War on the Horizon Collection

The Breach (Sep 599 A.B.F.)

The Expedition (June 610 A.B.F.)

The Premonition (Nov 611 A.B.F.)

The Duel (Dec 611 A.B.F.)

The Scouts (Dec 611 A.B.F.)

The Rift (Jan 612 A.B.F.)

Meanwhile, in space . . .

Hazardous Corporation

(WotH) The Rift

    Alex strolled cheerfully through Arborton’s outdoor market. Many of the townsfolk paused their conversations to exchange pleasant greetings with her as she passed by.

    Soooo, about that dryad on Old Man Herbert’s farm . . . a young girl’s curious voice popped into her head, not that it ever left her.

    After we get the groceries home, Alex casually responded in her thoughts, we’re gonna have to head over there and give her a talking to about property ownership.

    Doesn’t everybody know about property ownership?

    Here on Phoros they do, but dryads are from the Feywild and not everything works the same there. She probably sees everything as ultimately belonging to nature and doesn’t understand how a man can claim ownership over the land. I doubt she means any real harm, though, so we should be able to find a peaceful resolution.

    But what if we don’t? If she’s that convinced that Old Man Herbert can’t own the land, will we actually be able to change her mind?

    Optimistic as usual, Alice. However, that is certainly a possibility. If it comes down to it, we can always remove her by force . . . most likely the force of Steve’s shovel.

    Well anyway, when are we going to go on an adventure? And I mean a real adventure, one where we actually go out of town.

    I love adventuring almost as much as you do, but we don’t know when exactly our next one will be. We need to keep Arborton safe, after all. Don’t worry, though. Adventure will always come knocking sooner or later, and we have all the time in the world to wait for it.

    I guess you’re right.

    Alex reached the far end of the market and stepped up to the counter of Barb’s Corner Store. Manning the store was an elderly woman with blue eyes and neat grey hair.

    “Hi Barb!”

    “Alex! It’s so nice to see you,” Barb beamed. “Have you been doing well? Oh, I already have your order set aside.” She grabbed a basket of assorted groceries and placed it on the counter.

    “Yes. I just got back from helping Mr. Baker fix his fence. Those redcaps really did a number on it. Anyway, I need a couple extra things today. Here’s the list.” Alex retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper from her pocket.

    Barb glanced over the list and quickly retrieved the items from a nearby shelf. “Here you go,” she said, placing them on the counter.

    Alex fished a platinum piece out of her pocket and placed it on the counter. “This should cover everything.”

    “Does Alice want a chocolate bar?”

    Of course!

    “That would be a yes,” Alex chuckled. She took the chocolate bar and turned to leave. “Thanks again, Barb!”

Ì

    “I’m home!” Alex cheerfully flung the door open and strode inside, basket of groceries in hand.

    Steve quickly appeared through a doorway. He was tall and powerfully built, with blue eyes, short brown hair, and a goatee. He was clad in a simple, but well-made, blue shirt, dark blue pants of similar craft, and short black boots. His tone was unusually serious as he spoke. “Put the basket on the table and follow me.”

    This can’t be good.

    Alex hurriedly set the basket upon the dining table and followed Steve into the living room, where she stopped in front of a large, oval-shaped, standing mirror. Her reflection was that of a strong and slender woman with emerald eyes and ginger hair that was pulled into a ponytail draped over one shoulder. She wore a simple green tunic, brown cargo pants, and knee-high grey boots.

    “A man from one of the cities near Argopolis passed through while you were helping out Mr. Baker. He brought news from the big city . . . It wasn’t good.” Steve sighed deeply.

    “The king never did seem to have things under control, did he?” Alex mused.

    “It’s actually the king that the news revolves around. He’s dead.”

    I gotta hear this.

    “What? How?” Alex paced back and forth, attempting to wrap her head around how this was possible. “Surely we would have heard of an invasion, even all the way out here near the border. What did him in?”

