Fathers of Power Chapter 2: War for Libson

It was dusk. A white wall of grand defence lined the noble city. The sun had chased away the clouds and was watching from its place. On the highest hill of the city stood a tall tower that was made for such occasions. Ki, Giovanni, Kyle, Azar, Marco and Viknor stood there, from which they could see all the white troops from the spyglasses. The parade of soldiers, from where they stood, looked chillingly beautiful, and it would be a shame the chaos that they would fall into.

***

“Greyner, you shall lead the attack on Zakashi Village,” the king commanded, “Your troops leave immediately. I have sent orders down the line to adjust your regiment.”

“My king!” the supreme general came in, sounding very displeased, “Why am I not the one to lead the attack?!”

“You will be leading the main attack, general!” The king sounded annoyed. The soldier laughed; he just wanted to hear the sound of such a grand statement.

“I will not fail you, my king,” high general Greyner said, bowing slightly, “I will make the finest U.S.G this province has ever seen.”

“You best. I will send you with two thousand men instead of one,” the king said, “Hercule will feel proud in defeat if I send so many men to conquer them.”

“Wonderful, my lord!”

“Zedra!” king Aragan summoned, grabbing on to his wrist. The witch appeared in a cloud of redness. “You will do as planned. Get the commanding generals to their positions and accompany Greyner to Zakashi village. As soon as your spells are through, waste no time tarrying before returning to my side.”

“Yes, my king.”

***

It was about a month before that the reconstruction of the Zakatian keep was complete. It was far more secure than it had ever been. With walls of thick concrete eight meters high and ninety-six columns of stone and steel, the building which nearly fully centred the village covered many acres. Every house in the village was empty. Packed inside this one building was what remained of Zakashi’s race, Blade’s people. Sitting on the roof of the building was the single man who vowed to protect the village, his legs folded and his eyes closed, his sword cased before him. He was the legacy of Zakashi. Blade had told his villagers that a mere handful of men would strike. If he had told them even half the truth, there would have been no order. People would have panicked and abandoned the village, probably to get killed by soldiers on their way there.

***

“Prime Minister Ki, I beg you, send even a thousand men to Zakashi Vallage!” Kyle pled, even like his own family was living there.

“You must understand, young one, my forces are already on the brink of insufficiency. There is nothing I can do for—”

“Old man, just how strong are you?” Kyle asked Viknor.

“Heh.” There was a sudden smirk on the man’s face, like he was itching to answer such a question. “Let’s just say… in my prime, only one sorcerer could rival me.” Azar glanced over at him, curious to hear the rest of his words. He wanted to know even much more than Kyle the limits of this man’s sorcery, and how he came by becoming so adept. “Decades ago, when I had far less experience and far more vigour, I had my reasons for attacking the Ogal council that sits in Notherland.” Viknor almost laughed, seeing the look on Azar’s face. “I was quite impressed by the council’s leader, Catherina. We two were the only magicians I knew that had achieved sixth grade sorcery, that is besides my father, who himself visited even the seventh state.”
This man’s father?! An arcane sorcerer?! Azar thought, finding such things more impressive than being the king of the world.

“I clashed with her many times. I tried my best to kill her, and she me. She didn’t want the other councillors to get involved with our battles. I’m pretty sure she didn’t want them to know that there was a sorcerer she had trouble defeating herself. One day though…” The man laughed a little, remembering everything clearly. “As I was about to defeat her I am sure, she called upon the council. They immediately made a barrier with a spell it took the seven of them combined to wield, and there was no escape. The barrier covered about a cubic mile. Not even my level of shifting could get me out of there. Quite nifty those councillors were. There within the barrier I faced and battled the seven councillors. Their strengths put together gave them an edge over me, and victory became more than just difficult. I stood my ground, though, until my mana was completely depleted.” He began laughing again. “It was the best fight I ever got myself into…” His face changed to a more serious, more pensive countenance. “But the price for such a thrill was barely worth it… When I could no longer put up a fight, after hours of battle, they bound me, and combined their strengths to cast upon me a forbidden technique, an Ogal spell that was supposed to seal away my magic forever. Then they deported me to the town I told them I was from, and I was thrown in the prison here. They still kept me bound with the anti-magic ropes, probably doubting the integrity of their sealing spell.”

