About a Hero: The Dispute with Fantasy

By Alexei McConville

One does not have to look far to find the next great evil that threatens to bring absolute destruction, nor is it difficult finding the hero meant to save the day. There is always a story being told of a savior who will usher in peace, an explorer that will discover great treasure, and a nobody that becomes somebody. And they are all true.

"The Dispute with Fantasy" takes place in the Kingdom of Sets where a Dark Deity has fallen from the sky, sending the land into chaos. After a war has been waged for nearly a year, the people are on the verge of defeat, and only the heroes can prevent a disastrous fate. An immensely commanding knight, Gregor Cross, fights on the front lines. And Evelyn Times, the beautiful princess and unmatched rogue, protects her people from the shadows. But even they cannot hold out forever. That is when . . . er . . . something is wrong.

There is an intruder that was never meant to be a part of this journey. He does not care who is intended to be the hero because he will take the lead role for himself. But don't think this is a blessing. All he wants to do is save the day and then find the next adventure to make his own. Settling down for a Happy Ending is the last thing he desires. However, after the final battle, he might not be able to run away from this Happy Ending no matter how hard he tries. The only way to make things right or how he wants them to be is by confronts the Deities of this world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667810157

Book preview

Prologue

A dark, nearly pitch-black evening set the scene. Heavy rain poured down from the sky as thunder roared and lightning crackled. The roads were turned to mud making even the most daring traveler think twice about riding through the night. The best decision would be to find a place to weather out the storm.

A single lamp was hung from a post for any passerby to see. The light invited the weary to a place they could rest. There was a small tavern-inn established on the roadside. Food, drink, and shelter could be purchased for a reasonable price.

Inside was dry but dreary. A small crowd had gathered together to find some comfort in the presence of others even if strangers. A lonely bard played music in the corner to keep the stillness at bay. A group of men played cards as they gambled a minor amount to pass the time. Two ladies of the night went about the bar offering their services with little luck. The mood was low.

Did ya hear! A man at the bar rose his voice to the barkeep while regaling a tale of Heroism. There were a giant beast that had came from the curse moun’n.

I did hear bout that. The barkeep gave a nod while wiping down a glass. Nearly destroyed the entire Kingdom of Flageth.

People turned their ears to listen. They found an interest that would improve the mood. All of them had their own opinions that they wanted to share just as much.

Come round! Come round! The man at the bar called them over when he saw their curiosity. Let me tell ya about the Great Beast Tamer. You see that ther beast was stopped by the Beast Tamer and turn into the guard’n that would keep the kingd’m safe. The curse moun’n became the sacer moun’n. Let me start from the beginnin—

Who cares! Another man yelled. I preferred to tell my own story. Hear about Gogloth? Huh? Anybody? He was a half-man, half-orc that had been abandoned at birth. As a half-breed, he was treated like a mistake. In the Kingdom of Rooth, there was a coliseum that thousands of people a year were forced to fight in only to be killed by monsters. It was supposed to be undefeatable. The dead were only meant to be used as blood sacrifices. But Gogloth was able to conquer the coliseum and became the king. Instead of acting out wrathfully, he showed kindness to those that had oppressed him by getting rid of the coliseum.

Bsh! Another man cared not. You called that a Heroic adventure—

You know who I love? One of the prostitutes spoke up. Prince Tibbll. He fought a dragon and saved his princess from a castle. Afterward, they got married. How romantic. One day I wish I would be whisked away like that.

Any bad news? A voice cut through all the others.

Heads turned to look at a hooded, shadowy figure sitting at the end of the bar holding a drink that had not even been sipped.

Bad news? That negative expectation was unfamiliar.

Yeah, the shadow acknowledged that that was what was wanted. Anything bad going on that has not been resolved as of yet?

Well, the barkeep took a second to think, The Kingdom of Sets has been having trouble. They’re currently locked in a war against a mysterious army of black monsters.

I wouldn’t be too worried about that, another man brought up, I bet you when the battle is at its most dire, Prince Hermes from the neighboring Kingdom of Brel will swoop in and save the day.

And then, the prostitute continued, Princess Evelyn will be so astounded by his heroism that they fall in love at first sight, they get married, and live Happily Ever After.

