“By the state of your armor, I guess you fared little
better than Quith?” Viran remarked in exasperation as Supreme Commander Gaath
limped into the room.
“Quith’s monster is more powerful than we imagined, and it
has managed to unite all of the peoples of this cursed plane against us. What’s
worse is that the blaze king destroyed my shield guardian, and without its
protection, I was forced to use my conch of teleportation and leave my army to
hold off our enemies,” Gaath grumbled in frustration.
“What about Lykus?” the High Emperor questioned.
“He… did not survive the campaign,” the general tersely
responded.
“I see,” the monarch acknowledged, his tone betraying
nothing. “I will not forget this failure, however for the time being there is
nothing to worry about. I shall handle this creature easily enough. Recall all
of our armies to the capital and prepare the defenses with the captain of the
guard. We shall end this war with one decisive and crushing victory,” he vowed,
“and prove to the world that nobody can stand against High Emperor Viran and
the Great Builder Empire!”
“It shall be done, my lord,” Gaath acquiesced with a bow
before leaving the room.
Once his subordinate was out of the room, Viran took out
his rune-engraved flask and removed its stopper. Thick black smoke began to
pour forth from the flask’s opening. Over the course of a few seconds, the
smoke coalesced into a humanoid shape. When the figure was fully formed, the
flow of smoke stopped and the stopper snapped back into place.
The
red-skinned efreeti towered over the High Emperor. She wore an outfit of fine,
black silks and assorted brass armor accoutrements, and was adorned with
several pieces of exquisite gold jewelry. On her back was a long and elegant
scimitar with a gem-encrusted gold hilt. “What do you need from me this time
Viran?” Shevarra boredly enquired.
“That imbecile, Quith, created a monster to avenge High Emperor
Zoldiock’s death and the destruction of his empire on the Material Plane. However,
in his infinite wisdom, he did not take proper precautions and his monster
escaped. None of my useless subordinates have been able to stop this creature,
and it has managed to unite Gildonia, Charburg, and Ghastastan against me,” the
High Emperor detailed. “The combined army of the traitorous kingdoms is
currently marching toward the capital, and I need you to stop any intruders
from reaching the throne room. Do you understand?”
“As you wish,” Shevarra acquiesced. “But maybe next time,
try sending some of your useful subordinates to solve the problem,” the
efreeti remarked as she exited the throne room.
Ì
“We are almost to the capital. The final battle will soon
be at hand, and it will decide the fate of this entire land,” Witherius stated stoically.
“Indeed,” 303 nodded solemnly. “The time to crush that
scourge of the builders and take control of the Nether is finally almost at hand,
but some of us may not come out of the battle with our lives. Viran and Gaath
are not to be underestimated, you know.”
“You… are probably right about that one,” Pyran agreed
with uncharacteristic sadness in his voice. “But once this is over,” he said,
quickly changing the subject, “just think of what it will mean for our
kingdoms. Our cursed enemies will be gone, we will have strong alliances with
each other, and the spoils of battle will make us rich!”
“I can almost see the mountains of gold now,” Zavlok mused,
his eyes glittering.
“It will be glorious!” King Irritus exulted. “With the
builders gone, we can usher in a new age of prosperity and cooperation, and the
greatest threat to our rule will be vanquished.”
“There is nothing I am looking forward to more than the
deaths of Viran and Gaath,” the blaze king agreed. “But I admit I will enjoy
finally being able to rule and forge in peace.”
“We will certainly enjoy ruling over a peaceful Nether
once this is all over,” Witherius added.
Ì
Witherius’
great army had finally arrived at its destination, and before him stood the
capital’s towering nether brick walls. The wither had little time for
contemplation before numerous archers appeared from behind the crenellations
and began raining a hail of arrows down on his soldiers’ heads.
“Return
fire!” Witherius yelled.
