The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 687

Chapter 687: True Demonlord [18]

Whatever it be, a monster slingshotted across the lagoon to shore or so said the many expressions. Dulam, in his exposed attire, watched in distress. A mangled figure halted from the rest, silence permeated, the Valkyries gave looks of recognition. The head of an octopus, beard, and mouth spouted tentacles, upper toro was one of mystery, a shabby robe hid the limbs until the feet, where, the latter, showed a viscous substance.

Slots in the moist and shiny head presumably, the eyes, fell onto the Dullahan. It scanned and screeched, “-Lord Igna, we’re in trouble.”

“I know,” he replied with a handheld out, “-I conjured the barrier.” The sudden stop came on instinct – if it had continued, the beasts would have turned into sliced meat. “-What is that?”

“The guardian of the continent. An emissary of the great beast of the sea, Kraken.”

“The giant squid?”

“No, octopus,” firmed the man, “-what stands before us is part of Kraken’s body. It can create unlimited peons to do whatever it wishes. Basically, slaves, and bodyguards.”

“Why not fight the creature?”

.....

“Impossible. The closer we are to the sea, the stronger the Kraken becomes. By our belief, he’s the god of the sea.”

“Not really,” said Igna, “-the beast is but a giant without much elegance,” he fiercely stared at the tangled entity, “-am I correct to assume it’s connected to the greater one?”

“Yes, they share senses.”

“Well, should be great enough,” the open palm motioned to a snap, *-Come forth, Vengeance.*

“-How may I serve?” whispered a chilling aura.

“Kill the eyesore.”

“Your wish is my command,” save for the footprints, none would have spotted the spirit. The exchange went as follows, in less than a few minutes, the headless carcass of the invader was held by the mouth, “-Job is done, master,” said a giggle.

“Good, take the body and leave. I’m hopeful it will make a great lunch; seafood is a favorite of Saniata.”

“Will do.”

From outside looking in, the battle ended with a few spells and slashes. Brvya and the others watched in bemusement. Heavy footsteps lingered in their shadows, “-We need to talk.”

“-stop!” startled one.

“Again with the sneaking,” exhaled another. “-Lord Dulam, you ought to be more careful.”

“Brvya,” he reached out, “-stop looking distant and face me.”

“O-okay,” she turned her sight into a circle.

The lovely sea breeze took the edge of a hot day, “-are we going to ignore what happened?”

“I think so,” answered Dulam, “-a peon of Kraken was defeated, there’s no way around the facts. The peons we were told to fear and hail as envoys of the great ones died easily.”

“I’ve seen them in action,” interjected Brvya, “-they are no joke, three against it and we may still lose. The best way is to instantly kill them; a battle of attrition is death,” she peeped over the shoulder, “-I wonder if the man knew the weakness.”

“Wondering won’t solve the situation. We lost the battle and he spared our lives. At the moment, there are two choices, either we serve him, or kill ourselves.”

“WHAT?”

“Don’t lash out,” he gritted.

“BUT...”

“I know, the warrior code and whatnot,” he side-glanced Brvya, “-the exile is tedious, we were abandoned by our motherland, there’s no beating about the bush. Separate truth from illusion; you know as well as I do, we don’t have a place to return.”

“He’s odd.”

“I know, there’s something about him, the aura, tis not sane for a human.”

“He’s a nightwalker and inheritor of many symbols of power. Listen closely, and I mean you Brvya, what we fought wasn’t him at his best, he merely toyed with us. I mean, just look at him.” A simultaneous turn showed the innocently visaged Igna napping, “-he doesn’t even seem bothered.”

“What should we do. I don’t want to become slave to a man.”

“You already serve me, what’s the point?” shrugged Dulam.

“No, Lord Dulam, you’re more than man...”

“Oh please,” he breathed, “-we need an answer. The attack on the land was unjust and ignorant – we thought we were stronger... look now, defeated without a say in the matter.”

“I say we follow him,” urged Brvya.

“Sorry?” exclaimed the crowd.

“The days of Valkyries have passed. We’re nothing, we mean nothing, and will probably become nothing. Tell me, Dulam, who proposed the idea about us resting?”

“It was him, I thought you heard.”

“For an enemy to kill us viciously, alter reality, and then propose for us to take a break and play – the man must be out of his mind, and I think,” her shoulder rose confidently, “-working under him might prove beneficial. There a slim chance we could go back and change our homeland...”

“I didn’t consider.”

Shadows marred the already shut eyes, countless figures gathered about the beach chair, “-has a decision been met?” the eyes opened.

“Yes, we’ve decided to serve, my lord,” said Dulam.

“Great choice,” he teleported into the sandy beach, “-hear me, Valkyries and Dullahan, the world I offer is subjective. Happiness, pleasure, serenity, they can be found if thee seek long enough. I know the ladies are very opposed to serving a man, and I agree, I shan’t do so. There I say are other options, serve me directly which involves staying in this continent, move to the Shadow Realm, presided over by four goddesses, or move to my homeland as a resident of my estate, the Town of Glenda. I strongly recommend the second option; in said place, there’s no need to fight nor protest, the generals will make sure life is adequate.”

“Do we have to fight?” wondered one.

“Only if thee wishes. The worth of a fighter isn’t in brawns, but the ability to see a greater picture,” he paused. The intense chatter came in waves, at times, close to an argument, and other, a silence respace. “-Break into three groups.”

The majority picked the second, among which was Brvya. Dulam opted for the third option, Igna’s land piqued his interest, what better way to learn about his master than a visit home. Lastly, a singular lady of short stature picked the first.