    “That’s the thing, the invasion came from inside Argopolis. No settlements were destroyed in a prior invasion. Nobody saw it coming.”

    The reflection in the mirror changed to that of a teenage girl with curly and somewhat unruly raven hair. Her left eye had an indigo hue, and her right was a piercing yellow. “The invasion came from within? Was it a revolt? I knew the old man wasn’t super popular, but I didn’t realize that many people hated him.” Alice’s voice was inquisitive and somewhat ethereal as it projected from the mirror.

    “Apparently Imperium Cleptarum has had its headquarters underneath Argopolis for years and invaded the city from a series of underground safehouses. With most of the king’s army guarding the borders, the city guard simply wasn’t enough.” Steve furrowed his brow in frustration. “Argos was done in by a fellow named General Grave who works for Blex, a beholder who has now declared himself king.”

    “What a buffoon.”

    “Jeez, I knew the king wasn’t the best decision maker, but surely this should have been preventable. Any news of the other royals? Where they also killed?”

    “They escaped. The queen is, unsurprisingly, quite opposed to Blex claiming the throne, and she has the backing of most of the remaining army. However, rumor has it that Imperium Cleptarum has an army of warforged. The man I spoke to said he anticipates a civil war and is going to vacation in Geckinghamshire to wait things out.”

    “So, what you’re saying is that civil war is brewing, and our choices are the same genius royal family that brought us the Argo-Undead war and didn’t notice a crime syndicate lairing under their capital, or a beholder mob boss.” Alex sighed and ran her hand over her face.

    “That’s about the size of it.”

    “I don’t think we should support either of those clowns.”

    “I agree.” Steve stroked his chin. “I think it best that we fortify the town, mobilize the Greenguard in case of an invasion, and just sit tight right here.”

    “You’re right. There’s little point in trying to win a civil war when both sides are in the wrong.” Alex continued her pacing. “We’ll just have to weather this storm right here. One side may try to invade, but they’ll be faced with a rude awakening.”

    Steve opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off as the ringing of an alarm bell split the air.

    “Son of a biscuit,” Alex muttered as she reached into one of her pants pockets, pulling out a full-size trident made from an aquamarine-like material with gold filagree and an aura of cold around its prongs.

    Steve said nothing and, likewise, drew an item from his pocket, his weapon of choice being a solid adamantine shovel.

    “Gotta love the rift’s timing, don’t ya?” Alice shook her head and disappeared from the mirror.

    The two do-gooders hurried out the door and towards the town square. In the square’s center, a jagged, shimmering rift had opened a few feet off the ground and was in the process of spewing out a horde of demons. The Greenguard, Arborton’s militia that had been personally trained by Steve and Alex, had already moved to engage the initial wave. Without a word, Steve lunged into the fray, swinging his shovel in wide, powerful arcs which sent small demons flying in all directions.

    A seven-foot-tall, humanoid fiend with great, leathery wings darted into the air, conjuring a ball of fire within its clawed fist. The demon pulled back its arm to lob the projectile when Alex’s trident plunged into its chest with a terrific thunk and an explosion of frost, flinging the fiend across the square and against the side of a building. As the demon collapsed into a puddle of ichor, the trident soared back through the air, returning to its owner’s hand.

    A cascade of vines erupted from the cobbles, ensnaring many of the invaders and holding them in place.   “Better make this quick before they can make it out of the square.” Alex raised her free hand into the air, conjuring a storm of hailstones which rained down upon the immobilized fiends.

    Another towering fiend lunged at Steve, taking a mighty shovel blow to the jaw and sailing over a nearby rooftop. Just as the wave of interdimensional invaders seemed to be dwindling, the rift tore open wider, and two more monsters stepped out. One was a lanky, emaciated fiend that would have stood nearly eight feet in height if not for its hunch, and it had a head like a ram-skull. The other was a huge, burly balor with tremendous wings who wielded an enormous, electrified sword in one hand and a massive flaming whip in the other. It stood about twelve feet in height, and the very air around it rippled with heat distortion.