Thank you, the figure set down the drink and stood up, I have someplace to be.

Chapter One

Where All Journeys Begin

For one long year, the Kingdom of Sets, in the Country of Brittlelie, has been in turmoil. It was that day when the sky fell did everything turn. In the darkness of night, the air was set ablaze. The atmosphere was split by a sudden bright glint of black light witnessed by many as a sign of impending doom. With a roar that all did hear, from the maw of a Demon God, a black star crashed down on the land. The impact shook the ground thousands of miles in all directions. The crater was massive in size, reshaping the land into a dark valley.

Caught in the destruction, every nearby village was obliterated instantly, all those lives snuffed out before they had a chance to realize. Their stories would never be told again. They would never be remembered as anything more than victims of this cataclysm. A true tragedy. But that was only the beginning.

That star that had fallen was an evil parasite that burrowed into the ground. Slowly, festering in the hole, beastly entities began to come into being. They were nothing but soulless creatures. They looked like withered humanoids covered in thick, black, tar-like fluid. Practically mindless, they thrived on death and pursued nothing other than destruction. Killing was instinctual to their nature.

Within only a few days, several of these creatures were seen all around in villages that were just outside of the destructive area. Their arrival was so sudden that there was little time for the people to react. These monsters would erupt from the ground, crawl out of wells, or mine shafts and go on killing rampages. There was no fighting back for the simple folk. Running was the only option. These incidences increased more and more with the passing days.

The ruler of the territory, King Emery Times, was quick to act. Before the appearance of the monsters and what havoc they wreaked, the military had been sent to aid those affected by the disaster. Camps for refugees were built to provide shelter. Food rations were given out to feed the hungry masses. Medicines and doctors worked to heal the injured.

All the efforts had to be put on hold once the attacks did start. There was too much danger near the epicenter. The camps had to be relocated. The people were evacuated farther into the land. Established patrols kept watch. Borders were erected to keep the creatures at bay. They hoped to quell the situation quickly.

Unfortunately, the soldiers struggled to fight back. Every encounter would result in six deaths of the people for just a single monster to be slain. In time, this trade of lives would worsen. The rise in the body count created difficulties in the Kingdom’s ability to maintain order. Fewer soldiers meant less morale. A draft had to be put into effect so that the military could expand after the number of losses was becoming drastic. Soldiers were recruited, trained, and armed to fight back. These actions worked only to slow the imminent defeat. Even this struggle was short-lived.

The enemy was held back for six months. The efforts put forth to achieve this temporary stalemate caused much strain on the people. It did not help that the number of creatures was growing rapidly. More would rise from the earth no matter how many were killed. They kept spreading faster and faster like a plague.

The frontlines were overwhelmed within the next several months that followed. The forward fortifications had been slowly chipped apart by the relentless attacks. Repairs could never be made because of the constant onslaught. Eventually, the walls collapsed under the pressure and were left destroyed. The vanguard was annihilated along with their base. A full retreat to the backline was ordered.

This defeat had been anticipated. It was thought to be a necessary sacrifice. They had gathered time and knowledge with the first defense. What they had learned was used in the construction of the second barricade that was made to be superior in every way. It was believed that it could hold for ten years.

However, as humans had evolved, so did the enemy. The monsters had become an organized force. Their horde made strategic attacks, eliminating guards, outposts, and refugee facilities systematically as they spread out over the land. The second line of defense was conquered in just another six months. This was the true rise of The Pestual Army.

The dark army swarmed through the forests and over the plains to cover the landscape in their shadow. The sky had become blackened with endless smoke clouds as villages burned across the country. Rivers all ran red and lake bodies turned black with ash and blood.

Life became a constant struggle for survival. Famine began to take the lives of the people since there was no more crop or livestock. The deaths brought disease which brought more death. By the end, what was killing the people was not the monsters but what the monsters had taken from the people, their means to live. All hope seemed lost.

The Capital of Warkton was the last remaining line of defense for the territory. King Emery held fast to his throne. He would not abandon it to save his own life. The kingdom he ruled would be left forfeit if he ran. He would rather die for his people and his land than be a coward who let them die for him. This was not his pride that got in the way but his duty to those that he led.

