The captives had been rescued and the prison hall cleared, leaving only Aldric and his soldiers. As much as it stunned him, he still couldn't believe they had managed to save the people so efficiently and in such a short time frame at that. If it weren't for Quinn and her unique way of thinking and creativity, and of course, her powerful magic, they would still be on horseback and traversing through the dangerous terrain of Norsewood. By the time they finally arrived weeks later, perhaps half of the soldiers would have succumbed to the horrid weather or fallen prey to monsters. As for the civilians, he doubted they'd be able to save even half as most would have been slaughtered during the chaos that would ensue.
Aldric led the way forward and marched through the extensive hole, just as the sounds of guards shouting and bells ringing echoed from the distance.
"About time I give those bastards a taste of my fists," Juan said, "as a thank you for keeping me and my men here against our will and beating the heaven out of our lives. I've been holding myself back since the first night I woke up here." He followed Aldric, as did the others.
Behind them, Liam drew out his sword, too, hesitantly, and Theo said, "I'll watch your back. Don't hesitate to shout for help if you need any."
Liam nodded. "Thanks, Theo." And the two followed the others into the corridor where an all-out, one-sided annihilation was already starting.
At the front, Aldric marched, his face a hard mask, as a group of guards sprinted toward him, screaming their intention to attack. He raised his hand as a circle appeared in front of them. He said, "Fire blast!"
A ball of fire came flying out of the circle and hit the group before they could even register what was going on, blowing them back and setting them on fire, killing them on the spot. The group behind saw the carnage, their eyes wide in shocked surprise as terror set in, and they started running back toward the exit, shouting, "Intruders! Intruders! Kill them all! Kill all the intruders!"
Vincent snorted and said, "Kill all the intruders? But you're running away, you lousy guards. Sorry, but it's you lot who's going to the netherworld first." He raised his hand and summoned his circle, which was attached with a magical bow and arrow. He pulled the string, releasing the arrow into the air. The glowing white-hot flame flung across the distance, hitting smack-dab on the group, killing them with a burst of electrical shock on the spot. He chuckled. "I still haven't a clue what this so-called electric magic is, but it is very useful."
Behind Vincent, a soldier said to his peer, "Electric magic. Isn't it something like Lord Aldric's lightning?"
Another said, "Is there such thing as an electrical magic?"
A third said, "I've never heard of it either. I, however, have a strong feeling we'll be discovering rarer, unheard of types of elemental magic in the future."
From behind, Theo slapped his hands on the soldiers' shoulders and said, "Lads, perhaps less chatting and more fighting? We can't possibly leave it all to Lord Aldric and Captain Vincent. Look, even young Liam is doing his best." He nodded to Liam who was blasting out fireballs at the oncoming guards. "That's his fifth lot, you know."
The soldiers shifted their gaze over to their lord Aldric who was currently smashing a bunch of their enemies with his mighty fist as he released a burst of some strange magical energy they had never seen before without summoning a circle, blasting the guards back, killing them as they went flying and crashed against the walls of corridors and then landed on the ground. Near him, the younger brother, Lord Juan, was effortlessly sending his fist at their enemies, while swinging his mighty sword with his other hand, slicing more down.
"We should indeed do less chatting," one said and charged forward, summoning his circle. The rest followed as they roared out war cries and summoned their magic.
Theo shook his head as he said, "Youngsters these days." Then he, too, brought on his magic and discharged a blast of roaring fire at the oncoming guards.
Since he had taken Lady Quinn's magical pills, Theo had felt much stronger and more alive than ever. After all, at the age of forty-five, he had thought he had reached the limit as a warrior knight. Not so, however, as he realized he could now do the things he had desired to do but couldn't; he had the strength and ability to annihilate high-tier monsters solo and go against powerful enemies. After all, he was blessed with not only Tigen, the God of Fire, but Arena for health as well as Anir for good fortune and Ridall for learning and education. Not to mention a high affinity with wind as well as ice magic. Indeed, he was sending the latter out now, his circle spitting out ice lances at the oncoming guards running and screaming toward them.
He chuckled as he shook his head. What a foolish lot to be charging into death. The Norsewood soldiers' numbers might be small, but they were mighty, and even more so now that they were armed with not only their strength and fighting prowess, but their newly discovered magic, too. These guards stood no chance.
Indeed, the group lost their lives even before they could get a glimpse of the commander behind the assault, for the soldiers had already sent out their fireballs, burning them alive and killing them on the spot.
At the head, Aldric exited the corridor, followed by Juan, Vincent, Liam, Theo, and the soldiers. They came to the clearing, an enormous field of courtyard that was surrounded by flanking walls of the mountain, and across were the entrances and exits of mining caves. Stairs, made of wood as well as carved from the earth of the mountain itself, rose from the ground up five or six floors above and connected via bridges that crisscrossed one side to the other. All around were guards, hundreds of them, their armor on and weapons out, and they rushed about, shouting, "Intruders! Intruders!" as the bells continued to ring, echoing ear-piercingly loud across the space.
Aldric scanned his surroundings, his eyes sharp and his senses alert, taking in every minute detail as was his habit during a battle. He shifted his gaze up to a man standing on the fifth floor on a bridge, and he instinctively knew the bastard was the commander of this fort.
Releasing murderous aura, he gazed hard at the man who was undoubtedly a noble with a blessing. He raised his sword in the air and pointed at the bastard whom he could sense was sneering down at him from the great height. Suddenly, the man barked out orders, pointing down at Aldric, "Kill him! Kill him! He's the leader. He's Aldric Templeton! Kill Aldric Templeton!"
