The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 333

Chapter 333: Accident

“One and two and three and four,”

“One and two and three and four,” echoed behind, trailed with the stomping of boots against the ground.

“One and two and three and four,” said he who panted heavily with a sweaty forehead.

“Early morning training,” commented Ysmay peering out to the yard outback.

“Yeah,” returned with less enthusiasm, Eira seemed to have left a part of herself – somewhere far deep beyond reach of an arm.

“What’s the plan for today?”

“I don’t know, I want to go with the guild-master onto a quest, yet, something is holding me back,” solemn, her face held the expression of a withered tree. One left for ages to come, one that had not seen a droplet of water for long.

.....

“It’s fine,” smiled Ysmay reassuringly, “-everything will work out.” A short discussion for they had been awake minutes prior. Farther into the castle, the panting of Class-2A that trained, grew more into an empty chamber. Dark, somber, and devoid of life.

Ordered to meet at the Roth in a few hours, Serene was appointed as a babysitter once more.

“Let us in, let us in,” rays of the sun blinded the guards surveying the main entrance. The noise of volume came as if thunder. Bristling of leaves exploding into a carriage with horses that had gone mad. Came with it was the stench of rotten meat. “LET’S US IN,” said the merchant with straw-hat.

“HALT,” in the process of stopping the fanatic, a guard stepped forward with hand held out. Not apparent at first, the horse had gone crazy.

“Stop!” yelled again to no avail.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY,” screamed the merchant.

“HE’S ABOUT TO BREAKTHROUGH, GET OUT OF THE WAY,” stood on a tower that connected itself with the upper-bridge, an elf, Sergeant to the Royal Guards, drew a bow.

“AIM FOR THE HORSE,” he hailed at the other archers on duty. No hesitation, the spring recoiled darting an arrow straight through the horses’ head and onto the floor. Brain matter latched itself on the tail of said projectile. In a blink, after yelling at the guards, he took command and shot. As for the gate, it shut instantaneously with a crash, one that had the floor rumble.

Dead, the horse dropped with its momentum, the carriage spun out of which it threw the merchant out at a lethal speed. *Foup,* arrow shot high onto the tree, the elf swung without hesitation to grab the would-be casualty. Saved, the carriage tumbled with sheer strength to break onto the gates. Dust rose as if one had thrown a veil of mystery over the carnage. Next to it, the elf slowly descended with the victim in hand, unconscious with a head injury notice only after they landed, “-WE NEED A MEDIC, NOW,” he screamed.

“SERGEANT,” overheard, “-OPEN THE GATES,” hailed the overwatch. Clanged into being lifted, “-where can I find a medic?”

“No medic here,” said one guard.

“The second floor,” added another.

“I NEED NOT LOCATIONS, I NEED ANSWERS, THIS MAN IS ABOUT TO DIE!”

“TO ROTH, TAKE HIM TO ROTH,” yelled few bystanders, “-THE GUILD MASTER SHOULD BE ABLE TO HEAL.”

“Alright, thank you,” and off he went with the bystanders close behind.

“Look at this mess,” voiced another who approached the broken carriage and it’s contents. The foul stench had many taken aback. None really wanted to stick close.

“This isn’t the rotten food,” said a beastman on the way back, “-guards, what happened here?” a crowd had gathered.

“General,” instant salute.

“Explain what happened?” arms crossed; the eyes stared in want for answers.

“Sire,” came forth an elf who gave a summary of the events.

“Crazed horse, what about the contents?” he asked deeply.

“We’ve yet to check, sire,” ashamed, the heads lowered.

“Are you scared by the smell?” he breathed in dismissal, “-out of the way,” commanded, he knelt to unveil a stained sheet from which hailed the god-awful stench. A pull later, the growing pungent rotten devil, dispersed for meters on end. A ground of returning farmers gave a glance to hurl out in a bush. Not only did it travel horizontally, but vertically as well; the proof was of elves pinching their nose. Came upon his eyes were the pale faces of adventurers – the tag around their neck was of Bronze and Ruby. Unknown to him, “-soldiers, take the deceased to the morgue this instant.”

