Curselock

Chapter 86: Haunt

Following Glenny’s plan, the boys and Gelo huddled-up. They muttered between themselves, making sure to occasionally look down the stands and into the area. They would lock eyes with the King one at a time, each time for slightly longer than the last, and smirk.

This enraged the King. All four of his long hooved legs stomped into the sandy floor, each splintering into thick shards of ice as the humidity around him froze over. He didn’t try to hide his anger, much to the annoyance of the three monsters beside him. Each slowly drifted away, out of range of their King’s temper.

The boys, meanwhile, discussed the monsters they’d have to fight. As Gelo explained it, the battle would be four on four, but now that she wasn’t participating, three on three. The King and his Royal Guard versus the three challengers.

“Uncle Everald!” Gelo announced. “I’m not fighting, so kick one of those monsters out!”

Without prompting, the smallest of the three Royal Guards jumped away, heading back into the stands. It was a monkey-type monster, but besides its icy tail, the boys had no idea what it was capable of. Luckily, the remaining two Royal Guard were monsters they were at least familiar with by description alone.

The first was a Wraith – a humanoid ghostly being covered in a dark cowl. It floated silently beside the King, a sickle in its hand and white breath misting from the black void where its head should be. Each hand was black and blue and with various levels of proper fingers. Some were whole and present, others little more than a knuckle. Either way, it clutched its weapon tightly, magic flowing through its ethereal form.

The second, a Frigid Hordeling, contrasted the Wraith well. The monster was short and stout, bipedal but rested on its knuckles in a forward slouch. Its wide hands were flexed with indomitable strength and fortitude, no doubt in kind due to the frigid wastelands where they thrive. Its arms twisted up into its torso with an armored set of hackles, ending with a short snout brimming with razor-like teeth.

“I WILL SICK MY MINIONS ON YOU IF YOU DO NOT HURRY!” the King bellowed, only receiving a strange look from Gelo.

“He’s lying,” the cub whispered to the boys. “The dungeon’s rules don’t allow for that. He must wait for you three all to enter the arena to attack. The challenge has already been set, none of the other monsters can interfere.”

Leland didn’t consider that for long, his focus set firmly on the battle plan. Angering the King, while prudent, didn’t help with the Wraith and hordeling. For those they needed a proper plan, one that— No, he told himself. The ideal plan was obvious, it just wasn’t one he was confident in.

“The problem is the Wraith,” Leland whispered. “If it is anything like my crows, none of us will be able to hit it. Which means, if my guess is correct, only my crows will be able to do anything against it. So, that means me fighting it alone.”

Jude and Glenny gave him a knowing look. “You think you can survive long enough for Jude to kill the hordeling?” the rogue asked.

Leland nodded slowly, behind him the King shouted about something irrelevant.

Jude spoke up next, “I could take the Wraith, and you could kill the hordeling?”

“No. We both know I’d take too long.”

No one had a response to that. Glenny clapped his hand against Leland’s shoulder. “If you need help, scream for me. I’ll try to help out.”

“Not with the moose battling you down.”

Glenny’s smile lit up. “You forget, I ran from basilisk for a long while before eventually killing it. I don’t run out of energy, not with my cloak, remember?”

What he didn’t mention was that it was nearly drained of starlight. Being in an eternally day dungeon, the cloak had failed to regenerate any of the power it used. He had a bit left in reserve, but not enough for him to be comfortable.

Leland nodded justly. “I say we get in there then. The King looks bursting.”

With one last reminder of the plan, the boys stepped away from Gelo and down the flight of stairs. And with a weak hop, they jumped the boundary drop-off leading into the sandy pit below.

“Finally!”

The boys ignored the King, taking position before their respective combatants. Jude stood before the hordeling, Leland the wraith, and Glenny the King.

“First team fully killed loses. No other rules besides that you are not allowed to leave the arena. Ready?”

Each boy gave a subtle nod. Somewhere within the room a low drum was hit. It resonated through the stands, creating a wave of growls and hisses. Another beat sounded and the King and his guard readied, the boys mimicking the gesture. Then, much louder than the two prior, a third beat rang through the castle.

The meaning was obvious; start!

The King reacted first and with the most emphasis. He launched across the sand, galloping full tilt toward Glenny, who only created two shafts of crimson power.

Jude moved next, leaping across the way at the slow hordeling. He landed with a harsh impact, breaking the stone below the sand upward. Shards of rock protruded around the monster, circling it while the berserker swung. Battle axe met leathery skin as they clashed.

Leland, meanwhile, slowly stepped horizontally toward the edge of the arena. The wraith silently copied his movements, gaging its combatant. Giving himself a wide enough birth from Glenny and the King who fought in the center of the arena, Leland flipped through his grimoire with frightening speed.