All the people that sought refuge found what safety they could behind the walls of the city, or in the lands beyond the capital that remained free of the evil. The situation was pure desperation. If Warkton fell, those lands would no doubt share the same fate. Sets had to win here and now if they wanted to survive.

But the odds were against the kingdom. It appeared that Warkton would not last. By the turn of one year, The Pestual Army had eradicated every land between the crater and the castle. And now, the evil forces made their approach to their final target.

The attack was not immediate. The enemy stayed at a distance to slowly gather in mass. They intended to take the stronghold in a single charge with an all-out raid. Victory dwindled out of sight as the size of the horde became immense. The gathering of monsters stretched out to the horizon like a black marsh. The castle was surrounded by this living swamp that constantly bubbled and moved.

Sounds, caws, and chittering like spastic clicks came from all directions. It was maddening to hear. The people were slowly being driven into a panic. Morale had been completely demolished. It seemed the end was inevitable.

One man stood at the frontline in defense without fear even as doom approached. Gregor Cross was the noblest of knights. A large man, he stood over six feet tall. His body was comprised entirely of muscle, making him exceptionally strong and quite fast with a powerful constitution. His golden hair was cut very short so as not to get in the way whenever he fought. The calm blue coloring of his eyes held an intensity with his off-in-the-distance stare. Experience and virtue were held in his glare while also giving off wrath due to his brow. All his facial features were tough, creating a true warrior’s façade. A scar was cut from the center of his forehead to the corner of his hairline, making him even tougher in appearance.

Just Gregor alone caused the monsters to waver. He had survived every battle that he fought in and, though most battles were not won, his command did not suffer defeat either. His swordsmanship learned through his family line was considered unbeatable and proven to be just that. His skills were beyond human. The tides of battle would always turn with him as if a Deity was on his side.

Other than being a soldier, Gregor was a legend. The gear he was equipped with attested to that. His sword once belonged to the Angel of War, given to him as a gift for being a true master of the battlefield. The armor he wore was crafted from the bones of an elder dragon he had slain single-handedly. The material was more powerful than any metal, resistant to all magic, and nearly indestructible. He was a juggernaut. And, even if his suit did fail him somehow, the jewel embedded in his left arm would keep him safe. The yellow crystal could truly defend against anything.

However, this challenge was on a different level. His indomitable spirit would not pull him through this time.

A second legend was let to fight. The king was reluctant at first because he did not want his daughter risking her life. At least, not in the beginning. However, this was the final stand. He could no longer allow his personal feelings to get in the way of Sets’ survival.

For the first time, Evelyn Times could join the battle. From the moment the crises occurred, she begged to be sent forth to aid the resistance. All she ever received was a no. As the people were being slaughtered, the military was being crushed, she could do nothing to help. She was the heir to the throne. If she died, the lineage of royalty would die with her. She accepted that reason and abstained from fighting. Or acted as if she was.

Evelyn’s father was the king, but her mother was the former spymaster. Evelyn was trained to be a master rogue. Her stealth abilities were among the best. She would often sneak out of the castle at night to recon the surrounding areas. Many times, she intercepted monsters that would have made attacks on the capital while the defenses were at their weakest. Nobody knew how much she had done to keep them safe. That was the point.

Other than stealth, Evelyn was skilled at assassination and masterful in direct combat. Her speed left her unseen when she attacked. Every strike she made was lethal. She could take down dozens of enemies simultaneously in a blink of an eye. She was meant to fight.

Just like Gregor, Evelyn had powerful items. Given to her by her mother was a golden ring that trapped the souls of those slain in a crimson pearl and grew in power with each that was collected. Her first dagger, made from an ancient metal that smelled of flowers and colored violet, inflicted wounds that could never be healed. The other dagger was fashioned from the tooth of a basilisk, able to pierce any armor or magic protection. Her leather armor, skin-tight on her slim body, and her cloak were fashioned from the hide of a fabled beast. Though not indestructible, like dragon bone, any attack would be repelled and reflected. This gear pushed her talents beyond.

Along with immense talent, Evelyn was also an unequaled beauty. All her characteristics were treasures. Her hair was silver silk. Her eyes were golden gems. Her skin was flawless cream-colored marble. A small mouth with full lips provided a pleasing smile or foreboding frown. Long eyelashes and thin eyebrows, black in color, contrasted her skin and created a frame for her eyes. That is why she has been dubbed the Princess Assassin.

