Death Dealer

The deafening roar of wind, distant pain and the blurred landscape before me began to smother my senses soon after my Grandfather's voice echoed back to me.

Fighting against nausea and pain, I struggled to manipulate Air Pillar after Air Pillar from my fingers and feet to kill my rotation.

Now stabilized, I faced retrograde to quickly scan my surroundings.

"Jesus." I turned. Snorting in disbelief at the magnificence of the western coastline just below me. Ahead, Corvus Tower was but a black blot on the horizon. Appearing as nothing more than a stick planted into the ground; however, coiled around it was an all too familiar sight.

My Grandfather's sky serpent. Poised like a knockoff of the Caduceus for a dreadfully long moment before its tail suddenly flicked. Cuing another bloodcurdling scream to echo to my fragile being. Shaking my very spirit into hastily spawning my Abyssal Armor just before my Grandfather appeared in my face. Screaming madly before his hammer of a fist struck against the mithral plates like a bell.

I slammed against the Mortal Plane like a meteor. Forcing air and ichor from my mouth as the toiling bells reached their crescendo. Signaling a shower of snow and rock to burst from the ground and rain around my falling Grandfather. Accentuating the thunderous boom of his boots banging against the ground.

He crossed the distance with but a single stride to yoke me up by my neck and give me a sneer of dissatisfaction.

Sneering back, I summoned my doppelganger and sort of, threw my armor onto him before funneling death mana into my hands and gripping my Grandfather's wrists.

His sneer turned to an amused grin once retracted my hand. And then from a grin to a frown of annoyance as the loud smacks of my doppelganger's assault began to compete with the slush waves crashing against the coast, far below.

"You can try." Grandpa Lich cackled. Then paused as his head snapped to the side a few times from my Phantom's assault. "But you cannot steal life from a necromancer without their consent.

"Now." He grunted. Effortlessly brushing aside my armored clone before pulling his fist back.

Releasing my grip around his wrist, I gathered the ambient mana in hand and quickly flung it towards his oncoming fist.

The energy expanded the moment it left my hand. Crashing into his arm like a tsunami that explosively burst into a wall of steam or air after making landfall. Mangling and scarring and burning his arm in an instant.

Grandpa Lich's mouth fell in bewilderment for a split second before the cracking continued. His face curled into a grimace as his arm bent and twisted back into shape. Then, he tried again.

I, however, capitalized on that moment to grasp a far larger field of mana and condense it as I would air.

Just as his fist was about to impact with my open palm, a pillar of sparking, dense blue-green and white energy erupted from my hand like a beam. Obliterating my grandfather's arm up to the shoulder before it slammed into the ground with enough force to send soft quakes rolling down the coastline.

I couldn't help but grin as I followed my Grandfather's gaze to plate-sized cigarette cherry glowing on the ground behind him.

Up until the moment, he turned.

I heard a roar. Then, the world tipped. Reality faded from existence for a time. I awoke to find myself on my side. My ribs and organs pancaked between my shoulders. Forcing my body fluids to equalize the pressure inside me is the only way physics would allow; however, that was quickly interrupted. As the world suddenly jarred once again.

Time skipped. Sending me to a moment where I was filled with bilious pain and vertigo. Through my hazed vision, I saw a film of bile coating a black boot. An oversized pointed and spurred boot that was pulling away from my mangled ribs after bringing me eye level with the Necro King. My Great-Grandfather, Everandus Cole. Who was leaning into a punch that I was sure contained more than enough strength to end me.

'Block.'

Not even the word itself could be formed in my fleeting consciousness. Only the concept itself could make its way through the fog in my mind; nevertheless, umbral clouds condensed around my flesh in an instant. Shrouding me in my Abyssal Armor just before my Grandfather made contact.

And so, I flew. Helplessly. Peacefully. Interrupted only by the distant toils of a bell, as my velocity was occasionally slowed by one of the many obstacles littering the landscape until I came to a rest.

"Ugh. This is no fun." I heard a distant grunt not long after, spurring me to act through the numbing pain.

Perhaps in vain, I struggled to use the rest of my strength to summon my doppelganger and shroud him in the armor. After giving far too much effort, I was dropped a few centimeters onto the snow. Unceremoniously delivering the final blow.

***

"It's good to know that you've become accustomed to the pain."

I fluttered my eyes open to see the grayed-out belly of a forest canopy staring back at me.

Without putting much thought behind my actions, I sat upright and found myself holding my belly as if I had a stomachache.

And then it came back to me.

