NOVEL NEXT 32. What Burns Away
The leap carries my frame across molten depths. Distance means nothing to chosen bones. Time slows during flight. Lava bubbles beneath. The Duke's elite guard shifts and intercepts. They bar my way, blade arms ready to meet my landing. Their twisted forms, once human warriors remade by demon craft, show no fear as fifteen feet of bone and ancient steel hurtles toward them.
They face duty that outlasts death.
Aeternus leads. The blade cleaves through the first guard before skeletal feet touch stone. No resistance. Steel parts helm, skull, spine in one continuous arc. Black blood sprays as corrupted armor splits. The platform trembles under my weight. Stone cracks at impact point.
The remaining guards attack as one, moving with unnatural coordination. Multiple blades aimed where my skull was moments before. Six weapons converge on empty space. I drop low, dragon reinforced bones allowing flexibility that flesh cannot match.
My free hand grabs the nearest guard by his helm, fingers punching through metal. Bone meets bone as my grip tightens, crumpling inward. The guard's legs kick wildly. His spine arches backward. Vertebrae snap in sequence, each break louder than the last. The guard's struggles cease, limbs going slack.
I pivot, using the deadweight as a weapon. The corpse crashes into two more guards, their formations breaking. Steel scrapes against stone as they stumble backward. One falls to his knees. Another's blade arm tangles with his companion's helm. Their perfect coordination shatters.
The body tumbles over the edge, disappearing into the lava below. Orange light reflects off twisted armor, casting long shadows across the throne room floor. The molten rock accepts its offering without sound.
The remaining guards recover quickly, but that moment of disorder is enough. Dragon reinforced bones creak as I advance, each step leaving spider web cracks in the stonework. Three more guards form a wall between their master and these chosen bones.
The Duke does not wait. His spear flashes forward, faster than mortal eyes could track. Dark energy crackles along its length, leaving trails of corruption in the air itself. The weapon's tip finds a gap in my chest plates, sending fracture lines through ancient bone. Black energy eats through marrow. Ribs crack and splinter.
No matter. These chosen bones care nothing for pain. The Duke has weakened much since last we fought.
His corrupted flesh has withered, patches of yellowed bone showing through torn skin. One arm ends in cauterized stump. His remaining eye weeps black ichor that sizzles where it touches stone. Each breath rattles through damaged lungs.
The demon's might has waned while mine has grown.
I move, bringing Aeternus around in a horizontal arc. The blade sings through air, leaving blue afterimages. Two more guards fall, their torsos separated from legs. Upper halves continue fighting, blade arms swinging wildly as they collapse. The platform's edge crumbles where they land. Chunks of stone plummet into churning lava.
"Die properly this time!" the Duke roars. His voice echoes, distorted by damaged vocal cords.
He still does not understand. Does not recognize these bones.
His spear becomes a blur, each thrust seeking vital joints. One strike pierces shoulder socket. Another finds knee joint. A third slides between ribs. The weapon's corrupt touch spreads cracks through my armor. Black energy eats at dragon bone, turning white to gray. Fragments fall away with each impact.
My blade meets his next strike. The weapons clash with the sound of thunder breaking stone. Sparks shower the platform, each glowing mote burning holes in what remains of stone floor. The impact sends tremors through both our frames.
Above, Marnac circles on borrowed wings. "The Duke weakens! Press the attack!"
His few surviving demons try to reach our battle. Wings strain against heated air currents. Claws scrabble for purchase on slick stone. Most fall short, plummeting into the molten rock below. Their screams last only moments before lava claims them. Those that make it scatter as the Duke's spear sweeps a wide arc, trailing dark lightning that leaves ozone scorch marks on stone.
I use the moment to strike. Aeternus finds the Duke's blind side. The blade cuts through corrupted armor. Black ichor sprays stone in arterial patterns. He howls, staggering back. One clawed hand clutches the wound, trying to hold torn flesh together.