Together, Gregor and Evelyn would fight against the Pestual Army. Together, the legends would fight to bring hope back to the kingdom. Together, them and all the remaining soldiers would fight to protect the people, the land, and the king.

The armies stood one man to one-thousand monsters. Each monster could now kill ten men. The odds were astronomically one-sided. Every single person that fought had to overcome all their limitations if they wanted victory. All fear had to be forgotten. All doubt had to be lost. The soldiers needed to become giants of themselves. What was needed were a million miracles just for a chance to win this. Everything needed to go more than perfectly.

Gregor led the army to the North where the enemy had originated. He and those under his command were to take the full brunt of the attack and push back harder no matter what the cost.

Evelyn led the rearguard to hold off any attacks to the flanks and then flank themselves. They had to wait for an opening to strike a crippling blow that would weaken the enemy forces. She was also responsible for preventing enemy forces from advancing into the lands still untainted.

The tension built rapidly to the scale of mountains with every passing second. The Pestual Army waited because the morale of man slowly shredded apart. The monsters brought with them a wave of death. Nobody was going to survive this.

The soldiers fell apart as the horrific truth of what was about to happen sunk in. They shook like they were possessed. They could barely move, let alone swing a sword or hold a shield. The doom to come took away the ability to fight even as a last stand. Surrender to the demise was what many began to choose.

The Pestual Army moved forward. The sudden charge caused panic. The men screamed in terror and staggered back as their instincts told them to flee. The army was in complete disarray as they crashed and tripped over each other. Only a few stood their ground. The very few. More went into shock when they saw so many of their comrades had broken down. Death was before them.

Both Gregor and Evelyn rushed in on the enemy that they were tasked to defeat. They disregarded all else. Their hope was to gain back morale with a display of courage and power. They would bear the weight of the entire battle even if nobody chose to follow. Death was inevitable so why be slowed by it. There was only win or lose. Live or die.

With a boom and a flash, all the darkness was suddenly burned away by a massive flaming ball of orange light. An orb of condensed magical energy like the sun had been conjured above the battlefield to the West. Both sides were stunned by the mystery.

The fighting had come to a stop before it had even begun. Clearly, neither side was responsible for the appearance of this object based on their reactions. The monsters halted their advancement. In wait, they stared at the spell in the distance to see what was going to happen. The people gaped at the luring sight. It felt to them like a possible change to the fate that they were heading toward.

The ball slowly descended to the earth with the grace of a gentle snowflake. The moment the energy touched down a wave of scorching flames erupted outward in all directions cascading across the battlefield. A massive chunk of The Pestual Army was swept under the blazing heat to be vaporized in an instant. Dozens more of these balls appeared raining from the sky. A third of the dark army was eradicated.

A change hit the field of war. A sudden boost of morale surged through the people. The Deities were on their side, they believed. They could win. They would win. They attacked. Shields created walls to prevent pushes by the enemy. Swords swung with the intent to kill and cut down foes. War cries echoed among all the soldiers giving courage to not stop fighting. The physical force that they mustered was enough to balance the scales.

The magical force assisting turned the odds entirely. Lighting struck, chaining between crowds of monsters, shocking hundreds to death. Clouds of cold plumed, freezing solid and shattering those caught in the vapor. The earth itself split open to swallow the enemy.

For the first time, the monsters were in defense. In only an hour, the enemy forces had been nearly destroyed. The dark army had to flee.

With the enemy’s back turned it was apparent that Sets had won. Such a success took time to settle in. The impossible had been achieved. That fact was too incredible to process. Cheers erupted in a sudden outburst. Tears were just as common. Many of the soldiers wept with joy. They were alive. The raging screams of this battle had been replaced by a roar of triumph that resonated from the army around the castle to those behind the walls. The capital was filled with just as much glory and praise to their guardians. The air was filled with an inspiring call that could be heard in the surrounding lands. Everybody knew that they had taken the day. Hope had been restored. This was the first step toward saving the kingdom. True victory was in sight.

