Withering Ambition

Clarity Before Death

This is a long chapter, hope that's ok

"No one matches me in close quarters!"

The words echoed in Kaeman's head as he took in the spectacle of a man who stood before him. He was astonished by the display of strength he had just witnessed. He was intrigued to the highest level. The sheer might of his foe was truly remarkable. 

"I don't doubt that. What is your name, soldier?"

Kaeman tilted his head, awaiting an answer. He needed to stall. There was no way he could win this fight without developing a strategy first. 

"They call me Goldor."

He raised his hand and pulled down another gate from behind him, blocking off his army and leaving himself and Kaeman alone in the dimly illuminated corridor.

"Very well then, Goldor. I assume you do not have intentions of allowing me to escape here alive. I myself do not wish for conflict, but if it is what you desire, I will grant you that wish."

Goldor drew his greatsword, and even Kaeman's behemoth of a Claymore was put to shame by its size. The light of the oil lamps shone off its surface, it was polished metal, a killing machine. Despite its massive size, Goldor wielded it with little effort, swinging it in broad strokes to show off his strength. 

With a snap of his fingers, Kaeman summoned a barrage of daggers and sent them towards Goldor. Upon seeing the incoming threat, Goldor adjusted his stance, holding the blade in front of his exposed face with a hand on each side, walking slowly into the attack.

The daggers bounced off of Goldor's sword, and the ones that struck his armor imbedded themselves into the heavy plating. After the last dagger flew past, Goldor lowered his sword and pulled the daggers out of his armor, and after a short pause, continued his advance. 

As he came closer, Kaeman realized the sheer scale of his opponent. He stood at least 3 meters tall, taller even than the wither skeletons in Kaeman's army. His face was awestruck for a moment before once again returning to the situation at hand. 

Concentrating deeply, Kaeman began to levitate into the air, and with a battle cry, began shooting wither skulls rapidly from his hands. 

Goldor staggered backwards from the attack, but after a few hits, widened his stance and began to walk straight into the wither skulls. Kaeman watched as the withering on his own body spread slowly, and the skulls that he cast became more and more powerful. 

Goldor had continued to advance into the skulls, and with great effort, struck one with his sword, sending it back to Kaeman. Upon impact, Kaeman was knocked to the ground, disrupting his spell. 

Regaining his footing, Kaeman drew his Claymore from thin air, and stood forward in a stance that seemed to challenge Goldor.

Smirking, Goldor drew his own sword and charged towards Kaeman.

The swords clashed and a deafening crash sounded out from where the blades met. Neither could seem to claim victory, both of their wielders straining with effort, albeit different kinds of effort. 

Brute strength powered Goldor's advance, his muscles, for all practical purposes, having infinite stamina. No one could last against his vigor. 

Dark magic powered Kaeman's defense, the Necronomicon glowing with runes and infusing into his withered but powerful arms. 

Kaeman knew he had to break this stalemate, he couldn't last as long as Goldor. With great effort, he sent a spacial distortion behind Goldor, one of his most powerful spells. Upon reaching its destination, it imploded, pulling Goldor towards it and breaking the clash of swords. 

Kaeman capitalized on this and once again expended a large amount of magic with a single spell. A distortion seemed to appear from thin air, and glowed with power. Kaeman swung his arm in an arc, and shortly afterwards, the dimensional slash struck Goldor across his left leg, destroying his heavy armor plating and cutting into his flesh. 

Kaeman collapsed to the ground in exhaustion, he had not trained for this. But these spells seemed to be the only thing that could feasibly damage his opponent. He brought his arm up to wipe the sweat off his forehead, but was surprised to find that there was none. His face had succumbed to the withering.

Goldor struggled to stand, but still managed to swing his sword in Kaeman's direction.

Kaeman was caught off guard by the sudden attack. In his panic he was barely able to cast a wither shield, which absorbed the blow partially. Kaeman felt pain rip through his body, it wasn't enough to absorb the full impact. That sword was powerful.

His thoughts raced. This could be his end. But no, he still had one spell left. But it would drain him greatly, perhaps to the point where he could not continue to fight. But he had to do it. It was the only way.

With a great scream, Kaeman's body emanated energy and culminated in a large explosion which slammed Goldor into the wall. Kaeman held up his Claymore, and with a final shout, he drove it into Goldor's stomach. The blade barely made it past the armor, but still went far enough to cause fatal damage.

Dizziness overcame Kaeman and he fell to the floor, unable to move.

Several minutes passed as both fighters laid on the ground, incapacitated.

"Do you know why I'm here, Goldor?"

Kaeman's breath was heavy, his voice as calm as ever.

With great effort, Goldor responded.

"You are here to destroy the castle and the Order of Mages. You are here to end our kingdom. You are here to end our way of life."

Kaeman slowly shook his head, looking into Goldor's eyes with almost a hint of sorrow. 

"You would be mistaken. I am simply here to destroy the libraries of spells that the Order of Mages had wrongfully stolen from this book," Kaeman said, gesturing to the Necronomicon on his hip. 

Goldor stared back at the book, and then back at Kaeman. 

"I have been given orders to dispatch you. It does not matter why you are here."

Kaeman once again shook his head. His face conveyed almost a sort of sympathy for Goldor.

"But do you believe in your orders? Do you agree with them, or are you simply obeying because you know not the path which you are meant to take?"

Goldor's breath was shaky, and it was clear he was nearing his end.

"I follow... the strongest side..." Goldor struggled to speak. "That is the path... I was meant to take."

Kaeman stood up slowly, and kneeled down over Goldor. 

"You will have a chance to serve me. I will find you, Goldor. I will make you what you are meant to be."

Goldor smiled slightly, his expression softening. His breath faded for the last time, his body finally falling limp. 

Kaeman looked at himself once again. His entire upper body was now withered, his ribcage visible. His legs seemed weak, as if they were on their way out.

Almost there, he thought. Almost there.

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