some sort.  The warlock certainly had an edge, but it proved to not be enough or the effectiveness of his choices had simply failed.  He paid with his life to buy me time, or perhaps he thought I was dead or dying.  After all, it is not every day someone can recover from a sword through the chest.  The wound still hurt, but the ability to disconnect from pain was rather helping.

After seeing me fall and bearing witness to what had just crawled out of the depths of whatever dimension that this portal connected to, he must have thought he was the only hope left.  I felt bad for him and would certainly tell his story somehow.  He died saving Eryn, also.  That sacrificed meant we could live.  That thought brought his importance to an even greater level.  A heavy price was paid.

Whatever he had just done made a mess of the prince and had his attention just long enough.  I must have created a shadow.  Suddenly the prince spun and threw his right wing up to try to defend.  The downward force added to the swing of both blades.  Sparks flew as my left blade passed right through the protruding portion of the poison gland.  It broke free, spiraling off to the side.   

A surprised look crossed his face as my blade cleaved the gland continuing toward his now exposed head.  My right blade caught him full in his left eye and sliced clean though to his huge cheek bone.  The fluid burst forward like the inside of egg breaking and spilling out.  The left blade caught and bit deep in to his forehead, right between his spine ridged eyebrows.  His brow split to the bone, which shattered as the top third of the sword passed right through his frontal lobe.  More foul fluids erupted.

My blades resonated with glee.

As I dropped further, the right sword sliced the cheek open to the bone, gouging it deeply and possibly through cleanly in some places.  The initial impact knocked him back.  Giant tracks ran down his face all the way to the bottom, emerging out from the grotesque, bony jaw.  Ichor flew everywhere.  He staggered backwards even farther.  The hope that he was going to actually drop dead from one lucky shot disappeared as he caught himself and regained his balance.

The ground met me hard.  My knees slowed the impact as much as they could, but due to fatigue, my balance was off.  Rolling over my right shoulder with a left twisting dive to the creatures’ right side, I found my feet and went immediately to a defensive stance.  Ichor hit the ground near me and the soil smoked immediately.  Momentum did its job getting me clear of the black rain  

My protections reengaged, hoping for a different outcome.  Not a moment too soon, his tremendous sword flashed out in a back handed swing.  I barely had time to get both blades up.  Even in a wounded state, the momentum hit me hard; both of my own swords struck back against me, allowing him to score a hit in my shoulder.  Had my defenses not been on, I had no doubts it would have been worse, or over.  Still the bite dug in and without hesitation drained some of my shield away.

I focused hard on restoring it, but the energy was not there.  My healing still tried to finish repairing the grievous and mortal wound he had inflicted previously; it would not slow down with a second wound.  There was no way the shield could take the brunt of his assaults and allow my body to heal in time.  I cursed under my breath and hated making a choice of which one was more important.  It was as though Father’s voice was in the back of my mind.  “Taking resources from one front to reinforce another battle front could cost you the one you take from, but win you the other.” 

In my mind, I weighed it out.  I wounded his face, weakening him.  He was crazed; making his threat level was far superior then before.  As I dodged a swing of his sword, trying to find an opening with no avail, the reminder of the lethality came back to me.

I was not in good shape at all.

Several swings felt wasted batting and redirecting his blade away from me when the answer revealed itself.  A swinging object is most dangerous at the tip because the speed of the weapon is fastest at the end.  If I got in close, he could not swing very effectively, but being close to his claws would be less effective for me, too.  His wings, if I stayed in front, would have a harder time hitting me. 

Off came the shield; my healing boost kicked in again, giving me speed and strength right away. 
Still far from full,
I thought while diving around the back of him appearing to be reckless.  The tail connected once, but only a slap that knocked me off balance, causing a scraped knee.  It started to heal right away, but the impact tore the rest of the fabric from the leg.  I laughed.  It may have not been much protection, but it was something.

It then dawned on me. 

Where were my armored clothes?

How comfortable they were, too!  That would have been helpful for this battle.  The last time I had seen them was when they created a portal to try to kill me in the hospital.  The irony of that moment was not lost on me.  Thankfully, my swords had appeared to me when I needed them most.

The huge daemon turned to face me the exact way I had hoped.  His blind eye could not track me as I came from his left.  As predicted, the left hand led trying to catch me with a back fist to knock me back.  He did not know I had hoped he would do this for I was ready.  My left blade stuck hard on the side of his wrist and sunk to the hilt.  I turned on the energy right as it sunk.  The flames burned into the core of the bone, igniting the marrow to a boil.

The right blade came down with precision and severed the hand.  He howled.  Then he roared so loud…the ground shook, costing me my footing.  Around me, the earth acted as though a meteor had struck.  Rings of exploding earth shot up around me and out.  Dirt, rocks, and other debris hit me everywhere.  It got in my mouth but thankfully not my eyes.  I coughed and spit while looking for a new angle to attack him.  The taste made me sick.  The blackened soil was diseased.  Filth and vile excretion fell from his body; it destroyed everything it touched.  It was not friendly to anything it touched.  Now he had me choking on it.

It is hard to explain what I bore witness to just then.  His movements became erratic and he staggered like a mechanical object that started and repeatedly stopped, only there were no gears or clockworks visible.  Just a spasm-like twitching motion where he would move, then stop for a second, and move again rolled through his body.  He was not looking around, nor paying any attention to my tactical position in relation to him.

