Paragon of Destruction

Chapter 384 Reavers End

As soon as Arran had ripped the Reaver’s amulet away, he hurried two dozen paces backward. Then, without hesitation, he tore away the thick mass of Shadow Essence he’d used to subdue the creature.

Freeing the Reaver was dangerous, but he knew it was necessary. He only had a single chance to witness how removing the amulet would affect it, and to see the full effects, he needed the creature to wake from its stupor.

Still, the Reaver recovered faster than he could have imagined.

The instant Arran removed the mass of Shadow Essence he’d used to subdue the creature, it sprang to its feet. And then, with a single leap, it was upon him, swinging its rough blade at his head even before it landed.

The Reaver’s attack was as ferocious as it was powerful. It came at Arran like a starving wolf attacking its prey, charging at him without the slightest concern for its own safety. Within seconds, it had already struck a dozen vicious blows, each of them intended to kill.

Yet Arran was prepared for the attack. He’d seen the Reaver’s strength when it was forced to kill its allies, and impressed though he had been, he knew he could match it.

And so, he weathered the onslaught calmly. Vicious though the creature’s attacks might be, he deflected and parried them as they came, slowly retreating as his enemy struggled to close the distance.

Lady Raina had said some Reavers could match Knights, but that wasn’t the case for this particular specimen. Though it was stronger than a Ranger, its strength and skill were no match for Arran’s.

Moreover, as the Reaver completely ignored its defense, Arran had plenty of opportunities to land strikes of his own. After barely half a minute, the creature already bore half a dozen deep wounds.

Yet it didn’t take long for Arran to realize that something was off. He’d initially thought the creature’s viciousness was like that of its Blightspawn allies, but now, he recognized that it was different.

What he saw in the creature’s jet-black eyes wasn’t bloodlust. Rather, it was fear. And what he’d taken for viciousness was actually desperation — desperation at retrieving the amulet, he realized.

Still, he felt no sympathy for the creature. Not after the Blightspawn had taken the lives of over a dozen of his allies.

He calmly continued to fend off the Reaver’s relentless attacks, slowly retreating as he parried each of its strikes. And although he had several chances to finish his opponent, he did not do so. Instead, he waited patiently to see what would happen to the creature without its amulet.

The wait turned out to be a short one.

If the Reaver’s attacks had been furious from the start, they soon grew frantic. Whatever skills the creature possessed, it seemed to have forgotten them completely in its desperation to take back the amulet.

No longer did it fight like a trained swordsman. Instead, it attacked with a panicked rage, almost impaling itself on Arran’s sword as it blindly charged at him.

Yet the enraged creature’s frenzied attacks achieved little. A lesser swordsman might have been overwhelmed by its fierceness, but Arran dodged the artless attacks with ease.

Then, suddenly, the Reaver came to a halt, its giant body abruptly frozen as its black eyes went wide with terror. And as Arran looked at it, he saw a ripple go through the creature’s pale skin, as if the power within its body was on the verge of bursting through.

At once, he hurried backward, putting several dozen paces between himself and the creature. If all the Essence within its body was unleashed at once, he had no desire to be next to it.

Yet the eruption he expected did not come. Instead, the Reaver remained frozen in place, its skin bubbling and blistering as if it was being burned from the inside.

The creature opened its mouth as if to scream, but despite its tortured expression, no sound came forth. Then, after several moments, it collapsed to the ground.

Arran watched the Reaver with a deep frown, half expecting it to rise again. Yet no more movement came from the creature, and after a minute had passed, he knew it was truly dead.

Still, he did not approach the creature’s body immediately. Instead, he stared at his fallen foe with a ponderous expression, forehead creased in a deep frown as he considered what he’d learned.

The battle had not at all gone as he’d expected.

For a start, the Reaver had lasted far longer than he’d thought possible. He had assumed the creature would die within moments of losing its amulet, but instead, it had fought on for several minutes.