At
once, a storm of fireballs, both large and small, issued from the blazes and
ghasts. They were accompanied by volleys of arrows from piglin crossbows and
wither skeleton longbows. The wall’s archers were soon decimated, and Witherius
and his army switched their focus to the city’s massive iron gate, which they
bombarded with even more fireballs and a barrage of flaming skulls. The gate
was blasted apart in short order and its remains toppled to the ground,
allowing the invading army to pour in. Waiting inside the city was, by far, the
largest builder army that Witherius’ forces had encountered. At its head stood
two builders.
As
expected, one of the leaders was Supreme Commander Gaath (having been healed of
his injuries from his duel with Witherius), but the wither and his allies had not
anticipated Viran’s absence from the battlefield. In place of the king, stood a
well-built and heavily armored warrior wielding a spear and shield.
Pyran
darted through the air, his flames burning white as he made a furious beeline
for Gaath.
“Halt! You shall go no further!” yelled the spear-wielding
captain of the guard as he leapt into the blaze king’s path.
Pyran’s only response to the soldier’s command was a
torrent of flames. The captain charged forward, blocking the blast with his
shield and striking out with his spear. The blaze nimbly darted to one side and
retaliated with a mace strike, which slammed into his foe’s shield and knocked
him momentarily off balance. Pyran swung his shield low, sweeping the builder’s
legs out from under him.
The
guard captain rolled to one side, narrowly avoiding having his head crushed by
Pyran’s morning star. He leapt to his feet and stabbed at his assailant’s head,
but the blaze king dodged the attack and the spearhead glanced off of his
netherite helm. Pyran formed another one of his rods into a sword and advanced
on his foe, attacking rapidly with both weapons while stymieing counterattacks
with his shield. The captain was slowly losing ground, barely managing to dodge
and block the torrent of attacks. When he tripped over the leg of a fallen
piglin and lost his balance for a moment, Pyran took the opportunity to slam his
mace into his foe’s shoulder, putting a nasty dent in the builder’s armor.
“Out of my way! The general is mine!” Zavlok shouted to
his troops as he sprinted towards the Supreme Commander.
“Stand back! I will deal with him personally,” Gaath
commanded his men.
The two leaders neared each other, each standing at the
opposite side of a gap in the fighting where they had ordered their men back.
“End of the line, Gaath!” Zavlok yelled as he flourished
his axe menacingly.
“You
were the first of the so-called ‘kings’ to side with that rebellious monster,
and I shall ensure that you are the first to pay the price as well,” the
Supreme Commander vowed in a low and deadly tone as he drew his greatsword from
the scabbard on his back.
The
two champions charged at each other, the piglin snorting with rage, and the
builder’s blade wreathed in flame as he spoke its command word. The Supreme
Commander suddenly stopped in his tracks and raised his free hand into the air as
he uttered a brief incantation. The ground in front of the piglin king cracked
apart, and from below the surface spewed a geyser of churned netherrack. Zavlok
stumbled backwards as he was pelted with small chunks of rock, and when, after
a few seconds, the geyser had stopped, he found his path obstructed by a field
of debris.
As the infuriated pig-man began clambering his away over
the rubble, his foe reached out one hand and launched a streak of light towards
him. Zavlok barely had time to leap to one side and avoid the projectile. Before
the piglin king could continue on, a searing pain shot through his back as he
was slashed by a floating spectral weapon. The barbarian charged forwards,
leaping over the last of the debris field and outpacing the spectral
greatsword. Gaath was taken aback by his foe’s rapid approach and could not
react in time to avoid a brutal headbutt to the chest. The Supreme Commander was
mostly unharmed, but the blow had startled him enough that his hold on the
spell dissipated and his floating weapon vanished.
“That coward of a ruler must be hiding inside his castle.
What a loser!” Left sneered.
“It looks like Pyran and Zavlok are dealing with the enemy
leaders out here,” Irritus observed. “Witherius, how about the two of us head
into the palace and deal with that fool while his army is distracted out here.”
The wither’s three heads responded in turn:
“Excellent
idea.”
“He will certainly be no match for the two of us.”