“Yes sire,” laid on the broken wooden planks, the bodies were taken inside into the guards-quarters that hosted a morgue.

“What of the survivor?”

“He was taken to Roth by Sergeant Kelfir.”

“Right.”

Further inside from the accident, the merchant dropped in and out of consciousness. Gasping for air, the sergeant ran as fast as he could. “Here,” waved another fellow trader with a carriage, “-get it,” he said with the back containing the same bystanders.

“Thanks,” a word of gratitude and the horse galloped further into the capital.

“Lady Serene,” opposite the entrance walked Class 2A.

“What is it?” she asked without much thought.

“What quest do you think we might partake in?” excited, Tony skipped with a smile.

“This isn’t a trip to the fairyland you know,” mumbled Harold.

Up ahead, a few meters away from Roth, a crowd was seen gathered around the entrance. Chatter and rumors filled the street. ‘What happened?’ quicker on the feet, they walked closer.

“Do you think the trader will make it?”

“No idea, did you see the injury on his head.”

“Yeah, none can survive that.”

“The gate took damage from the wild carriage,” assumptions of the crowd went in circles.

‘What the heck is happening?’ focused, Serene made her way to the front of the line where droplets of blood went inside. Baffled, the bystanders were distracted by she who’d spoken.

“Please,” said the adventurers now posing as guards, “-the guild master has denied access to anyone.”

“Tough luck,” voiced Serene, “-I’m his assistant,” to which they bowed and allowed her passage.

“The students, my lady?”

“Let them in,” she scurried up the stairs to follow the blood onto the fifth floor.

“I need bandages, mana potions, healing potions, and some alcohol,” ordered the guild-master with hands dowsed in blood. The body of the trader was laid bare naked on the table. Hidden by the shirt, they missed what seemed to be a bite mark on his shoulders. “BLANK SCROLLS TOO,” he yelled to which assistants ran down to the lower floors. Alone, facing the injured man, the entrance to the meeting room had Haru and Mieshre with strong stances.

“What happened?”

“Serene,” turned Haru, “-all I know is that one of my men got injured. I overheard the rumors.”

“Information travels fast,” added Mieshre.

“Excuse us,” voiced the guild assistant who carved a path between the students.

“Is he going to be alright?” asked Christina with a throbbing heart. Never had the students seen the true horror of what it means to fight. Facing Staxius who sweated, they watched with upset stomachs.

‘Minor injury to the head, the problem is this bite mark. Stained dark-purple, the curse from an infected monster. What a pain,’ *Blood-Arts: Crimson Thread,* needles of differing shapes and sizes hovered above the hand. ‘Thankfully they’ve taken care of disinfecting his wound; the first order of business is the stitch the head injury,’ sown without physically interfering, Blood-Arts worked for precision work. ‘The curse; it hasn’t reached a lethal level yet. Good thing no arteries were hit. For him to make it all the way here, a fighter, strong and resilient,’ a glance showed a demi-human with dog ears. Whimpering, sniffles, and yelps of agony followed; he kept on going in and out of consciousness.

“Please stand back,” turned to the assistant, “-removing the curse is a dangerous process,” moved to the door, *Death Element: Magical Barrier,* a sphere engulfed him and the patient. ‘No time to think,’ eyes closed, the hand wrote symbols in the midair. Words of power faintly shone as it stuck onto the blank magical papers. *Snap,* it headed at five-point to form a pentagram, drawn blood for the trader, the symbol settled. Focused with hands pressed together, *I am he who slays without fear, I am he who shall be the last of what thy see. Heed mine call, thou whomst dared to fight the natural order, tis the day thou ought to be destroyed: Ancient Magic – Astral Binding.* Flamed, the scrolls held a crimson hue. It went around the contours of the symbol after which it grew bigger. The taint visibly retreated from the bite marks. Sucked into the symbol, the papers turned black. “AHHHHH,” screams of a man in severe pain had the students taken aback. Grueling, the screaming raged for five long minutes.

