Victor of Tucson-Chapter 17Book 10: : Triumphant Return

17 – Triumphant Return

As a horrific scream split the air, Victor pushed his curse to the back of his mind and hefted Lifedrinker, looking up to the box where Lohanse struggled against King Bayle and his six remaining defenders. He could see smoldering body parts scattered over the sands and figured they were Bayle’s fallen guards. Even so, Lohanse seemed pressed; Bayle and his guardians had to be steel seekers to put up such a fight against the veil walker.

It wasn’t lost on Victor that he hadn’t received any Energy for killing Loss Chenasta. Did the System consider him a part of the ongoing battle? Was it waiting to see if he’d join in? Victor grinned, ignoring the pain in his chest as he glanced at his Core. It was rapidly recovering—close to ten percent full already. He twisted his hands on Lifedrinker’s haft, bunched his legs, and used Titanic Leap to send him into the fray.

As luck would have it, Lohanse was fighting defensively, his back to the stands, moving up, row by row, as the king and his men pushed him. Naturally, this put their backs to Victor, and he took full advantage, coming down like a screaming, axe-wielding comet falling from the heavens. Lifedrinker’s edge split one of Bayle’s guardians from shoulder to crotch. The man’s armor screamed as her edge peeled through it, and he managed a tortured scream before his body fell away in two pieces.

The battle was chaotic, with lightning, blades, fire, and all manner of Energy abilities exploding in the air like a fireworks display set ablaze—another advantage for Victor. The King didn’t realize one of his flanks had been exposed by Victor’s decisive stroke, and Victor knew how to capitalize on the momentum. He whipped Lifedrinker up, her blade dripping gore and trailing stolen Energy, and brought her around in a terrible sideways cleave, aiming to relieve the rebelling monarch of his lower half.

Lifedrinker’s edge hit something in the air, an orange-tinted shield of Energy, and she slowed while Victor strained. His shoulders and arms, his back and legs—every muscle in his body exploded with effort, straining like great, rippling pythons under his flesh as he pushed Lifedrinker forward, inexorably carving a path through Bayle’s steel-seeker-level personal protection spell.

“My flank! Guard me!” Bayle shrieked, and then two of his guards broke off from pressing Lohanse to dash toward Victor, one with a halberd and the other wielding a greatsword. Victor wouldn’t be dissuaded from his goal; he meant to put Lifedrinker’s edge into Bayle’s flesh no matter the cost. He cast Roots of the Angry Mountain, and then he cast Voice of the Angry Earth as he let his aura loose and roared, “Back off!”

To his glee, both guards—steel seekers!—stopped, and one fell to his knees, his sword clattering on the spell-blasted marble as he slapped his hands to his ears. Meanwhile, Victor pushed, and Lifedrinker bit further through Bayle’s magical shield. The King stepped toward Lohanse, perhaps driven by Victor’s pressure or the stone-shattering sound of his voice, but the veil walker was there, slapping aside the other guard’s attacks and pressing against Bayle’s defenses.

The king wielded a huge, thick shield and a one-handed, broad-bladed sword. The shield had to be some sort of artifact because despite Lohanse’s mighty attacks—lightning bolts and hammer blows—it kept the king safe. Victor couldn’t concentrate on that, though, as his world narrowed to focus on the herculean effort of breaking Bayle’s other line of defense: his magical Energy barrier. Lifedrinker screamed her fury and eagerness to break through, and Victor watched as her brilliant edge crackled with Energy—it burst away from her in little explosions and arcs of lightning. He could only imagine the pressure along her magnificent edge.

One of the king’s guardians had regained his will and smashed his halberd toward Victor’s unarmored neck. Victor dipped his shoulder and tilted his head, letting his Crown of the Dark Colossus take the halberd’s edge. The impact rang like a church bell, and the enormous force of the blow might have thrown Victor back, but his Roots of the Angry Earth was in full effect, and he didn’t move an inch. Instead, his attacker’s weapon rebounded wildly, flying back over the guard’s shoulder and carrying him with it for several steps, giving Victor another moment to focus on his efforts.