    Finally, a challenge!

    The ram-headed fiend chanted in an abyssal tongue and conjured forth a wave of roiling green hellfire. Steve turned to face the incoming flames and slammed one foot into the ground. The pavement morphed and shifted in the wake of the blow, reforming into a wall of stone. The hellfire crashed upon the rock, spouting flames around its edges and blackening its surface, but doing Steve no harm. He punched the wall hard, shattering it into a volley of rocky projectiles which streaked towards the fiend. The creature put its arms in front of its face, shielding itself from major harm, but was battered, nonetheless.

    Alex hurled her trident at the balor, a barrage of icicles accompanying its flight. The fiend swung its burning whip, striking the weapon aside and incinerating many icicles. Though a number of the icy projectiles struck home, they had little effect upon the beast. Vines erupted from the earth to ensnare the titan demon, but it took flight and soared high above their reach. It swooped down towards Alex, plunging its blade into the ground where she had stood moments before, having jumped high into the air.  The ranger pierced through the balor’s wing with her trident and ripped a large gash in it on her way down. The heat radiating from the beast made her sweat.

    The monster bellowed with rage and lashed out with its whip, wrapping the flaming cord around Alex’s ankle. The demon swung the weapon through the air, intent on slamming her against the pavement. She caught the cord between the prongs of her trident and yanked it off of her leg, performing a mid-air somersault and landing on her feet. Alex threw her weapon once again, this time finding her mark upon the balor’s intact wing, rendering her assailant flightless.

    Steve charged towards the ram-headed fiend, swinging his shovel up at its head. Abyssal chains erupted from the ground and wrapped themselves around the handle, stopping the blow from hitting. With a tremendous heave, the hero snapped the chains and freed his weapon. The monster chanted in its forbidden tongue and conjured a bolt of red lightning from the heavens, striking the shovel and sending Steve to the ground.

    The warrior grunted in pain as he rose to his feet, setting his jaw and glaring at the demon with cold determination. With a mighty stomp, he sent a wave of stone spikes radiating from the point of impact. The fiend disappeared in a puff of smoke and embers. Steve hefted a heavily laden oxcart over his head with both hands and hurled it at his foe as it reappeared several feet away. The demon was caught off guard and thrown from its cloven feet as the cart smashed to pieces upon its form.

    The balor roared and closed the distance with frightening speed, its electrified blade already in motion. Alex stopped the blow with the shaft of her trident, but the demon’s strength was prodigious, and with a great heave upon its weapon, it sent her sliding across the street and into a shop’s wall with enough force to leave cracks in the brickwork.

    Leave him to me. I’ll finish this.

    Everything is under control, you know. I’m fine.

    I know, but I wanna fight a balor!

    Alright. You can take it from here.

    Alex’s eyes changed to match the colors of Alice’s and she took a confidant step forward.

    “Is that all you’ve got?”

    The balor struck out with its whip but hit nothing as its target became momentarily translucent and the cord passed harmlessly through her. She levitated rapidly into the air, flying above the demon’s gargantuan slash.

    “Let’s see how you fare against Mr. Hat.” Alex’s shadow disconnected from her, standing upright and changing shape. The resulting figure was that of a tall man wearing a trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat. He and his clothes were made entirely of the stuff of shadows, with his only other feature being eyes like burning red coals.

    The ram-headed fiend teleported to its feet and conjured forth a torrent of hellfire. Steve leapt to one side without slowing his sprint. He struck the demon in the face with his shovel, cracking its skull-like head and sending it flying several feet. The fiend rose to its feet and summoned a ring of hovering flame orbs which shot forth in rapid succession.

    Steve struck most of the flames from the air with the head of his shovel, but the last of them smashed into his hand, causing him to drop his weapon. He did not slow down, however. Leaping through the air, he grabbed his foe by the face and dragged it down with him as he landed, slamming it headfirst into the ground and crushing its skull-like head in the process. Steve flicked the ichor off of his hand as the beast melted and turned to retrieve his trusty shovel.