“Let’s get ‘em!”
And with that, the two monarchs rapidly flew across the
battlefield and made their way towards the castle of the High Emperor.
The guard captain narrowly ducked under a shield bash and
jabbed his spear at the blaze king. Pyran caught the spear’s shaft with a hand
formed out of metal and wrenched the weapon from the builder’s grasp, tossing
it into the ranks of Viran’s army. The soldier shouted a wordless battle cry
and slammed his shield into the visor of Pyran’s helmet. The blaze drifted
backwards in surprise and pain, momentarily stunned by the blow to the head. The
captain drew a shortsword from the sheath on his belt and lunged forward, striking
in rapid succession as he began a counterattack.
Pyran recovered just in time to block the first of his
foe’s strikes and began to hover backwards as he fended off slice after slice
with his dual weapons and shield. The blaze blocked a stab with his shield and pushed
forward, shoving the builder captain back and knocking him off balance. Pyran
followed up on the advantage by slamming the ground and creating a shockwave accompanied
by a blast of scorching flames. The unprepared guard captain was flung
backwards, landing hard on his back several feet away, his weapon and shield coming
to rest a short distance to either side.
The piglin king snorted with fury as he swung his massive
acid-coated axe at the Supreme Commander. Gaath swung his greatsword at the
same moment, the two leaders’ weapons colliding with a loud clang. The combatants’
blades crossed again and again, neither able to gain the upper hand, when suddenly,
Zavlok raised his axe for a downward strike before quickly switching to a
horizontal slice. The general could not move his sword quickly enough to block
the attack, but by muttering a series of arcane words, he halted the oncoming blow
with a magical barrier. He then retaliated with a slice from his own weapon,
but the barbarian leapt backward, nimbly avoiding the attack.
Gaath lunged forward, swinging his blade in a terrific
arc of fire and radiant light. Zavlok blocked the blow with his axe, but the
force caused him to lose his footing and stumble back a few steps. The builder
general advanced on his off-balance foe and sliced him across the chest. The
piglin king was left with a long gash across his netherite chest plate and a long,
nasty cut surrounded by burn marks. The injured barbarian managed to sidestep
Gaath’s next attack and charged forward, ramming his shoulder into the Supreme
Commander’s upper torso, momentarily stunning him.
As the battle raged on, it became apparent that both
sides were taking heavy casualties. The piglins and wither skeletons fought
tooth and nail with the builder knights as the builder archers rained volleys
of arrows down on their heads. In turn, the High Emperor’s forces suffered
greatly as they were struck by an unending hail of fireballs from the blazes
and ghasts. All the while, 303 practiced his art to revive great swaths of dead
piglins and builders to rejoin the fray as battalions of the living dead.
Pyran launched a trio of fireballs at his downed foe, but
the guard captain scrambled to his feet just in time to dodge to one side. The
warrior swiftly retrieved his shortsword from the ground and performed a flurry
of quick strikes. The blaze king hastened backwards, darting out of the way of
most of the slashes and blocking the rest with his shield. The blaze soon found
his opening and retaliated with both his mace and his sword in rapid
succession. The soldier proved himself to be quite nimble, however, and dodged
the first strike while deflecting the second to one side with his blade.
The captain leapt forth, stabbing at the blaze king’s
head with his shortsword. With his netherite hand, Pyran caught the blade mere
inches from his face and held it at bay. As the guard captain struggled to free
his weapon, the blaze melted down his dual weapons and merged them into a maul.
The soldier realized too late what happening, and was unable to avoid the
massive hammer swinging into his stomach. The warrior dropped his weapon and
stumbled back, crippled by the pain of multiple broken ribs.
Before the man could react, Pyran blasted him with a
torrent of white-hot flames. The captain of the guard fell in a burning heap to
the ground. The blaze king shouted in triumph as he brought his maul down on
his fallen foe’s head, shattering the enemy commander’s skull and leaving no
doubt as to his death.