That could only mean that its resistance to the Essence within its body did not come solely from the amulet. Perhaps, Arran thought, it might even have some innate magical ability — though not enough to use magic after losing its amulet.

It had proved more intelligent than he expected, too. While the Blightspawn were little more than beasts, the Reaver seemed almost human. Whatever had been done to grant it its powers, he had little doubt that its mind had remained mostly intact.

And finally, it had seen through his Shadowcloak with ease. This wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it was a setback nonetheless.

Effective though the thick cloud of Shadow Essence had been in blinding the Blightspawn, it would blind his allies as well. And worse, any Darian Knights would instantly recognize it as magic.

Arran let out a small sigh, but then, he turned his attention back to the Reaver’s body. There might be things he could learn from it yet.

A quick inspection was enough to show that the creature’s previously smooth skin was now covered in burns and blisters — no surprise, given the manner in which it had died.

Yet what did surprise Arran was how closely the Reaver’s injuries resembled the scars on the Blightspawn. With a single glance, he knew the similarity wasn’t a coincidence. Whatever means had been used to create the Blightspawn, it was similar to what had killed the Reaver.

His hopes of finding anything else, however, were soon dashed. Other than the amulet, the Reaver carried no magical items, nor did it have any scrolls or documents.

Still, Arran wasn’t too disappointed by the lack of results. He had already expected as much. Whoever had sent the Blightspawn into the Imperium had surely known they would be killed sooner or later.

He spent another few moments checking the body to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, and when he was certain there was absolutely nothing to be found, he stood up and cast a long look at the battlefield.

Though the battle had been easy, the devastation was no less for it. Hundreds of Blightspawn bodies littered the ground around him, and although most of them bore the razor-like cuts of Arran’s blade, more than a few had been burned and disfigured by the Reaver’s magic.

Arran paid the dead bodies little attention, however. Instead, he sought out those few Blightspawn whose wounds hadn’t killed them yet, then swiftly ended their lives.

He also gathered half a dozen iron amulets from the Blightspawn’s bodies. The rest would have to be gathered the next morning, but it wouldn’t hurt to study the amulets before that.

Then, after a final look at his slain enemies, he dropped his Shadowcloak and set off toward the village.

It had taken him less than an hour to defeat the Blightspawn, but he knew both Kaleesh and the mercenaries would be anxious for news.

As far as they knew, the Blightspawn were still alive, ready to attack at any moment. And after the disastrous battle they’d fought earlier, he had no doubt that their spirits would be low.

When he reached the gate, he would it well-guarded, with nearly a dozen mercenaries atop the wall and Kaleesh among them.

The captain was the first to spot him. "Arran?" he called out, some suspicion in his voice. "Is that you?"

"The Blightspawn are dead," Arran replied. "So there’s no need for you to sacrifice yourself tonight. Now open the gate and let me inside."

It took some moments for the mercenaries to open the gate, and when Arran finally stepped inside, he found Kaleesh already waiting for him.

"You succeeded?" the captain asked, his expression tense as he looked at Arran.

Arran nodded in response. "I defeated the group that was preparing to attack us," he said. "None of them escaped. Still..." He cast a look at the gate. "You’ll want to keep some guards posted. I didn’t see any other groups out there, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any."

"Of course," the captain replied. With a curious glance at Arran, he continued, "But you barely look like you’ve been in battle at all. What happened?"

"We can discuss that later," Arran said, casting a meaningful look at the mercenaries around them. "First, let’s get the gate closed."

Several minutes passed before the gate was closed and the mercenaries had returned to their posts. Then, when they were finally alone, Arran and Kaleesh stepped inside one of the village’s abandoned houses.

"So what happened?" Kaleesh asked as he sat down on a rickety wooden chair. "Was there a Reaver among the Blightspawn?"

"There was," Arran confirmed, handing Kaleesh the silver amulet he’d taken from the Reaver. "Though it wasn’t as strong as I’d feared. But there’s something else we need to discuss."

