The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 749

Chapter 749: Trek through a new land

Charred mutilated body parts dropped. Tornadoes of pure flame and extreme heat rampaged across the dark-woods, the would-be humid climate dried akin to a dessert. Fumes from the resulting flames, upon inhalation, burned the respiratory tracks – Igna stood away from the carnage under Intherna’s blessing.

The breeched inner sanctum yelped, the scattered somberness had made complete 180’s for the longest time, the region’s unchanging climate grew into ‘-Gryan Batlo,’ nicknamed from a very local story about a man cursed by the gods. The fictional story ran in parrel to what the writer thought about the realm. However, on the day Igna arrived, not so cared about the date, the ever belligerous world – bound by eternal struggles, shone and sparked in various colors and hues.

*Frost breath,* blasted to his side, the remaining horde froze – tornadoes shy of the settlement twirled and disturbed the flying threats.

‘Finally done,’ dropped to one knee, ‘-my left arm’s broken,’ he tightly clenched an open-wound, ‘-I don’t believe my luck,’ the posture ease for he sat on his bottom and contemplated the skyscape, ‘-I find myself looking up more than scanning the ground. Why I wonder,’ the knees pulled and crossed, ‘-there goes Intherna,’ he observed, ‘-the wings of Rah, so splendid and majestic, the raw power in her aura is terrifying. Fenrir’s stronger than before, I don’t get how, better to ask the source directly.’

“Master,” paws galloped, the ground trembled, “-where are you?”

“Here,” he rose a hand and glanced towards the sound, “-Fenrir, here.”

“Master,” the legendary white and blue fur puffed into her human form, “-master,” the strongly shaped eyes and canines sniffled, ice-cold mist exuded each exhale, her eyebrows flashed in recognition, “-where have you been,” she leaped, he caught with one-hand.

.....

“Careful,” he gnashed, the broken arms sent jolts across the body, “-I’m injured here.”

“I didn’t notice,” she shrugged and sat onto her knees, her body and figure, the very epitome of strong and elegant, stared him nonchalantly.

“Still no sense of shame when thou art naked.”

“Why should I be ashamed,” she lifted her shoulders, which in turn rose her breast, Igna sank into his palm in bafflement, “-I’m always running around naked,” her flurry ears danced, “-makes no difference what form I take.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sunk his arm into a dark portal, her expression halted briefly, “-master?” her nose rose, “-what are you doing?”

“Here,” he threw a white buttoned-up shirt and some black trousers, “-too bad I don’t have undergarments. Wear those, for the time being, we’ll get more once we’re into town.”

“About that,” Intherna landed, a cape of flame whisked, rebounded against her back then settled in a semi-hovering state, the eyelashes burnt light blue, “-we may have defeated the monsters, I expect more to come. The sheer amount of power we used is bait for stronger entities, can’t forget the emphasis on strength. The best way to ascertain one’s position is to defeat another. The sun’s already set,” she pointed westward, “-a battle that lasted more than a few hours. I say we leave the settlement as swiftly as possible.”

“Understood,” he clambered to a stand, “-lead the way, Intherna.”

“Luckily,” she smirked, “-I found a cart in one of the abandoned houses, they won’t mind us ‘borrowing’ it.”

“No skin off my back.”

Dusk wrapped the land in darkness, the first star veered its head a few hours after the departure. Fenrir found herself pulling the cart, Intherna sat at the rider’s spot whilst Igna slept on dried plants. Rocks and dips in the not-so-cart-friendly path greatly shook the wooden rectangle, for construction and structural integrity, nothing set it aside. One wrong move and the build would shatter. Nevertheless, Igna laid face up, overarching foliage often looked upon him with the grace of a mother smiling at her babe.

‘Master?’

‘Fenrir, we speaking telepathically?’

‘Yes. We need to talk, don’t we?’

‘I agree. Firstly, tell me what happened, I want to know the details.’

‘I’ll try my hardest. I have no idea how long it’s been, feels recent, we got ready for Ayleth’s marriage, the groom arrived in magnificently ornamented vehicles. Then, I don’t know-how, a strong entity infiltrated the event, we were forced into a deadly battle. Friends and foe died, I died so easily I never knew who killed me. Next, I reawakened in an unfamiliar land, I must have slept or something, I have vague memories of attacking people, devouring other beasts, destroying villages. The sharpest fangs win, and that is the extent of my recollection. Though, when I sense the aura of another strong fighter, something inside called out, thuds broke my slumber bit by bit, the familiar aura and pact we forged must have pulled my consciousness.’

‘A mindlessness curse was placed on thee, perhaps the job of they who brought you to Draebala. I don’t care who did what and why, thing is, I’ve found you alive and well. Gives me hope for the future. My turn, you have to get up to speed with what’s happened,’ and so, in a comprehensive summary, the whole story about what happened was recounted.

‘Never expected the bond between you and the queen to break, here I thought the love to be pure and filled with trust. Little Lizzie died, everyone, I knew is gone, the family we built is gone,’ heavy sighs murmured to the front, ‘-should I drop the whole Master title?’

‘Call me Igna, my powers aren’t so impressive nowadays, feels tacky.’

‘How long will you stay in Draebala?’

‘Until we find an appropriate soul to do battle against. We ought to capture their soul and return home; you’re coming with.’

‘I’m afraid it won’t be so easy, most of my being is tied here, separation will most likely break the remainder of my soul.’

