Withering Ambition

Close Quarters

Kaeman walked slowly through the halls of the castle, observing the murals on the wall. They depicted the creation of the mages, and preached a certain nobility about them. Kaeman slashed each one he passed, they preached nothing but lies.

It was oddly quiet, he expected greater resistance to get to the libraries. He tilted his head, intrigued by the apparent strategy being employed by the remaining army. They were still occupied fighting his own army of wither skeletons. 

But he knew that there were forces inside the castle as well. He passed the castle's main hall and noticed that there were many dozens of civilians taking shelter inside. They began to scream at the sight of him, scrambling to flee. 

"I am not here for you."

Kaeman quieted their qualms with a single sentence, his voice alluring. He simply walked past them, and continued on his journey. He descended a staircase into the underground portion of the castle. This is surely where he would meet resistance. 

Shaking his head, Kaeman stood up and resumed his stroll towards the libraries. Rounding a corner, he saw a group of soldiers, but he was ready. Summoning his claymore to his side, he crushed the closest of the attackers between the wall and the flat edge of his blade, and a crunch could be heard as his ribcage collapsed.

The felled warrior dropped to the floor faster than a falling stone, and upon seeing this horrifying sight, the others fled the scene. Kaeman let them go, figuring that they were just civilians. 

This was the last hallway before he reached the libraries.

A loud crash sounded behind him, as a gate fell to the ground, locking him in the corridor he was in. Of course, he could always break the gate, but upon inspection, it was multiple inches thick of solid iron. Not a trivial task.

He turned around and was faced with another gate of the same nature rising on the opposing end of the corridor. An imposing figure, most likely a captain of the royal army, stood in front of a battalion of troops, which, by the look of them, had seen many battles. 

Kaeman began to summon wither skeletons to aid him in battle, but he had to cease the spell almost as soon as it started, for a spear was sent hurtling towards him by the captain. He grabbed it mid-air and was surprised by the tremendous force behind it. It took great effort to stop it, and he staggered backwards from the impact. 

Tendrils of magic flowed into the spear, as it began to levitate and spin. Kaeman infused great momentum into the spear as he hurled it with all the might he could muster, back to its original owner. 

The spear took less than half a second to cross the nearly 50 meter gap, and to Kaeman's surprise, the captain caught it effortlessly in his metal glove, and took off his helmet.

His face had scars running up and down its length, his mouth twisted into a face of determination. His hair was black and raggedy, grey strands interrupting his otherwise youthful look. He spoke out in a gravelly and commanding voice, 

"No one matches me in close quarters."

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