Light

Clovis felt powerless as his mind was once again overcome by fear. His chest felt tight, his breath seemed to catch in his throat as tremors ran through his body. He was trapped in an abyss, and as he gazed deeper in, the fathoms it stretched only seemed to increase. Yet, the abyss felt familiar, almost comfortable, welcoming. Within it he saw a faint light, too far to reach out and grasp, but he had a feeling that with time it would grow closer and closer. One day he would hold that light in his hands.

The battle continued to rage on, and it was becoming clear that the northern ring would soon fall if the tide could not be changed. More and more of the fighting had been pushed within the walls, with a seemingly ever-growing army pouring out from the Rift. If the ring were to fall, the Zone would soon follow.

Reinforcements had begun to trickle out from the Zone as the Guilds amassed their forces. It wouldn't be long before the strongest Gifted would enter the fray.

The gazes slowly began to drift away, freeing Clovis from the fear that had coiled around his heart and mind; the beings slithering back into the depths of the Rift. He fully snapped out of his trance just as a spear flew toward him. He reacted in time to avoid a fatal blow, but the spearhead grazed his cheek as he dodged. If he lost focus again, he would die. He quickly scanned his surroundings, noting where the fighting was most congested, and where the critical breaking points would be. The Gifted within the ring were faring well enough and had even begun to push the army back. His help would be most needed beyond the walls. While the Gifted were powerful, their numbers were limited, and there was no telling the true strength of the army that was bearing down upon them. If they were to survive this, they would have to cut the head off the snake, lest they be crushed under its weight.

The army that poured out of the Rift was made up of Shadow Knights, Imps, and Pale Walkers. Shadow Knights are a form of undead characterized by high magic resistance and dark magic affinity. There are many subclasses of Shadow Knights depending on their weapon mastery. The highest ranking of their kind was revered as the Monarch of Shadows. Imps are a subspecies of Demon that specialize in agility and fire magic. They are relatively weak on their own but tend to thrive in numbers. Pale Walkers are another form of undead that resemble humans in their physical appearance, aside from their remarkably pale skin. They specialize in necromancy and curse magic. High ranking Pale Walkers can obtain a special mutation known as the Cursed Heart, which has allowed them to stand within the upper echelons of the Demonic Army.

Clovis slowly made his way out of the ring, though his path into the wasteland was blocked by the many small skirmishes that had broken out within. He helped where he could, picking off enemies whenever possible and aiding against those that were pushing the soldiers and the Gifted back too far. The number of Shadow Knights had dwindled within the ring, and those that had entered were relatively low in rank. Clovis noticed a similar pattern in the Imps as well. In terms of power, the two sides seemed to be even, however the opposing army only grew larger with each passing moment. Not only were they pouring forth continuously from the Rift, but the Pale Walkers were constantly raising an army of undead. Skeleton Warriors and Mages had begun charging through the gates of the ring, and they would continue to unless the Pale Walkers were killed, or at least interrupted.

It wouldn't take long for the horde of Skeletons to overrun their defenses. Their endless numbers gave them an advantage on top of their resurrection trait that could only be nullified by light magic. Any fallen Skeletons would simply rise again soon after being defeated. High level light magic was complex, and very few Gifted could utilize it. Angels have an innate ability to control light magic, and the most talented could eventually learn holy magic, but very few inhabited Zone 2, and many of the more powerful lived within Zone 1. They would have to hold out until reinforcements could arrive from the other Zones.

Fortunately, as more Gifted joined the battle, their organization also improved. The vanguard cut down as many skeletons as they could, while shield bearers blocked the horde with taunts and barrier spells and skills. In the back lines, the archers whittled away at those forcing their way through the gates, while mages littered the horde with destructive spells. Their progress was impressive, and it seemed as though they were once again gaining traction.