    The shadow man reached out and grabbed the shadow of Alex’s trident. The burning whip came down, but the man had already sunk into a shadow and emerged from a dim corner behind the demon. The monster whirled around as it was stabbed in the back of its leg and lashed out at the dark form, who narrowly sidestepped the blow. Alex let out a piercing screech that caused the demon to roar and clutch at its ears in pain, then she plunged her trident into its back in a burst of cold.

    The heroine withdrew her trident and levitated higher, stabbing the tines into the top of the beast’s head with all her might and bringing the balor to its knees. As the monster fell, the shadow plunged his own trident deep into its chest. A wave of brutal heat shot outwards as flaming cracks formed in the balor’s body. Mr. Hat dove into a nearby patch of shade while Alex levitated upwards and flickered into incorporeality, both narrowly avoiding the violent conflagration of the beast’s death.

    “I love getting to do that!” Alex levitated back down to the ground and her eyes returned to their normal emerald hues. At the same time, Mr. Hat returned to being her ordinary shadow.

    One last demon stepped forth from the rift as it closed, wielding a jagged scimitar. As it moved forward, a blade emerged from its chest in a burst of radiant light. The fiend melted into ichor as its slayer stepped out from behind it. He wore a long-hooded cloak of indigo hue and a white porcelain mask with a pair of black dots that represented eyes.

    “Randal?” Steve and Alex spoke in near unison.

    “Indeed. I come bearing dire news. Is there a good place to have a serious conversation around here?” Randal glanced around at the scorched and battered square.

Ì

    “Are you aware that your house is haunted? Because that is definitely not your reflection.” Randal stared nervously at the mirror behind Alex as he sat on the couch.

    “That’s just Alice. She’s a haunt I met during one of my adventures. I allowed her to share my body so she could still experience the world, and she helps me defend the town.”

     “Ohh-kay, then . . .”

    “You said you have dire news?” Steve looked intently at Randal.

    “Yes. I have had a vision that the entities are going to band together and start a tremendous war in the near future. Not only that, I have ascertained that Herobrine is hiding in plain sight as a seemingly normal human, and I observed 303 talking to some sort of three-headed undead king in another dimension.” 

    “None of that can mean anything good. We must mobilize the Greenguard at once and draw up a battle plan.” Steve stroked his chin and furrowed his brow.

    “And we may need the support of an army if a war is truly coming.”

    You were right, Alex. Adventure did come knocking.

    “Where is Kate?” Steve asked. “We’ll likely need all four of us to deal with this.”

    “She blew me off, as usual. She doesn’t want to be bothered until things get out of hand.” A deep sigh could be heard from behind the expressionless facade.

    “Figures.” Alex shook her head.

    We still have four of us.

    “Now let’s make that plan.” Steve unfurled a map of the continent upon the table.

"The Wither" - Epilogue

            Witherius rested upon the throne that previously belonged to the High Emperor. Before him were assembled King Pyran, King Irritus, Entity 303, and an imposing wither skeleton clad in netherite armor.

            “Thank you all for coming. Now that everyone is present, it is time we discuss where to go from here,” Witherius opened. “For our first order of business, we must decide on the new government.”

            “As we have already agreed, you shall rule as emperor of this land,” Pyran affirmed. “But what shall I and the others be responsible for under the new regime?”

            “I propose that you and Irritus each continue to rule over your people and lands, reporting to me on particularly important matters and serving as my generals in times of war. Additionally, Gaath, here, shall be appointed as king of the wither skeletons, and we shall decide on a new piglin to replace Zavlok. 303, you shall serve as my right hand,” the wither detailed.

            “I believe that to be the ideal decision,” the entity responded.

            “I look forward to working with you going forward, and I believe our new government will usher in a new era of prosperity,” the ghast king haughtily agreed.

“It will be an honor,” Gaath the wither skeleton general replied.

