The Wielder of Death Magic

‘Will this be a fight worth remembering or will it just be something inconsequential,’ the heartbeat dropped, the breathing turned slow and composed. The eyes and face turned emotionless; any unnecessary thing such as background noise, the presence of unimportant beings was erased. The less the brain had to process, the faster the reaction time; muscle memory came in when the fight began.

*Tap,* the sword materialized, *cling,* it unsheathed. The aura around him doubled in intensity, it made the beast step back a little, a sign of weakness. Confused as to why it retreated; the monster roared, it echoed throughout the tunnel and into the smelter room. None knew by, but monsters of this level always had an edge – they felt smarter than the average. It looked as if they understood things that others could not.

Wanting the keep his cards by heart, Staxius took a standard stance. The sword erected in front, he waited and so did the foe. *Woosh,* they rushed, *clang,* the first contact made, pushed back Staxius. The paws had more than enough power to break a bolder without effort. If it wasn’t for the vampiric blood, that strike would have broken bones. From the get-go, he was placed into a defensive situation. Assessing the surroundings, calculating the strength and ability, the usual combat style.

Not this time, it was different. The snake remained at bay, the lion took charge and fought. It didn’t do any excessive movements, just a strong and fast strike from left and right. The fire it breathed earlier was out of the picture – it held back. Not wanting to be the first to make a move, the pattern of strikes grew mundane. Block, parry and strike, both foes did the same or at least tried too. The beast had overwhelming physical strength, Staxius lost out on that front. Superhuman strength could only get one so far, monsters were born twice as strong as a human. When it came to vampires, they were an exception – for a pureblood vampire that was, Staxius only recently begun to change.

It didn’t show, but the strain put on by the All-seeing eye also took a toll. From the get-go, he stepped into a losing fight. *Clang,* bored, the beast threw a swing that forced the swordsman to leap and retreat. It had been five minutes, Staxius’s breathing remained calm and compose; the beast’s eyes felt cold and daunting.

“Heh,” Tharis unholstered and *bang,* the snake jumped into life and caught the projectile. Roars and hisses echoed around; the monster’s attention fully focused on one foe.

.....

‘Well then, if it wants to keep underestimating me, then,’ both eyes closed, the stance changed, ‘-it’s fine by me.’ All in the sight was the monster and the edges of the small room with obstacles here and there. The cursed-sword sobbed, the countless apparitions wandered the room, the temperature dropped. Heads flew around and latched onto any moving thing, it did damage. They hungered for the soul of the living and took bits out of a living thing’s mana.

This new development forced the lion to use magic; it breathed fire. The souls tried to latch but were turned to dust – not permanently. The apparitions hit by said attack returned to the sword as it was their perpetual hell and imprisonment. *HISS,* the snake’s aura changed; no longer could it hold back. The threshold of pain and damage sustained had been far exceeded – it was now out for blood.

Feeling the change, he dashed forward. The movement turned invisible; the fighter simply vanished. Despite this, the snake kept tracked, a hawk eyeing down its prey – it possessed the skill: Thermal Vision.

*Clang,* the fight resumed, a tough opponent. Physically powerful and now used magic. Mana cancellation was channeled through the weapon, many fireballs and fire-breaths were rendered useless. A few minutes into the exchange, an opening presented itself, a clear strike at the underbelly. He took the gamble and dashed under, *-hiss.*

Staxius came out the other side, the right side of the body began to melt. That opening had been a trap, a lure to a false sense of security; Acid breath. With the back exposed, he faced the wall, skin melted off – bones were exposed. The lovely uniform’s magic barrier was breached. *Grr,* behind, without losing a second, it pounced; another opening.

From teeth to claws, the monster jumped, their heads reached out to devour the opponent. “Check-mate,” he turned around, *Void-Flame Aspect,* Tharis stared down the lion – the latter could not move for it was in midair. *Click,* the trigger pulled – rather than a bullet, a beam the size of a tree trunk fired – an explosion rattled the whole mine.

The main body vaporized, *-hiss,* the snake wasn’t dead for it separated half-way through the jump. “Not today,” an inch close to biting the head off, *-Slash,* a clean strike that cut said monster in half down the middle. Blood from the momentum hit its target. Staxius might have stopped the snake but the blood continued its path. Drenched in the guts of his foe, “damn it,” he sighed.

“Aye, are ya okay?” countless footstep scurried into the mine, Skokdrag came to aid. One after the other, they formed a line and watched, Staxius’s melted right-side regenerated. The eyes opened, the crimson-colored pupil burnt vividly.

“I’m alright,” he turned around, the exposed injuries nearly made some dwarves puke.

“Ya ain’t alright,” he tried to reach out and help.

“I said I’m fine,” the king held out his right hand, one that had been reduced to bones. It regenerated, a black-aura manifested and covered the injuries. With a sharp wave, the injuries were a thing of the past.