His remaining guards surge forward with cutting edges. My armor takes dozens of hits, pieces falling away. Pauldrons crack. Breastplate splinters. Arm guards fall to stone in pieces. No matter. These bones remember worse wounds.
My free hand catches a guard's strike between finger bones. The blade edge cuts to knuckle before stopping. I twist, shattering his blade arm at the elbow. Bone bursts through flesh. Before he can scream, plated knee drives up into his chest. Ribs explode outward as dragon bone meets lesser metal. His lungs rupture. Black blood fountains from mouth slit.
The Duke recovers faster than expected. His spear clips my shoulder, sending bone fragments scattering across stone. The wound spreads corruption through nearby plates, turning white bone to brittle char. I respond by striking forward, Aeternus seeking heart.
He blocks, but barely. The impact drives him back another step. His foot finds unstable ground. He stumbles, momentarily off balance. His remaining eye widens as he feels stone shift beneath his weight.
I press forward. Aeternus seeks his throat, but remaining guards intercept. Their bodies form a wall of steel and flesh between us. Blade arms lock together in shield formation. They will die before yielding.
Aeternus knows its purpose. Like these borrowed bones, it serves a higher calling. Where it strikes, corruption retreats. Dark magic withers before ancient runes. Demon flesh parts.
I bring the blade up in a diagonal sweep, putting full momentum of titan frame behind the strike. Two more guards fall, forms cleaved through cursed armor. The cuts are clean. Aeternus leaves no ragged edges.
Upper bodies slide from lower, internal organs remain intact until gravity pulls them apart.
The platform shudders violently. More stone breaks away at the edges, plummeting into lava below. Cracks spread outward from impact points. The Duke uses the unstable footing to his advantage, each strike aimed to disrupt balance rather than destroy. His spear seeks the spaces between broken flagstones, forcing defensive steps onto unstable ground.
His fighting shows centuries of experience. Each movement flows into the next, no energy wasted. Even wounded, he remains lethal.
I plant my feet wider, compensating for the shifting ground. Dragon reinforced bones dig into stone for purchase. A guard tries to flank from behind, blade arm extended for spine strike. I catch his wrist without looking, using his momentum to throw him into his companions. They tumble together, their own weapons impaling each other. Three voices scream as one, then fall silent.
The Duke's spear takes my leg at the knee. The limb separates cleanly, sent spinning into lava below. I fall, but turn it into a roll that carries me past his follow up strike. Spear tip embeds in stone where my skull had been.
My hand finds a fallen guard's helm. I hurl it at the Duke's face, forcing him to block. The distraction costs him half a second.
That moment is enough. I surge upward on remaining leg, Aeternus leading. The blade catches his spear below the head. With a twist of ancient bones, I wrench the weapon from his grip. It spins through air, vanishing into lava below. The molten stone swallows it without trace.
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He responds by drawing twin swords from sheaths on his back. The blades shimmer with malevolent energy, their edges serrated with teeth that move of their own accord.
Our weapons meet in a fury of strikes. Each impact sends shockwaves through the chamber. Stone cracks beneath our feet. The platform continues to disintegrate. The Duke dances between unstable sections, his movements fluid despite wounds. My sword arm moves with speed upon speed, but he matches every strike. His blades weave complex patterns, seeking any opening.
A sword finds my ribs, corruption eating through bone. Segments crumble to dust where the blade touches. I grab his wrist before he can withdraw, crushing armor and flesh together. He head butts my skull, helm leaving spoke like cracks in ancient bone. Impact sends fracture lines across my vision.
We grapple at the platform's edge. His remaining sword seeks gaps while my free hand tries to break his remaining arm. He shifts weight to avoid falling. I press harder, forcing him back toward oblivion. Armor crumples under titan strength. His blade cracks three more ribs. They fall away, exposing what would be vital organs in living frame.
Marnac's voice follows, "The fortress trembles! Finish him!"