The Supreme Commander raised his greatsword to defend
himself, but was not ready for Zavlok’s low-sweeping axe. The weapon carved
through the general’s leg armor and gouged a deep wound in his thigh, which was
made even worse by the acid that magically coated the axe’s head. Gaath
screamed in pain as he swung his greatsword in retaliation, but his leg injury
kept him off balance and his strike was poorly aimed. After easily dodging his
foe’s attack, Zavlok swung his axe across the Supreme Commander’s chest,
sundering his armor and grievously wounding him. The builder general took a
feeble step back, dropping his weapon as he collapsed to one knee.
“Your campaign of evil ends now!” Zavlok triumphantly
yelled as he swung his axe down at his crippled opponent.
As the barbarian king shouted in victory, Gaath reached
up and placed a hand upon his wounded chest, muttering a fleeting prayer to
Magnon, the god of conquest and battle. Healing energy coursed rapidly through
the Supreme Commander’s body, significantly diminishing his injuries. A moment later,
just as the fatal blow was about to land, Gaath shouted a singular word:
“Drop!”. The command rang out, charged with magical power. The piglin king
suddenly found his body failing to obey his mind as his arms stopped mid-swing
and his fingers let go of his axe.
As the weapon fell, the Supreme Commander’s hand shot up
to snatch it from the air. Gaath suddenly rose to his feet as the barbarian
regained control of himself. King Zavlok began to react, but he was too late. The
general hefted the axe into the air and swung it in a vertical arc, the blade
planting itself firmly in the piglin king’s chest.
“It is your treachery that is at an end, you oafish swine,”
Gaath spat. And perhaps this victory will be enough for the High Emperor to
forgive my recent failures, he mused.
“Your tyranny… will not… live to see… tomorrow,” Zavlok hatefully
spluttered as he slumped to the ground, dead.
Pyran
watched in horror as the king of the piglins was felled by the enemy’s general.
The blaze king let out an incoherent scream of rage as he grew so angry that
his flames turned blue from the intense heat. The blaze hurtled through the air
towards his foe. The Supreme Commander retrieved his fallen greatsword with one
hand and cast a mote of radiant energy at his approaching assailant with the
other. Pyran caught the bolt upon his shield and continued his advance before
stopping a few yards from his foe.
The
infuriated monarch unleashed a continuous blast of blue flames as Gaath
conjured an arcane barrier to defend himself. The two remained in place for
several seconds as the builder general attempted to hold out against the unending
stream of fire. The blaze king exhaled heavily as he ceased his fiery assault,
but a moment later screamed with rage once more and darted through the air,
swinging his maul in a tremendous arc. The weapon smashed through the transparent
barricade, and with the last of his magical energy spent, Gaath was forced to
block the blow with his greatsword. The worn-out commander panted heavily as he
barely managed to deflect Pyran’s frenzied assault.
The
blaze king ended his flurry with one final, great, overhead swipe of his
massive hammer. The builder general was able to block the strike, but its force
knocked his sword so far downward that its blade collided with the ground. Before
the exhausted Gaath could lift his weapon once more, Pyran struck him in the
midsection with his maul. The Supreme Commander dropped his weapon for the
second time and fell back to his knees, lacking the energy to continue fighting
and suffering from grave wounds.
“I
guess it was not Viran’s wrath that I should have feared,” Gaath tiredly
remarked, chuckling bitterly in between bouts of labored breathing.
“Die,
you insolent wretch!” Pyran raged as he blasted the Supreme Commander prone with
a wave of fire. The blaze king hovered in place, engulfing the general’s body
in a torrent of flames until he was reduced to a suit of armor and a pile of
blackened bones.
Ì
A
large section of the castle’s wall quickly gave way before Irritus’ fireballs
and Witherius’ flaming skulls, collapsing into a pile of charred bricks. The
duo flew through the gap and began searching the halls for the throne room. The
pair of monarchs passed through corridor after corridor, making short work of a
few guard patrols along the way. Suddenly, a wall of fire appeared from thin
air, stretching from floor to ceiling and wall to wall, blocking the invaders’
advance.