            “I like it! With the builders gone and us in charge, the Nether shall truly be a better place,” the blaze king affirmed. “And I would suggest that, due to our expertise in smithing, my people provide the equipment for our armies.”

            “It shall be so,” Witherius proclaimed.

            “Also,” Pyran solemnly added, “I think Zavlok would have wanted you to have this.” He held the fallen piglin’s battleaxe out to Witherius with a hand formed from netherite.

            “Thank you. I will make good use of this in his honor,” the wither promised. “Before we adjourn and attend to our individual duties, we must send forces to eradicate the builders that remain,” Witherius directed. “I suggest that we send a sizable portion of each kingdom’s army to hunt them down. Any objections?” The emperor waited for several seconds, hearing no protest. “Then it is decided. Furthermore, I would like Gaath to lead this conquest. Can I rely on you for that?”

            “It shall be done, my liege,” the undead knight proclaimed with a deep bow.

            “Good. We are through with our agenda. You all may go.”

Ì

            “We need to talk,” Right told his brothers as they hovered alone in the throne room.

            The other heads responded in turn:

“I like talking.”

“By your tone, I assume there is a problem?”

            “Indeed, there is,” Right gravely responded. “I have come to the conclusion that 303 will almost certainly betray us someday. He too easily agreed to help us. When asked about his motives, he basically just agreed with everything we are doing, and he seems to have surprisingly little ambition for how ancient and powerful he is. Not to mention the overly charismatic way he talks.”

            “I have been thinking the same thing since shortly after we met him,” Center agreed.

            “I, for one, never trust anyone who sounds that much like a politician… except for you guys, of course,” Left concurred with a chuckle.

            “But what shall we do about it?” Center queried. “I think it unwise to simply try and convince the others that he is a problem.”

            “Why not destroy him!” Left exclaimed in response.

            “Have you even seen him fight?” Right sarcastically responded. “He is more powerful than Viran was, and likely by more than a slim margin. No, I believe our only option is to bide our time and prepare for his betrayal, without letting on that we know anything, of course,” he concluded.

            “I agree. We mustn’t make our move until he makes his,” the middle head declared.

            “Fine, we can wait,” the third head grudgingly muttered. “But when that traitor makes his move, I look forward to smashing his skull! … If he even has one.”

            “With that decided, there is something else I want to discuss,” Center began. “What shall we do with the flask?”

            “We must retain possession of it and keep it safe,” Right answered with certainty in his voice. “I think it will come in handy when we finally have to destroy the entity.”

            “Correct,” the leader of the three stated. “But I do not find it just to keep the efreeti trapped in the flask. She did not oppose us of her own accord and does not share in the builders’ folly.”

“I agree, Center. She should live mostly outside of the flask, and we should not often use it to force her hand. But we must keep it to ensure her loyalty when it is most needed.”

            “I respect her fighting skills; she shall be a useful ally.”

            “Then we are decided. Now we must make haste in our preparations. We must speak to Pyran about forging that suit of armor we discussed earlier.”

"The Wither" - Chapter 7: The End of the Line

            “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 ⏩

"The Wither" - Chapter 6: United We Stand

            Supreme Commander Gaath stared angrily down at the war room table in his command tent. How could those foolish traitors evade me with such ease? If this keeps up, Viran might… I cannot let this continue. I must crush that monster’s insolent army the next chance I get!, he resolved. As the general continued to ponder his situation, Lieutenant Lykus entered the tent.

            “So, lieutenant, you chose to retreat once again,” Gaath snapped, glaring up from his maps.

            “It was my only option, sir. My men and I would not have survived otherwise,” Lykus apologetically explained.

            “That is insignificant,” the general coldly retorted. “Your retreat ruined my pincer maneuver and cost us the battle.”

            “Surely it is better to live to fight another day,” the lieutenant countered incredulously.

            “No. You are expendable. Victory in this war is worth more than your life.”

            “But sir...” the subordinate protested before being cut off.

