Between Wilamena, the power of the magical council, and the immense strength of the Wibberly siblings, the ghosts were methodically being destroyed and the tide of the battle was turning. Leaving Gabriel to complete a mission of his own - getting rid of Rourke and leaving the enemy army without leadership.
He dashed through the streets, now torn up by the blades of imps and screechers, stained with black monster blood and worse, the red blood of the living. Gabriel felt himself tighten at the sight. There was a debt to be owed for all this suffering. It was time for Rourke to meet his reckoning.
He spotted the bald giant far away from the danger to his ghostly form. Gabriel felt anger then. A true warrior was on the front lines, fighting alongside his comrades until the war was won or they all fell. To see Rourke hiding like a coward filled him with deep rage.
His hands curled into fists. He wished he could still wield an sword, but even without a weapon, he was strong, and he had been trained to be the best. It was not just the technique that mattered, but also the ability to stay calm and patient and to make actions deliberate. While anger could be a tool, he could not let it consume him like it did Rourke. That would make him sloppy.
Restraint was a gift and one that Granny Peet made sure he knew. He would practice it now as he creeped up, instead of launching himself at Rourke like a fool.
The man called the Dire Magnus's right hand did not see him coming, nor hear him, not until Gabriel was mere feet away and in the stance of battle. He turned and masked his surprise with a short, bitter laugh, "why lad, I thought after you and your protégés failure earlier, you wouldn't be back anytime soon."
Gabriel replied evenly, "and I thought you embraced the fight instead of hiding away like a coward. I suppose we were both mistaken."
Rourke growled and Gabriel hid his satisfaction. He was preying on the giant's weakness, turning his anger issues from something that gave him power, into something that made him foolish and failing.
"You know what," Rourke said boisterously, "I know you're already dead. But that's not going to stop me from attempting to rip off your head."
Gabriel didn't give him the reward of a reaction. He had been prepared for something like this. Instead he merely held up his arms to block Rourke's first punch. The fist contacted with his crossed forearms, which hurt, but less than being punched in the nose. Though he knew the pain was only an illusion, that didn't mean he wanted to feel it.
"Oh come on lad, can't you take a hit?" Rourke goaded.
"I can, I just am not stupid enough to," Gabriel replied, enraging the man even more. Rourke had never been one to take insults lightly. He grabbed Gabriel's arm and twisted.
The warrior's ghostly form contorted with the twist, and he used it as an opportunity to kick Rourke in the back of the knee. He stumbled, releasing Gabriel in the process. The warrior then delivered another blow, knocking Rourke to his knees.
Rourke spat his next words angrily, "you really think you're going to win this?"
"You know what," Gabriel replied, using his boot to shove Rourke into the ground, "I really do."
Rourke struggled for a moment, but then surprisingly went limp. He yelled out something like, "what's going on!?"
Gabriel looked down at him, only to see he was fading away, leaving the world of the living almost as if - almost as if the Dire Magnus's power was not around to keep him there.
All across the battlefield, the same thing was happening to the enemy ghosts, their roars of anger cut off short, their swoops interrupted midway, as they disappeared. Gabriel watched and felt all the hope and triumph in the world. Now this, this was turning the tide. This was their victory.
Then he looked down and smiled as Rourke was gone for good, just because he could.
Across the battlefield, Michael and Emma were shouting with delight. They had seen the Dire Magnus's magic die and the ghosts disappear, and they knew what it meant. Kate had won. The Dire Magnus was defeated.
"She did it," Clare marveled at the sight.
"Of course she did," Emma declared, "she's Kate. She's the greatest there is. The Dire Magnus never stood a chance."
"And without the ghosts, his monsters and screechers don't stand a chance," Michael said.
Richard replied, "does that mean the battle is won?"
"Almost, but not quite," said King Robbie, who had come over to the family's side, "we still have a few more sorcerers to arrest. And a few more monsters left to kill."
And with that, he raised his axe and barreled into a group of screechers with a loud war cry. He cleaved the first screecher in two so fiercely, the Wibberlys would know there would be no trouble in defeating the monsters.
All around, Michael could see signs of victory in their reach. Dena sliced through imps with ease, the magical council bound the enemy wizards in thread that restricted their magic, and the only ghosts in sight were their allies.
They really had pulled this off. Together.
With the disappearance of the ghosts, Wilamena had no need for her astral form any longer, so the great dragon had vanished and the princess had come out of her trance. She cheered from the balconies of the Rose Citadel, knowing that her dear friends had saved the day once more.
Wilamena looked at the horizon, where the sun was rising over the water. It was a perfect metaphor, she thought with joy. Though the night and the battle had been long, the sun and the hope always returned. Even when she could count on nothing else, she could count on that, and she could count on her friends.
A/N: This was a shorter chapter but it was needed to a. get rid of Rourke (YAY!) and b. wrap up the battle. So yeah, more of a filler than anything, but a necessary filler.