A Bored Lich Chapter 316
Advertisement
In a flash the finest magic academy in the Acrin Kingdom had been reduced to a shell of its former self; with piles of cracked stone, splintered desks, and shattered glass littering a maze of collapsed hallways. The sea of white clouds at the base of the building had been pulled into four towering funnels before being scattered by a violent detonation. The pungent stench of blackpowder mixed into the misty air. Shadows darted from cover to cover, hesitating when spells flashed. The echo of metal on bone and flesh would never stop.
"I remember..." Two hands covered Doevm's mouth as soon as he had spoken. He was familiar with both of them.
The small, white hand belonged to Olpi, a half-Elf. She had hidden herself, Menla, and Doevm behind a pile of rock amidst the chaos. Even though memories flooded through Doevm's mind, he could not recall ever seeing her black suit looking so filthy, nor her white, wavy hair being as frayed as it was. Her bright green eyes were wide as she whispered: "Cerlius, I'm glad you're ok but we need to be quiet. I will explain everything later."
The second, darker-skinned hand was much more calloused than the other, and of Dwarven descent. As opposed to Olpi, Menla usually had dirt in her red, curly hair. She seemed more used to the present terror. Her black, beady eyes, which were sunken in her plump face, seemed steadier because of that. "Do you think he saw us?" She whispered to Olpi, who shook her head.
Doevm was patient for all but a few moments. He felt warm sweat forming on the underside of their filthy palms, and pushed their hands away. The last things he remembered were a bright flash and a barrier spell, but he could guess what was happening. The black cloud hanging overhead was a signature among one race and one race only: demons. The Demon King must have begun his assault. 'The demons sack this valley every century, but they have always been consistent about doing so,' he thought. 'Why did they suddenly attack one year earlier than I had anticipated?'
Advertisement
He sat up and tried to bend his legs but there was a problem: he only had one leg. The right leg was fine. The left, on the other hand, had been reduced to a stump. If not for the cauterization just below the knee, he would have bled out. He had barely moved yet he had to clamp a hand over his own mouth to stifle a yelp. It was as if his leg was still on fire. Searing pain caused his world to go white. He keeled over.
Olpi held him down just in case his writhing gave them away. She took a small vial out of her spatial ring after the wave of pain faded: "I'm sure it's confusing. Just drink this and wait until the demon leaves. It's a small sedative to stop the pain." She made sure to press the potion into Doevm's palm, and waited until he nodded before she peaked over the rubble.
Doevm held the potion up towards the light, and smiled as he recognized the symbol of a rose. 'I'm not making this mistake twice. I have work to do, a lot of boring work.'
Even though he didn't drink the potion, he still had enough focus to call upon his life essence and condense the energy around his burned area. He slowed his breathing and focused. New skin grew out and replaced the old. Although the effects of blood loss still made his head throb, at least the pain had lessened. 'Putting the early-assault-question aside for later, I cannot believe I, of all beings, have become so sloppy. I'm out of magic. I lost my leg. How am I supposed to fight like this? It's pathetic. I am pathetic.'
He breathed in and out several times, slowly. Getting worked up would give the group away, so he bottled the rage for later.
Advertisement
'At the start of it all, I thought I could fool Lance and Trenton with a spell, and keep my memories. Who could have known that Maximus… father... had twisted Mage's Shadow with soulmagic? That would be me. I should have known. That's not even the worst part of this all. I should have fought Jackal's accusations. I was so concerned with keeping my head low and following the rules of humans that I forgot who I am. I won't make that mistake again. Jackal has been a thorn in my side for over a month now. I don't care if I have to destroy this very kingdom. That brat dies today.
However, my priorities need to be adjusted now that I know what happened to the sons of Maximus Draken. I've always been a toy to those gods, no matter how strong I become. I knew all along that they were controlling things from behind the scenes. I was naive in thinking I was above them.
I guess it's settled then. The demons will be a nice start. I can't possibly pass up a chance for my own personal force. Wars are how I've always gathered resources, my army of the dead. Next I'll make them march towards Jackal. He and his little resistance will be easy enough. Then I'll get the map.'
