The arena of retribution: Mortis' last dance with the puppeteer

In that moment of calm, when Mortis felt what had really been done to his body and that he had almost collapsed under the weight, his body full of cracks under his clothes, as if he had almost been torn apart by the flowing force, he saw some feathers not quite finding their target and simply falling to the ground. A feather floated before his eyes, and he reached forward to catch it. His eyes rested on this silvery feather, created by the power of divinity, bringing back memories of past conversations and events.

Suddenly he thought of a woman who had supposedly seen his silver eyes before, of warriors disappearing through a similar feather, heralding disaster. Although he had always suppressed this person, the name Gilles came to his mind - someone who constantly wanted his scythe and apparently grew stronger the more he suppressed Osmirnis. Could it be that this someone was a true Reaper and still had a connection to Mother, but had actually broken away from her and joined the living? One thing was certain: they had something in common, except that his glow had long since faded. "I'll see you someday," Mortis thought, absorbing the feather, which was supposed to heal others on the outside, but there were still cracks under his robes, as if the divinity was leaking out and his body was barely holding that power in check.

Right now he was more fragile than he had been in a long time, whether physically or in his mental state - both were far from healthy. Nevertheless, he didn't let on and watched proudly as his friends, soldiers and allies brought down monsters and pushed forward with their will. He too would have liked to keep up with the front, but there was nothing left for him but to play tricks, as he was simply exhausted.

The explosion on the other side of the city caught Mortis' attention, and the screams and sounds of battle permeated the air, accompanied by the growing panic. Mortis tried to run, but he felt pain everywhere, his muscles cramped and he could barely stay on his feet. Nostalgically, he remembered the time when he was given this body, a body of a cripple, barely able to walk, let alone swing his scythe properly. Yet he had managed to emerge from that battle alive.

At that moment, he realized that no matter what would befall him again and what state he might fall into, he could not stop moving and saving the people and the living. He hated to admit it, but he enjoyed this life, his women and his friends. So he rushed forward faster and faster, even if it looked unhealthy as his back, chest and shoulders ached. But he would win this battle too, bring joy and herald the peace of the dead. Even when his body was shattering, it was always the battle that kept him from becoming peaceful, capturing his thoughts even when he mostly blocked them and feelings out.

Arriving at the eastern gate, Mortis watched as wild magical beasts stormed the gate, accompanied by monsters and demons who saw the opportunity to plan an ambush. At the forefront was a man with raven-black hair, surrounded by human-sized puppets armed with various weapons. The puppeteer noticed Mortis and his gaze turned icy cold. It seemed as if he knew Mortis and was not well-disposed towards him. Although Mortis did not remember ever seeing this man, the hatred in his gaze was not feigned. Mortis could literally feel the murderous lust that was directed at him. It confused him, but he didn't have time to worry about a single person. The enemy was in the city, and he had to make sure that enemy disappeared before more civilians and innocents suffered. Mortis gripped his scythe tightly, even though it pained him. He would not allow anyone else to enter the city and would eliminate any enemy.

Mortis ran towards his enemies, especially the puppeteer. With his scythe raised, he rushed forward, even though it looked as if he would stagger and fall. Mortis ran towards the puppeteer, who was confused but alert. The puppeteer thought that Mortis' seemingly sickly and almost drunken running style was a trick. Therefore, he became cautious and jumped back. At the same time, he sent his puppets at Mortis with swords and other melee weapons, while other puppets fired bolts and arrows at him. A chaotic melee ensued between Mortis and the dangerous puppets controlled by the puppeteer.

Mortis was able to react and parry quickly, but every movement almost made him scream. Nevertheless, he didn't show any weakness. He knew such a state well, and if nothing else helped, it was the simplest of moves and tricks that did the trick. Remembering his early days, he held his scythe tightly and swung it in such a way that it didn't hurt. He jumped into his opponents while activating the scythe whirl. In this way, he cut through several targets with the power of the swing. After the fifth hit, the opponents immediately fell over and were smashed to pieces.

Even if he now lacked elegance and single combat, there were more important things for him than stroking his ego. He leapt through the enemy ranks, getting closer and closer to the puppeteer. It was like a buzz saw circling its target, destroying everything in its path.

The puppeteer saw his dark monsters and demons, with whom he had allied himself, falling further and further prey to this mad king, and so he became enraged. "I am your enemy! Or are you afraid to face me? Come to me!" roared the puppeteer, whose retinue was being destroyed faster and faster, as if Mortis were playing with him.

But Mortis laughed and said: "You're my opponent? Don't make a fool of yourself, you worm. I don't even know who you are. No! All those who dare to hurt innocent people and cause chaos are my opponents. But I only save you to see the despair on your face when you realize that your demons and monsters lead to nothing but your death - you who have betrayed the humans and thus his equals."

"Betrayal? I was the one who was betrayed, even though I did everything for the empire and the emperor, always thinking only of our welfare. But when you made my plan transparent and beat the emperor in a duel, his hatred for me grew. I lost my title, my reputation and was branded an enemy. But what was taken from me, I will get back today!" roared the puppeteer and created two huge puppets from his mana that were supposed to trample everything.

But as soon as they were created and lifted the first leg, Sarah and Mino appeared and took them over. The two ghosts and Marshal would never leave their master's side, no matter what. With the doll bodies this size, they surprised again and showed that they were loyal servants who could now think for themselves.

"That's my magic, what's going on?" the puppeteer yelled desperately as he dodged the first stomp from the ghosts. Mortis laughed evilly and said, "It seems you're not the only one who likes to play with dolls. My ghosts wanted to too. So why don't you be kind enough to play with them while I'm still busy with the other monsters?"

Even though Mortis spoke victoriously, his pain grew worse, his breathing heavier and cold sweat formed on his forehead. When Mino and Sarah jumped onto the puppeteer in puppet form, the ground shook and the group landed with the puppeteer and numerous enemies in a secret arena under the city gate. The chaos was perfect. When Mortis saw where he was and the puppeteer stood before him, eyes wide, Mortis realized who stood before him. The situation seemed to echo their first encounter in an entertaining way, and it would end in an arena.

Mortis straightened up once more and said, "So, Blood Count, or as you called yourself it seems, an arena is your grave. But I thank you for this fight, it was truly enjoyable. But everything will end one day, including your feud and your life." The puppeteer generated projectiles and drew on his last mana to hold the staggering warrior off him. But even when Mortis took hits, he kept charging towards the former count and finally reached him. He decapitated the traitor with his last ounce of strength.

The monsters were still raging, but the beasts, as if they had been freed and not surrendered to their fate, fled as the leader of the monsters died. It seemed as if they had also been freed from a spell. Mortis, who had done his work, did not care. The only thing that still appealed to him was to sit down and rest. So he sauntered off, into a dark corner where he could barely hold on to his scythe. His three spirits sat down in front of him for protection, while Mortis sat down and held his chest.

However, when the monsters and demons saw the butcher's weakness, they were emboldened to at least vanquish this enemy. They charged wildly towards him. But as soon as they took a few steps, blue sparks of mana appeared in front of them. They exploded on contact and killed the creatures in a gruesome manner. The survivors saw a young man in a blue robe floating down the rubble while the mana raged menacingly around him.