So you know me, Aldric thought and knew all this was more than met the eye. He knew the bastard was more than met the eye. He turned to his men and shouted, "Brace yourself. You have my permission to use whatever means to kill. Not one of these bastards is allowed to escape alive."
The war cry came, hundreds of guards charging with their weapons out in front of them. They were leering and sneering and grinning, knowing their complete and utter victory, for their numbers were large, more than five hundred against a miserly fifty. Their sense of conquest, however, didn't last long when Aldric summoned his magic and took out his lightning whip. If the glow and turn of the ancient magic circle didn't faze and terrified them, then the whip surely did as he lashed it out, sending sparks of lightning across the distance, zapping one man after another consecutively and quickly at the speed of light, killing them instantaneously.
Vincent brought out his electric bow and arrow next, shooting across the distance, blasting a bunch at the back, burning them to death. Theo sent out his flame, an inferno hell of fire that burned about twenty dead within a few minutes. When Liam summoned his circle and spit out his fireballs, screams of fear and terror were already loud and echoing across the place, with some running for their lives.
"Ancient magic!" they screamed. "It's the fearsome, blasphemous magic!"
Aldric leaped high into the air and then landed on the ground again as he swung his sword, slicing and dicing about ten men in the process, with them falling to the ground, dead. He fought, effortlessly shifting his mighty sword, the beautiful brand-new one Darell had forged for him with his newly discovered blacksmithing magic, while at the same time releasing his lightning whip, with sparks ripping through the air and killing those within an inch of its presence. Within no time, hundreds of guards lay dead on the ground around him and his soldiers, and as more came running toward them, while some sprinting away in the opposite direction in fear of their lives, Aldric and his men went all out, fighting, swinging their swords, and summoning their elemental magic.
Above on the bridge, Lord Malcolm Hurston, the fort commander, stared down below him in disbelief. He was shocked into numbness as one question after another screamed in his head.
How? How did that bastard Aldric Templeton, his sworn enemy, find out about this place? How did he do that magic? And his men? No one except for the royalties, the nobles, and elites were blessed with magic, yet...
Those soldiers. They were mere commoners. So how in the hell could they be using magic? And such very powerful magic at that?
He glanced from one to the other as rage ripped through his veins. Even that inexperienced one was using magic with ease, firing out balls of flame that killed many of his guards.
How?
"Blasphemy!" the high priest Ivor said. "'Tis blasphemy that commoners be using such high-power magic. 'Tis atrocious! They will taint our pure world with the blasphemy magic. We must stop them. We must kill them all! 'Tis apostasy!"
"My lord! My lord!" a guard called as he sprinted across the bridge.
"What is it?" Malcolm demanded in irritation.
The guards came to a stop, panting from exertion. He said, "My lord, they've slaughtered over half of our guards and..."
Malcolm narrowed his eyes and snapped, "What? What is it?"
The guard swallowed hard and then said, "The captives, my lord. The slaves. They're... all gone."
Malcolm widened his eyes, and his face grew red with fury. He stepped forward, and grabbing the collar of the guard, he shouted, "What the fuck do you mean, gone? What do you mean?"
"My lord, they're just gone. Not one in the prison hall is left."
Malcolm released the guard and shoved him away, as if in disgust, his mind racing as his face started to turn pale, draining of blood, a sickening feeling lurching his stomach. He raked his fingers through his hair as he finally understood what happened here.
He shifted his gaze to Aldric Templeton, the bastard he had had an eye on to destroy for years. Now, here he was, ruining everything, the very foundation of his future he had worked so hard on building.
This fort was his after he had begged on his knees to not only his uncle the Duke of Radnor, but King Henry, too, to take over. What they discovered down there was his and his alone.
"Aldric, you bastard," he said through gritted teeth. "I have to kill you here and now." He turned to Ivor and commanded, "Release the monsters."
Instead of shock or concern, Ivor wore a delighted expression on his face. He asked, "Release the monsters? And what of the dragon, my lord?"
Malcolm said, his eyes intense, "The dragon, too. I want to see the despair on Aldric's face."
Like the despair he had seen on Aldric's face four years ago. Like the despair he would have expressed when he had returned to Norsewood and saw the devastation after the raid.
"The monsters and the dragon," Ivor said. He bowed. "As your command, my lord." He turned on his heel and headed away, a grin on his face.
It had been a little over four years since they had released the dragon under the command of King Henry. The last it had gone wild, freely roaming the sky and annihilating everything in its path, it had been under the control of the high priest Morgan, now a grand master priest and King Henry's most trusted advisor. Now that Ivor was in Morgan's shoes, filling the role of master over the monsters and dragon, he could not wait to release it and test his controlling ability, his magic.
Rubbing his hands together in glee, he wasted no time in making his way down to the lower level. In the monsters' prison, he shouted his command to the guards. "Release them! Release them all! The enemies are killing our people! We must release these monsters and take our revenge!"
Guards hastily unlocked and opened the cells door, and within minutes, the corridors and stairs were filled with monsters piling out. Growling and screeching filled the air.
Ivor went farther down to the lowest floor, deeper and darker, an immense dungeon prison cave that held captive a behemoth of an ancient dragon with a sword—Aldric Templeton's sword—stuck in one of its eyes. There it lay in slumber, under Ivor's control, and now, it was time to release the magic.
"Rise, my child, rise," Ivor said, his heart beating hard and furious in excitement.