--- Roric

Seeing the necromancer advancing in the middle of the plaza, amidst the chaos of the battle, brought back Roric to when he was trying to save Tolwin, his beloved mentor.

If the old paladin had already lost by when he arrived, in that occasion the boy had learned that even a monster like Rickhart could be stopped, if you had enough power. And now that the chance to protect others from his murderous enemy had come back, he sincerely believed he could do it again.

This battle is not over yet. If I put a good strike into him, I'll force his gaze somewhere else. It went the same way in Norburg, albeit only for a minute. When that guy finds a challenge on the field, he can't resist accepting it.

The main problem, there in Lyngard, was the distance. The young warrior had a clear view of his opponent and the advantage of surprise, but wasn't so sure that his powers could reach that far. Lightning traveled the whole sky until it hit the ground, normally, yet it required a storm just to exist. The one created by an Elemental had to be just like the real deal in order to do the same.

Meanwhile, an ominous orb of light appeared in the necromancer's palm. Black and red reflections rippled its surface. Its bearer smiled with cruelty, licking his lips.

Breathe. Feel your spirit. Tolwin said my kind could achieve feats humans could only dream of, and I decided to embrace that part of me during my training with Barden. I only have to focus it all in one point...

Somehow, Roric knew what to do. His nature was telling him. He joined the index and middle fingers of his right hand, pointing them at Rickhart's charging horse, and pictured the shape he wanted in his mind. Then, he let the energy flow.

The thickest, most focused lightning the boy had ever produced arched in the air. The heat of the moment messed with his aim a bit, but he managed to nail the mount in the shoulder. Its pale, lifeless flesh burned and burst out, the explosion flinging the rider in the opposite direction. All the surrounding Barbarians, even those who weren't undead, stopped moving and turned their heads towards Roric, who was still standing on the terrace with his legs wide apart, and a stunned expression on his face.

A thunder echoed in Lyngard, making every nearby window tremble.

Like that! It went better than... Ugh!

The young warrior stumbled on the balcony, using a column to keep his balance. His sight went blurry, his head ached, but a little less intensely than the previous times. Panting, he endured the pain. He was starting to get used to it.

I... I need to get down there. No way he was killed this easily.

Still a bit dizzy because of his recent effort, Roric forced his legs to take the stairs and readied the sword before leaving the building. Then he sprinted towards the lines of the defenders, taking advantage of the momentary halt in the assault. From the corner of his eye, however, he spotted a movement near the collapsed horse.

He's alive, as I thought. Now, let's get these people away from the plaza and-

Instinctively, with a speed that even surprised him, the boy slid on the ground and dodged a magic projectile. It looked rather similar to the one Rickhart was preparing just a couple of seconds before being knocked down. Had such a spell landed a hit on him, it was impossible to know what kind of would it could inflict. It was better to stay away from those things.

"You!" the necromancer growled, getting back on his feet.

His expression was twisted by madness and rage. He jumped over the corpse, heading forward for a couple of steps, until he stopped and looked around, at his servants who weren't moving. Rickhart closed his eyes, took a deep breath and the undead resumed their charge.

"I didn't think we would meet again. My contacts told me you had been banished," he said. "And yet, not only you haven't, but you came here to fight. For the third time."

The young warrior guarded, because one of the ancient Barbarians was approaching, but at the last second the monster changed its direction and kept going.

Uh?

"Relax," his opponent also shifted into a stance. "They won't notice you unless I order them to. I'm interested in you, to be honest. Our past meetings happened out of pure chance, yet you came to me of your own will this time. I'm eager to see where this is going, Elemental."

Roric spun his sword, his sight locked on the necromancer. "I just realized how much this country needed me. I won't let you and those things take another step into Lyngard. You ruined too many lives already, Rickhart. If you expect me to stand by and watch while you massacre the entire city, know that it won't be the case."

"So dramatic! I like it. Come on, you must have learned some new trick, or you wouldn't be so confident. Will your stuff be good enough to entertain me, I wonder?"

Gulping, the boy readied himself.

Yes, I hope it will. Because if I fail, this place will be lost. Only the Mages in Cassidia and some of the agents of the Holy City have the power to take out someone like him. He'll conquer most of the Kingdom before anything can be done.

Also, another question had popped up in the young warrior's mind lately. If Rickhart needed to take down the King so badly, why besieging Lyngard? It was a waste of time, not to mention that it away his position and plan. Either he enjoyed battles way too much, or... Or he wanted to give a message to Cassidia, perhaps. There was definitely a hidden part he had yet to reveal.

"Roric, was it?" asked Rickhart. "I commend your courage. Or your stupidity. It's not like I care much, and we are running out of time. Shall we begin?"

"The sooner you fall, the better for everyone."