            “You have failed me for the last time,” Gaath balefully declared as he pulled the greatsword from his back.

            “No! You can’t do-” Lykus pleaded before his head was separated from his shoulders.

Ì

            Witherius and his allies entered the throne room of the ghast king. Before them hovered King Irritus. He was a larger-than-average ghast and donned a sizable netherite crown with a trio of rubies set into its front. The markings under his eyes and on his face were a golden yellow instead of the typical black.

            “I have been expecting you, Witherius,” the ghast monarch announced, his smooth, self-assured voice filling the room. “I have heard all about your campaign to destroy the ‘Great’ Builder Empire, and I would like to assist you in your endeavor. The builders have never been anything but a nuisance to me and my people, and I want them gone once and for all, not to mention the great wealth, prosperity, and security that victory will grant my kingdom. And besides, I have always enjoyed a spot of combat now and then!” he jovially remarked.

            “When your men contacted me,” Witherius responded, “I was actually on my way here to ask you to join my cause. Now that we have allied every kingdom, crushing the builders should be easily within our power. Now then, I believe it is time for us to discuss our plans for war.”

            “Indeed, it is. As I anticipated this alliance, my army is already prepared for battle. Now all that’s left is to decide what to do with it,” the ghast king explained.

            “Well, as I have discussed with my other allies in the past, the best approach seems to be marching straight to the capital, destroying any opposition along the way, and then crushing the builders in one decisive fight for the castle. And killing Viran, of course. This way, we avoid a drawn-out war and mitigate our casualties,” Witherius suggested.

            “I like it. A quick and crushing victory like this should send quite the message to any who may wish to challenge us in the future!” Irritus assented.

            “And with my necromancy,” 303 added, “we shall not have to worry about our numbers dwindling if we get in a few battles along the way.”

            “And I get to cave in some builder skulls!” Zavlok heartily agreed, smacking his greataxe handle into his free hand enthusiastically.

            “Those wretches will be no match for the combined might of our armies!” Pyran boomed as he flared bright white.

            “Then it is decided!” Witherius announced.

Ì

            For several days, Witherius and his army marched across a large section of the Nether, and now they were finally nearing the Great Builder Empire. Over the horizon, an army of builders slowly came into view. As the two forces neared each other, the towering, armored figure of Supreme Commander Gaath became apparent at the army’s head. Also in the crowd were an eight-foot-tall, armored, humanoid construct; a hulking warrior wielding a maul; and a robed man with a staff.

            “Here we go again,” Center muttered.

“Death to the builders!” Left yelled.

As the two armies violently collided, Witherius headed straight for Gaath.

“So, the self-proclaimed king comes to face me at last!” the Supreme Commander mockingly bellowed over the roar of battle as he spotted his approaching foe. “I look forward to crushing you!” And proving to Viran that I am far superior to the likes of Xamodas and Quith, he thought to himself.

            “We shall see,” Center cooly responded.

            “Let’s get ‘em!” Left screeched enthusiastically.

            “We must exercise caution with this one,” Right whispered to his brothers.

            The wither telekinetically slipped the Grand Seeker’s sword from his back, and with a muttered incantation, infused the blade with soul energy, coating it in an aura of blue fire. The sword hurtled through the air, speeding towards Gaath. Moments before the weapon would have collided with its target, a spectral greatsword appeared in the air and deflected it. The builder general let out a booming laugh as the two floating weapons began to clash, dueling as if held by a pair of invisible swordsmen.

            Gaath raised one hand into the air and closed it into a fist. As he did so, numerous small chunks of rock-hard ice formed in the air above the wither and rained down. Witherius’ middle head glanced upwards and launched a glowing, blue skull toward the incoming hail. The skull crashed into the balls of ice and exploded in a thunderous blast, sending tiny frozen shards in all directions, some of which bounced off of Witherius’ bones and Gaath’s armor. The Supreme Commander instinctually placed one arm in front of his face to stop the ice shards, and was caught off guard as he was struck by a blast of fire. Although he was burned by the flames, his injuries were much less significant than expected.

