Book 3, Chapter 60 - The Third Uncle (1/2)

The Crimson One fused with the roiling tempest to become a behemoth of flame. With his left hand he stopped the attacks from Ravenous Tiger and Blackfiend, while with his right he grabbed Selene’s burning sword. Through his overwhelming power and terrible presence, the Crimson Once instilled a deep fear in all who looked upon him.

The bone armor protecting Blackfiend burned away and the all-pervasive fires devoured what they could. He was sent flying.

Suddenly, the piercing cry of a bird captured the giant’s attention.

A giant phoenix awash in fire came into being, summoned by Selene Cloude. It crashed into the giant’s chest resulting in an explosion that shook the form of the Crimson One hidden within. The bishop’s face was pale, haggard. Blood continuously trickles from his mouth. The injuries he’d suffered were the kind he would never recover from, so the load from Selene’s attacks was almost more than he could bear. The wasteland’s tyrannical holy man was nearing his end.

Its large hand loosened. The blazing crimson sword buried itself in the giant’s form.

As the tip drove toward the waning figure inside, the giant’s left hand swung around to press against the right, palm to palm, with Selene’s crossblade caught between. The sword stopped mere meters from the Crimson One’s body.

Selene’s raven hair danced in the unnatural wind. She heaved against the giant’s grip with all her might, forcing the sword deeper inch by inch. The giant’s malevolent green fires continued to spill toward her, but could not find passage through the dawnlight shell the old man protected her with. The two were caught in a test of mettle, and only the one who could hold out longer would survive.

The Crimson One was incredibly strong – far greater than anyone would have imagined!

A rapid surge of power pulsed through the giant, and with this power Selene’s sword was engulfed and broken apart. The young demonhunter flew helplessly through the air, spitting voluminous blood from her mouth. In the instant the giant was spent, and dispersed. The Crimson One, framed by a sky all aflame, raced for Selene as she fell out of control.

This girl was the only one of this small group who was a threat to his life.

It was a critical moment. The Crimson One had once more managed to protect himself from their concerted attack, but it had cost him. Wounded, drained, he had to destroy at least one of them before they could reconvene for a second attempt. He would not survive another attack like the last one.

“Not good!”

The old man’s eyes went wide and fear painted his face. Selene Cloude was in a fatally dangerous circumstance.

The bishop soared above her, fires gathered in his right arm. He reached out with claws of green fire to snuff out this one beautiful life, and in that moment he caught the girl’s gaze. The priest froze.

Although she stared death in the face, there was no fear in the girl’s eyes. What he saw was an unbreakable will, and iron resolve. It was born from an inherent pride, and the belief that although she faced destruction she would not be defeated. People like her possessed unyielding spirit, and a proud heart like hers would never break.

The image of a figure draped in snow white crossed the bishop’s mind. The look in their eyes was so similar. Their kinship was unmistakable.

The Crimson One had his arm raised to take the girl’s life, but in this moment he hesitated. It less than a second, half a breath, but then suddenly everything changed. His reverie was broken when he sensed a powerful force descend on him, a sense of danger that raced through his body like an electric current.

What power! It had been no less intense than the sword Selene had nearly used to run him through.

The Crimson One’s face stiffened. He couldn’t tell where this attack came from. His four opponents had been knocked away and couldn’t have rallied a counterattack of this intensity so fast. Was there someone else? Another master hiding in the shadows? When the bishop turned his eyes toward the source of the threat, they fell upon a figure he’d neglected up to this point.

Cloudhawk had risen to his feet, with the exorcist bow in his left hand and the bow drawn taught with his right. A light blazed against his chest, infusing him with a hurricane of energy. A spear of coalesced energy was aimed his way.

He could feel it. Cloudhawk’s arrow contained more sheer power than any attack the Crimson One had faced so far. Enough to split mountains, crumble valleys, shatter the sky.

One chance. One shot. Cloudhawk’s opportunity was now.

For all his strength, in this moment the Crimson One was a spent bullet. The four he’d defeated had spent everything within them and were left with nothing. They were helpless and exhausted, incapable of fighting back.

The Crimson One was the same.

Every man had their limit.

It was likely Cloudhawk was worn out as well, yet as the Crimson One and the others warred he had been gathering strength. The bishop’s brief moment of hesitation was a moment too long, and now it was too late.

Cloudhawk’s scream blasted like thunder through the settlement. “Die!”

The string went slack, the arrow loosed.

In the moment the arrow was released Cloudhawk’s exorcist bow shattered. Every once of lethal force it contained sheered the air on its way toward the Crimson One.

Extraordinary… that this young, wounded man could yet produce an attack of this quality. Excellence. Whether the power behind it or the precise timing, it was masterful. The Crimson One could find no flaw in it.

Autumn stared at the Warden in silent astonishment, stunned by the power he had hidden within him.

Nearby, Ravenous Tiger stared in open shock. If the Crimson One survived – a man so dreadful he made his heart race – then he was doomed. But just as it seemed that would be his fate, this arrow from the darkness emerged emerged, poised to save them all.

The old man’s face was lit by the blazing arrow as it streaked past. “Good lad. Well played.”

The Crimson One tried to gather his fires into his hands, yet they withered and died instead. Blood continued to leak from his mouth as truly all his strength was spent. It seemed to happen in slow motion; the arrow reached the bishop, colliding with his tattered robes and ripping through it like a blade. He flew backwards.

Light consumed him.

The world disappeared.