Curselock

Chapter 35: Ambush

As the blade of Boor’s rapier clashed against a short sword pulsating isolated gales of wind, the boys readied themselves. Glenny was first to move, slipping invisible and rushing forward. He ignored the sparks of wind, his daggers quickly finding flesh against an unsuspecting woman holding a crossbow.

Blood gushed high into the air, taking to the swordsman’s tempest and littering the battlefield with crimson rain. Glenny didn’t let up his assault, twisting his daggers deeper into the woman’s nape while wrapping his legs around her torso.

The woman stumbled, firing off a bolt that exploded against a stone pillar. Dust and debris fell, obscuring the alleyway. Abruptly, a semi invisible body was thrown out of the cloud before slamming into a wall well behind Leland.

Jude twitched with rage, pulling his oversized battle axe from his hand tattoo and then launching it at a Witch carrying an equal size axe. He then jumped, landed before the crossbow holder and axe wielder. With a mighty war cry, a red crescent blazed from Jude’s horizontal slash.

The sudden attack stopped the axe wielder from dumping the contents of a small vial on the woman’s wounds. Before the glass vial hit the ground, Jude was swinging. He pushed into the pair, keeping his focus on the injured woman.

Leland slammed his palm into his grimoire, offering mana and lifeforce in exchange for a violet halo. It formed above his head, wisps of ethereal smoke trailing with the direction of the wind. His tome then skipped back a few pages, finding the curse its master intended to cast.

Power welled up around Leland’s heart as he spoke the powerword aloud, “Slow.”

For a moment the Legacy of Curses was connected to the Witch wielding a battle axe eerily similar to Jude’s own. Leland felt genuine thrill from the battle, along with distant worry for the crossbow holding woman.

The connection severed and Leland watched Jude capitalize on the slowed man. A hand was sliced clean off at the wrist, falling to the hard ground below with a wet thud. The man screamed and shoved the woman towards their attacker.

“Fracture,”

The axe wielder stumbled, fear gripping his shaky legs and launching himself forward. He leaped, aiming for the guarding Jude. The man landed and quickly found himself in a barrage of haphazard attacks. Wild swings met wild swings as Jude slowly killed his humanity. Rage sprouted from its corpse, boosting his strength with the power of the Berserker Lord.

The man took the initiative as well, allowing his fear to fuel his inextinguishable hatred. Rage carved into its mirror image as two of the same Legacy battled for supremacy.

Leland didn’t care about honor or rite of the duel as he spoke another powerword.

“Maul,” he said, summoning forth eight ethereal crows.

They swooped around the scaffolding and buildings, looping high into the cavern’s enclosed airspace before dive bombing into their target. Leland commanded them to attack the man’s heels and knees, urging them to disable the man by shredding his tendons. Blood started to drip as the crows made their presence known.

Glenny suddenly did the same, but to the woman he initially attacked. He finished the injured woman, killing her with two knives to the spine.

A new Witch peeled off the battle with Boor, waving his hand at Glenny’s transparent form. The stone street rumbled with magic and mana, forcing the rogue to dive. Off white crystals magnified in size, exploding with growth. The battle field suddenly became a salt jungle as the Legacy of Salt sowed his seed.

Glenny didn’t wait around and ran through the obstacle course of sharpened salt crystals. Suddenly the crystals retracted, leaving the rogue out in the open. Hesitation caught his inexperienced foot as a blade of salt sprung from the ground. A gash formed against his ankle and thigh, running up his side.

The salt mage began to wave his hands again but a murder of crows broke his concentration. Leland cursed his bones for good measure as well, giving his friend enough time to close the distance.

A crystalized wall broke from the stone floor, encircling the man while walling him off from his attackers. It didn’t matter to the birds, however, their ethereal forms allowing ease of passage through the solid mineral. The mage screamed as his skin was plucked from his broken bones.

Leland set his attention back on the berserker battling Jude. The difference in rank was making itself known as Jude was losing his footing. Each attack he dodged left him that much more winded, each attack he blocked strained his muscles that much more.

Focusing on his newest contract, Leland put his concentration into a single curse. His grimoire left his hand, floating beside him like it was trapped within his orbit. He pushed the one emotion he knew Berserker Lords failed to fully comprehend: Calmness.

“Fracture,”

Both Jude and the Witch went sluggish, their Legacy bonuses drifting further from their grasp. Pain invaded their blurred minds, Jude much less than his opponent.