Gregor did not participate in the premature celebration. He was glad about the way the battle had swayed but understood this was only one success after so many failures. This would not save the kingdom. One more decisive battle just like this would have to be waged and won to take the lands back. But that fight might not have such a miracle that this one was blessed with. To him, this was merely a delay. Many more people would die before this was truly over. Even so, a small amount of hope had returned to him as well. He raised his sword in the air.

Only one region did not join in the merriment. The soldiers in the rearguard remained silent even as those farther to the East and West raved. Evelyn was not able to speak either. They were all in awe.

During the aftermath, a lone hawk flew through the sky on approach to them. They all watched the animal. There was something more about it that drew notice. With continued stares, the realization came that the hawk was vastly larger than any normal bird. This was their savior.

The hawk swept overhead of them, trailing a gust of wind. The cool air fell on the soldiers as a calming blanket that brought the men to ease after all they had been through. The bird was moving directly toward Evelyn. Nobody feared its intentions. A beat of its wings placed it in a hover before her. Slowly, it descended to the ground. The form began to change just before touching down on the earth. The feathers fell away turning bright white that then shattering like glass and quickly fading away entirely. There stood a man in place of the bird.

The power that radiated from the man was intense. The people would not believe he was so adept with magic had they not seen what he was capable of because he was so youthful in appearance. To obtain such magical control would take many decades for even the most zeal apprentice. But he was clearly in his twenties. As a mage, he was vastly superior to grandmasters who dedicated most of their life training. His level was no doubt Paragon, strength considered equal to a Deity. Perhaps he was a Deity, many of the soldiers thought.

The man’s face was almost as if sculpted to be a perfect piece of art along with his nimble yet strong physicality. Certain features were different from theirs. His caramel-brown skin tone told that he came from a land far off. Deep, blue-colored hair like his could not be found on anyone in this land. The length was medium and swooped back in a wave. Though, his light-colored blue eyes were more common among the people. He was similar to them but different which only furthered their assumptions of his Divinity.

The man’s attire was a mix of simple to spectacular. The shirt he wore was plain white with two buttons that were unbuttoned to loosen the collar. A black silk cloak, with a silver crisscross pattern lining the edgings, was draped over his shoulders and secured around his neck by a silver square clip. An emblem of a beast with the front half of a lion, the back half of a goat, the head of both a lion and a goat, and a tail that was a snake was sewn into the back of the cloak with the same silver thread. The sleeves were tucked into gauntlets made of treated wood.

Those gauntlets were of Elven make, crafted from the ironbark of the World Tree. To allow his hands complete functionality, there were only pieces covering specific segments, the circumference of his forearm, the top of his hand, and ringlets around the sections of his fingers. All the pieces were held together by a thin black glove and leather straps.

His pants were black, held up by a basic brown leather belt, and tucked into far more impressive armored boots made entirely of gold, the Seven League Boots. The neck of the boots extended up to his knees to completely protect his lower legs. Two wings spread on the front of each boot neck and reached to the back where the feathers fanned out. Caps, like half of a large flower bud, shielded his knees. The foot plating was rounded to give his toes room. Another layer of armor was placed over the top of the foot and set under the neck to reinforce each piece like scales.

The lobs of his ears were pierced, and a few other rings adorned the cartilage. But the most distracting accessor was a necklace that hung in the space of his open collar. A thin string of black leather, a silver chain, and a crimson-colored vine were braided into a cord. An amulet made of dark iron attached to the end. The design was a perfectly crafted but malevolently aesthetic eight-pointed sun. In the center was a diamond-shaped red gem-like an ominous eye.

He was an amalgamation of many worlds.

More important than what the man wore was what he wielded. His weapon of choice was the same as any mage, a magical staff. The shaft was transparent like glass but far more durable. The bottom had two silver rings and a golden cone spike. The body of a silver snake coiled around the upper half of the staff and the head of the serpent rested at the top along with two others, a goat, and a lion. All three faced outward in separate directions.

The true hero of this journey had arrived. His name was Chess Lylus.

Chapter Two

The Final Battle

The army of man left immediately to push their way to the crater after the victory before the capital. A charge like a spearhead pierced the enemy lines with the legends leading. They retook the lands lost to them long ago. They eradicated the few monster forces that had lagged after the Great Battle. In hours, the sun had set. The moon lit the way for the war march that stormed across the territory to their goal. They could not wait even a day to recuperate. There would be no doubt that the monsters would recover just the same and be reinforced greater in number.

