Axer

"So many Wraiths…." Royce froze atop his steed, stunned.

Even during the subjugation of Sobek, we never encountered this many. Axer snarled. There are nearly a hundred of them.

Wraiths formed from the spirits of humans. For a Wraith to form, they either had to have a desire so strong their souls couldn't pass on peacefully to the afterlife or the souls of multiple humans with lower desires combined– usually ten humans, sometimes twenty for the strongest Wraiths.

Each Wraith had the battle prowess of an elite knight thanks to their speed, strength, and ability to frequently become ethereal for very short amounts of time. Of course, Axer's Lunar Knights were the crème of the crop, far above elite knights.

But why aren't they moving?

The Wraiths simply floated in place, their ethereal hoods covering their head and wispy, skeletal-shaped hands limp by their sides. The coherent screams of words had long since died off, replaced by eerie moaning as if suffering from nightmares.

It was unusual for Wraiths to act like this, as they tended to violently attack anything living. Their frozen, floating appearances but eerie moans almost looked like…they were awaiting orders?

"Welcome, Lunar Knights."

A soft, pleasant-to-the-ears voice boomed across the valley, echoing off the mountain walls. The Wraith's eerie moans ceased, and they fixed their crooked appearances, their menacing eyes locked upon Axer and his knights. And then, the sky moved.

Dark tendrils emanating blood-red energy broke out in the sky like the roots of a tree. They surrounded a black oval-shaped pool of darkness, far darker than anything Axer had ever seen before. It pulsed once, then twice, then again and again with growing speed like a rapidly beating heart. Then, something stepped out.

It wore a black robe, exposed at the chest to reveal a star engraved onto its muscular, ashen-white chest. Its arms and legs were lanky but toned with visible muscle as if nothing more than skin, muscles, and bones. Yet its hands didn't seem bony but sharp and ferocious, proportioned like miniature blades. Like Axer, it had long, upper-back-length hair tied in a ponytail. But its face truly marked him as the leader of the horrific Wraiths.

His blood-red pupils scanned the knights below with a smile full of apathy and boredom. He was beautiful in a sickly, terrifying way that seemed to pull anything into its grasp. He held a terrifying, quadruple-pronged scythe that screamed like the Wraiths, but instead of screams of mercy, it screamed for death.

"I've been waiting, Axer Vasilios." He smiled, emanating the scent of fresh blood so palpable it suffocated the air.

"So it was you who attacked Braedon Town." Axer narrowed his eyes dangerously. "The Disciples…"

"…are my disciples." He smiled. "One cannot be a disciple without a master, after all. I am the one fulfilling that role of master."

"Why are we still talking to this demon? Let's attack and grind him to paste!" Dunstan roared like a mad beast, his bloodshot eyes begging Axer to give the command.

Patience, Dunstan. Your desire for vengeance will be fulfilled. Axer conveyed with his eyes. He turned back to the man – if he could be called one – suppressing his rage.

"You're the one in control of these Wraiths?"

"Only through great effort could I create these wondrously powerful beings."

"How many innocents had to die for their creation?" Axer sneered as his steed took soft strides forward.

"Innocents? I only purged this world of sinners." The man's eyes gracefully twisted his free hand in the air.

"What sin did they commit for them to be massacred?" His rage grew the more he looked at the man's figure.

"It's simple, really." The man's eyes brightened. "They committed the heinous sin of weakness!"

"You killed them because they were weak?" Axer drew his glaive as a wave of flames enveloped it, its blazing flames channeling his boiling wrath.

"For preciseness, I must correct you." The man shook his head with a sad smile. "To be weak is in and of itself not a sin, for everything in existence begins weak." But then he sneered with contempt.

"What truly constitutes a sin is the refusal to erase weakness. Their lethargy to become strong due to the protection from the strong has made their minds sluggish and weak. There is no need for such beings to roam the world." His lips curled in a smile devoid of the contempt they had once shown. "They serve a better purpose as Wraiths. With their sins washed, they can pass to the afterlife with ease. In this way, I am their savior, am I not?"

"Sickening bastard." Axer sneered. "There is no need for you to live. Accept your death with ease."

