Felic and his group of knights marched across the barren wasteland towards the castle of the undead tyrant king. The once green fields that surrounded the castle had long since withered away, leaving nothing but scorched earth in their wake. The air was thick with the stench of death, and the sky was darkened by a thick fog that had settled over the land. The leader of the northernmost monsters inhabiting this continent resided in this castle, and with their co-ordinated strike, they would eliminate this pest from the world and secure the first continent on Otherside after clearing away the rest of the leftover demons.
As they approached the castle gates, the group of knights braced themselves for the fight that was sure to come. The undead tyrant king was rumoured to be one of the most powerful beings in the land, and his armies of the undead were said to be unstoppable. But Felic and his knights were not deterred. They had come too far to turn back now. Their goal was worth more than just their own lives.
The castle gates creaked open, and the knights charged forward, their weapons at the ready. They were met with a horde of undead soldiers, their empty eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. The knights fought valiantly, their swords clashing against the rusted armour of their foes. But for every undead soldier they struck down, two more took their place. Barrages of Aspects fell onto the hordes, clearing them away; swarms of rockets exploded on the floor and beams of light descended from the sky to eradicate the backlines.
More undead arose from outside the gates, trapping the knights between the incoming hordes. Still they did not relent; Aspect after Aspect burned into the lines, and they managed to slowly advance minute after bygone minute.
As the battle raged on, Felic caught sight of the undead tyrant king himself, towering above his army of the dead. The king's eyes blazed with an unholy fire, and his sword crackled with dark energy. Felic knew that he had to face the tyrant king alone, and he charged forward, his own sword gleaming in the dim light. 'Grand Challenge!'
He teleported in front of the king, and the two warriors clashed, their swords ringing out like thunder. Felic was fast and agile, dodging the king's powerful blows with ease. But the undead tyrant king was relentless, and his strength was otherworldly. With each blow, Felic felt his strength waning, his muscles burning with exhaustion. The king delivered crushing blows with a never ending quantity of stamina.
The other knights fought valiantly, their swords flashing in the darkness. But one by one, they fell, their bodies crumbling to dust under the power of the undead king's dark magic. With every beam of light to crush the newly born undead, one more Dreamer fell. Felic was the only one left standing, his sword arm shaking with fatigue. The undead spectated the fight curiously, as if taunting Felic.
With a fierce roar, Felic launched himself at the undead tyrant king, his sword flashing through the air. The king parried his blows with ease, but Felic was undeterred. With a burst of strength, he struck the king's sword from his hand, sending it clattering to the ground.
The undead king bellowed in rage, his eyes flashing with fury. He lunged at Felic with his bare hands, his fingers curled into claws. Felic dodged his attacks, his own sword flashing in the darkness. With a swift strike, he plunged his sword into the undead king's chest, driving it deep into his heart. He narrowed his eyes, and slammed the red button to his side.
His ace in the hole.
A giant skyscraper materialized in the air behind Felic, and he leapt out of the way as it crashed down into the King and his army, decimating their forces. The building disappeared as it fell, leaving only a portrait of bones and bodies.
The king screamed, his body writhing in agony. Felic jumped back and pulled back his sword from the king's chest, watching as he stumbled to his throne. The fire within his eyes dulled rapidly, extinguishing themselves after an eternity of burning. The other undead soldiers fell as well, their bodies turning to ash in the dim light.
Felic stood alone in the dark castle, the only survivor of a brutal fight that had left him battered and defeated. His once proud armour was now dented and cracked, and his sword arm hung limply at his side. Blood trickled down his face from a deep gash on his forehead, and he could feel his strength slowly ebbing away.
As he looked around the broken field, Felic saw the bodies of his fallen comrades scattered around him. Their lifeless forms lay twisted and broken, their weapons still clutched in their hands. The air was thick with the smell of blood and death, and the flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the rough stone walls. Streaks of bright red swiftly dulled as blood seeped into the stones.
Felic felt a deep sense of despair as he surveyed the scene before him. How had it come to this? They were the elite; the shining stars that warded off all darkness; the reliable slayers that would protect the Final Castle. What would happen now that the advance force had died off? Wouldn't the northern region fall completely? Felic had fought bravely, but in the end, he had been the only one left standing.
As he stumbled through the halls, Felic felt a deep sense of loss. He had trained for years to become a warrior, honing his skills and dedicating his life to defending his people. But now, he had failed. He had been unable to protect his comrades. This hollow victory they obtained wouldn't mean anything in the end; the Abyss kept sending more monsters, but every Dreamer lost was an invaluable entity. Sure, they may not be dead yet, but every member of the legion wouldn't ever be the same. Some had already sustained deaths, and their sanity was bound to crumble. This legion was finished. Their entire Coalition was done.
He couldn't stay in the castle for long. More of those damned knights would come, and he would not be able to fend them off alone. With a heavy heart, he gathered his strength and opened the door to move towards the gate. As he stumbled through the darkness of the night, he thought about what would come next. How would they fend off the remaining Lords around the area? Hopefully someone else could pick up the mantle, but he alone couldn't do much.
As he stumbled out, he turned his head to look back. The corpse of the Tyrant sat on the throne, mocking him even now. But something was different. The Tyrant's arm...
It was pulling wisps of light. Black wisps.
Felic rushed back to the corpse. Was there something he missed? An item, perhaps? He ripped out the Tyrant's arm, inspecting it clearly. Maybe there was something to make this expedition worthwhile after all?
| 13 | The Decaying Arm | 13 |
| Double all inflicted status effects in the most favourable manner. | ||
Felic's eyes widened. Doubling status effects? He had a plethora of Aspects in his Spirit, currently being transcendence fourty. This might just be the effect that salvages it all. But how could he use it? Is it meant to be wielded? No, certainly not.
And then he realized.
Taking out his Omni, he braced himself before a bloodcurdling scream erupted from the castle. Felic panted furiously as blood filled his vision, but he swiftly placed the cursed Decaying Arm on top of the stump where his arm used to lay. Black wisps shot out like bullets to attatch themselves to him, and left him with a perfect replacement.
Felic lay down, his head pounding with a thunderous melody in his head. He pulled out an Aspect Ring and casted heal after heal to stabilize himself. After what felt like eternity, he made his way to the throne from the floor and grasped his head in his hands. Yes, he could feel that beautiful sensation of power.
Now he could finally save the Dreamers, and be the hero of the story, as he was meant to be.
What he didn't notice was his mask shattering to pieces. The star symbol at the tip of his mask breaking in half.
Nor the dark wisps from the arm moving to his head.