“Over,” sighed, the barrier dropped. The empty scrolls, now black, dripped what seemed to be a slimy substance.

*Burnt eternally in my domain, I, Staxius Haggard, the god of death, call forth the flame that purges gods and demons alike. Set ablaze for I’ve ordered so; Abyssal Wrath.* Black to white, the curse turned to dust. Still yet to recover, the wound was quickly stitched. ‘He’s used up more mana than I thought,’ stood daringly, ‘-if he’s not given mana soon,’ grabbing a mana-potion, the latter did naught. Complete refusal from the host, lower concentration, and not refined.

‘Damn it,’ breathing a sigh, *Mana Control: Waves,* the lines around drew to him, *Mana Control: Spiral,* a downward vortex led into the forehead of the demi-human. Charged, the energy dispersed across his face and throughout the body. Abled to contain the flow, neither had an idea of what happened. ‘Healing potions should help in the recovery,’ helped to sit upright, the trader drank with a few spills. Wiped clean, Staxius had the man sleep on the table. A step back to the breath, the sun-burnt itself across the window and on his back; hot yet reassuring, as if a comforting pat.

Blood covered hall cleaned by assistants, he stood with dried blood in hand. *Blood-Arts: Bloody Mary,* soon, the crimson life-force formed into an orb of which resembled an apple.

*Crunch,* he walked to the door where individuals stood.

“Will he be alright?” asked Haru noninterested by him eating an orb of blood.

“Yeah, a few hours rest, the healing potions will aid in fast recovery,” in the corner, a glimpse of Ryul who leaned against the wall. Many of the students wanted to speak out, especially Eira. Attempted to formulate a sentence, “-Ryul,” he walked straight past without acknowledging their presence. A crimson hair figure walked beside the king.

“Majesty,” he bowed in utmost respect, “-I’ve come as thou demanded.”

“Lord Ryul, we’ve a few matters to discuss.”

“Hey, isn’t that the girl from yesterday?” pointed Timothy.

“Lady Serene,” called Eira, “-who’s that?”

“That’s Intherna,” she smiled, “-Majesty’s new,” paused, “-let’s just say his new companion.”

“Why would he require one?” snickered Anastasia, “-maybe the king has grown tired of his family. I surely would,” referred to the drama in the castle, none could refute for it was true.

“Why, don’t you know?” urged Eira with a frown.

“Listen,” distant, “-the king does what he wants,” facing Anastasia, “-I do partially agree with the girl. There may well be truth in those words – a replacement for a daughter; an heir, a disciple, and even a new wife for all that matters. Intherna is very charming, I see no reason for her to be more than that,” left on those words, silence prevailed.

‘Ryul,’ sat in the office, ‘-what drives you,’ peered mercilessly, he scoured for any facial queues.

“I do apologize,” entered Serene.

“Just in time, I’d say,” a casual response of which she smiled.

Closing the door, she walked across with hips moving seductively from left to right, any man worthy of the name would have their heart skip a beat. An overly tight dress, decent yet dangerous, she stood in the company of Intherna who held another charm, one of innocence yet mercilessness.

“What is it that you w-wished to discuss?” gulped Ryul, Serene’s thighs were at eye-level from a sitting position.

‘I just know she’s enjoying tormenting the boy. The charms of a woman, what better way to gain the trust of a man. Intherna as well, she’s trying her best to put on the air of virtuousness. I swear these two are the bane of any man who’d dare walk in here. Time to play some mind-games, Ryul, let’s see thy worth, ally or foe, prove thyself.’ Matched with a face of utter control, the mage frowned. Anywhere he tried to stare, was either faced by the girls or Staxius.

.....