"It's quite unfortunate, Axer Vasilios, that I cannot fulfill your wishes." The man floated forward. As he did, the oval-shaped darkness behind him shrank to nothingness.

"Then what is there left to say?" Axer roared. "Attack!"

A charge of dozens of knights met the stampede of twice as many Wraiths. Axer led the vanguard, his glaive and eyes never straying from the man.

"HAA!" He roared as his flame-lined blade cut through the first Wraith like a hot knife through butter. It shrieked in agony, dissolving in a plume of gray dust.

The rest of his knights made contact, and the sounds of ferocious battle lit up the air. Clangs of swords hitting the hardened bodies of the Wraiths and screams of pain from both sides were accompanied by the occasional horrific scream of a Wraith losing its life.

The knights fought in a clearly defined, regulated battle style that enhanced their strength greatly. Like an iron bull, they charged, but the sheer number of Wraiths stopped them in their tracks.

"Split!"

The knights instantly disengaged, splitting into individual, one versus two battles against the Wraiths. This was even worse for the Wraiths, as the Lunar Knights suppressed them heavily despite being outnumbered two to one – a testament to their battle prowess.

"My beloved creations, they cannot be destroyed." The man grinned. Dark energy swirled behind him. Nightmare-inducing screams and ghoulish figures emerged behind him, flashing in and out of existence.

"How long I've waited to engage in a proper battle, Axer Vasilios!" The man cackled demonically as he shot down like a meteorite, aimed at Axer. Axer leapt from his steed, glaive in hand, meeting the man's outstretched scythe halfway in the air.

Dark energy clashed with smoldering rays of flame. Screams and figures of ghouls filled the air, a cacophony of horror and violence. The uncontrollable energy generated by the clash exploded, sending Axer and the man flying back.

Axer backflipped multiple times until he was steady on his feet. On the other hand, the man instantly stopped in the air, having let himself roll as if with no inclination to stop it.

BOOM!

The ground cracked under Axer as he leapt forward. The man dodged and attacked with his scythe, but Axer ducked and kicked at the man's feet. The man, mid-swing, executed the most unhuman turn Axer had ever seen to hack at his neck. Realizing he had no other option, Axer grabbed the black scythe with his bare hands, and instantly, the most horrific nightmare he never wanted to see again plagued his mind.

Their faces – blackened, charred beyond recognition – and their bodies – so sickeningly, indescribably ruined – filled his vision. A village burned bright like the advent of hell, which it very much was for the young Axer kneeling over their bodies.

"Mother! Father!" The young Axer cried as the present one watched from behind. The real Axer froze, trembling. No…not again…. The very thing he never wanted to remember appeared brighter and clearer than before. No…no…no…!

"STOP!" Axer roared, his mind clearing. A fire had enveloped his arm, breaking him from the nightmare, but he screamed in agony. The scent of burning flesh permeated the air. It hurt so much, so terribly, but Axer bore through it with sheer will. The man leaped back, this time with graceful backflips, readying his scythe when he landed.

Axer succeeded in the attack, as blackened burns lined the man's chest and arms like spots and stripes on a jaguar.

"Good! Very good!" Contrary to what Axer expected, the man didn't become angry. He seemed even happier than he was a few minutes prior when the battle started. "The stronger you are, the more delicious your blood will taste!"

"It'll be me who drinks your blood first." Axer hissed.

"It's quite rude of me, actually, that I never introduced myself." The man sighed as he burst forward. "Hear my name, Axer Vasilios – Bloodstar!"

"I have no need to hear your sickening name!"

Axer retaliated, and so began a ferocious battle, a bloody dance of vengeance and laughter. Axer's glaive danced through the air, trails of fire left in its wake. His fighting style encompassed the way of a calm heart, clean, precise, but deadly. Occasionally, his movement would waver, and the bloodlust of a barbarian would leak through, accompanying the graceful dance.

But Bloodstar's fighting couldn't be any more different from Axer's. He commanded clear form despite the heavy blade not being optimized for battle. His strikes contained the power of horror itself, generating screams and phantoms of ghosts with each. His battle prowess was frightening – practically the same as Axer's despite his skinny frame!

