Rebirth Of The Bastard Spirit Summoner

Stark saw his life flash before his eyes. For a moment, a thousand thoughts raced through his mind.

Had he been full of himself? Were his goals a hopeless quest?

'Will I die here?'

Stark he bit the insides of his cheek with so much force that he tasted blood, the pain shocking him back to reality.

'Think Stark, Think! There has to be a way!''

What did he have that could save him from certain death?

As Caylus swung his blade, sending devastating winds in his way, he gritted his teeth, a plan already forming in his head.

"Now!"

Shifu suddenly emerged in front of him, alongside the second goatman.

Just as the winds were mere seconds away from tearing him apart, Shifu shoved him away from the blast—while the second spirit kicked Shifu to the side and swung its axe uselessly at it.

Whoosh!

The wind cut past Stark, destroying the spirit martyr and bringing with it a wave of destruction. The howl of the wind was torturous, like a thousand wails—they filled his ears and tormented his mind.

He didn't fully escape the blast either; a small part of the current slammed into him, sending his body rolling violently on the floor before eventually bouncing against a large rock.

His entire body felt on fire, some bones definitely cracked, and blood dripped from his lips.

Just one strike… and he was pushed to the doors of death.

"Huuum!" Chubby floated next to him, panicked. The little guy hurriedly began healing him, but not for long, as Caylus appeared next to them, cleaving the little spirit in two.

And then he moved onto Stark.

Boom!

Using his sword like a mace, he slammed the side of the blade into Stark's gut, sending him flying.

With speed far greater than he had ever shown, Caylus appeared next to him—while he was still in the air.

He sucked in a deep breath, his lungs expanding before he unleashed a horrifying wail, a scream similar to a banshee's.

Stark clasped his hands around his ears but it was useless, his ears began to bleed, his mind disoriented.

Caylus grabbed onto his shirt to stop his acceleration, then swung him back down to the dirt, cracking the floor with his body.

And then with a powerful throw, Stark's body bounced against the podium of the waystone, sending dust into the sky and smearing his blood on the stone.

Stark could barely see; his vision was blurry, his ears were hearing sounds strangely, and colors blurred before him.

He reached into his shirt, his hands shaky, and pulled out a bottle of black liquid. With trembling hands, he uncorked it and brought it to his lips, barely taking a sip before his hands failed him.

The bottle fell to the ground, shattering, the black liquid smeared on the ancient stone.

It was a potent healing potion he had gotten in the city. He could already feel its effects, but he had taken too little, it wasn't enough.

Caylus suddenly floated to the ground in front of him, his feet barely touching the floor.

"That's right, Caylus, kill him and be done with it. Oh, and rip out his mask, I want to see who it is!"

Stark could not see Darell, but he heard his voice from above. He was most likely standing on the platform above them.

He looked up to meet Caylus' gaze, then chuckled dryly as he met his steely eyes.

Once again, he placed his hands into his pocket, his hands a bit more steady. This time he didn't pull out another mysterious object.

Instead, he pulled out a strange object.

It took a few seconds for Caylus to realize what it was, and when he did, his eyes widened, his cool demeanor completely vanishing.

It was his daughter's hairpin.

He grabbed Stark by the collar and pulled him up. "Why the fuck do you have this?!"

Stark smiled, his lips quivering, and then—

Splat!

He spat a mist of green substance right in Caylus' face. This close, he was unable to dodge the attack, nor did he expect it.

"Argh!" Caylus screamed as the substance burned into his skin, excruciating pain racing through his body.

Stark stumbled to his feet and the knight let go.

The green pill he had put in his mouth some time back—it was a special formula made from Jinxo weed. Mix it with blood…

And you have all the materials you need for Jinxex, or otherwise called Black Magic in a bottle. It was the mage's worst enemy.

It fed on mana, sinking into the skin and eating through it like termites through wood, draining you of both energy and stamina.

It wouldn't kill you, but the pain it caused was more than enough to give Stark the advantage.

As Shifu appeared next to him, they both lunged at the knight, his footsteps unstable.

Boom!

Shifu rammed his axe into the man's legs, causing him to buckle, and Stark planted a heavy boot into his gut, followed by a knee that cracked his head back.

Then he took Shifu's axe, and using the blunt side of the weapon, he rammed it into his skull with a resounding blow.