Looking around, we were at the inner edge of the Tower's Dead Zone. A line of broken trees, cracked rocks, and displaced snow stretched for miles and miles behind me. And in front, Grandpa Lich was leaning against a tree. Staring at the colossal structure a few hundred meters away from us. Melancholia bleeding from his eyes like the ambient death mana from his body.

As for me, I was healed, but not healthy. Able to fight, but still plagued by aches and pains throughout my body. That became apparent once I pulled myself to my feet and approached my Grandfather.

"You took far less time than your Father did." He commented over his shoulder. But you still have yet to reach his level."

"Seriously?" I asked in disbelief. "He's that good? I heard he uses needles?"

"Annoyingly so," Grandpa grunted. Looked away from the tower and began stroking his beard. "You may think of your father as helpless, Amun; however, he is anything but. He is quick and efficient. You." He lazily pointed to me. "Are flashy and experimental."

"Aesthetics are important." I shrugged.

"Aesthetics will get you killed." He quipped back. Then gestured to the Tower after assuming the Wrath Form. "Now then, what do you know of crime?"

"Is that rhetorical?" I snorted.

He stayed silent while guiding me through the walls and ground below the train station. and into a wide, curved, and horrendously bland corridor. where he canceled the spell and turned his expectant look in my direction.

"Despite me reading otherwise and seeing no evidence to the contrary," I said. "I'm skeptical that crime in the Empire is virtually nonexistent. Even with your undead lurking in the shadows."

"It prides me that you aren't naive like your counterpart." Grandpa chuckled. Causing a soft, thunder-like rumble to roll down the hall.

'My counter- oh.'I wondered, then mentally slapped my brain a split second after. 'The princess."

"It's true that my undead act as a police force for the Empire. But even then, some still test the waters." His arms spread as we entered a glass-walled lounge filled with rows upon rows of seats that bared both our family crest and what I assumed was the Deapou Families. A massive, black mountain with lava leaking from the crater to settle into the shape of a claymore, standing on edge. "You see, we humans crave violence." Grandpa paused to lean against the glass and peer down with the same look in his eyes as before.

Following his actions, I saw what could only be described as an underground Colosseum.

Far below us, was a 90 by 60 meter, elliptical arena, made of what appeared to be cooled lava. Creating an area of mild rolling plains, littered with stone outcroppings, puddles of water, and several crates of oil. All contained by a 10-meter high wall that served as the foundation for a thick dome of enchantment-studded glass. A barrier, I was sure, for the black marble black-marble bleachers filled with roaring citizens packed shoulder-to-shoulder atop plush, blackwood chairs. And sandwiched between them and the room we were in, was a far longer skybox. Presumably for the countless nobles and other bigwigs in the Empire.

"As much as society tries to convince us otherwise, it's true. It's inescapable. A factor of our blood. It's part of what it means to be human: to have a natural inclination- a natural hunger for violence. Some wish to view it from afar. They passively observe violence in the natural world or read milder descriptions of it in tales of adventure. Or." Grandpa Lich wordlessly gestured to the masses gathered below.

"Others wish to experience it for themselves. They are the ones who go off to join militaries, mercenary companies, and guilds. Regardless of the type, our need for conflict is comparable to our need for sustenance, Amun. The problem is." He sighed. "Society gives us morals. In turn, we make excuses to justify our actions against those morals. Differences in race, class, beliefs, magical ability. Any and everything can and will be used as an excuse to end another's life.

"In places like these, both types of people can satiate their cravings. Here, and in every city in the Empire, are fight clubs, magical tournaments, and in some cases, deathmatches. Here, those who love the fight can prove their mettle. And most importantly." Grandpa turned to lean towards me, a grim and maniacal grin spread across his face. "Death row inmates are given the chance to die with some dignity before a crowd. In this way, we can kill an entire flock of birds with but a single volley."

'That's not how the saying goes, but I get your point.' I sighed under the cover of his boisterous laughter and waited for him to calm down before asking, "I assume I'm to fight here?"

"correct." He quickly nodded. "You are to be the executioner of five. Here are their charges." He threw me a stack of papers.

A stack that I immediately sat on the chair beside me "I only need to know the rules," I said. "Them being after my life is enough reason for me to fight."

Juxtaposed with his prideful grin, was a stern growl that spread from his very core when he turned to me and said. "This is a deathmatch, Amun! The only rule is that you are to be the only one left standing."

"Very well." I peered through the window to study the arena and settle upon a plan.

Once done, I dipped into the Shadowfell and waited for my Grandfather's hand to enter the umbral dimension and give me the thumbs up.