The necromancer chuckled, amused by those words. The two began turning in circles, studying their respective postures, as the battle continued around them. It was a strange situation, Roric thought, because his enemy could have used the superior numbers to crush him in an instant but for some reason he didn't. Something told him that Rickhart didn't like the idea of his underlings doing all the work in his stead.

It's clear that he didn't expect me to show up, and it greatly boosted his enthusiasm. He'll never admit it, I'm sure of it, but he too has a score to settle with me. Especially after last time, when I disrupted his spell with my powers.

That guy would have been a remarkable sparring partner, under normal circumstances, but the young warrior couldn't afford to see him as a mere opponent. That was no training. It had never been. The necromancer had killed Roric's friends and many others. For that, he had to pay.

"You were stalling for time too, that evening in Norburg," commented Rickhart. "What do you have in mind, little guy?"

"Nothing special," replied the boy. "And even if I had, I'd never share with the likes of you."

"Oh my, oh my. You are so serious-minded. A pity it won't last long."

Here he comes!

That wicked enemy was almost faster than Roric could handle. He closed the distance all of a sudden, without saying anything more, aiming for his neck. The young warrior deflected his strike and countered, noticing how much of Barden's teachings he could find in Rickhart's style.

If he had my same master, then it means he's used to the way he moved around. But I bet he isn't ready for the new technique I developed.

They exchanged blow after blow. It became immediately clear that under his mask of cockiness the necromancer was being more careful than the previous time. Most likely, because of the outcome of his raid in Norburg. Being hit by lightning wasn't part of his plans, and judging by his extreme aggressiveness he didn't want to concede Roric even a tiny breathing space.

Good strategy. He knows that if one of the two jumps back or overshoots I'll have the upper hand, since my powers are quicker to use. Anyway, I can't get on the offensive without doing that thing. I'm still too slow, and he is exploiting it to pin me down.

"Is that all?" his opponent taunted him. "I thought you would be stronger, Roric!"

"Shut up," the boy answered. "I'm not going to fall for it."

And he was completely right. Rickhart's blade rotated to the other side with blinding speed, and would have caught him for sure if he had attacked. Instead, the young warrior parried it with his own sword and kept waiting for the right chance.

Once I empower my muscles and hit, I'll be exposed. I suspect that he is expecting it, or he wouldn't try to bait me so hard. Moreover, I require a moment of focus to charge my body for the attack, and he will notice if I don't play my cards well.

An enemy like a necromancer couldn't be underestimated. He could use his magic to boost his blows in the same way paladins did, and had certainly other unknown spells in his arsenal. It was all a matter of how much training Rickhart had received.

Speaking of Rickhart, Roric started noticing weird movements in his eyes and forehead. He seemed nervous, for some reason.

He's keeping the fight under his control, yet... Since we started, it's like something was constantly distracting him. A thought, perhaps, or...

It came to his mind all at once. The young warrior had already seen his opponent behaving similarly, in Norburg. It had happened just for a few instants, while they talked, but at a certain point he had clearly addressed someone else. It could be a person, or an hallucination, but it was worth inquiring about.

In the middle of the exchange, the boy found the time to say, "You've been rather quiet. Something on your mind?"

He could clearly see a glimpse of panic in his eyes, followed by the kind of expression people made when they had been read as an open book. That reaction created a small gap in Rickhart's rhythm, wide enough for Roric to use.

I've got you now!

Energy surged inside his body, and his sword moved. His attack was unbelievably fast, too fast for the necromancer to predict. The steel cut through the leather of his pants, reaching deep into the left leg. Rickhart screamed, moving back, leaving himself open again for the young warrior's lightning powers.

Roric extended his free hand and shot a sure-hit discharge. He did that while thinking about his loved ones, about those who had been slayed by his opponent and his army of monsters. Finally, it was time to avenge them... Or maybe not.

Oh, no... Don't tell me it is...

A shield. A thin barrier of spiritual magic had appeared on the necromancer's body, blocking the sparks before they could connect. The boy guessed that he had managed to activate it reflexively, after feeling the pain of the wound.

Shit! Apart from the cut, he is alright. And I am-

His body gave in without any warning, and he found himself on his knees. Struggling to remain conscious, he could only watch in horror as Rickhart healed his injury. His enemy was a distorted, dark priest, but still a priest. The leg was repaired in a couple of seconds, leaving a blackened scar.

"Now you've done it," the necromancer panted, spitting blood.

Meanwhile, the young warrior used the last of his strength to get back on his feet. He could barely lift the sword. His opponent's abilities seemed to cause drawbacks too, at least, but Roric was the one more crippled.

They faced each other once again, both out of breath.

He'll kill me. I have to run. If I don't, I'll be dead. I...

It was at that moment that he heard it. The sound of a horn from behind. His head was too fuzzy for him to realize earlier, and his opponent seemed surprised by it too.

Someone... Someone is coming?