Chapter Fifty-Three: The End Of A Long Battle

The world stopped in its tracks, as the smell of rotting flesh traveled throughout the battlefield. Thousands of corpses could be seen withering right before the survivors' eyes.

The smell was overpowering and even made the peak tier one orc freeze in place. The hard fought battle that lasted thirty minutes, between Lenart, Harold and the orc came to an end just like that.

Rotting flesh became weightless and began floating, slowly being carried by the wind to an unconscious Jasmine. One by one the flesh merged with her wide open body; hundreds of corpses had become part of her.

Her beautiful appearance morphed. Her silky smooth skin became ragged and wrinkly, some parts even turning slightly greenish. Her hair withering and falling off, with small gray strands of hair remaining. One by one her limbs twitched, until she gained consciousness.

When Jasmine woke up, an agonized scream, raspy and dry, escaped her mouth. It was filled with endless fear and anger.

Next to Jasmine, thousands of different bones had gathered in a pile. Upon her scream it started shining; a blue flame was born from within and a figure quickly took shape.

A giant skull was quickly formed, covered by a blueish cold flame. Eye sockets were created on the head, as the blue flame increased in intensity inside the sockets, making them look like eyes. Two horns formed at the top of the skull, as its upper head became a torch for the blue flame, burning bright. Two tusks were made on the skinless lips, above the jaw. Somehow it had teeths, made out of sharp bones. Below the skull the flame burned intensely, almost like the fire was two wings, it split in the middle. Everything but the skull's face was covered in the blue flame, making it visible from miles away.

'What in the name of god is that' Jantyr thought, before realizing he was asking himself that question.

…

The orc, who had been silent until now started moving, not to kill, or decimate the enemy. No, it had keen instincts and it wanted nothing to do with that floating skull. 'Scullvoll' the orc thought. It was consumed by fear, knowing exactly what they were capable of, first hand.

Without looking back, the orc started running the opposite direction, its memories of the past fleeting through its mind.

~Pov Jasmine~ (First Person)

It hurts, please help me. It's so cold, warmth, give me warmth. Where am I, why is it so dark, why does it hurt so much? I felt my flesh freeze, a feeling I was too familiar with. Many of my nightmares of the past had been dying of the cold. An indifferent, slow death.

I laid in wait, knowing the next nightmare would soon come, but it never did. I only grew colder with each passing second, as I felt the pain follow pursuit. Nothing new, but nonetheless annoying.

"Wake up, Jasmine Marth, The Weather Forecast Witch." I heard. It echoed in my mind, gently stirring me in my sleep-like state. With each passing second it grew stronger, louder, until I finally felt myself jolt awake

"Aghh" I groaned, as I moved. My whole body was screaming at me, denying my actions. I felt the wind soothinging my body. But there was one problem, it hurt. The wind's careful grace hurt.

Knowing something was wrong I forced my eyes open. Above me was the blue sky. It was void of any clouds and simply bathed the world in the lights of the sun. The warm sun rays hit me, yet I felt no warmth, only cold.

Slowly I brought one of my hands into view, with force. It was pale, almost no skin, with grayish and green flesh. "What the" I said, only to get interrupted.

"It's a pleasure meeting you Jasmine Marth, I am Earl Asheton, your loyal Scullvoll, given to you after succeeding the trial!" a gigantic skull, on flames said, hovering above me.

The thing calling itself Earl Asheton frightened me! I had seen his kind before, when I was in the ruins. They were always tier one or above, some even reaching tier four. This one however, was nothing compared to them. Just like me it was weak, mediocre at best.

My ears rang, as I suddenly heard a loud sound. It sounded like an explosion, but there was no fierce fire, or powerful wind blowing me away. Instead a cloud of dirt took to the air around me; later disappearing in the wind, revealing Lenart.

He looked sad, almost depressed. He seemed I'll, like he was about to puke, but even more, he was completely naked, skin wise. He had no skin on his body, revealing his reddish flesh to the world.

"Jasmine, what happened to you?" Lenart asked, suddenly standing between me and Earl, his spear raised at the flying skull.

"Calm down, he's a friend!" I assured him.

Gathering some strength, I tried to stand up. My arms howled in pain, as I put pressure on them to support my body. Thankfully, I somehow managed to condense enough strength into my frail arms to support my legs, and stand up.

My wobbly legs got Lenart's full attention; going so far as to turn his back on the skull to pick me up. Something I wanted to protest against, he was in an even worse state than me.

"We'll talk later, the battle is won! Let's just rest for now!" Lenart said, sending a death glare at Earl and running off. The feeling of the wind colliding with my skin was numb, almost that is, if one ignored the terrible pain it brought along.

"Sir, with all due respect, Lady Jasmine is in her weakest state right now and needs to lay still, not move at ridiculous speeds towards a destroyed city!" the skull said. It was casually keeping up with Lenart, leisurely floating next to us.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Lenart asked. His voice was rough and exhausted. He came off as threatening, but Earl didn't seem offended for what I could tell.

"We need to burn her in the flame from the Kingdom Of Undeath. Disintegrating her mortal flesh, for her to become a true lich!"