“Then how are you still a sorcerer?” Azar asked, “And why stay in prison? I’m pretty sure you could have gotten out even without my help. You fought the entire Ogal Council?! Just what manner of wizard are you?!”

“Enough stories! Look! The Magmalians approach!” Giovanni gave out.
“Viknor, go! Get word to all my men that the enemy is only a few miles out! The mounted archers shall now attack!” Giovanni commanded the wizard. With that, the old man vanished in purple.

Without ado, the few who stood in the lookout tower took turns to spy through the eight glasses. Indeed, masses of black and red were zoning in from every side. Kyle wondered immediately if the soldiers had reached Zakashi Village as well. “Please, Prime Minister, send a few of your men to Zakashi!” Kyle pled again, “Viknor will transport them there. If you do not, the village will be destroyed!” Ki heard the desperation in the boy’s voice and saw it in his eyes. Azar noticed that Ki was actually considering it this time.

“He and I will lead the company,” Azar said, “as Herculean commanders.” Kyle looked up at Azar, who, just moments ago, was the Magmalian Prince.

***

“Finally,” Blade muttered under his breath. Circling Zakashi Village with a radius of about a mile was a sudden appearance of red mana. A panting Zedra appeared beside the mounted Greyner. Only he was on a horse, and he carried a sword and a Magmalian flag. The witch looked like she had just survived a day-long battle. She held her head as she nearly fell. “Are all my men here?” Greyner asked the woman, looking about. Soldiers were everywhere. They looked giddy, and there was much chattering and excitement. Just moments ago, they were many miles from the village they could now see almost clearly. “Yes, general. Your two thousand men are surrounding the village with a mile to cover.”

“Good,” the army man said, then snickered a little. “Then send out the signal let us march to our victory!”

“Right away!” Zedra panted some more, then raised her right hand, her palm flat on the sky. “Close your eyes,” she warned those nearby. Then a bright beam of red mana jetted up toward the clouds. On the signal seen by two thousand men, there was a sudden roar and the sound of an earthquake, as Magmalians advanced to finally crush the village of the sword. Greyner rode through the waste mana left behind by Zedra’s disappearance.

Blade sat on the roof unmoving as hundreds of men trampled the sacred grounds of the village of Zakashi, son of Kizer, and his descendant, Blade. In moments, the entire village was invaded by the Magmalians, who appeared numberless to one another. “Halt!” the commanding general, Greyner shouted, and the soldiers did as commanded. The shrine the lone swordsman was on was thickly surrounded. The soldiers looked up at their enemy. There was chattering and confusion. They had found it strange that they had seen no one to fight thus far. Somehow, finding this one swordsman sitting on a roof was even stranger. “My men! Silence!” Greyner shouted, and order resumed. “Hidden within this fort you look upon are the entire Zakashi Village! We will break it down and capture everyone inside! Kill whoever puts up a fight!” There was a mighty roar from the army. “But first, watch me defeat this man who so many has grown to fear! Greyner quickly made his way up on the roof where Blade was still sitting. The soldiers watched keenly. They had all heard of Blade. Finally, they would see him in action for themselves. Greyner tossed the flag down to one of his men. The solider caught it nervously. If he had let it hit the ground, it would have cost him his life. Greyner eyed the archers that were well ready to pierce the unmoving Blade with their arrows. “This is almost too easy to be called a victory,” Greyner said with a smirk. He looked about at his massive audience.

“Have you not heard the tales?” Blade finally said, just opening his icy eyes. His sword was calmly lying before him, comfortably relaxing in its sheath, as if having no interest in spilling the blood of these weaklings.

“Blade of Zakashi Village, the living legend… Who hasn’t heard the tales? You may be good, but only a god could defeat this army singlehandedly!”

“I will give you one chance, just to be at peace with my conscience.”