Stepped back into reality, I was greeted by the muffled cacophony of the crowd and the ecstatic voice of an announcer roaring above the domed ceiling.

I tuned out the roar at once and scanned what I could of the arena before the bell rang.

Not spotting anyone, I picked an ambiguous direction and started walking. Waddling across the arena as if I hadn't a care in the world.

It didn't take long for an opponent to approach from my side, screaming like an idiot with a club held out to his side.

Stopping in place, I withdrew mana from my well and pulled it through the entirety of my core before allowing the resulting energy to flood to every fiber of my being. Seemingly forcing the tree-like branches of my magical mark to go through a growth spurt and spread to form a type of second skin.

Much like the club making contact with my back, every molecule of air and bit of stone touching my skin at that moment simply vanished on the spot; or rather, was sent to the void. I began sinking just as my assailant toppled over at my feet; simultaneously, wave after wave of displacing air began cascading towards me. Forcing me to cancel the spell as quickly as I could and step out of the literal hole I'd dug for myself.

By the time I recovered, my assailant was on his knees, scrambling for his weapon.

With death mana in hand and a mind filled with thoughts of adding the unbridled power of his soul to my body, I bounded towards him.

His face curdled with annoyance before his eyes widened with fear. He began to back away. Faster and faster as I came closer and closer and slid to a knee to grasp his face.

My hand hardly fit around his nose and jaw; nevertheless, his body froze the moment my death mana touched him. Unsurprisingly, his body refused to even budge as I tried to lift and pull, despite how relatively scrawny he was.

Though that quickly changed once my death mana had seeped far enough into him.

His skin quickly began paling, wilting and stretching over his bones while the necrotic energy that'd flowed in him took on a blood-red hue before rushing back into me. With it, came the detached essence of my assailant: his very soul. Like a wailing ghost or someone Astral Projecting. Only… angrier. Burning. Raging. Screaming and whispering demands in the back of my consciousness as they flowed into my body. Empowering every fiber of my being. Supercharging every muscle in my body, from the eyelids, down to the heart.

Within seconds, lifting him by the face was an effortless, if not painless, task. Punctuating the last, rasped breath that escaped his lungs as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Unprompted, my grimoire appeared and unfurled its pages to the blank sheets following False Life, and new letters quickly began forming on the left page.

[Burning Souls] - Are stolen souls that have fallen into a state of madness after death. For a time, their unbridled rage can be channeled into you, giving you their strength. 1/5]

[23:59:59]

I let him fall and took a moment to get a feel for the changes that this Burning Soul had granted me, of which there were many.

I felt some distant pain while clenching and unclenching my fists a few times. Both from the latent pain from my earlier beating and my overcharged muscles splitting my bones and tendons apart.

A far better spell than the False Strength my Grandfather suggested.

Eager to test my new spell, I set off to find my next target.

After a few minutes of aimless wandering, I spotted a particularly burly woman with a low cut, hiding behind a stone outcropping with her back to me.

'Perfect.' I grinned. Lunging towards her at once.

The arena seemed to warp towards me after my initial kick off the ground. With my second lunge, came blurred surroundings. And a billowing tempest blew my being with the third. Within mere moments, I was entering close-quarters, kicking off the ground a final time with my arm cocked back.

Up until the moment my fist sprung forth, she stood her ground. Waited, and casually pulled her head aside before lunging away. Grinning back at my arm being shattered against the stone behind her.

A condescending, satisfactory grin that quickly faded turned to horror as she saw me lunging after her. Sweeping my splintered arm across her shoulders and neck with wild abandon.

She fell on the ground without resistance to roll over, screaming and clutching her back like a child receiving a spanking.

Being unwilling to pass up an opening, I swept my splintered bones across her face. Leaving her with a final scar before I activated Leech Hand in my foot, followed by False Life, and waited until my arm hand twisted itself back into its former shape.

I continued leeching life from her until I was back in pristine condition and gave her a final stomp on the nape to finally end her. Nearly sending my foot flying with the shards of bone and clumps of gray matter raining everywhere.

I turned about to search for my next opponent and saw only the light of the sun occupying most of my vision, searing my very flesh.

Without thinking, I released the void and molded the energy into a type of shield around my body. Encapsulating me in a seemingly infinite domain that appeared to expand around me in all directions once it was sealed.

On closer inspection, it felt as if I'd been reduced to an insignificant size within this, Void Egg. Like I'd been placed in the center of an immense, star-less cosmos.

I was on a tiny planet. Staring up in wonder at the arena, splayed across the heavens like moving constellations.