“What the hell is he?” the courageous miners who rushed were in awe.

“Skokdrag,” the tone serious, the leader could not but stand straight.

“Yes, your majesty,” the body uptight and stance formal.

“Thy favor hast been fulfilled.” Nothing more needed to be said, the intent was heard loud and clear.

“I’ll gather up my men and wait for your orders,” with a bow, the dwarves scurried outside. *Tsst,* the sound of burning came from the pockets, Staxius Haggard: Slayer of Chimera, a title was added onto the guild-card. ‘Interesting, maybe there’s a prize for defeating this monster,’ he chuckled and walked back up the stairs.

“Skokdrag,” he called out, the man in question spoke urgently with the workers,”-meet me in two hours at the castle gates, we’ll depart then,” the order given, the man walked through the gateway and headed back into the portal room.

“I’m sorry for this, but you may want to clean up the bloodstains,” nonchalant, he stepped through and headed back to the castle. “Guards,” she called out, maids and butlers rushed. For security reasons, the one in charge of the portals was ordered to never tell her real name out loud. For that simple reason, Overseer title was bestowed upon the one behind the desk.

‘Damn I reek of iron,’ he teleported inside the royal chambers.

“STAXIUS,” a feminine voice yelled from the balcony.

“Over here,” he replied, the room dimly lit for the night had taken reins. Footsteps ran from outside, “-I missed you,” she jumped; an unusual change of persona.

“Me too,” he stepped out of the way and caught her hands, *Click,* the light turned on. “Sorry about this, my current attire is a bit unsightly; in no way are you to lay thy hands on these dirtied vestments,” the king stood; with blood freshly dripping off the forehead.

“Tis no matter,” without care, she escaped his grasp and jumped in for an embrace. “-we shall need to take a bath instead,” the voice coy, her face hot, the breathing out of control. The queen stood with her head pressed against the king’s chest.

“I know not what brought about this change,” the face leaned close, “-but I like it,” a quick peck on her cheeks.

“Me neither,” she replied, her face looked adorable. “Either way, getting blood off oneself is a pain, let’s head for the bath.” A quick shower to rinse off the blood later, the couple soaked comfortably. The water warm from fire-magic, the surrounding; a combination of forestry and the starry night sky, nothing could compare.

“I never knew about this place,” Staxius spoke, both naked and sat back to back.

“You never asked,” the reply gentle, “-the castle has more thing than one can imagine. For a King who remains out of the country more often than not, they’re so much I can do,” her tone felt sad, she dearly missed him.

“I do apologize,” he said sincerely, “-but I’ve taken on a task that must be completed. For the sake of Arda and its citizen, most importantly; a task to lessen the load of ruling a kingdom.”

“I said that there wasn’t a need to worry,” the conversation continued peacefully.

“Still, thou art mine own wife and tis a right every husband should have. The right to worry and care for the one whomst he loves,” a phrase which felt poetic and expressed how the man felt.

“You’ll never change, will you?” she smiled and leaned closer.

“Thanks for opening my eyes and changing my life for the better, Xula,” more than love, he felt grateful – she gave a purpose to live, and a purpose to strive for greatness.

“And thank you for being the one I can turn to if ever things get wary.”

So far yet so close, both continued to soak in the moon’s glimmer. The conversation ranged from romantic to political – a rundown of what had happened to one another was given. Staxius came to know about the existence of the elite guard; it piqued his interest but quickly went off into the void of unnecessary information.

Dressed in spare uniform; one identical to the one previously used – Staxius got ready to depart. Xula remained close, she watched as he got dressed and prepared. From taking care of the gun to cleaning the sword, she watched as the preparation ended. *Tap,* the sword vanished, the hair tied in a ponytail and the gun holstered inside the vest.

“You sure take care of the weapons and clothes more than your own body,” she added in jest.

“They are the things that make me whole,” the necklaces were worn. The glove was kept in the top pocket.

“Oh my, that’s embarrassing – the glove has been in your care?” her cheeks blushed. Part of her mind thought that he might have lost it and part thought that he kept it. Seeing it being taken care of so dearly made her heart skip a beat. Behind that cold merciless persona laid a gentle and caring man, one that only she and Eira knew about.

Not wanting to touch on the subject, Staxius reached for the table. A small purple box with a golden leaf crest.

“Xula,” he called, she stood near the entrance, “-could you come here?” he asked to which she stepped in.

“Here,” the box opened, it held a ring – one with an emerald, rare and flawless green with an exquisite tone; it matched her eyes perfectly. Held in place by golden rims, the jewelry looked expensive.

She held out her left hand, “-looks absolutely stunning on you,” he complimented – it rested on the fourth finger.

“I’ve seen emeralds in my time, but this one sure is unique... I love it,” their lips locked.