Book 3, Chapter 59 - A Furious Battle (2/2)

Selene poured every crumb of strength left to her into the sword. The burning sword of righteous fire stretched a full ten meters long. [1] While it seemed frail in the face of the hellfire brewing overhead, in truth it held more vigor than a hundred thousand men.

The gourd in Gremlin’s hands had continued to belch black smoke. A dozen skeletons had formed around him, each with tower shields for protection. They were positioned around him, Green Snake and Squall with their shields raised, stoic in the face of the raining flames.

But the Crimson One was too strong. The firestorm he summoned threatened to devour them all.

Gremlin shouted toward Squall. “We must retreat, or we’re going to lose too much. Even if we beat him we won’t be strong enough to defeat the others.”

Squall stared at the dreadful scene, stunned. Was this what real power looked like? He shook his head free of the shock and terror. “It’s too late for any of that. Do you think we’ll be able to run from that?”

Gremlin’s little boy face pinched into a scowl. “What’s your plan?”

Squall grit his teeth. “Not much of one – kill him, whatever it takes!”

Gremlin found his compatriot’s plan reckless and dangerous, but they no longer had an option. He gently patted the gourd, and their small cadre of skeletons began to march toward Blackfiend. Meanwhile the puppet raced toward the center of the forming tempest.

The skeletons all began to fall apart. Their boney remains tumbled along the ground and through the air, affixing themselves to Blackfiend. Piece by piece they reconstructed into an enormous, four-meter tall mountain of bone with Blackfiend at its center. Plumes of dark smoke seethed from the enormous skeleton, and its eyes stared at the Crimson One like twin abyssal pools.

From below, the old man recognized Selene’s posture. She was preparing to throw herself at the bishop, consequences be damned. He jabbed dawnguard toward her and once again she was swathed in radiant light. She burned like the morning sun, encased in a protective shell. The old cripple couldn’t get near enough to the Crimson One to fight directly, but he could do everything in his power to protect the girl.

The storm of power around the bishop grew in intensity. The world around them seemed to buck in protest against the destruction on the horizon.

Meanwhile, Ravenous Tiger was shifting uncomfortably. The old priest had to die right here, right now, or he was finished. The Crimson Church had many eyes and ears in Fishmonger’s Borough, so if the Crimson One survived he would never again know a day of peace. A growl rumbled under the fat man’s breath. He held tight to his ax, stonesplitter, then heaved it with all his might into the ground. A column of yellow, earthy power rumbled through the ground toward the Crimson One in his first direct assault.

The shock wave rolled through, dispelling the fire in its path.

Blackfiend, encased in his bone armor, followed through on the heels of the shock wave to launch his attack. The green fires devoured his flesh and gnawed at the bones, but could not stop his charge.

The old man’s cane continued to shine its light upon Selene, and the girl drew up all her might into a single, ultimate blow.

At last her crimson sword plunged toward its mark. It was as though the pillars of heaven and earth quaked.

Ravenous Tiger, the old man, Blackfiend, Selene… all in the same instant they gave every bit of themselves to see the Crimson One destroyed. The power thrown into this one act was phenomenal. The Crimson One answered their ardor with a hysterical roar, then released his power heedless of his wounds. When the tempest broke, its fires gathered into the form of an enormous, indomitable spirit of fire.

A crushing shockwave, followed by the ferocity of Blackfiend’s attack, hit in the same moment.

From above, the crimson and gold light of Selene’s crossblade came surging down.

An intense contest of power ensued.

This incredible war of godly and demonic proportions cast the wastelander spectators into madness. Their pitiful imaginations were incapable of comprehending the gravity of what they saw. A fight like this was inconceivable outside of ancient legends.

Who would emerge victorious?

Who would fate choose?

1. Someone draw this shit!