A pained voice cried out from the other side of the rubble. Although Doevm couldn't look over the rubble, he recognized the shrill voice of instructor Jersin. He could also sense a spell. "Lance has the key to the map," Jersin said in between his sobs. "That fool, he's heading up from Mage's Shadow along with...three kids?" He seemed to be talking to someone. Doevm guessed the other person must have been a demon.
"Describe them," the demon ordered, and a sudden nausea appeared in Doevm's gut.
"Lance is wearing a green robe. He always makes sure to comb his black hair. You'll recognize him most because of his deformed left arm. There's also two boys and a girl with him."
'...no.'
Advertisement
- In Serial100 Chapters
sHe: THE BATTLE OF THE NEW BREED (BOOK 2)
Since the Tombscradle prisonbreak riot -- the shemale prisoners caused a deadly revolution that led a civil war -- fueled by a firebrand monk of a monastery -- against the world path of women and their dominatrix dominance political system.
8 244 - In Serial7 Chapters
Toothpick
“Hello! My humble audience! I, the Bard of the North, am going to tell you a tale. Nothing new, nothing old. A story of a hero, some may say, others a poor boy who was hated by the world.” The storyteller paused as he waited, right timing was everything when telling a story. Pacing… Too slow and the audience became bored then left without tossing even the smallest of coins. If he spoke too fast and rushed the story. It would leave the audience confused and having no reason to be impressed. So like any good storyteller, the Bard has to do a balancing act of sorts. Not too slow, not too fast. Just perfectly in the middle. “In a shattered country in the south, a novice princeling has the ambition to mend a torn tapestry that is his birthplace. Struggling to fend off those who would usurp the throne in an unending civil war spanning centuries. A mercenary that left only death in his wake, unable to stave off the monotony and peace of life. He looks back at the path laden with bodies, wondering if it was all worth it. Wandering souls summoned by a madman, travel away from a wasteland in a foreign land, the first alone, the others as companions. A deity, ancient in her years, waiting to be freed from a duty she no longer enjoys. For all these people and their stories, none are the hero of this tale. No, the hero is not grand, not wise, not ready.. he was punished for nothing of his doing, who was an outcast that was unloved by many, including his father.” This was always the big reveal novices use to jump off into their story. He did not start here, instead, like any good fishermen, he set the bait and waited until the fish bit before pulling. As he saw the audience's eyes focus, he then started the backstory. The harness, that stopped the listeners from having metaphorical whiplash. The foreshadowing. “But that is not where the story starts. No, not even the hero's birth. Where the story begins, is the boredom of the deity, a deity many know of. She who hunts for the impossible, the guide for those who have lost the path, the Huntress of Mallon--” A small pause, a short breath. “--All old names for a single powerful being that has roamed the grounds of this continent longer than any line of kings or queens, lords or ladies. A being of worship for many an individual…” One last breath. And he began singing the first verse.
8 290 - In Serial95 Chapters
faceclaims.
in which i help you with faceclaims . ( MOSTLY females!) alsooooo check the comments because that's where i put they new @'s at.
8 238 - In Serial63 Chapters
Hope and Memory[Thorin Oakenshield Love Story]
Freya Brandybuck is Bilbo Baggins little cousin and is also his closest friend. She has a big interest in the maps of Middle Earth and hopes to visit some of those places. What will happen when she finds her cousins home infested with Dwarves and a Wizard going on a Quest. Will She have the courage to step foot out of the Shire to see the World?
8 401 - In Serial40 Chapters
End of the World
The world is coming to an end, will Jayden find a way to save his people or will he follow his own desires. This was made just for fun and I don't care what people think about it. If you have suggestions for the story, tell me in the comments and I will try to see if it will work. Parts of the story is also still in developement, so there might be a few changes made. I do not own the picture and if you're the creator of the image and want it removed, you can message me.
8 90 - In Serial32 Chapters
Reality Check (One Piece Fan-Fiction)
requested by @Kyori1097
8 136

