Bloodlines of the Ancient Pantheons

Meanwhile, Hjalmar grabbed his head, fell near him and moved it next to his neck.

The bones of his neck and spine began to attach to the lifeless head, as well as nerves and muscle layers.

His face began to move again and his eyelids to flip.

Severing his head was of no use. That monster had managed to regenerate himself and killed Magni.

Dag dashed toward Hjalmar, leaving a rut on the ground.

Hjalmar waved his arm toward Dag, trying to cut him with the blade, but he punched it down, shattering it.

Unleashing extreme power, Dag punched the center of Hjalmar's chest.

The impact was so violent that he penetrated the purple demon's chest, piercing him.

Dag entered Hjalmar's body completely and then came out the other side, covered in blood. By now he was out of control, his dark powers had taken over his human will, after the intense anger he had felt moments earlier.

Hjalmar stood, staggering.

Dag turned again to him.

His wound was closing again.

He walked toward Hjalmar, who turned and slowly rose his arm towards him, trying to grab him.

Dag pushed his arm away with his hand and shoved the other into the demon's chest, grabbing his heart.

Hjalmar knelt, strengthless.

Pulling at him, Dag violently tore Hjalmar's heart, squeezing it in his hand.

Then he grabbed the demon by a horn with his other hand.

In a clean gesture, he broke it and quickly stuck it into Hjalmar's neck, which opened his tusked mouth, vomiting blood.

Dag looked at Hjalmar's enormous heart in his hand.

He squeezed it tightly: the black liquid began to come out of his arm and slowly enveloped Hjalmar's still throbbing heart.

"Qo', Vay' QaQ Qu'" whispered the demon as his eyes began to fade.

...

"It doesn't... matter"

...

He had managed to translate his language as if he already knew it.

After wrapping his heart whole with black liquid, Dag turned back to Hjalmar, holding his head up by the horn stuck in his neck.

He brought his heart wrapped in the dark fluid at the demon's mouth.

"Wej Sovbe'bogh rur SoH," Dag said, as he shoved the demon's heart in his own mouth, forcing him to swallow it.

The demon opened his eyes wide.

Dag's intention was to say "I am the author of my destiny" but words came out of his mouth in the alien language.

Within a few seconds, after Dag stepped back, the fluid that Hjalmar had just ingested began to come out of every part of his body, beginning to break his bones and tear his muscles.

Dag continued to look him in the eye as his body imploded, writhing toward his center of mass.

Behind the shapeless body of the purple demon was Magni, lying on the ground.

Dag continued to shed tears from his eyes, despite his anger.

Although he was not completely himself, he felt severe pain in his heart as he looked at his Master's lifeless body.

Since the first time they met, he had always been kind, less harsh than the others.

Magni was the only one who really believed in him, always. He had never stopped believing, even when he had begun to show that dark and unknown powers.

In order to protect him and to stay with him, he gave him what was formerly his home, a sacred place of his past.

He had kept him safe in the farmhouse, taking care of him, bringing him supplies and provisions.

He had taught him one of his strongest techniques.

He had done all this, just for Dag.

And he had failed to do anything for his Master.

Dag clenched his fists.

A river of tears came down from his eyes, dripping down his face and then to the ground.

It was Xis' fault.

Despite the many difficulties he had faced, the Xis had ordered the Renegades to capture him.

If this had never happened, he would never have been in Castle Of Mork, and Magni would not have died.

Dag had a new goal, bigger than the extermination of a Clan. He was intent on avenging Magni's death. He didn't know how yet, but the Xis had to pay for what they had done.

Hjalmar's body continued to crumple until it was reduced to a small ball of flesh and bones.

Black smoke surrounded it, beginning to melt it.

Dag reached the awareness that the black liquid he could condense from the gas particles was actually a substance that allowed him to drain the vital energy of his opponents.

After drinking considerable amounts of magenta blood, his powers had increased and he had almost lost control, unleashing his full potential.

But that power would vanish soon.

Although the effect of the blood was immediate, its duration over time was not infinite, its enhancement was not permanent.

The sphere of flesh which contained Hjalmar's limbs and his power continued to disintegrate until it disappeared into a grayish smoke.

That smoke flew toward Dag, entering his nostrils and mouth.

The process was inevitable.

Dag felt a huge power exploding within him.

His stomach began to writhe and he knelt on the ground, painful.

His body was not strong enough to absorb all the demon's power.

Unable to resist feeling nauseous, Dag vomited.

The same liquid he generated before, ended up on the ground before his hands, in huge quantity.

He had excreted everything.

His eyes turned back light blue, their original color.

His eyesight began to tarnish and his ears began to whistle.

After a few minutes, as he stared at Magni's corpse in front of him on the floor, Dag lost consciousness.

...

"Hey! Dag! Dag!"

...

"He's awake! Give me a hand..."

...

"Let's lift him up"

Dag opened his eyes, beginning to regain consciousness.

He heard female voices around him.

"Where... where…am I?" he said.

"Dag! You're alive! Thank the Gods you're safe!"

Dag opened his eyes and tried to focus on the person who was talking to him.

Her long black hair grazed her face.

She was Claire.

Her face was inches from that of Dag, who was still lying on the ground.