Realms of Magic: Demon Invasion

61. Betrayal

I know that spiky, brown hair. The short and gentle stature.

Darryl.

And suddenly the air feels much colder. My hands shiver. My breath is freezing. Before I know it, my face falls onto my hands.

Darryl? Darryl?

So he's lying all this time? All those kind words, all those gentle manners? And now he's the Puppeteer?

Why?

Why Darryl? The only person I–I have ever fallen in love with.

Aelita's warmer hands snap me out. "Vio!" she gasps. "Calm down! There must be an explanation!"

"Explanation?" I mutter. "There is no explanation. It is a personal betrayal."

I clench my own fist tightly, refusing Aelita's opened palm. My teeth bite into my lips. "Summon: Undead Turtle!" Lord Abel summons a giant turtle, its flesh decaying. It fires a strong beam from its mouth, which Darryl avoids by leaping.

"Art of Puppets: Beacons of Light!"

Three pillars, blinding with white light, fall upon the turtle, breaking its shell. The pillars spit out orbs of light.

Lord Abel flicks his hand, an undead wyvern covering him as the orbs explode simultaneously.

"I think I know how Lady Caitlyn lost. You truly are more powerful than we expected."

"You sent one of your weakest to make me put my guard down and assassinate me, didn't you?" Darryl replies. "Foolish."

"Just trying to tie up loose ends. Our loss was severe, but it doesn't matter anymore. I will end you here, King of the Stars."

King of the Stars? Darryl's a vampire king?

Wow. This dude is good at hiding secrets.

"I will protect my people," Darryl says stiffly, his soft tone gone. "Art of Puppets: Grand Warden!"

A humanoid puppet emerges, cloaked in purple tunic. Its head is a deformed bull's head, its arms swords. Lord Abel raises his staff, creating an army of skeleton soldiers burrowing from the underground.

Darryl's puppet smashes through the lines of soldiers, its rotating blades cutting down their ranks. Lord Abel extends his palm. "Bone Golem!"

A golem falls from the sky, crushing the puppet. A scathed gemstone returns to Darryl's hand.

"Ice Wyrm!" A snake-like creature of pure ice entangles the golem, shattering it into pieces.

"He's strong," John murmurs. "Vio, what will we do?"

My mouth freezes. I don't want to talk. I can't even think.

"Vio!" Aelita snaps. "You lead this team. I know it's hard, but you must–we'll die here otherwise."

I stare into her trembling eyes of blue. She's right. I have them. I have my friends.

And I will protect them.

"We can't abandon the mission just like that," I say. "Looking at the situation, they look pretty much equal, but Lord Abel's a little bit stronger, I think."

"Okay. So what are we doing?"

"We wait it out. Probably better if we were to back off a few kilometres. I don't know who Darryl exactly is, or to whom his allegiance lays, but a probably-an-ally is better than an enemy is. If things look too bad, we'll intervene against Lord Abel."

"Okay. Good plan. Good to see you–er–back."

I nod. "John, you go over there," I say, pointing at a particularly tall tree.

"Succubi Flute Technique!" Three undead succubi stand in front of Lord Abel, a wooden flute in each of their pair of hands.

"Art of Puppets: Emerald Marionette: Hail of Poison Daggers!"

Darryl's puppet torpedoes thousands of needles from its body. The succubi play their flutes, creating a shockwave that repels the needles. A giant hand punches the puppet from above. Another cracked gemstone returns to Darryl's hand.

"Living Puppet: Twin Menace."

Lucas and Logan. I know those two blondes. The puppets that Darryl pulls out look very much like them, and have a strange stench; just like dead bodies.

"Those are corpses!" Aelita mutters.

"They're corpses?" I mutter back. "Impossible! Puppet magic users have to craft their own puppets to use, don't they?"

"I mean, as long as I remember from the books, corpses can't just be turned to puppets," Aelita whispers.

"So we're not so different, after all, King Darryl," Lord Abel comments. "What experiment have you done to turn corpses to puppets?"

"Vampires' Third Eye comes in a myriad of abilities, Lord Abel. And I would do anything to protect my realm and my people, were that not clear enough."

"Fair enough."

The two puppets rain down the barrier of sound with flame arrows and ice spikes. The barrier breaks and the spikes impale the succubi.

Lord Abel waves his staff. Hundreds of thousands of skeleton warriors with bone blades crack open the crust of the Earth, flooding the battlefield.

"Ice Mantle!" A small sphere of ice encases Darryl with spikes on it.

Although fire waves and rain of ice sweep through the icy lands, the packed skeletons finally slaughter through the two puppets. Darryl leaps into a tree as his mantle is struck.

"Art of Puppets: Full Chess Set!"

Eight pillars surround the battlefield. Suddenly, I feel part of my magic stripped away. The skeleton army collapses. Darryl glances at our direction.

"Weakening magic," Aelita mutters.

"He noticed us."

As Darryl unleashes his gemstones, two golden hawks land on his shoulders. Two giant monoliths appear behind him. Flanking him are two iron golems with lances and shields. A six metre tall female puppet protects him in the front.

"You have this ace up your sleeves and you can afford to hold it back for this long?" Lord Abel shouts. "Very well."

An even more powerful aura spills from Lord Abel. It must be his second transformation.

"Heah!" Tens of dragons emerge from the ground and the sky. The iron golems form a shield. The monoliths emit a green light.

Two green plasma beams are fired from the monoliths, demolishing the dragons. The iron golems leap a great distance.

Lord Abel jumps backwards, a trap of bones sprung, impaling the golems. He dashes forward, his staff aimed upwards.

Darryl's presence becomes that of a ghost, his aura very pale. The staff simply passes through him. The hawks' eyes glow green.

The monoliths charge once again. Lord Abel steps on the ground, great tremors coming from underneath. A massive undead tiger mauls the two monoliths. The female puppet thrusts its sword at it and summons four giant energy swords, pinning it down.

An undead snake strikes from behind, ripping off the puppet's left arm. "Dance of Bones!"

I have the same spell at my arsenal, but looking at his makes mine look pitiful. Millions of pipe bones rain down from the sky, forming a rare smirk on Lord Abel's face.

"Living Puppet: ...."