The Duke's helm turns slightly at the words. I seize the moment, driving my knee into his wounded side. The impact reopens his injury. Fresh ichor sprays both our frames. He staggers back. A
eternus follows, the blade's runes igniting with blue fire as it meets his guard.
The impact shatters his sword.
Fragments of corrupted steel rain across stone. He throws the useless hilt at my skull with desperate strength. The projectile passes through empty socket, striking wall behind. These bones care nothing for such desperation.
My blade continues its arc, finding his shoulder. Ancient steel bites deep, cleaving through armor, flesh, bone in one continuous motion. Black ichor fountains as the sword nearly separates arm from torso. The limb hangs by threads of gristle and corrupted sinew. He roars, corruption magic exploding outward in concussive wave.
The blast sends deeper cracks through my chest plates, shattering segments of spine between vertebrae. Dragon bone turns to powder where corruption touches. The Platform beneath fractures further. Yet still these borrowed bones hold their form.
The platform lurches violently. Great chunks of stone break away, plummeting into lava. The Duke stumbles, his wounded leg finding no purchase on crumbling rock. His remaining sword sweeps wild arcs, trying to keep me back. Panic replaces confidence in his movements. He knows what comes.
I advance through his guard. My free hand catches his blade between palm bones. The edge cuts deep, nearly severing fingers. With a flex of ancient strength, I snap the weapon in two. The broken half spins away, disappearing into molten depths. His helm meets my skull again with desperate force, but this time I grab his throat before he can withdraw.
Skeletal fingers dig into armor joints. His corrupted plate crumples. He claws at my arm, corruption magic eating through bone. Entire sections fall away, exposing the blue white energy that powers these borrowed bones.
These chosen bones know their purpose. Even as fragments fall away, my grip remains absolute.
"Impossible," he chokes out. "I killed you."
Aeternus rises. The blade's runes pulse with newfound power, drinking in the Duke's essence. His struggles intensify. Legs kick against my frame. Wings burst from his back in last desperate attempt to escape. Their membrane tears against bone protrusions. Risen strength proves greater than demon might.
I attack.
The blade enters beneath his helm, angled upward. Steel parts corrupt flesh. Brain matter sizzles against ancient runes. His remaining eye bulges, then ruptures. The blade continues through crown, emerging from helm in fountain of black ichor.
His head rolls across cracking stone. The body stands a moment longer, arms twitching in death spasms. It topples backward into churning lava. The impact sends molten rock splashing upward, droplets hissing against exposed bone. Black blood steams against molten stone, corruption fighting fire.
The platform gives one final shudder. What remains of stone begins to fall away in chunks. I turn, calculating distance to stable ground. Marnac's laughter echoes as his demons finally reach our position.
Time to finish this. These bones know there can be no survivors.
The platform continues to crumble beneath titan feet. Marnac's remaining demons land around me, their claws seeking purchase on unstable stone. Through gaps in my armor, corruption from the Duke's final strikes spreads across bone. Marrow turns gray where infection touches. Joints stiffen.
No matter. These chosen bones know worse pain.
A scaled horror lunges from my right, its needle teeth seeking joints between plates. I intercept it mid leap, skeletal fingers punching through its chest with enough force to exit spine. The creature's vertebrae separate as I use its body to batter aside two more attackers. Its corpse becomes flail, each impact leaving bloody smears across demonic forms. All three tumble into the lava below, their screams lost in bubbling death.
Marnac descends in triumphant spiral, dark magic crackling around his horned form. Power siphoned from the Duke's death warps reality around him. The air itself bends with each wingbeat.
"The Duke falls! Now his power flows to a new master!"
His words mean nothing to these bones. Borrowed purpose serves no demon's ambition.
A winged terror dives from above. Its talons find my shoulder, tearing loose plates of dragon bone. Gaps in armor widen. I grab its leg before it can retreat, yanking it earthward with enough force to separate limb from body. The creature crashes to stone, wings broken. Before it can rise, my foot crushes its skull to paste.