Multiple broken bones and torn tendons flooded the man’s senses, pushing him closer to loss of consciousness. He teetered on his feet, the grip on his axe failing. A deep red line suddenly appeared along the back of his knees. A groan escaped his lips as he leaned over in pain, only for a dagger to find his jugular a moment later.

Blood exploded from the wound as Glenny’s Legacy ability took hold.

As the man fell, lifeless yet calm, Jude gasped in air. “W-what was that? W-what just happened?”

Leland resummoned his crows, pointing them to the crystalline cylinder with a mage core. He then turned to his friend and said, “A contract. Figured you’d both shrug off fear or intimidation.”

“G-good call. How’s that cut, Glen?”

“Don’t call me that, and it would be appreciated if I could borrow your ring, Leland.”

Leland handed over the Ring of Regeneration without argument. A crow then perched on a nearby sign, locking eyes with its master and cawing.

“Oh, it looks like that salt mage is dead,” Leland said. “Our kind really are weak…”

Pain receded from Glenny’s sheared body, a feeling he nearly groveled at. “You can seriously affect the tide of battle. Thanks for the save earlier, by the way.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Leland said, turning to Boor and his ongoing fight. “Do you think he needs help?”

Five Witches fought against the butler, each holding various light cuts or deep puncture wounds. Boor himself hardly seemed to be sweating.

“Nah,” Jude said, his tattoo of regeneration releasing the strain on his body. “I don’t think I can fight again without losing myself. Calming me with your contract might not be the way to go in the future. Of course use it if you deem it necessary, but I can still feel the rage swimming around in my head.”

“Hmm? How do you mean?” Leland asked, watching Boor dance around a sword whirling with air and a fist crackling with lightning.

“The calming solution is like… like… a blanket. The rage is hidden underneath. I just need to figure out how to calm myself, because this feels like I could snap at any moment.”

The trio went silent as Boor’s combat showing continued. The man moved with expert finesse and grace, despite his height. He used the battle field to his advantage, kicking up rubble or skipping off uneven ground and forcing his attackers to match his keen footwork.

The tip of a spear whistled through the air as it fired forward, only to be parried by the guard of Boor’s rapier. Attacking the wide open target, he whipped his flexible sword in an upward slash. It caught against the man’s chest, slicing his shirt to ribbons while etching the same pattern deep into his bones.

The sudden wound split fully as the man tried to control his decimated shoulder. Like peeling a banana, his muscles separated from their internal structure. The man crumbled, falling to the floor while using his remaining strength to push away in retreat.

“Why can Boor harm them more than us?” Glenny asked. “The attacks I usually think will kill only harmed. Like that woman holding the crossbow. I thought I would have severed her spine with my opening attack.”

“Difference in rank,” Leland answered simply. “A rank three fireball will engulf a rank one. Goes the same for people who are higher rank.”

Jude frowned before yelling at the butler. “Boor! What rank are you?!”

“Seriously? He’s not going to answer that. He’s fighting for his—”

“Three!” Boor yelled back.

Jude gave Glenny a smug smile. “What rank are these guys?!”

“Peak one, I’d say!”

“Huh, how about that,” Leland mused.

The battle was pretty much over. Without the spear users, the offensive potential of the Witches simply couldn’t keep up with Boor’s own. Leland hummed at this, a thought stirring in his mind. Slowly he came to terms with asking, Boor seemed to be reasonable enough.

“Hey Boor! I’ve got a new spell I haven’t tried. Mind if I cast it?”

Boor’s face twitched, but he relented “Fine!”

“Alright, it's an area of effect and I don’t know if it will harm you!”

Leland didn’t wait for a response. After telling Jude and Glenny to step back, he flipped to the newest page in his grimoire. Knowledge and aptitude invaded his mind, guiding his hand in purging the wicked. A word came to him, one of potential and strife.

Warlock.

His eyes burst into a brilliant and vibrant purple flame as a similar fire sprouted around him in a small circle. The memory of meeting the Lord of Curses came to him, more specifically the souls of the Damned clawing their way out of the lifeless soil of the Petrified forest.

Mana and lifeforce mixed deep within Leland’s own soul before filling in the circle of purple fire. He saw them, everyone within his circle, his domain. He found Jude and Glenny a few steps behind him. He ignored them. He moved the circle, finding more souls to identify. Boor was easy enough.

Mentally marking Boor as safe, Leland unleashed the finalized spell within his soul.

“Bow to me!”

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