            From his position above the battle, King Pyran watched Witherius duel with Gaath, and when the Supreme Commander took suspiciously little damage from that blast of fire, Pyran spotted a towering construct stumble back a step, as if struck. A moment later, he perceived the amulet hanging from Gaath’s neck and put two and two together. “That construct must be absorbing some of the damage that despicable commander takes. I must put an end to it,” he resolved.

            The construct marched forth, plowing through the ranks of Witherius’ army using its massive fists. Suddenly, it was engulfed in a blast of white-hot fire and stumbled back, smoke issuing from its wood and metal frame. The blaze king swooped down to meet the mechanical warrior in battle, but was met by a thunderous blast that issued from its chest and pushed him back. Pyran roared as he launched a barrage of fireballs from his burning core. The shield guardian placed its arms in front of itself and blocked the projectiles, scorching its arms in the process.

Zavlok rushed forward, furiously chopping his way through the enemy’s lines, when he abruptly found his axe blocked by a maul. It was one of Gaath’s lieutenants. The warrior threw all of his weight behind his weapon and shoved Zavlok back with sudden force. The king leapt back, narrowly avoiding the sweeping arc of his foe’s hammer. The barbarian waited for just the right moment as his hulking opponent raised his maul into the air and swung it down in a devastating overhead strike. Before the blow could connect, Zavlok swung his battleaxe sideways and caught the hammer’s long handle with the hook of the axe’s blade.

            With all of his might, Zavlok yanked his weapon to one side, dragging his foe’s maul along with it. The lieutenant was pulled off balance, unable to defend himself from a headbutt to the stomach, followed by a savage metal-booted kick to the knee. As his foe screamed in pain, the piglin king jerked his weapon to the side once more, flinging the massive hammer from the enemy knight’s hand. The barbarian was not prepared, however, for his enemy suddenly grabbing him around the waist, hoisting him into the air, and tossing him several feet back, hard into the ground.

            Zavlok snorted angrily as he painfully impacted the ground and watched his enemy run for the dropped maul. The piglin leapt to his feet, raised his axe over his head, and hurled it at the enemy knight. The weapon flew end over end, spinning through the air. Just as the goliath of a builder reached down for his weapon, the axe buried itself in his back. For a moment, he stood in silence, unmoving. He feebly began clutching at the axe as he fell to his knees, then collapsed limp and motionless to the ground.

            “This will not do,” the ghast king thought to himself as he watched an enemy wizard decimating swaths of piglins and wither skeletons with explosive spells. Irritus inhaled sharply, drawing in air and converting it into heat energy. He spat a massive fireball from his maw, aiming it straight toward the enemy spellcaster. The wizard looked up just in time to block the attack with a magical barrier, but the invisible shield was shattered as the ghast king struck it with two more flaming projectiles in quick succession.

            The robed man stumbled backwards out of the cloud of smoke, frantically putting out a small fire on his clothing. He hurriedly recited a string of arcane words and pointed his staff at the ghast.

            “So, we’re conjuring lightning now, are we?” Irritus mocked, hearing his foe prepare the spell. “You’re not the only one who can do that, you know!” The king’s booming laugh thundered across the battlefield as he stretched out two of his tentacles. The end of each limb crackled with electricity as a large sphere of whirling air and energy formed between them. Just before the wizard’s lightning could strike the ghast, a similar bolt issued from the ball of air and the two beams of electricity collided in a firework-like burst of sparks. Before the mage could cast another spell, a second bolt shot from the sphere. The wizard screamed as he was struck by the bolt, and his charred form was hurled back, slamming into the side of a small hill.

            Gaath leapt to the side of an incoming flaming skull, and as a second one rocketed towards him, he drew the greatsword from his back and spoke a command word, engulfing the blade in flames. He swung the weapon through the air, slicing the incoming projectile in twain. The Supreme Commander took one hand off of his weapon and launched a beam of light from his palm, striking the wither in the ribcage and leaving a glowing burn mark.

