Dreams of Slaughter pt. 1
While Tessa spoke with Tepmin, Damien awoke in a strange place. His body felt... Different. He was bigger, stronger, powerful beyond his comprehension. He could feel it emanating from him. An aura so potent he felt he could touch it. He stood up shocked at how far the ground was when his feet were touching it.
He stood about 6'7 now "not as tall as that giant of a man" he thought to himself. He felt a slight breeze caressing his skin. And realize he was just wearing a pair of cloth like baggy pants. Those befitting of a warrior. He was standing in a small crater at the top of a mountain as if he had been tossed from the skies. His muscles rolled, his body hard like steel. He noticed his hair was long. Sleek black mingled with a blood red and came down in a viking braid down his back. He had stubble on his face, the start of a full beard. His jaw was solid like that of a knowledged fighter. He was looking down at his hands, they were hiding immense power. His veins snaking up his arms.
He looked up and out over the horizon. He saw an army as far as they eye could see hundreds of thousands of soldiers. No millions all of them powerful. Beyond them he couldn't see it but he could feel it a pillar of power leading this mass of people. He knew they were meant for him. He looked over his shoulder. Eleven shadows stood at his back. They felt familiar and he knew they would be fighting by his side. One of them was especially close to him his soul resonated with this one. He reached towards it. It took his hand and pointed past him at the vast army and nodded it's head. As if saying it's time to fight. He nodded in reply and turned back to face the enemy.
His eyes glowed as he pointed a finger towards the mass of bodies. A Titanic sized black orb appeared at his fingertip before slowly condensing to the size of a marble. Immediately the first few rows of the army started raising barrier after barrier. Their movements quick and calculated. They were maybe close to 60km down the mountain. Giving them a good foothold of preparation. It wasn't enough. He released the the ball. It reached them in an instant appearing before the first layer of thousands of barriers. Barreling past it as if a bullet through a sheet of paper. It continued like this through 1, 10, 100, 1000, all of the barriers and hitting at a mass behind the front lines.
Every soldier who put a barrier up either died or passed out. The weaker ones souls couldn't withstand the pressure of the attack and exploded from the inside out their shattered bones shooting out like shrapnel hitting their fellow man. The unlucky ones who survived had their souls fractured and dropped to the ground like sacks of potatoes. Never to be the same again. The lucky ones passed out from the strain. Some still died from the bodies of their brethren exploding next to them. Thousands died in the frontlines without being touched by Damiens attack.
The most damage; however, lay where his shadow orb has touched about 40km past the front where it imploded in the center of the formation, you could watch as it exploded a bright luminescent purple light flashing out for 20km in every direction before sucking back in and sending a darkness out all the way to the front again. Everything it touched was sucked dry of life, leaving hollowed corpses in place of strong bodied men.
He watched the massacre with a small smile on his face before launching himself off the mountain. The crater he was standing in tripling in size. As he flew through the air dual blades of darkness materialized in his hands. He reached the army in a flash his blades flashing around him. His body ducking and dodging attacks as he became a whirlwind of dark death in the endless horde to his front and back. Within moments nobody within half a kilometer of him was alive.
He looked up to the mountain and roared. His cry so loud that it shattered the eardrums of anyone within a kilometer. His eleven shadows came flying down the mountain no slower than he to reap lives across the battlefield. Each using their own strengths. Flames, lightning, nature, light, poison, their power almost on par with his own. He kept fighting killing his way towards the pillar of power at the back of the army. The ground was slick with blood, the crunching of bones the sick sound of slicing flesh, and the cries and screams of broken and dying men surrounded him. He basked in it.
"I'm coming for you whoever you are he thought" his gaze once again piercing the wall of soldiers to look towards the pillar of power he felt. "I'll be taking your soul."