An
efreeti abruptly appeared in front of the duo as she dropped her invisibility.
“I cannot let you pass,” Shevarra warned as she drew her ornate scimitar, her
tone betraying both frustration and resignation.
“I
can deal with the genie alone,” the ghast king whispered to his companion. “Find
Viran.”
Witherius nodded his heads in unison as he
charged through the flames, remaining unharmed due to his immunity to fire. One
head glanced behind as he rounded a corner, observing the figure of Irritus
summoning an orb of swirly air as the efreeti lunged at him with her scimitar.
The wither traversed a few more corridors before finally reaching a pair of elaborate
double doors. A couple of fiery skulls later, the doors were knocked from their
hinges and flung to the throne room floor.
“I
see that you have overcome my defenses. Impressive, but not unexpected,” the
High Emperor remarked with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Now tell me, why
exactly are you doing this? Do you seek riches? Fame? … Or perhaps power?” Viran
cooly questioned.
“This
conquest is not one of self-interest. We do this to free the Nether from the
scourge that is your people. You do nothing but seek power at the expense of
those around you, and you tried to use us for your corrupt ends, but we will
have none of it. Your hour has come, High Emperor, and you will not leave here
with your life!” Center proclaimed.
“The
Nether will be a far better place without you, so we are taking you out of the
picture,” Right added.
“I
am going to enjoy this!” Left screeched in delight.
“I
see. In my experience, however, it matters not who is right in a war, but who
is left,” Viran responded in a low and deadly tone. “Thusly, it is you who will
be destroyed.” He slowly stood from his throne; unsheathed his enchanted sword,
the blade of which was surrounded by a magical, blue glow; and pulled his
netherite shield from the wall.
Witherius
launched a trio of flaming skulls at the builder king. Viran leapt high into
the air—far higher than should be possible for an ordinary man—and passed above
the projectiles. The levitating king flew forward at impressive speed, rapidly
approaching the wither. The wither’s sword hurtled through the air towards the
monarch, but with a telekinetically bolstered flick of his own sword, Viran
casually sent the weapon careening across the room, embedding it into a wall.
Right
spat out a quick incantation and launched a wave of soul fire at the
approaching enemy. Utilizing his immense mental power, the king deflected most
of the blast away from himself, easily blocking what was left with his shield. He
swooped forward, slashing at the wither. Witherius darted to one side, dodging
the attack, and telekinetically ripped the opulent chandelier from the ceiling,
hurling it at Viran. The chandelier stopped in midair as it was caught in the
builder’s telekinetic grip. An instant later it was hurtling towards the
wither. Witherius charged forward, barreling headlong through the flying fixture,
shattering it to pieces, and continuing onward as he prepared to slam into the
enemy monarch.
Viran
abruptly halted his psychically powered flight and dropped to the floor, slowing
his fall with telekinesis. The wither blew past his intended target and slammed
into one of the nether brick pillars that stretched from the room’s floor to
its ceiling. The impact left a spiderweb of large cracks in the pillar and sent
numerous small fragments of brick falling to the ground. Witherius quickly
recovered from the impact and unleashed a volley of burning skulls at his foe.
Viran grinned smugly as he levitated the brick shards from the floor and shot
them at the wither. Witherius’ projectiles were struck from the air, and he was
pelted with a hail of debris.
The
wither took shelter behind the damaged pillar, and unleashed the greatest
technique taught to him by 303: he conjured forth the ghost of Xamodas’ trapped
soul. A spectral projection of the Grand Seeker appeared before the High
Emperor, sword drawn.
“Xamodas?
You should have stayed dead after your failure,” Viran declared in a menacing
tone.
The
spectral inquisitor lunged forward, performing a rapid flurry of sword strikes.