“Let’s go!” he roared and drove with everything he had. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he had enough Energy to cast Iron Berserk, but some stubborn part of him wanted to break that damnable barrier without it. Lifedrinker was game, and as his muscles strained like never before, she finally broke free of the resistance. Bayle’s Energy barrier came apart like a bomb going off. The waves of force rolled over Victor without moving him, thanks to his roots. Sure, his flesh was burned and torn by the power, but he didn’t move.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the blast and held onto Lifedrinker as her sudden explosion of forward momentum threatened to pull her from his grasp. She found her mark, though, biting through Bayle’s thick, gem-studded armor and digging her hungry blade into the flesh above his hip. His armor wasn’t useless; it slowed her enough to keep her from carving him in twain, but she dug in, and Victor felt her ecstasy as she dragged torrents of Energy out of the king and into herself.

He let go of her and whirled on the two guards, again pressing an attack. With his Gauntlets of the Mountain’s Might clenched in enormous metalline fists, he ducked under a greatsword cleave and darted forward, inside the halberd’s reach. Then he punched upward with everything he had, catching the halberd-wielding guardian under the chin. The man’s jawbone and teeth shattered, his eyes instantly rolled back, and he fell—a tree cut free of its roots.

Victor felt the lust of battle and the madness of glory overcoming him. He laughed, darting toward the sword wielder as the steel seeker retreated, his eyes wide, dancing from Victor to his king—now on his knees, coughing blood as Lifedrinker wormed her massive blade deeper and deeper—to his fellow guardians, only two of whom were still standing. Their lives were measured in seconds as Lohanse finished them one by one.

Seeing the end of the battle at hand, Victor burned his Energy again, casting Velocity Mantle to keep his quarry from escaping. He exploded with speed, and then, from the man’s flank, he delivered a flurry of terrible blows, crunching armor like it was aluminum and shattering bones like they were glass. As Bayle’s last guardian fell, coughing blood, Victor delivered a decisive finishing blow to the side of his helmeted head. The gauntlets amplified his already prodigious strength; he might as well have been swinging a wrecking ball, considering how the man’s skull came apart.

Victor turned to see Lohanse standing before Bayle, his hands gripping both sides of the king’s head. “As decreed by the ancient laws of Ruhnic Conquest, you will accept the terms of your champion’s challenge. Death.” With that, Lohanse’s hands exploded with lighting, and Bayle’s head smoldered, blackened, and dissolved—ash blowing in the wind whipped up by Lohanse’s spell.

Lohanse surveyed the scene, and so did Victor. The crowd had fled the battle, pushing their way up and to the sides of the stadium, piling on top of each other in their haste to escape. Victor looked across the arena to see Queen Kynna and her retinue still there. Arona was standing, her eyes bright with brilliant Energy, and she didn’t look happy. Had she wanted to join the fray? Victor could see why the queen would hold her back. The battle would have been catastrophic if everyone piled in—thousands of high-level iron rankers and hundreds of steel seekers. Besides, Victor and Lohanse had made quick work of the rebellion.

“You’ve done well to exact the justice of the duel, Victor. You may claim your prize.” As he spoke, Lohanse none-too-subtly nudged one of King Bayle’s hands with his foot, tapping his silver-slippered toe on a thick ring resting on the giant king’s thumb.

Victor thought about it briefly, then said, “I want Chenasta’s heart, too.”

Lohanse shrugged. “Two fights, two rewards. I will allow it.”

Victor smiled and ducked his head—the closest he ever intended to come to bowing again—then bent to pull Lifedrinker from the corpse of the fallen king. “Good work, beautiful.”

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Mmph, the battle is done, and I will rest. Thank you for the feast, Gore-king.

Victor chuckled, sending her into his new, spacious storage ring. Then he squatted to pull Bayle’s ring from his thumb. It was large and heavy, made of something that looked like gold but was even denser. “A storage ring?”

“Aye, explore it later in private.” He gestured to the fallen bodies. “Your Energy will be upon you soon. Quite a haul, I’d imagine. You helped to slay four steel seekers, though the king…” Lohanse shook his head, clicking his tongue. “The king was close to a veil walker. These others were no champions, but with him to lead the charge—suffice to say, I felt some pressure.” He nodded down to the arena sands. “That one was something else. I thought you would die for a moment, but yet again, you surprised me.”