“We do not trust this!” my blades spoke in but a whisper.

“Nor do I, he is hurt…but not done.” 

Logic told me that he was done.  With each step, his movement became less coordinated.  I caught a glimpse of the one good eye, fully dilated.  He was not focusing at all…only shaking.  The temptation to move in for the kill was overbearing.  Yet instinctually, patience told me to hold off and watch.  One does not attack an animal when it is in a death throw.  A few moments passed while circling.  I watched to confirm that he was done.  His balance was starting to become an issue; the motions of his feet became labored.  Tipping started to become a factor and I was convinced he was going to drop soon.  His body twisted like it was going to fall towards me when I caught his eye again. 

It gazed right at me.

Only my speed saved me.  I brought my shield up in the blink of an eye, and he lunged in, ending his ruse.  The attack was brutally fast.  A side long dive was my reaction, but not very graceful one for my strength was not itself.  I landed several feet away and rolled to my feet, regaining balance.  Immediately something caught my eye.

A large book had toppled from some sort of stand.  Rune like patterns adorned the front of it, with several geometric symbols.  Metal bindings and clasps were present but not fastened.  The material covering it looked very unique and made of some sort of hide like leather.  A language I recognized but could not read was on the front.  The enormity of this tome was not lost on me for it had to be at least two feet tall, eighteen inches or so across and nearly ten inches thick. 

Maybe I should throw it at the daemon
I chuckled. 
I bet that would hurt.

The wind to my left alerted me to duck and in doing so the blade I had been trying to avoid missed, but was dangerously close.  It slammed the ground making a small crater that showered me with earth; it sparked and arced with blue energy akin to eldridge fire running the length of its blade.  It left wisp-like tendrils of itself in the thin air to dance and slowly dissipate for several moments after the blade passed.  This energy was also rolling around on the ground where the blade hit.  Bugs and worms deep in the soil died crawling out into the small maelstrom, their lives stolen.  Energy ran back up the wicked blade.  It even jumped up from the ground to meet the sword’s tip on several occasions before finally dying out. 

I could see eldridge fire wrapping itself around the daemon’s arm and making its way to his mighty bicep and shoulder.  His skin rejuvenated wherever it touched.  The boiled flesh from the magic barrier began to mend and his cheek began to close.  I glanced to where the tome was and marked its location.  It was time to end this and see to Eryn’s safety.

Both hands tingled in anticipation of the vibrational impact from striking a solid object.  The memory of hitting rocks with an aluminum bat came to mind.  It hurt my hands each time the bat connected with a rock.  Many years of training had taught me how to hold a blade just so I maintained a firm grip, but loosely enough so every strike did not resonate through my hands to cause fatigue and damage.  The tingles had died down as I moved to reengage, knowing full well to parry would bring more of the same.

The daemon’s large destroyed eye was not healing yet, so again I engaged on the side with a bad eye and a missing hand was my best strategy.  The small stump was starting to protrude and regrow.  Ducking the sword, but not the stump, my movement carried me to that same side.  He connected hard, buckling my knees.  I was face-down in the soil by the time I realized he had connected with my shield but not my actual flesh.  It still hurt but prevented him from contacting my body, making me thankful for my gifts.
 

I rolled to my left towards him and then to my feet.  Inside his guard was where I wanted to be.  His sword could not get me there.  With everything I had, I knelt and leapt straight up under his chin.  Both tips of my blades extended at the last moment before impacting the underside of his jaw…meeting his misshaped, gnarled throat.  There was only slight resistance in this less protected area as the blades punctured.  They passed through the daemonic skin and flesh to find their mark. 

They sank to the hilt.

A spasm rocked his huge form as the hilts stopped as far as they could go.  The impact drove his chin up in the air as he staggered backwards, releasing his own blade that clambered to the ground a moment later.  Several more steps, more off balance, it began to look like a drunken waltz.  I held on tightly to my blades and looked over his shoulder in a rush, barely seeing past his now drooping wings.  The daemon prince was stumbling towards the portal, still dozens of feet away.  Talons tried to grab ahold of me, but could only enclose around the active barrier that had just saved me moments before.

He tried to squeeze and drive his claws into me.  I could feel them pressing against the shield in such a way that it began to collapse.  The only way that could happen would be if it was overloaded trying to protect me.  His footing failed and over we went.  I turned my blades with all I had and opened my arms to drag them across and through the inner parts of his throat.  The disgusting gout of ichor flung to each side when we hit the ground, and his hand enclosed on me.  Several huge claws found their way into my chest.  I screamed.  The degree of damage did not register yet, but he punctured my torso, taking my air.  My own crimson life slowly flowed down his claws.

Light headed, cracked ribs, and bleeding, I managed to push up from his chest enough to kneel.  In doing so, I inadvertently drove one of the claws in deeper into my back, causing pain which made me black out.  I awoke on my side, fallen from his grasp and lying on one of the nasty leathering wings.  My skin was on fire from that acrid powder residing there.  It covered a large portion of my body and stuck to me with my own blood, sweat, and other daemonic fluids acquired in the last several minutes.