From my front was the cone of fire I'd seen earlier. Dimmed to tolerable levels by the empty expanse surrounding me. I waited, watched, and listened as a few barrels came flying in from my sides. Crashing against the stone to splash the black slippery sludge in a large pool around me.

Akin to the light of the flame, the intensity of the heat and concussive force from the combustion were muted or muffled by the void.

Subconsciously, my lips curled into an amiable grin derived from sheer pleasure.

Seeking more, I gathered shadow mana in my hand and broke through the shell with a swing of an arm as if I were opening a door. Casting out the darkness in my hand and spreading the Flames of Moil across the blazing sheet meant to trap or kill me.

Within seconds, the arena was shocked with a deep chill. Causing the gang of three to hesitate or in some cases, flee after seeing columns of umbral mist rise from the flames and gather on the ceiling as if it were smoke.

'Let's try this again.' I infused my skin, musculature, and skeletal system with shadow mana. Not quite meeting the conditions for Wraith Form; but activating Black Armor, Black Thew(1), and Black Bones respectively, before I lunged at the one who threw fire at me.

Much like the woman from before, he stood in place before jumping aside at the last moment to watch me break my leg against the ground and potentially counter-attack.

I, however, bounced like a tire after kicking the ground where he'd been standing. I rose more than a few meters off the ground before I compartmentalized my shock and made a punching motion with my right hand, manipulating a batch of mana into a flame that was then turned into a torch with the application of an air pillar from my left hand.

The resulting column of blue-white flame screeched through the arena like a dragon's roar aimed at the ground and slammed into the top of his head like a shock wave, forcing him into a squat.

Similarly, the same force was applied to my arm. It acted to halt my descent and threatened to send me flying towards the ceiling, even with the Burning Soul still being active. In an effort to fight against the force, I oriented myself into a handstand position before lowering the output. And slowly, I began to descend towards my target.

My target, who was still staring at me, a sick smile plastered over his face, even as he strained to remain standing under the star-blue shower of plasma raining down on him. Curling his clothes into charred rolls of fabric feet that fell away from his body like a bird's feathers being shed.

I killed the torch and dove towards the ground to deftly roll to my feet just out of range.

He, in turn, took a moment to relax his posture and tilt his head up to actually laugh at my failed attack.

I tried to subdue it, but the heat rose from the depths of my bowls. Before I knew it, my nostrils were flaring, my amiable grin was lost and I found myself lunging forward, grasping a far larger mass of condensed air than I'd otherwise use.

With a final kick off the ground, my anger, or perhaps the soul's rage, reached its peak. And I screamed at the top of my lungs. "Eat shit!"

Due to me misjudging my strength, or from my rage, or perhaps both, I came in far too fast and nearly rammed him like an elephant charging a safari truck. To compensate, I widened the radius of the air cannon to cover his entire body and broke the seal. Triggering a horrendous hiss to blast through the arena. Violently blasting the two of us apart, leaving waves of dust and shattered rock to billow out in our wake.

While I was able to promptly slow my momentum with a web of manipulated mana, my opponent continued arcing across the arena until he tumbled right into an outcropping. Splitting his body into two dissimilar parts that trailed separate ways.

"Dammit," I swore under my breath. Then, my thoughts seemed to drift away from my armor and settle onto something a little more… ghastly.

"Blood." We growled.

I noticed a sudden clarity in my mind as I turned and, almost habitually, gazed up to the cloud of darkness above and cast a shadow bullet into it.

Synonymous with the thoughts echoing in the back of my mind, the mass of umbral smoke began condensing into a massive sphere that soon became riddle with lidless eyes that stared at all points of the arena through elliptical pupils, colored the same white as the script in my grimoire.

It began spasming at once. Darting back and forth to shift the focus of its many eyes to the various points of interest beneath it. Attempting to follow its gaze, I lowered my eyes and immediately detected movement.

Then, I paused.

Through the shadow of a random stone, I saw a bird's eye view of the last two competitors, evidently arguing with each other.

"Death!" We growled- nay, screamed with pleasure at the sight and crouched. Flexing every fiber of our a being in preparations to leap; yet, such energy was wasted, as a column of umbral smoke poured over us in the next instant.

Another wave of clarity washed over me and I found myself falling. Plummeting towards the debating duo at terminal velocity.

Nearly to target, and one of them noticed me. Pointed and screamed before pushing his companion and himself away with a burst of air.