‘I wouldn’t worry, there’s a simple solution, join my realm. The night is upon us, let’s discuss the matter at greater lengths tomorrow, fair?’ Tomorrow arrived, Igna, Fenrir, and Intherna, motivated by the constant battle for survival, grew close. Restriction on the flight made the journey ever-so longer, a total duration of four weeks was needed. Live off the land, hunt, fish, ravage for supplies – eventually, after reaching the trade route, pulling the cart simplified, though ambushes from bandits and monsters were commonplace. Every morning and night, a stranger side of Igna bubbled from the depths of his mind and body, the subconscious retrained his physique from the ground up. Muscle memories awakened, before long, he could run at the same speed when shadow-step was employed, the vampiric vessel and bountiful abundance of stronger foe’s blood strengthened the physical self. Training under the muffled voice of his father, the swordsmanship learned through years of experience found a stable footing.

Current day, three weeks after the arrival, “-there’s no point rescuing the cart,” said Intherna. The path narrowed and led upwards to a hill, the vegetation swapped from pine to stuffier, less tall, plants. Trees weren’t predominant; the slope side bore overgrown weeds and edible fruits and berries – an uncanny flatness aroused interest.

‘Another squabble,’ he gave up on Intherna and Fenrir, climbed to the start of the slope, dropped into a push-up posture, and examined the land, ‘-no rocks, artificial feeling,’ he rose and sat on his calf, gazing onto the overgrown meadow.

“Igna, we need to settle this disagreement,” voiced Fenrir, “-should we leave the cart or not.”

“There’s no argument here,” said Intherna, “-we both agree to discard the thing but can’t seem to accept we came to the same conclusion, very ominous.”

“No, you’re making it awkward,” fired Fenrir thrusting her upper torso to show disdain.

Intherna’s glabella crinkled, her right cheeks twitched in annoyance, “-I see why I’m angry,” she glared downward, “-the wolf has a better figure.”

“Calm yourself,” he ambled to their stead, “-leave the cart behind, we’re far from the mountains, we ought be able to fly, right?”

“Yes, we ought to,” said she, “-why were you staring at the soil?”

“I’ve learned something in the days we’ve traveled, the land always speaks in action, if one can observe, one can tell of what is to come. The hill here was previously used as farmland, tis abandoned, I found remains of charred plants, there was an attack of some sort. Without a map, there’s no telling where we are.”

“Climb the hill already, there should be a town around here somewhere.” The march resumed; the conquest of the hill marked a vantage point to scour the land. Clearing in the ceiling of gray told of the various towns, and here, two rose, one close and the other shy behind a mountain range. “-The path splits at the foot of the hill, what should we do?” inquired Fenrir.

“We can fly,” said Intherna, “-let’s head over there,” she pointed to the closest town.

“Understood,” wings sprouted, “-Fenrir, is it possible to shrink further?”

“No problem,” a puff of white replaced the tall and fetching lady into an adorable size, her smaller, puppy dog ears and swaying tail sent a shock through Intherna’s frown.

“How cute,” her pitch heightened, “-I love cute things,” she dropped to her height and pitched, “-Fenrir, you’re cute, stay an infant forever.”

“Whatever,” her petite hands rose to be cradled, “-take me to the town, new undergarments would be nice just about now.”

“Right, we do smell.” They flapped just after checking an olden signpost, ‘Tariel,’ pointed to the right, ‘-Soliaet,’ went to the left. The trip shortened into a few hours – one which would have taken a few days, even a week if matters weren’t favorable.

The town of Tariel, they landed. If the settlement’s stonewall seemed to be big, this one made the other feel akin to a toddler, a tall heavy mass circled the town, emblems of the ruler were carved into the stone itself. Guards, rare, and a few focused much of the attention on the front. A river flowed in and out of the town, thus being used for irrigation outside the walls, the plains of grain and food stretched onto where the eye could not see. Villages were built to support agriculture – the closest jungle being a few kilometers from the settlement.

“Pay no heed to the village,” said Intherna, “-Draebala’s a tough place to survive, with or without monsters and destruction.”

“Are there guilds and taverns inside?” he inquired.

“Yeah, and I doubt we can afford them,” said Fenrir, “-the cost of living is high, very high.”

“How would you know?”

“A gut feeling,” she chuckled, “-shall we head inside?” they joined a line, on ground level, the grandness of the wall seems to go on infinitely, try as one might, the end of the construction could never be seen, it simply stretched, and stretched and stretched. Village people lined, ‘-they wear shabby clothes, traders are given priority,’ as observed by a separate line, ‘-if what I’m told is true; moving freely is impossible. Supplies are the same as gold, the carriages are armored to some extent, fighters stand close. Merchants are to be very influential; leads me to suspect a class system where one’s pedigree is dependent on their wares.’

“Fee of entrance,” the line shortened without his acknowledgment, “-Hey, are you there?” inquired a monotonous voice; the arched tunnel cast a heavy shadow.

“I apologize for my comrade’s behavior,” said Intherna, “-we’re traveling merchants, our cart was attacked and looted by bandits. We’d hope to meet with an acquaintance, is it possible to pay the fee of admission later?”

“No money no entrance,” said the guard, “-please get out of the line.”

“But sire,” she insisted.

“No means no,” replied the guard.

“Come on, Intherna,” said Igna, “-no need to trouble the man,” they jumped out, crossed the trader’s only path, and stood under the tall mass, overlooking a grassy pasture.

“Why did you stop me?”

“Causing a scene won’t suffice. The seduction didn’t work, the man wasn’t exactly alive,” he observed, “-a zombie or golem kind of feel, lifeless and dull. I’d do the same to avoid the human error side of things.”

“What then?”

“We could always ask for information,” sighted Fenrir, “-the village.”

“I see,” he nodded, “-poverty and sufferance, the preferred tool of revolutionists. Gathering information shouldn’t be hard – leave the talking to me.”