“Midne,” called Brvya, “-why are you there?”

“I want to learn more about this world,” said she, “-respect my choice, tis the way I wish to move forward.”

“Looks like young Midne wishes to find her path,” commented Dulam, “-good, I for once am happy about the outcome. The choices have been made,” he looked forward.

“Drop the angry expression,” commented the others, “-she’ll be just fine.”

“The choices have been made,” said Igna, “-three groups will now depart on their journey. Word of advice for the second group, don’t act out of line, especially before Intherna, she has a short fuse,” the expression altered, “-I forgot to mention, you have to die first,” a white line cleanly went across their necks, *Once living now dead. O’ thee who’ve lost thine life to mine blade, thee who held regrets in the mortal world, I grant thee a chance at life. Be one with those who are to serve me, Blood-Arts: Ghoul Revival* the severed heads rejoined almost instantly, *Living or dead, I invite all to the realm of absurdity, serve me and my companions, be one of a greater family. Forgo of the past and look towards the future, one in which thou art be immortal and without regret. Box of Soul: Shadow Realm Transmigration.*

A darkened mist shrouded the first and second group, the latter vanished whilst the former remained still. Dulam stared cluelessly, “-what happened?”

“Ascension to my domain requires death, and thus, they’ve been reincarnated as better versions of themselves. The memories and bodies are the same, worry not. I’ve spared you for the time being. Hidros is a land of monsters, who knows what will happen. Once you’re teleported in Glenda, ask for the stewardess and say I’ve sent thee.”

“As you wish,” he dawned the black armor, “-off I go. Take care Midne,” a nod, and the beach fell silent. Braided black hair in the style of the ancient warriors, an innocent oval-shaped face, black eyes, a tan complexion, and the figure of a seasoned fighter, the muscles didn’t overly give the air of masculinity, instead, they complimented her overall feel, if not for her shorter stature, she’d have been very imposing.

“Midne, was it?”

“I-I sorry,” her head lowered, “-I decided to stay for a selfish reason.”

“And?”

“I want to be confident... like you.”

“I see,” he held out a hand, “-I didn’t think someone would be crazy to serve under me. Welcome to the land of Alphia, I should properly introduce myself. My name’s Igna Haggard, Viscount of Glenda, a town in the continent of Hidros. From what was said earlier, you must hail from the land of Marinda, the one mentioned in ancient writings?”

“Yes,” she answered softly, “-Marinda’s a divided land of many entities. Only the strongest is allowed to rule the people, for now, the spot is occupied by Goddess Freya.”

“Queen Freya the wicked.”

“Don’t say... never mind, I forgot.”

“Her title is taboo to speak, goes to say about the state of affairs. No matter,” he firmed his grip, “-Midne, I don’t know what thee seek or wishes. Are you any good at chores?”

“I can somewhat clean and cook, why?”

“Good, you’ll be working as aid to my butler,” he smiled, “-the confidence you seek can only be found deep within. I guarantee food, shelter, and a moderately lavish lifestyle. Don’t feel awkward, consider me a friend before master. Very obnoxious from the man who killed thee twice.”

“No, no, I’m grateful,” she bowed, “-I’ll try my hardest.”

“Next question, how good are you in a fight?”

“Fight?” her eyes narrowed, “-depends.”

“Well, what about this,” he turned to the sea, *-Powers inherited by the authority of king, I order servants deep in the sea, sky, and land, to manifest and obey my word,* the signet ring shone, *-appear and fight.* Rumbles heightened her senses, monsters of various kind rose from the sea, the sand, and the sky – a horde of fifty leaped in ambush. The precariously dressed Midne swiftly made for her weapon, swung, ducked, used her height, and masterfully slain the remnants. *Huff, puff,* blood on her cheeks warmly turned to dust.

*Clap, clap, clap,* “-very good,” he complimented, “-the title of Valkyrie is earned, from what I’ve seen, you’re very strong.”

“Excuse me,” she held her bra, “-why?”

“To test your abilities. Come on, I see there was a wardrobe malfunction. Should be more careful next time, imagine if the bra had been your neck, what then?”

“I understand,” she followed.

‘The mystic land of Marinda, point of mana convergence, the land of the gods. Tis said, the first divine beings occupied said land and thus expanded to the other continents. The place of floating isle and idyllic streams of pure mana essence, I wonder how much is real and how much is fake.’

“Here we are,” they stood before the imperial estate. The architecture strayed from castle to symmetrical and rectangular, the sharpness of a slightly sloped roof broke the tension.

“Who goes there?” wondered a guard.

“Empress Eira’s cousin, Igna Haggard.”

.....

“-Let him in,” said the intercom. The entrance gave for a magnificent yard.

“Is it fine for me to come?” inquired Midne.

“Stop being shy.”

Loftha waited at the porch, her face somewhat mixed between gratitude and anger, “-Igna...”

“Princess.”

“WHAT HAPPENED EARLIER?”

“Nothing much,” he laughed, “-before we continue, meet my new maid, Midne, she’s part of the gang who attacked the continent.”

“WHAT?”

“Don’t shout,” he sighed, “-I need a favor.”

“I see,” she followed his gaze, “-the lady needs undergarments?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “-how’s Xyra?”

“Come on in,” her breathing softened, “-I’ll look for clothes, he’s in the living room.”

The gracious inside was a slap, ‘-here I thought the manor was obnoxiously decorated. This takes the cake.’