Despite missing my target, I couldn't help but regain my amiable smile as a result of my Black Bones and Skin wondrously absorbing the shock of my landing. Transforming a bit of the energy kinetic of my impact into a stinging pain that stung in the soles of my feet; consequently, the rest of that energy was transformed into elastic potential energy that was subsequently released in the next instant. Rocketing me into the back of the man trying to distance himself.

We split apart just as fast as my shoulder made contact with the center of his shoulder blades, adding the percussive sound of splitting bone and the unholy choirs of horrid screams to the already chaotic ambiance of the arena.

After using mana to once again kill my velocity, I approached the poor soul I violently rear-ended to pick him up by the neck.

After leeching a bit of life from them to relocate my shoulder, I paused to subdue the whispers and finalize a revised version of my most vital spell before opening the floodgates on my death mana.

As his eyes rolled back and the last, rasped breath escaped his lungs, his departing soul took on a slightly green hue before flowing into me, condensing into a pinpoint of light and falling into an orbit around my affinity core.

Cueing more ethereal white lines to morph into place in my grimoire. The book itself seemed to open wider, flattening the pages until the seam in the middle disappeared completely to make the space at the top for a new name, while the name of the spell I just made took its place on the right page.

[Soul Stealer] - Stolen souls can either be stored as Burning Souls, for physical empowerment, or as Aegis Souls, that die in place of yourself.]

[Aegis Souls] - are captured souls that have been met with benevolence and empathy after passing. Allowing you to heal, and even cheat death, until their energy fades.

Following the whispers, we slowly stepped towards the last participant.

He, in turn, remained frozen in place. Undoubtedly terrified from the Flames of Moil still burning and the other inmates strewed about here and there; regardless, he courageously stood his ground with his guard up high. As expected of a man, similar in stature to my Great-Grandfather.

Embracing the energy swelling within me, I sneered at him as my Abyssal Armor shrouded my body.

Then, we both lunged.

Even with my arms coated in spurred plates, he swung with wild abandon. Consequently, my armor was splattered with blood as his attacks were easily blocked and parried again and again until the attacks slowed.

With a final, defiant scream, he pulled back his mangled fist and sent it hurtling right at my neck.

After casually backhanding it away, I grasped his collar with both hands before leaning forward and pulling. Ending the match with a deafening, wet squelch.

Naturally, his body went limp once the front of his skull was shattered; nevertheless, he wasn't quite dead.

Yet.

Even with the Burning Soul still active, the combined weight of this unconscious man and my armor wound up being more than I can bear. So, I hastily infused my gauntlets with death mana and began prying his soul from his body.

An ethereal wail seemed to throb in my mind as the life left his eyes and his soul began to appear above his corpse. And once free, throbbing seemed to intensify. The wailing grew louder and louder as its hand seemed to merge with my gauntlets. Followed by my arms with its arms, my legs with its legs, and so on, until the screams scratched harder at the back of my mind than even the Burning Soul.

It raged and fought back until the very moment that its entire being was assimilated into the armor. Reducing the feral screams to but a whisper in my helmet.

With the armor now powered, a literal weight had been removed from my shoulders. Now, it felt like I wasn't even wearing it at all. Before, the space between my body and the plates was filled with a gelatinous or blubbery membrane of solid shade that both supported the suit and provided a bit of padding; though, I still had to carry the weight.

Now, it was almost as if the membrane were an extension of my muscles. Or rather, like the membrane was filled with the corpse lying in front of me. To put it another way, it felt as if I were the vital organs of some exotic insectoid. Like I was trapped inside a cocoon of umbral muscle and bound in a spurred and horned carapace of mithral.

[Burning Soul: 1/5. 23:59:26.]

My grimoire folded shut and disappeared as I canceled the spell. Only then, did I hear the muffled cheers of the spectators above. Only for them, did I raise my arms triumphantly before stepping into the Shadowfell and taking off my armor.

Arriving in the skybox next to my grandfather a moment later, I saw only a grin mixed with both pride and frustration.

"You put on quite a show. A massacre, really." He patted me on the shoulder, looking through the window. "The crowd is pleased. But, you should've taken more souls.

"What's done is done, though." He sighed, assumed his Wraith Form, and took off through the walls.

"You'll have the chance to get more next weekend," He said as we arrived at the edge of the Tower's Dead Zone and took on his physical form. Inviting me to do much the same. "For now, we continue your education!"

He spread his arms wide as if he were announcing the start of a grand show. A gesture that spread a vast pool of shadow from his feet that quickly grew to span my entire field of view. Coating the powdered forest with a thick, umbral soup that rippled, coalesced, and condensed into a wall of shadow undead.

Thousands upon thousands upon tens of thousands of them. All staring voraciously at me.