The builder king deftly blocked and parried each attack with his sword and
shield before retaliating with a psychically bolstered strike. The ghost conjured
a barrier of magical force and deflected the attack, then pulled the dagger
from his boot and sliced at Viran’s leg. The High Emperor caught Xamodas’ blade
with his mind and wrenched it from his hand, tossing it away. Then he shield-bashed
the off-balance Grand Seeker in the face.
Xamodas
recovered in time to block Viran’s next swing, but the High Emperor swung again
and again, attacking with frightening speed and psychically enhanced power. The
specter was barely able to block the next few, and the blade was soon struck
from his grasp. Viran sliced his foe across the chest, knocking him to the
floor. “Stay down,” the king commanded as he telekinetically ripped the badly
damaged pillar from the floor and dropped it on top of the Grand Seeker’s
ghost, destroying its incorporeal form and sending its essence back into
Witherius’ crown.
Viran
leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the wither’s attempt to surprise him with
fangs from the ground. But before the king could react, Witherius struck him in
the back with his sword, which he had retrieved from the wall while the monarch
was distracted. However, Viran’s armor and enchanted cape protected him from
most of the slash’s damage.
“Die
already!” one of the wither’s heads yelled as he fired a soul-energy-infused
skull at the High Emperor.
The
king conjured a barrier of psychic power which deflected most of the resulting
explosion, his shield guarding him against the rest. He leapt into the air once
more, landing a psychically powered slash across Witherius’ ribs, the force of
the blow knocking the wither back several feet. The High Emperor flew forward,
determined to finish off his adversary, but his next swing was blocked by a
floating sword. For a few moments, Viran dueled with the wither’s floating
weapon, each opponent rapidly slashing and parrying, but the king soon flung
the sword away, once more, with a powerful strike.
Before
his opponent could attack again, Witherius charged forward. Viran attempted to
stop the wither’s charge with his mind, but realized too late that he had
expended nearly all of his psychic energy. What remained of his power was not
enough to stop the incoming blow. Witherius slammed hard into the High Emperor,
knocking the wind out of him, and bashing him into the throne room’s back wall.
A sizable portion of the wall gave way to the mighty impact, and the ruler of
the builders was sent tumbling through the gaping hole.
Viran
landed atop the massive lake of lava behind the castle, but due to the
enchantments on his armor, he was not burned. He quickly scrambled to his feet
and now stood atop the magma. His shield, flung from his grasp in the impact, had
sunk below the surface, and his normally calm, confident, and rather bored
expression had changed to one of concern and anger. “Cease this insolent assault at once! You
cannot defeat the king of the greatest empire the Nether has ever seen!” Viran roared,
his voice betraying his fear.
“You
know as well as I that this empire is but a shadow of the one that once existed
on the material plane, and even High Emperor Zoldiock’s great might could not
save him,” the wither coldly replied as he flew down through the gap in the
wall.
“Zoldiock
may have been slain, but do you think yourself capable of the same feat? You
are no Lord Tallstag,” the High Emperor retorted, some of his confidence
returning.
“We
shall see.”
The
wither launched a series of burning deaths-heads at the enemy king. Viran
quickly switched his sword to his left hand and spoke its command word, the
blue glow vanishing from the blade and forming a translucent shield that
projected from the weapon’s pommel as the cutting power enhancement was traded
for defense. The monarch dodged the first couple of skulls, and the next pair
were blocked by his sword’s magical protection. He pulled a hand crossbow from
his belt and held it in his right hand, firing it at Witherius.
The
wither easily darted to one side, avoiding the bolt, but was surprised to find
that his foe’s weapon magically reloaded itself with conjured bolts, allowing
the High Emperor to fire the weapon in rapid succession. Witherius roared in
anger as pair of bolts embedded themselves in his ribs. Right snarled out an
incantation, launching a blast of soul fire at the builder king and expending
the last of the energy Xamodas’ soul could provide for the time being. Viran’s
latest projectile was incinerated midair, and he leapt to one side, avoiding
the brunt of the blast but still receiving minor injuries to his side.