Victor reflexively touched his chest, feeling the sting of the tiny void on his middle finger. Lohanse followed the movement, and his eyes narrowed. “Still troubled by Chenasta’s attack, I see. Don’t let it linger, Victor. That man held a disturbing level of power for a steel seeker. I sensed death and void in him—a deadly combination.”

Victor nodded, frowning. Death again—would Death Casters ever cease to trouble him? The air brightened, and he looked down to see glittering silver-hued balls of potent Energy rising from the corpses. A glance to the arena showed him a similar sight near the wreckage of the wall where Chenasta lay buried under the rubble. The crowd had begun to clamor, shouting and screaming, some even cheering, and Lohanse spoke over the noise. “While you’re struck dumb by this Energy, I’ll calm this rabble and clear the arena. Luck to you, Victor.”

He timed his words perfectly because Victor barely opened his mouth to reply when a torrent of Energy slammed into him, lifting him high off the cracked, burned arena stands. He spread his arms, soaking it in, luxuriating in the ecstasy of the healing, replenishing influx. His mind wandered of his own volition for a change, and he thought about King Bayle and his attempt to escape. Why hadn’t he just run? Why attack Lohanse? Victor had a feeling Lohanse had locked the space down, preventing teleportation.

It made sense, then, why the king and his men would try to kill the veil walker. If they could take him out before others arrived to help, they could try to flee. How confident Bayle must have been in his champion! Victor could only imagine the man’s horror when he’d suddenly expanded into the shape of a gigantic, frost-rimed titan. The king’s world must have shattered before his eyes when he saw Victor’s domain of inspiration and then witnessed Lifedrinker destroying Loss Chenasta.

Even as he hung there, infused with Energy, radiating pleasure at both the physical renewal and the mental savoring of his victory, Victor felt a nagging needle of pain in his chest. It gave everything a bit of a sour taste, like eating an apple, savoring the sweetness as you swallow, only to find a spot of rot in the core—the corpse of a worm or bug. With that unsettling image fresh in his mind, he fell to the ground and blinked, peering at the bright sky and taking in the silent arena.

Lohanse hadn’t lied about his intentions; there was no one present. The platform where he’d helped to kill King Bayle was cleared of bodies, though blood and charred marble remained. Victor grunted, climbing to his feet, and then he saw the System messages blinking in the corner of his eye. He focused on them:

***Congratulations! You have achieved level 84 Warlord and gained 48 intelligence and 34 vitality.***

***Congratulations! You have earned a Class spell: Tactical Reposition – Basic.***

***Tactical Reposition – Basic: Casting this spell will allow you to move yourself or a nearby ally to a position within your line of sight. The movement is near-instantaneous and will ignore terrain and enemy interference. This spell cannot be used to move into other objects that occupy the same space. Cooldown: Long. Energy Cost: 10,000.***

Victor read the announcement that he’d gained two levels several times and then the spell description twice. He wondered how much he could credit to King Bayle. He chuckled, grateful that the ruler had decided to try to fight his way out of the challenge terms. Instead of one steel-seeker kill, he’d gotten to help with an additional four others.

“So, what the hell?” he asked the empty air. “I can teleport now?” He focused his gaze down on the sands where the remains of Loss Chenasta awaited and cast his new spell. A torrent of Energy rushed into the spell pattern, and the world shifted. Suddenly, he stood on the sand near the wall. “Holy shit!” He laughed, clapping his hands. “Badass!” Almost subconsciously, he reached up to itch his chest and then cussed, pulling his fingers away. “Pinché, son of a bitch! This goddamn curse!”

He looked down through his ruined shirt and saw the tiny mote of blackness swirling there. He stared for several seconds, peering closely at how it consumed his flesh, fighting against his regeneration. He wasn’t certain, but it seemed like it might be a tiny bit bigger than when he’d looked earlier—after killing Chenasta. “Speaking of,” he grunted, moving over to the rubble. He grabbed two-hundred-pound stones and tossed them like playthings, uncovering the broken, smashed body of his foe.

