Withering Ambition

Massacre

Warning: Graphic depictions of death

Arrows shot forth from the guard towers, hurtling towards Kaeman. He cast his hand out, and within a split second, he held an archer in front of his body, and with a wave of his hand, magical chains bound his soul to all of the guards in the towers.

The arrows pierced the forsaken archer's body, and as if he had become a voodoo doll for all of his brethren, identical wounds appeared on every single one of the guards. Pulling a blade from his hip, Kaeman slashed through the archer's heart, causing blood to be spilled from every tower, hundreds of bodies toppling to the floor.

Kaeman took hold of the magical chains and yanked his hand downwards, collapsing the towers and crushing innumerable soldiers. 

The dean cast forth a ray of light, catching Kaeman off guard and knocking him backwards. His expression turned to one of anger. He then sent his army forth, before taking hold of the Necronomicon and letting its untapped magic flow through him.

The dean struggled to hold off the advancing army, his powerful magic destroying dozens and dozens of the foes. But there seemed to always be more. He called forth his remaining archmages, to hopefully subdue the army and reach Kaeman before he became too powerful. 

Kaeman's arm rapidly withered away, more and more dark magic flowing through it by the second. The magic flowed across his chest, through his right arm, and into his sword. It grew in size, becoming almost as large as Kaeman himself. What had once been an iron scimitar became a behemoth of a greatsword, dark grey in color, as it transmuted into withered steel. 

Magic continued to flow into it as Kaeman now had to use both of his hands to support the enormous weight of the blade. He slowly began advancing through his army, dragging the sword against the ground, leaving deep grooves in the cobblestone. 

With a great swing, this Dark Claymore cleared a path through its own army, killing many wither skeletons, in a display of power akin to cutting off a limb to show it is not needed. The dean now stared Kaeman directly in the eyes, pulling his own magical blade from his hip. Kaeman charged at him, and when the two swords clashed, the pitiful shortsword of the dean crumbled under the enormous weight of the Claymore.

Kaeman's blade struck the ground with great force, not so much slicing as crushing the dean's arm beneath it. A scream echoed out from the dean as his arm was ripped from his body by the tremendous force of the impact. He felt a shriveled hand grip his neck as he was lifted up into the air. How could a hand in such a bad condition exert this much force? 

A snap echoed through the battlefield, followed by the dean's body withering away into merely a skeleton. Kaeman's eyes burned with steely blue resolve, as he swung his new weapon out in a large arc. 

The blade left his hand, and continued on its path as if bound to his hand by magic. Brutal impact after brutal impact sounded out across the castle courtyard as Kaeman's blade struck one archmage after another. They had no time to react, they had just watched their teacher be brutally murdered. Only a few were able to dodge the impact, but they were by no means lucky.

Kaeman was now confident enough to try out some of his more complicated spells. He slashed his hand through the air, tearing holes in the fabric of space, shredding the rest of the archmages. Their insides became outsides, and they had not even enough time to scream in pain.

Kaeman looked over the state he was in. It seemed in his concentration he had sustained multiple blows from the archmages. No matter, they were simply superficial wounds, nothing to worry about.

He then turned his eyes to his surroundings. Hundreds, if not thousands of soldiers lay slain on the ground, killed by his wither skeletons. The outer walls of the castle had collapsed, and the castle itself had been set ablaze by stray spells. Truly regrettable, he thought to himself. All of this could have been avoided if he had simply come alone. 

Turning once again to look at the front gates of the castle, he dreaded what came next. But it had to be done.

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