It had long been known that some great evil resided in the crater. The people could only struggle against it. Now was their time. In two days, they had smashed through the enemy and cut a path to the heart of darkness. All that had to be done now was sever the head of what evil awaited. The soldiers would fend off the remnants of the Pestual Army. The three Heroes would separate from the campaign to fight what resided at the epicenter. This was their one and only chance.

Chess, Evelyn, and Gregor stood at the edge of the crater. They felt fear by looking into the abyss before them. That was good. A person without fear is a person that has no desire to survive. Everything leading up to this point was about survival. Unfortunately, fear is a double-edged sword that can cause hesitation in the weak-willed. But the three held the courage to overcome their fears so they would not falter. They would push their limits and overcome all odds. This was the final battle that needed to be fought and won to return peace to the land. Victory was right in front of them now. All they had to do was defeat Verax.

Verax, the Vile Betrayer of Light and Hope. This was what fell from the sky that night a year ago. From the beginning, this being had been the source of evil that blighted the land. The epicenter of the great disaster became home to foster its dark ambitions. The black monsters that terrorized the land had molted from its very flesh. Their life was given with only the single purpose of killing. In time, it grew to understand what control it had over the fleas of its body. With one shared mind, they forged a powerful armada that could not be outmaneuvered. Nothing could overpower the collective. But that was proven wrong as it looked up from its pit at those that had come.

The look of this abomination was like no other creature that had existed. A person with a weaker mind would break at the very sight of it, be sent into a spiral of insanity, and be driven to kill themselves in the worse way possible. Even one with a hardened resolve could feel the strain as if their brain was being pressed.

Verax had an intimidating size, rearing as tall as a fortress wall. The head of this monstrosity was devoid of any living tissue looking like a jawless human skull with vampire fangs. Thick black strands of rough hair sprouted out of the scalp to loosely hang all the way to the ground and drag in the dirt. Its two massive arms were also wings like that of a bat that spanned twice its height. It had no legs but a tendril tail that sunk deep into the earth. Spikes protruded from the elbows, shoulders, and sides of its neck. Smaller spikes continued all the way down the spine. How it saw everything was with a colossal eye on the right of its chest. The outer rim of the eye was red in color, and the iris had merged with the pupil into a single black hole. A third arm, almost like that of a human, with elongated proportions and a purple color, was located on the left part of its chest. The stomach was replaced by a lipless mouth filled with rows of sharp teeth. The external gummy tissue was dark purple. The insides were venomous green with bile that could dissolve anything. All these things of dread and malice were what made this monster that had once been a Deity from the Heavens above.

Reasons unknown had corrupted the being. A craving for more power, a belief in its superiority, or an outside entity turning it mad? These speculations were made to give reason to why this thing needed to be destroyed. Regardless, the actions it took now were reason enough.

Gregor had no hesitation in confronting Verax as he jumped over the edge and ran down the side of the sloped terrain. To warriors like him, he knew that the first to strike in battle had the advantage. Putting the enemy on the defensive meant he would be given the opportunity to strike again. He charged with massive strides that brought him in close quickly.

As Gregor neared, the winged left arm slammed down onto the ground and swept across the field. Everything caught beneath was annihilated. He leaped high up with an impressive bound at the precise time to hurdle over the attack. However, his evasion was obvious. Now that he was fixed in the air, unable to dodge again, the lanky, chest arm reached out to catch him. Being caught would be his end.

Evelyn acted to defend her ally. She crossed the distance in a blink. By landing on the palm of the grasping hand, she intended to be a distraction. She stabbed both her daggers into the flesh. The unstoppable one punched a hole with ease. The unhealable one glanced off the skin without making a scratch. Surprise took her. She hesitated and almost missed her moment to escape. Her actions did cause the hand to stop to instead try catching her. The fingers snapped shut like a bear trap but failed to snare anything other than air. She had vanished away to the backline.

Gregor saw how one of Evelyn’s daggers had failed to cut through. The skin was shown to be extremely tough. Upon landing, he adjusted how he held his sword. The tip of the blade was pointed straightforward. He knew that he could not rely on a slash if he wanted to deal damage. All the momentum he had been building up was going to be needed to empower the attack on a focused area. More strength might even be required.