{KILL!}

Axer's grace vanished. His sword reveled in the battle.

{KILL!}

He needed to die!

{KILL!}

Death!

Axer's green, scaly leg stamped the ground, sending a rippling shockwave. His khopesh of pure fire slashed the empty air, and dozens of flaming waves filled the sky like lanterns lighting the night.

Bloodstar dodged and weaved with the grace that Axer lost. The ground was peppered in lines of scorch marks inches deep. Nicks and cuts covered Bloodstar's pale countenance, but Axer was in a similar condition.

Blood seeped from the edge of his snout, staining his razor-sharp teeth red. Axer's clawed hands clutched their weapons – khopesh in his left, glaive in his right – as flames radiated from his crocodilian body. An atef crown with a star symbol in its center replaced his luscious, long hair.

"Sobek, my beloved!" Bloodstar smiled, spitting blood to his side.

{KILL!}

Axer lunged, his blades singing the air. He missed Bloodstar, his strike slashing the ground as he landed with a titanic, valley-shaking stomp. A gaping, burning slash marked the ground.

"Nightmare fuel." Bloodstar whispered as he emitted dark tendrils of energy from all over his body. Suddenly, the area dimmed. All the light mana in the area was being sucked into Bloodstar's outstretched scythe, pooling into a black ball. Soon, the fires "disappeared," but Axer could feel their heat clearer than rough sandpaper. The flames had gone invisible!

"May your dreams be cruel."

The ball detonated with a shriek and pulse. The instant it hit Axer, he descended into a nightmare.

The same burning village appeared before his eyes, his parents' charred corpses lying on the ground.

"Brother!" The young Axer screamed in every direction, trying to locate his younger brother. But no matter his screams, no matter the guttural horror echoing from his voice, no one responded. Sobbing and screaming was what he had been reduced to, but this time, Axer himself was the young Axer, reliving the memory as he had experienced it a decade ago.

No one had survived. Everyone had been slaughtered, reduced to primordial ash that covered the ruins. His parents were lucky – at least they had a full corpse. It was only he that had survived the massacre.

Not…a…gain!

Axer roared to the sky. He clutched his head, staring deep into the corpse of his mother. Her horrific screams and sudden silence replayed in his mind, again and again, until something in him snapped.

{KILL THEM ALL!}

"Yes…let's kill them all!" His guttural, demonic voice resonated across the valley.

{BURN!}

Kill!

{BURN!}

Kill!

{BURN!}

Kill!

"He's losing control!"

"He's getting away!"

"Ignore them and suppress the lord!"

"Captain!"

"Sire!"

"Camdyn, do it!"

"I'm on it!"

The ground rumbled. Pillars of sublimating ice rose like a hand digging out of a grave, trapping Axer in its cruel embrace. The ground froze over, closed off by the pillars. The frost crawled up his leg, locking him in place. But no sooner had his legs froze did smoldering flames melt the ice away. The ground scorched, and a blazing inferno surrounded his body.

"Forgive me, sir!"

Hundreds of icy tentacles extended from the pillars. Their ends sharp and twisted like cruel drills, they endlessly stabbed at Axer. He dodged and weaved what he could, but there were simply too many. For everyone he destroyed, five more took their place like a hydra.

{KILL!}

The guttural, demonic voice repeatedly screamed in his head. He would follow its orders, cutting through everything that lived.

"AGGHH!" Axer roared as a tentacle stabbed through his arm. Frost immediately grew from the wound, but his flames melted them away, eating away at the tentacle. His extraordinary healing ability healed his wound at a visible rate, but before Axer could react any further, dozens of tentacles stabbed him until he was like a porcupine. Excruciating pain ran through him, and his roars echoed across the night.

CRAAACK!

The towering pillars suddenly cracked. Instantly, they broke into giant shards of ice, falling toward Axer. He instinctively covered his face, but he eventually succumbed to the onslaught. His final thought was the face of one particular beautiful, lovely, and mesmerizing woman before everything faded to black.

Indu…