The
wither’s sword flashed through the air, slicing through a section of the king’s
leg armor, and leaving a painful wound. Viran fended off the flying sword with
his own blade as he took aim and fired with his crossbow. The shot struck
Witherius in the sternum. A blast of explosive force issued from the wither,
and when the smoke cleared, his form was shrouded in a shimmering barrier of
soul energy conjured from the reserves within his body. The wither slowly
drifted down until he was hovering just a few inches over the lava. In the
meantime, the High Emperor peppered him with crossbow bolts, which bounced off
of the wither’s magical barrier, leaving only small scratches.
Ì
Irritus
darted out of the way of Shevarra’s scimitar strike and knocked the weapon from
her hand with a sweep of his tentacle. Before the efreeti could react, she was
struck by a bolt of lightning from the ghast’s orb of swirling wind. Giving the
genie no time to recover, the ghast lashed out with his tentacle and slammed
her against a wall. Shevarra attempted to get to her feet, but was struck by an
additional lightning bolt and evaporated into smoke, returning to the iron
flask.
Ì
“This
is payback!” Left yelled as he telekinetically swung his sword through the air,
slicing through the unprepared king’s wrist, severing his hand, and sending his
crossbow tumbling into the magma.
Viran
was transfixed for a moment as he stared down in shock at the bleeding stump where
his hand used to be. “I’ll kill you for this! I’ll kill you and everyone who
sided with you in this war! Even if I must personally impale each and every one
of you!” the High Emperor bellowed in seething hatred and rage as he charged
toward the wither, his speed hindered by a limp.
The
wither said nothing in response but launched a new volley of flaming, blackened
skulls. Viran blocked each projectile with his shield as he approached, murder
written on his face. The wither’s sword flew towards the monarch, but it was
diverted into the magma with a furious strike. Witherius darted forward,
slamming himself against his foe with great force. The builder king blocked the
impact with the spectral shield created by his sword, but was shoved back
several feet. The High Emperor yelled with wordless fury, then spoke his
weapon’s command word again, redirecting its magical power into the blade,
causing the shield to disappear. Viran took a few limping strides before
performing a lunging stab.
The
king suddenly stopped in midair, his body caught in Witherius’ telekinetic
grip. The wither’s three heads laughed in unison as Viran was brutally and
repeatedly smashed against the netherrack cliff face upon which the castle was
built. Witherius finally let go of the High Emperor, unceremoniously dropping
his battered and bloody form onto the surface of the lava. Viran lay atop the magma,
unharmed due to his enchanted armor. The maimed monarch tried to get to his
feet, but his injuries were too great. He managed only to partially raise
himself up on his remaining hand and his other arm’s elbow.
“You!
You have ruined everything that I spent my life building! My glorious plans reduced
to dust by a monster created to enact them, and all of it just to sate your
petty self-righteousness!” Viran snarled venomously, his eyes burning with
hate.
“Don’t
lose your head; this was all for the greater good. Your death will only serve
to improve the Nether,” Center cooly explained as he lifted Viran’s fallen
sword from the lava.
“As
you said, what matters is who’s left!” Left chortled as the blade levitated
higher into the air.
“We
were in the right as well!” Right added with a chuckle.
“Goodbye,
and perhaps you should lose your head after all,” Center sneered as the sword plunged
down and relieved the High Emperor of his head.
Witherius
used his telekinesis to pull the cape from the king’s corpse and placed it upon
his own shoulders. He stopped to perform a ritual, and after a lengthy
incantation, trapped Viran’s soul within the ruby set into Center’s crown. With
that out of the way, and his regeneration having healed his wounds, the wither
took to the skies, eager to see how the battle in the city had turned out. When
he arrived above the battlefield, Witherius found the last of Viran’s
leaderless and disorganized men being slaughtered by his still mostly intact
force, which had been bolstered by hundreds of undead.
“The
battle is won!” Center exulted, laughing with uncharacteristic glee.
Go to Epilogue ⏩