Lifedrinker had split him right down the middle, and her enormous weight had smashed the guy into the wall so violently that most of his bones and flesh were literally a paste. Frowning in disgust, Victor pulled the fragments of his robes apart, digging through the purple-black flesh and viscous fluids, trying to find the man’s heart. “Hell no,” he grunted, trying to imagine eating the disgusting slop. Reasoning that the man had been a type of Death Caster, Victor decided to let it go; what if he’d been some undead variant? Hadn’t he learned his lesson about eating undead hearts?

Taking a few steps back, he gathered his Energy and cast Honor the Spirits instead. With a satisfied warmth in his heart, he watched his foe’s remains flare brightly, consumed by ghostly white flames. As the spirit smoke faded into nothing, Victor grunted his approval. He might not have gotten his heart, but maybe his ancestors could make use of the bastard’s foul remains. He hoped Lohanse wouldn’t be angry that he took the whole corpse and not just the heart.

Victor turned to the far side of the arena and tried to cast Tactical Reposition again, but the spell wasn’t ready. “Damn, that is a long cooldown.” While he walked, he thought about it and figured the spell’s cooldown would shorten as he improved it. If it didn’t, he could always try to make an improved variant using elder magic. Ten thousand Energy wasn’t a light cost, though; it was nearly a fifth of his total pool, and if he improved the spell with elder magic, he’d probably significantly increase the cost. “I need more Energy,” he sighed, trudging down the tunnel to his ready room.

He was almost relieved to find no one waiting for him. Lohanse had been even-tempered and patient with him, even grateful, but he was probably inwardly furious by King Bayle’s attempt to kill him. Victor could see him telling everyone to get the hell out. He chuckled, making his way to the teleportation chamber, and, with no one to say goodbye to, stepped through the portal to Iron Mountain.

Almost immediately, he was swarmed with attention. Kynna, Bryn, and Arona, along with the queen’s attendants, were all waiting in the portal chamber. They applauded, some cheered, and the queen stepped forward, her face beaming. “You made Gloria proud today, Victor! What an honor to say you bested a Great House and then aided the Grand Judicator to mete out justice! Well done, Champion!”

“Hear, hear!” Bryn cheered, and the Queensguard took up the cheer.

Victor sighed, waving his hand—half acknowledging the praise and half trying to dismiss it. “Thank you. I appreciate the love—” He absently rubbed his chest through the hole in his shirt, careful to keep from touching the void. It felt good just to massage and scratch the raw, stinging flesh around it. “—but I really need to rest after that one. I’ll go to my chambers if you all don’t need me for anything.”

“Of course!” Kynna turned and waved to her retainers and guards. “Give the champion some space. We’ll celebrate him soon with a royal feast!”

The crowd cheered again and filed out. Victor reached out to take Kynna’s wrist. “Uh, Your Majesty—” He grunted as he accidentally dragged his nail through the void. He pulled his hand away from his chest and continued, “Do you think you could send Florent to my tower? I need to speak to him about void magic.” He looked to Arona, who also stood nearby. “I need to consult you, too.”

Kynna’s dark brows narrowed. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing too serious, but I think I have some lingering effects from that pinché Void Caster’s spell.” He waved his hand. “Seriously, nothing to worry about.”

“Very well. I’ll have Florent come to see you immediately.” Kynna didn’t look happy, but Victor knew what she was thinking: anything Victor didn’t want to tell her would flow like water from a spigot out of Florent’s lips. He didn’t care; he just wanted to be spared going over the damn curse at that moment.

He nodded his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Let’s meet soon.”

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That brought a small smile to her lips, and she inclined her head. “Very well, Champion. Rest well.”

Victor waved to Arona and Bryn. “Let’s go.”

Arona frowned but nodded, and Bryn was all too happy to hurry after him as he stomped out of the portal room and stretched his long legs. He wasn’t sure why he was hurrying, but he figured that, on some level, he wanted to get his “curse of the void” looked at so he could put it out of his mind, one way or the other. He also had a king’s storage ring to examine. Why had Lohanse steered him toward it? He hoped it was more than just riches—maybe it held a natural treasure of some sort. Despite the nagging, itching pain in his chest, a grin spread on his lips, and he slowed to allow Bryn and Arona to catch up. He might be cursed, but at least he had friends.