More demons press their attack, sensing advantage in my damaged state. Blade limbs scrape against ancient armor. Poison fangs seek gaps between plates. Claws tear at exposed bone. I respond with my remaining arm, each blow sending broken bodies into the churning lava. Their frames dissolve on contact, corruption no match for purifying flame.
The platform continues to disintegrate. Chunks of stone break away with each step. Soon nothing will remain. Marnac's forces grow desperate, their attacks becoming wild and uncoordinated. Where Aeternus strikes, demons fall. Where skeletal fist lands, bodies break.
A demon captain, its helm crowned with hooked horns, swings a massive chain flail. Barbed links whistle through air. The weapon wraps around my sword arm, barbed links biting deep into bone. Marrow cracks beneath spiked balls. It pulls with enhanced strength, trying to drag me off balance.
Instead, I step into the tension, my free hand grabbing the chain near its base. The metal links cut bone to marrow. No matter. One sharp yank brings the captain within reach, his momentum working against him. My forehead meets its helm with a sound like thunder. Metal caves inward, crushing the skull beneath. Brain matter and corruption mix, leaking from eye slits.
"Enough!" Marnac roars. His voice shakes remaining stone.
Dark lightning arcs from his claws, striking my chest. The impact sends deeper cracks through my plates. Bone fragments scatter across stone. "You are just another dead thing!"
His remaining minions fall back as he lands before me. Corruption pulses around his form, feeding on the Duke's lingering power. Each step leaves smoldering footprints in stone. His frame swells, muscles bulging as stolen essence flows through corrupted veins.
I meet his charge head on. No retreat. No hesitation. My fist crashes into his jaw with the force of avalanche. Teeth explode from helm slits. Black blood sprays in wide arc. His claws rake my ribs in return, tearing loose fragments of bone. Entire sections of chest plate fall away. The platform's edge crumbles beneath our struggle.
We grapple at the precipice, strength against strength, monster against monster. His corruption magic eats through my frame. My ancient purpose drives his essence back. Neither yields.
His wings beat furiously, trying to lift us both away from danger.
My weight proves too great even for enhanced strength. Instead, he headbutts my skull with horned crown, leaving deep grooves in ancient bone.
My free hand finds his throat, fingers digging into corrupt flesh.
The last section of platform begins to give way. Lava churns hungrily below, casting everything in hellish light. Marnac's remaining forces scatter, abandoning their master to save themselves. Their loyalty means less than survival.
He tears at my chest plates with renewed desperation, ripping away layers of armor. Corruption spreads through exposed bone, turning white to ash gray. Joints creak under spreading taint. No matter. These chosen bones know their purpose. That purpose outlasts corruption.
My grip tightens. His struggles grow frantic. Claws scrabble at bone arm. Wings beat chaotically against frame. Black blood runs between skeletal fingers as his throat begins to collapse. His eyes widen as claws find critical gap in my defense. The corruption magic burrows deep.
The damage means nothing. Only the kill matters.
With the last of my strength, I lift him from his feet. His wings beat uselessly against my frame. Recognition dawns in eyes. Horror replaces triumph as I step toward the lava's edge.
"You cannot," he starts.
My response is silence. Purpose needs no words.
I plunge us both over the side.
Heat beyond measure engulfs my arm as we break the molten surface. Metal melts. Bone blackens instantly. Marnac thrashes with unholy strength, his screams turning to gurgles as liquid rock fills his throat. Wings ignite, membrane curling to ash in seconds. My bones begin to crack and splinter under heat, yet still I push him deeper.
Corruption touched flesh melts away. Armor plates run. His struggles weaken as lava fills every orifice. Through hollow sockets, I watch his form dissolve, corruption no match for primal fire. Only when the last bubble of air escapes his lips do I release my grip.
My arm is nearly destroyed, bone turned black and brittle by the lava's touch. Segments crumble away, returning to elements. I drag myself back onto what remains of stable ground, frame severely damaged.
No matter. The magic will draw new strength from fallen foes. These chosen bones will rebuild.
Purpose endures.