The book took to his will and hovered just to the side of his vision, waiting. The name of the game was stalling, and if the wraith wasn’t going to attack, neither was Leland.

As if it recognized his plan, the wraith screeched, momentarily showing its haunted face. Pain, suffering, endless cold nights, and an undead life shone as it rushed through the battlefield. It moved with horrid speed, phasing through reality like a shadow disappearing when the sun rose.

It raised its icy sickly and a wash of raw mana blew past Leland with a cold kick. He dove to the side, keeping his eyes on the now fading wraith. Like a rainbow appearing after a long rain, the wraith appeared mid-swing behind where Leland had just been standing.

Its swipe went wide, and Leland rolled away. He scampered to his feet and gathered mana and life force to his lips. A shriek whistle was closely followed by “Maul.”

Leland’s flock didn’t waste time and attacked the wraith. Some appeared from their realm mid-flight, others stationary like they had just been sitting on a tree branch. It only took a second for each and everyone to bombard the monster with sharp talons and iron-like pecks.

Leland chanced a glance to his friends, finding Jude smashing his axe into the hordeling’s armored back and Glenny slowly coaxing the King away from the center of the arena. Before he could calculate if their plan was working, another wave of cold brisked behind Leland.

He dove again, this time dodging a vertical slash. The page on his grimoire flipped and for a moment mana and lifeforce swirled around Leland’s heart. For only a moment he and the wraith were connected yet he didn’t allow himself to even register how the monster was feeling. Something as cold and lifeless as a wraith? Leland wasn’t about to subjugate himself to that.

Wraiths were well known for a few things, one being their rarity. Being an undead, they’re creation was less than savory and usually under extreme duress. Freezing to death was often the method, along with the hatred and resentment such a climate could bring. They were rarely spotted in populated areas, often retreating away from life and living in seclusion. Although, if the stories were to be believed, that wasn’t always the case.

Towns, big and small, had been decimated by a single Wraith in the past. Their ethereal form left few ways to truly harm such a creature, often requiring specialized Inquisitors or highly renowned adventurers to intervene.

While his crows could harm the monster, what truly surprised Leland was that his Curse of Collapse actually affected it. The wraith slowed once the curse settled, its movements suddenly a heavy jitter, like it was trying to swim with lead weights attached to its arms.

It still continued to float, no doubt—

“STOP MOVING YOU FLY!”

Leland turned, finding the King whipping his head back and forth hoping to impale Glenny on his antlers. The rogue, however, kept just out of the monster’s range. He backpedaled toward—

A flurry of cold expelled from the wraith, flinging the crows off its hooded body and sending a shockwave through the sandy arena. The blast hit Leland, launching him into the air and slamming him against the battlefield’s edge.

Hardly even noticing the growling monsters a few feet above him, Leland shook off the pain and refocused. A snap echoed from his fingers as he sneered, “Fracture.”

There was no feedback, there was no crack or pop. The spell fizzled as it collided with the wraith, failing to even touch upon its ethereal bones. Leland turned and ran, rushing across the arena with as much speed as he could muster.

Fracture working on the wraith was a long shot, Leland knew, but he measured it to be a worthy experiment. As he dove to dodge another sickle slash, he resummoned his crows and reapplied Curse of Collapse.

The crows, while attacking with all of their might, were only doing superficial damage at best. Bleeding an enemy or distracting them were the best the unevolved crows could muster, which against an enemy with frozen blood, just didn’t cut it. The distraction was enough, however, any extra time Leland could scrape out was a—

The wraith appeared in front of him. Leland kicked up sand as he abruptly stopped but the monster was one step ahead. It screamed, expelling another round of cold magic and creating another shockwave.

A bubble aegis formed around Leland as he activated his – now recharged – necklace of protection. The shockwave rebounded against the shield, reverberating into the sand. A dust cloud bloomed, the suddenness catching Leland by surprise.

He squinted, noticing late that the wraith had moved. His crows tried to intervene, the entire flock moving to protect their summoner.

The wraith’s sickle shredded right through them with a plume of ethereal feathers. Its weapon cracked the depleted aegis without warrant, slicing into Leland.

The cut instantly turned black, frostbite taking a localized hold. Leland fell back in horror and watched the few remaining crows attempt to help. They were each taken out one by one, the wraith sick of the distraction.

Pain became Leland’s own distraction, cutting his call for more crows at the roots. The words died in his mouth as he watched the wraith raise its deathly hand.

Yet, the killing blow never came. Instead the sickle met a red energy, one brimming with familiar power. Glenny’s weapons appeared connected to his invisible hands as he parried the monster’s attack.

Leland’s eyes widened and he scrambled away. As he did, he saw the King now dueling Jude, a dead hordeling impaled against his massive antlers.

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