A sudden burst of energy was felt that made him stronger as three transparent green rings spiraled around him. A spell had been cast on him to boost his fighting ability. This was what he needed.

With three long bounds and a leap forward, he reached the enemy. A thrust of his sword pierced through the thick hide of the tendril. Using all his strength, he ripped the sword out of the side leaving a massive gaping slash. A crippling blow had been dealt.

Verax reared back in pain but was quick to retaliate. Its stomach-mouth opened wide as it lurched forward to fall on the man so close. Teeth were ready to chomp.

Chess aimed his staff forward using only his right hand. He held his left hand in front of him with three fingers up to channel power into the end of the weapon. Energy-like threads formed out of thin air and began to condense into an orb of light. Once the shaping was finished, with a sharp motion of his left hand to the center of his chest, he cast the spell. An extremely dense, high-velocity ball of energy was shot down the throat of Verax.

Verax gulped and reared back at the unexpectedness of the object. It gagged in a way that any creature would. The ball of energy then exploded inside its stomach. The mouth blasted open as a cloud of smoke and blood belched out. An opportunity was made for a follow-through of attacks.

Gregor swung his sword back and cut through the slash that was already made. The gash was driven deeper as the other side was split open. The tendril was now cut halfway through.

Verax lost balance and fell backward, unable to hold the weight of its own body. However, outstretched wings provided the stability that stopped it short of hitting the ground.

Chess quickly drew blue, luminescent lines in the air in front of him using his finger. What he was creating was a sypher that conjured magical forces. The symbols used were a diamond surrounded by three circles and a line passing through with a zig-zagging line weaving over the straight line. The magic activated when he thrust his hand forward.

The temperature became chillingly cold. Ice began to form from thin air to amass into a huge glacier above Verax. The chunk smashed down with immense weight that forced and pinned Verax to the ground. The wound inflicted to the tendril was ripped open even wider.

Chess had made another opportunity for the heroes and scribbled out another sypher. The earth bent to his will. The ground around the tendril turned to sand and glass that began to twist and grind and sever more flesh. Victory was already so close. Only a few thick tendons were left keeping everything together.

The air became intensely hot, ushering an understanding that this battle was not over yet. A red beam shot through the glacier melting a hole before the extreme difference in energy blew apart the ice. Deadly shards scattered in all directions. The hero’s attack had been turned against them.

Gregor was safe beneath Verax but was forced to retreat right after the hail dispersed.

Chess had to stop channeling his spell to project a barrier that kept him and Evelyn safe from the barrage.

The moment the danger had passed, Chess dropped the protective shielding to quick cast another high-velocity ball of energy that might destroy the remaining connection. The projectile was shooting through the air directly on target.

Verax erected back up with a beat of its wings that created a gust of wind. The frenzying air disrupted the trajectory of the ball. It was launched back at Chess, nearly missing him as it passed right by his head. Worse yet, with Verax now upright, the cut pressed together and rapidly regenerated. The strands of flesh mended back together like they had become liquid that flowed into each other to fully restore the tendril. Their first attack had failed.

Evelyn could tell that Chess was looking at her. She knew that they would be relying heavily on her unhealable dagger from this point on. She was ready to prove herself. Even though the dagger could not break the skin, she already knew how to compensate. Both daggers were at the ready to kill.

Evelyn went in at the same speed as before. Her target was the eye which meant Verax saw her coming. Its wings stretched out in front to create a shield around itself to prevent her from getting close. She would not be stopped. Spinning in midair with the daggers outstretched made her into a flying blade. The unstoppable dagger cut open the wing and the unhealable dagger slashed the same cut preventing the wound from being able to regenerate. An opening was created. She entered the dome of flesh to complete her mission.

The only light came from the moon shining through the hole which cast on Evelyn. All else around was darkness. Even the light was soon overtaken by darkness as the wings pulled in tighter to overlap and cover the hole. Without sight, she still had a sense of everything. The attack was predictable. She leaned to the side just enough to dodge the whip from a tongue. A few steps back and the tongue lashed the ground in front of her. The third strike came. She perfectly