The knight fell like a log of wood, unconscious, with Stark breathing heavily above him, underneath the eerie glow of the moon.

He was Eva's father, that was the only reason he wasn't already dead.

Only then could Stark take a look around… in the distance, he saw Kaeri kneeling on the floor, severely injured but alive.

Then he turned to look at Darell…

"Y-you defeated Caylus?? Impossible! You dirty cheater!"

The man took a step back and gritted his teeth, pulling out his blade, the swallow tail.

Stark began his slow march up the stairs of the waystone.

Step!

He had dreamt of this day…

Step!

His body was battered, he shouldn't have been able to move, and yet, he pushed himself up with the power of pure unadulterated hatred.

Step!

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a black ball.

Immediately he got to the top, Darell let out a battle cry and lunged at him, the sword flying towards his neck.

Darell was no fighter. He had never trained or been in any real battle. In his hands, even a sword as great as the swallow tail was just a toy.

Whoosh!

Stark threw the black ball at his face, the spot right between his eyes. It was not some special mage poison or a mystical smoke bomb.

He had run out of those things in his fight with Caylus, this was just a simple pebble, but with Stark's strength, it was a weapon.

An extraordinary rock!

The stone crashed against his skull, disorienting him, and Stark kicked him in the groin, bringing him to his knees.

"AHHHHHHHH!" Darell screamed, eyes open so wide that it looked like they would pop out.

The sound of his agony was a soothing melody to Stark's soul.

He sat down and pulled off his mask. Darell stared at him, his expression twisted in rage and pain.

"Who the fuck are you? What do you want? Money? I'll give you all the fucking cash you need!"

Stark chuckled and tied back his hair, revealing his ears. They were too short to be elven and yet too pointed to be human.

Still, Darell was confused.

Up until Stark spoke—no, in the altered version of his voice he got along with his new face, but his true voice.

"It's been a long time, friend."

Darell's eyes widened in fear. "I-impossible, I k-killed you, you are dead!"

"And yet I walk among the living."

He reached for his sword on the ground next to him, but Shifu placed his foot atop the blade, pressing it down.

The spirit glared at Darell, his scowl deeper than usual. It seemed even Shifu thought of him as scum.

"Adrian, please, I didn't mean to do it. I just had to, it was the king's decree!"

"Oh really?" Stark rested his head on his chin, far too tired to sit up straight. "You seemed more than happy to put that dagger in my chest."

Darell winced. "Please listen to me, I'm your best friend—"

"Enough." Stark said, cutting him off.

His mood was beyond sour, and his grey eyes filled with a certain madness that made Darell stop breathing.

"It's time to repay the favour... Right hand."

"W-wwhat do you—Arghhhh!"

Cold and without mercy, Shifu swung his axe, ripping Darell's right arm out of his shoulder.

Darell screamed and rolled on the floor, like a worm he tried to slither to safety.

"Legs."

Swish!

Shifu slammed his axe into both knees, eliciting another painful scream from Darell as blood gushed from the wounds.

Stark looked away as he whispered the last word. "Heart."

The screams came to a halt, and he stared down at the empty space in front of him, his mind a mess of emotions.

Everything else had just been a preface, killing Darell was what truly set him on this path—the path to vengeance.

Now he could never turn back, not after getting this far.

A bright light appeared behind him seconds later, followed by a scoff.

"You look like shit."

Stark smiled and glanced back, bathed in the blood of his former friend. "I thought you said you weren't coming?"

•••

[End Of Volume 1]

[Bastard's Wrath]

•••

Long after Stark had left the waystone, when there was no one in sight, the stone suddenly flared, giving off a bright purple light.

The spot where Darell's blood had been spilled began to glow vibrantly, then the blood sank into the stone, converting the purple glow to crimson.

And then the light vanished.

But seated on the podium was a woman who had not been previously there.

Her ashy grey skin had a soft shine, a sparkle that made it seem as though the stars were nestled in it.

Her pointed ears twitched slightly as she yawned and ran her hand through her pitch black hair.

Then she smiled, revealing two elongated fangs.

<Ride to the southern waystone with an offering in hand, cast your blood upon the stone and your debt will be considered paid>

"To think he would do it even in death…"

She crossed her legs and laughed, her cackles reverberating in the air.

"At last, the children of Echoes walk upon this cursed world."