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The Magical Path To Death

Alya has lost her past. She has big goals, but with every step she makes she turns into a new person. No matter how she acts, half of the world will always stay her enemy. Her unholy powers combined with optimistic friendliness may be the only hope. "You must be the one they call the devil's bride" "What?"

toldthem · perkotaan
Peringkat tidak cukup
26 Chs

Baseless

Small shadows flew into the defending revolutionaries. One after the other, they fell to the ground, screaming in pain. The ones who where still standing carried the bodies back towards the houses.

"Get back!" Han screamed.

They fled back into the hamlet, a few were hit in the backs and fell. Alya, who had already been further back, rolled behind the small smithy. Some others limped behind her cover, but the arrow fire had already stopped.

"Save your arrows! We are going in!" Shouts echoed from the woods. A second later, dozens of men came running out of the treeline into the dimly lit field in front of the palisades. They wore iron armor and carried steel weapons, a few held torches while running.

"For the King!"

Suddenly, one of them fell to the ground, instantly followed by another.

Talon, the guard of copper key Han, was summoning large icicles out of thin air and shot them into the crowd ahead.

Karl watched a few of his men drop, "Archers, shoot him for god's sake!" A small group of his men stopped to take out their bows again. When they started drawing arrows out of their quivers, the mage turned and ran into the small house behind him. To Karl's surprise, one of the archers fell to the ground with a cry of pain. An arrow stuck in his side.

Frantically, Karl scanned the Hamlet, but he could not spot the archer.

"Throw the torches! Now!" The soldiers carrying torches threw them onto the straw roofs, as the rest started ripping and hacking the wooden spikes and barricades out of the way. The men who still carried their bows were getting taken out slowly, the mage cast another wave of icicles from further back as well.

By now, about ten of Karl's men were writhing on the ground, already more than he had expected. He clenched his jaw, before unsheathing his great sword. The time for tactic was over.

Han, watched the enemy troops running past the now useless palisades. He looked towards the people behind him. In the back, women and children sat on the floor, scanning Han's facial expression. Some of them took care of the wounded fighters. The rest stood the in front. Determined, they watched him and waited for orders. For a moment, Han felt a feeling of pride surge threw his body. Goosebumps formed on his skin.

"Let's go." He said in a calm tone, before he lifted his blade and ran out the gate of the barn with a guttural scream. Dozens of men flooded out behind im. Both sides ran at eachother. Han watched their angry eyes beneath their helmets, confident in winning this charge.

Their superior armor would always come out on top here, Han knew they thought the same. Unbeknownst to them, he knew some tricks. Running at the front, Han jumped and came to a stop shortly before the two forces collided. When he landed, he kicked the ground and threw his empty hand forward at the same time.

The dirt shook beneath their feet, it moved and caved in below their steps. A few of them fell, most lost their balance. Right then, the revolutionaries arrived at the immobilized soldiers. Their makeshift weapons hit and cut into the opponents' armor. Only a couple were actually incapacitated, after a moment of regaining their balance, the fight continued.

Over the course of a few seconds, the favor was turned back to Karl's soldiers. He just arrived at the frontline himself and carelessly jumped onto the first enemy, his sword lifted above his head. The man held his pitchfork horizontally to block the swing, but Karl's sword split the wooden shaft down the middle. His sword hacked into the slaves head as Karl landed on the ground. He pulled his sword out and turned to his next target.

Alya watched the chaos from the second story of the larger building, she nocked arrows and shot them into the armored soldiers. Using her spells, she was able to pierce through the chainmail between the plates of armor. A man carrying a greatsword was supposed to be her next target, but his wild and unpredictable movements stopped her from trying, she could only watch him slaughter the people.

Anger blurried her vision, the armored soldiers viciously cut down the barely armed people one by one. Human blood stained their weapons and armor, no thought went across their minds as they continued the onslaught.

A dark, raspy voice whispered from below, "Destroy. Them. All."

Karl faced the man in leather armor who held a shord sword in one hand, "Let's see what you can do." Karl ran forward. With a wide swing, his sword flew towards the slaves' flank.

Han jumped back, the sword passed his stomach by a safe distance. The moment it passed, he pressed his feet back into the dirt and jumped forward, holding his sword on his side.

Karl had expected his opponents movement, he let his sword go with one hand and prepared to block the attack. When the slave showed no sign of swinging his weapon, Karl clenched his hand and threw a punch towards the man's face.

Han ducked below the large gloved hand and held his sword with both hands, its blade pointed to the soldiers' liver covered by chainmail. Right when he started pushing it forward, the soldiers grabbed the blade with his hand.

Karl pushed the slave away from his body using the sword. With one hand, he swung his great sword towards his target again.

Han let his sword go and jumped back once more. As he landed, he kicked the ground and swung his empty hand like before. Quickly after, he followed up by slightly stepping forward and lifting his hand forcefully.

Karl lost his ground when the dirt flowed away beneath his feet, but he felt he could regain his balance. Right then, something hit his side. A sharp pain signaled a deep wound in his waist. He fell to the ground, a long stalactite had erupted from the ground.

"You have only sixteen hours to live, since you only experience life one day at a time. [..] It's just that [...], over and over again. [...] It can be depressing if you don't like those sixteen ours, usually. [...] But there's a silver lining, because changing your entire life is not as big of a feat as you might think it is. Since life is lived in these sixteen hour mini episodes, that's a very managable amount of time to perfect. [...] Because, a good life is just a series of good days."

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