“What?!”

“Withdraw. Lead not your men to their death, who have wives and children to mourn for them.” Greyner and all else who heard Blade began laughing profusely, most of them anyway; some were quite weary of this man called Blade. To the commanding general, Blade’s victory was certainly unimaginable. Blade stood slowly, his sword still at his feet. Greyner held out his hands as the snipers were at the brink of firing. “You think a few dozen archers will accomplish what hundreds of men failed to do?” Blade asked the general. “So you brought two thousand men instead of one.”

“A grander audience,” the general said, wielding his heavy sword. “I’ve been giving out orders for many years now. I think I will enjoy remembering how it feels to slay someone myself… someone as grand as you at that.” Greyner laughed again. Blade looked about at the mass of soldiers. He had never before seen so many men in one place.

“I wish I could tarry,” Blade said, “But I will have to finish you off quickly that I might lend Hercule my strength.”

“It’s impressive how certain you are of your victory even when you’re surrounded by two thousand men.”

“Numbers are meaningless before true strength.” Greyner stared at the cold eyes of Blade.

The king sent two thousand men to fight this one man… After this war, I will be the new U.S.G, and if that bastard dies in the war, I am next in line for supreme general… Why the hell would I even think of challenging that man myself? Greyner reconsidered. My life will be set when this mission is over.

“You die either way,” Blade said, as if seeing his thoughts clearly.

“Archers, fire!” the commander blasted, and in a split second, there was the zinging sound of tens of arrows piercing through the air at malignant speeds, each with the accuracy gained by years (for some, decades) of training. There were cries of death, and the dreadful moment ended. Staggering back with bulging eyes, Greyner looked down at his men, tens of arrows lodged inside him. He fell backward off the Zakatian roof. Tens of the soldiers nearby were already killed, arrows stuck in their foreheads. With a loud roar, the soldiers began scaling the shrine, and more arrows sped up at the Zakatian. Blade grabbed up his sword and uncased it, jumping down from the roof into the sea of Magmalians, killing men before he landed.

***

“Zedra, are you done setting that trap for the wizard? I can’t have anything get in my way of grasping Libson.,” Aragan said.

“Do not worry, my lord. Everything is in place. You will face no interference.”

***

The place was filled up with purple mana again as Viknor reached back. “How are my men?” Giovanni asked, frantically looking through the spyglasses, “Do we yet have the leeway to move out our strike force?”

“Strike force?” Ki asked. Azar was a bit relieved that not even the Prime Minister knew what the supreme general spoke of.

Lord Ki, certainly we must send a team to the Magmalian Tower as soon as possible! How are our numbers, Viknor?!”

“Hard to tell exactly, but we’ve lost a little under a third of our men, and the Magmalians have lost about two fifths of theirs.”

“This is not good!” Giovanni blasted, “We have no choice! We have to attack Aragan’s tower!”

“We don’t even have enough men to defend Hercule!” Ki said.

“Exactly. If we strike Magma Town hard enough then Aragan will call for a retreat! You think Magma Town still has soldiers left there?! This is their entire army we’re up against!”

“Don’t you think he will expect such an attack?! Snipers are now aiming miles from the tower in every direction!”

“I could get you all there in a jiffy,” Viknor said.

“And remember that witch is likely to be there with him too,” Ki said.

“Now that Catherina is dead, no witch can possibly match my strength,” Viknor said. “If that witch is there, it will be to her own demise. As a matter of fact, I alone can do the job at the tower.”

“He and I that is,” Azar said, “If my father must be slain, I shall be the one to slay him.”

“I was hoping it would not come to such a decision,” Ki said.

“I should have killed him before,” Azar said, “Then this bloody war would not have happened.”

“You and Viknor will go then,” Ki said.

“We will not slay the king, young prince,” Giovanni said. “That would be reckless. We will defeat the soldiers there and Viknor will kill the witch. We will capture Aragan and use him to make his men lower their arms and retreat. While they retreat, we will strike and take the whole army out.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Kyle said. “As soon as this is done, we can send Blade all the help he needs!”