Left let out an enraged yell as he levitated the corpse of a heavily-armored builder knight from the ground and hurled it at Gaath. The general impaled the flying corpse upon his sword, easily stopping the impact, but he was too distracted to notice the glowing, blue skull that was hurtling towards him. The Supreme Commander was flung to the ground by the blast and his netherite armor was dented where the projectile had hit, but since some of the damage was absorbed by his shield guardian, the general was not badly injured. Gaath scrambled to his feet, immediately shielding himself with the flat of his greatsword and stopping Witherius’ charge, but he was pushed back several feet in the process. Left grinned, realizing that his foe had lost his concentration when he was hit, causing his spectral blade to dissipate. With his telekinetic powers, the wither slashed his sword across the general’s armored leg.

            Pyran blocked the shield guardian’s fist with a shield formed from one of his floating metal rods. The blaze king then shoved his opponent back before slamming each of his rods into the ground, creating a fiery shockwave. The construct stood its ground, unhindered by the attack, and then lunged forward, striking out at Pyran with one hand. Suddenly, the guardian reacted as if it had taken a significant blow to its side, and its punch went off course, missing the blaze by a large margin. Pyran laughed maniacally as he opportunistically formed a mace from one of his rods and bashed the construct in the chest, leaving a sizable dent.

            As the shield guardian was about to retaliate, a gash appeared across the side of its leg, and it fell to one knee. Pyran swung his mace upwards, smashing the weapon into his opponent’s mechanical jaw. The automaton fell onto its back, multiple large cracks running through its steel mandible. Wanting to ensure his victory, the blaze king slammed his mace down onto the construct’s head three times in quick succession. The shield guardian’s head was badly dented and broken apart, and the construct no longer showed any signs of movement or life.

            Supreme Commander Gaath grunted in pain as he lunged forward and sliced his greatsword across Witherius’ ribs. The fire engulfing the weapon’s blade had no effect and the wither’s magically-hardened bones were too strong to be cut through with a single slice, but a sizable gash was left in them nonetheless. Witherius’ three heads simultaneously screamed with rage as the strike landed. Gritting his teeth, Center focused his telekinetic might and shoved Gaath back. Though the Supreme Commander braced himself and dug in his heels, he was unable to resist being pushed back significantly.

            Right hastily chanted a series of words taught to him by 303 and conjured a line of fanged maws from the ground. There was a sudden shattering sound and Gaath looked down to see that the sapphire in his amulet had crumbled apart, indicating that his Shield Guardian had been slain. A moment later, a terrible pain shot through the general’s uninjured leg as a pair of spectral jaws clamped down upon it. Seeing his chance, Left directed his sword to fly forwards and impale the badly wounded general.

            Gaath watched the sword as it flew through the air, hurtling toward his chest. He took one hand off of his weapon and snatched a rune-engraved conch shell from his back. As the deadly weapon was about to strike him, the Supreme Commander held the conch up to his mouth and blew into it, vanishing in a flash of light as the sword passed through the space he had occupied moments before.

            With their general suddenly gone, and his officers slain, the builder army quickly lost ground against the armies of Witherius and his allies. As the last of the enemy soldiers fell to the ground, 303 limped to the center of the battlefield and invoked his magic. The entity began chanting, and a dazzling light show of soul energy emanated from his staff. By the time it was over, the fallen builders had been raised as wither skeletons and the fallen piglins had rejoined the ranks of their comrades as zombies.

             “I guess the Supreme Commander is also the Supreme Fleer,” Left chortled.

            “Good job, everyone!” the wither shouted to his army. “This victory is thanks to your bravery and skill! Together we have made history this day by giving the enemy general his first defeat in many years! But it is not over yet! We must remain strong and push onward to the capital! This war will not end until Viran breathes his last! Let’s make that happen!”

Go to Chapter 7 ⏩