Clovis cut his own path forward. Smashing and hacking his way through the Skeletons that blocked his way. He had sheathed his short sword and had instead picked up a flail and a mace from the fallen Skeletons. Blunt weapons were far better suited for crushing bone. He was making good progress and had almost reached the gate when his progress came to a halt. A Skeleton General had appeared. It was clad in pitch black armor and rode atop a Rotten Mare. It brought with it the eerie stench of death and its immense power could be felt throughout the ring.

It turned its bright red eyes toward Clovis, who was standing amongst a crowd of Skeleton Warriors. With a single wave of its hand, a gap in the horde formed around Clovis and the Skeleton General, leaving them enclosed in a small circle. The message was clear.

Clovis dropped the weapons in his hands and slowly unsheathed his short sword. The Skeleton General followed suit, unsheathing a jagged longsword from the sheathe at its waste.

"Come." It said slowly, in a deep gravelly voice that grated the ears and was designed to induce fear.

Undaunted by his opponent, Clovis dashed forward. He slashed three times. His first was aimed at the Skeleton General's head while the second and third were aimed at its mount. The Skeleton General parried each slash with ease before swiveling in his saddle to slash down at Clovis as he darted past. To dodge the strike Clovis ducked under the Rotten Mare, spinning with his sword as he did to slice through its legs. The slice went cleanly through its hind legs and quickly toppled the Rotten Mare. The Skeleton General jumped off in time to avoid getting crushed under his mount and Clovis used the chance to decapitate the Rotten Mare before it had the chance to recover.

The two circled each other slowly, neither giving an inclination of wanting to make the first move. The Skeleton General watched Clovis wearily. While it was newly summoned, the body and soul that served as its foundation had held significant power during its lifetime. Having lost its mount its caution levels had increased, and the instincts of its foundation were heightened. If Clovis allowed the fight to drag on, the Skeleton General would only become more and more powerful, as it integrated the foundation soul's knowledge and power, so long as it was kept chained by the necromancer.

The stalemate was broken by the Skeleton General. It stabbed its sword into the ground, creating a large fissure that began to travel toward Clovis. As the fissure got closer, shadows began to pour forth from it. The shadows shot toward Clovis like spears, stabbing upward at him from wherever the fissure traveled.

Clovis cut through the shadow spears as best he could, but the sheer number of them would overcome him if he allowed the fissure to continue to grow. He was slowly being pushed into the Skeleton horde that surrounded him, and the more he moved around, the more the fissure fractured and branched out. When he reached the edge of the encirclement, he jumped up and used the head of a nearby Skeleton to launch back toward the center. As he passed over the garish line that had been following him, he realized that the shadow was only present at the front of the fissure and could not attack him unless it was first retracted. He darted forward as soon as he hit the ground, reaching the Skeleton General just before the shadow could reach him. He slashed forward quickly, aiming for the Skeleton General's throat. The slash glanced its shoulder instead as it rolled to the side, removing its sword from the ground as it did. It recovered quickly, counterattacking with a low sweep of its sword as it spun around to face Clovis.

They faced each other for a moment before the Skeleton General bowed its head. "This will be the end." As it spoke it began gathering a massive amount of Aura into the tip of its sword. "Please, grant me a Warrior's death once more."

Clovis said nothing as he watched the Aura coalesce around the Skeleton General's sword. The amount was enough to raze the entire northern ring in a single slash, and yet he sensed no malicious intent in his opponent.

"You were once a great warrior. Maybe you were a General during your time, maybe an adventurer, or maybe even just a nameless Gifted lost during humanity's greatest struggle. It matters not for your soul is pure and so I shall grant you your final wish." Clovis spoke softly, his words quiet enough to be drowned out by the wind alone. He bowed deeply before sheathing his sword at his waist.

The Skeleton General flashed forward, its sword shattering as the wave of Aura erupted into a slash that enveloped the entire ring.

Everything was quiet as the dust settled, and yet nothing had been disturbed by the calamitous slash. Not the Skeleton horde nor those defending the ring. The only effect could be found within a small encirclement at the outer edge of the ring, just before the gate.

Clovis stood alone in the empty circle, his hand outstretched before him, the Skeleton General's skull slowly disintegrating in his grasp.