An encounter with a strange medallion leaves sixteen year old Gestalt possessed by the spirit of an ancient Demon King, making him a key player in a war between the Demon King and the Goddess of Life. Unfortunately, the Demon King wants to destroy t...
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The full story can be purchased at martellbooks.com/2015/10/30/pandemonia-chronicles-dawn/
PROLOGUE
Rolf Beulf, the Champion General of the Gluskab Empire, stood wearily on the battlefield surrounded by a legion of zombie soldiers. It didn't help that the cold night wind chilled his silver armor, making it feel as though the plates were made from ice blocks.
Standing near Rolf was Walsh Ashleigh, an elemental magician, and Rosa Cecila, a priestess of the Goddess of Life, Deus. Though he was cut off from the rest of his army Rolf was glad at least two members of his private guard were with him.
"This is futile," said Walsh. "Every soldier we lose is revived to fight against us. We can't continue on like this."
"We're so close to Anu's position," Rolf stated as he stared at the gigantic black gargoyle at the other end of the field. He gripped the handle of his glowing sword tighter. "If we could just get past these zombies and defeat him, the battle would be over."
"How much strength do you have left?" asked Walsh. "Is that sword taxing your magical power too much?"
"I'm fine," Rolf lied. He'd been spitting up blood for the past hour. His magical reserve gone, the weapon now drained away his very life. However, he couldn't tell Walsh that, or he would become too distracted from the battle.
"You don't look fine," said Walsh. "I told you Lost Magic artifacts are dangerous. You should have left that weapon in Arcadia."
"Walsh, focus on the present," said Rolf. He didn't have strength to spare to argue with Walsh. "I need to get to the Demon King, so I can end this war once and for all. Help me do thi--." Blood gushed out of Rolf's mouth. He shouldn't have spoken so much with his body under such stress. There was no hiding his pain anymore.
"Hold still! I'll heal you!" Rosa, obviously in shock at what she had seen, raised her crosier over him and started praying.
"Don't waste your spell," said Rolf. "You know you can't heal this. My body is the payment for using this blade."
The zombies grew nearer, and his body felt more and more cold. Something had to be done. He was running out of time.
"But I can at least try," said Rosa. "We haven't tried to heal you yet..."
"Rosa!" In his desperate hour, Rolf spoke to her harsher than he knew he should. "I need a path!"
Rosa looked him in the eye for a second, obviously on the brink of crying, but she bit her lower lip, and she sharply turned away from him to fix her gaze on the advancing hoards.
The Priestess whispered an incantation too softly for Rolf to make out, but the Goddess surely heard her words. When the priestess raised her crosier above her head, several rays of golden light pierced the darkness of the night, disintegrating a large portion of the advancing zombie army.