The captain gave the amulet a brief inspection before he put it down on the table and turned his attention back to Arran. "Something we need to discuss?" he asked, curiosity in his eyes. "What did you see out there?"

"The Reaver," Arran said. "After I fought it, when it died..." He paused, then continued with a troubled expression, "I think there are stronger creatures in the Desolation. Far stronger."

"Lady Raina told us as much." Kaleesh gave Arran a questioning look. "But from the worry on your face, I take it you learned something about those creatures?"

"Not exactly," Arran replied. "For now, it’s only a guess. But from what I saw, I suspect that Reavers and Blightspawn are both failures."

"Failures?" Kaleesh frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Both Blightspawn and Reavers were created through magic," Arran explained. "Of that, I have no doubt. But I think their creator was trying to make something more powerful. The creatures we faced... I believe they are the rejects, the ones who failed to become what their creator intended."

At this, a hint of concern appeared in Kaleesh’s eyes. "What do you think their creator intended to make?"

"Mages," Arran replied. "But ones with the physical strength to match their power in magic. Like Knights with the power of Grandmasters, or even Archmages."

"Like you, then?" Kaleesh asked, his eyebrow raised as he looked at Arran.

Arran shook his head. "Stronger than me. Probably much stronger. You see..." He paused for several moments, trying to find the words to explain it. Finally, he went on, "Both the Blightspawn and the Reavers were forcibly given their magical power, but I think that what separates them is that the Reavers better withstood that power."

"But not completely," Kaleesh said, understanding now dawning in his eyes. "And you worry that there are ones who withstood it better."

"Exactly," Arran said. He picked up the silver amulet from the table, and continued, "Both the Blightspawn and the Reavers need their amulets to control the magic in their bodies. But what if there are others who don’t need amulets at all?"

"I don’t know," Kaleesh replied flatly. "You tell me. You’re the mage here."

Arran gave him a cheerless smile. "I suppose I am, at that." He shrugged, and went on, "If there are others who can control that artificial power themselves, I imagine the difference between them and Reavers would be as large as that between Reavers and Blightspawn. Maybe even larger."

Kaleesh made an ugly face. "Then they could be as strong as Lords."

"Exactly," Arran said. "And if they’re created through magic, there could be many."

A ponderous looked appeared on the captain’s face, but after some moments, he shook his head. "If there were such creatures in the Desolation, the Darians would have been defeated long ago. You might be right, but if so, those creatures should be far away from the border — farther than we’ll travel, at least."

Arran knew Kaleesh was right. Even if the creatures he envisioned did exist — and he still wasn’t certain of that — they had to be far enough from the border that the Darians didn’t encounter them.

Still, something about the thought left him uneasy. They shouldn’t have encountered Blightspawn this far east, either, but over a dozen mercenaries lay dead at the creatures’ hands nonetheless. And if the situation to the west was changing, a distant threat might prove closer than they expected.

He sat in silence for some minutes, but finally, he let out a sigh and turned to Kaleesh.

"So what are your plans?" he asked. "After today’s losses, do you still intend for us to travel to the Desolation?"

"I do," Kaleesh said. "Tomorrow, we will bury the dead. After that, we will rest for some days before continuing to Knight’s Watch." He cast a look at Arran, then added, "At least, those among us who wish to continue."

There was a hint of a question in his voice, as if he wasn’t certain whether Arran would stay. Yet although Arran was aware of the dangers that lay ahead, the thought of leaving hadn’t even crossed his mind.

Leaving aside his loyalty to Kaleesh, he knew that for all its dangers, the Desolation still offered his best chance at learning the Darians’ secrets. And what he’d seen had only strengthened his resolve to learn as many of those as he could find.

"We should recruit some Darians in Knight’s Watch," he said. "If we’re heading into the Desolation, we’ll need all the strength we can get."