“I will go alone and retrieve the king. From there we will deal with the hostage situation. I will better handle the witch and whichever guards present by myself,” Viknor said.

“Take me,” Azar insisted. The old wizard grabbed Aragan’s son, and they disappeared with the appearance of purple mana.

***

With speed and skill that none other from his era could even think to possess, Blade cut down on average a man per second. Their swords, their efforts, their training, whatever will they had, were all useless before the great Blade. The legendary sword sliced through the Magmalians’ feeble tools and bones with ease. “Is this sorcery?! Why can’t we hit him?!” one of the mounted archers gave out. Blade ran his sword cleanly through another soldier’s throat, kicking the severed head that it struck an incoming soldier and gave him a concussion. By the time the headless body hit the ground, eight more deaths were caused by the legendary swordsman.

*POOF!* An appearance of red mana caught Blade’s eyes. “Anam Resal!” a voice called out, and a red beam of pure magical energy rushed toward Blade, tearing carelessly through the bodies of its master’s allies. Blade crouched slightly, then in a flash, escaped the beam entirely. In that same second, Blade’s sword was a millimetre and a third from slicing Zedra. Blade spun again as the witch disappeared. Zedra!! She heard her lord’s voice call in her head. She hissed, then slammed the ground with her palms. I wanted to finish him myself, but this will have to do. “Spirit of Vigour!” she declared, “Cover they who fight for my king! Azakindrea Alkstead! Jhimerish Khaton!” A thick, fluidic body of redness surrounded the woman, then dispersed from her rapidly. The men shielded their faces from the blinding light.

“This energy!” one soldier blasted. The private’s eyes widened as he saw that his allies all wore a slight pink glow about them.

“Now finish him!” Zedra commanded, then vanished in a cloud of mana.

What?! Blade jumped back quickly as a few soldiers darted off at him at unexpected speeds. He landed and skated a bit, jumping again in evasion of quick attacks. “I see.” Blade understood. He smirked a little, knowing that the fight had just begun.

***

*POOF!* Azar looked around in confusion. “Not bad, my lady,” he heard Viknor mutter.

“Where is this place?!” Azar asked, sounding more annoyed of it than fearful. They found themselves in and endless wasteland of skulls and bones, a mist of dust laying just above the ground.

“It seems our dear friend set a little trap for us,” the old wizard said.

“Is this a subdimension we’re shifted into?”

“Basically, yes. This technique requires quite a level of experience to pull off though. This is quite interesting. A special kind of portal was erected about the Magmalian Tower, so any sorcerer who tries to shift to there will end up being transported to this place instead.”

“So who do we get out?!” Azar asked, sounding impatient.

“Well, that would take a few moments. But I doubt our friend plans to sit and watch me undo her spell. She will come here to fight us where the king will not be threatened. It’s a pity she doesn’t know that she cannot win nevertheless.” The place was strange and eerie. There was no sky, only a black roof of emptiness.

***

“I sense they are caught, my king – the wizard and your son.”

“Well go and deal with them. Make sure I don’t have to see either of them again.”

“Consider them dead, my lord,” Zedra said, then made a transdimensional shift, appearing before those she was sent to kill.

"Goodie, just as I was getting bored!” Viknor said, a playful-looking smile on his face.

Azar’s heartbeat suddenly went crazy, and he stared with a tingling fear at the ominously powerful man before him. The man’s face was pale and eerie, and his hair was smooth and silky, about as long as Blade’s. Somehow, this man seemed to resemble death itself. The grim-faced man slowly walked up to the shivering prince. Azar just realized that the witch he was about to confront seemed to be frozen in time, like a high-grade paralysis spell had struck her. Azar tried to turn his head to his right to look at Viknor. He even tried to utter his name, but the nightmarish feeling disabled him completely. He could not break his gaze into Oga’s eyes. Azar felt sweat wash down his face as Oga walked up to him. The man as old as the world’s oldest myths and legends stretched forth his right hand and touched Azar on his shoulder. “My child…”