Mark of the Fool

Chapter 246: 242: Reckoning


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Alex dodged across the beach as Burn-Saw rushed after him, churning loose sand beneath his hooves.

“Little wretch!’ The demon screamed, half-delirious with rage and sensory impairment. “You coward! This is how Hannar-cim, the great Yushaero acts? Where is that power that destroyed my commanders? Cease your foolish, childish games. Fight me!”

“Listen, friend.” Alex ducked away from an axe swing. “If this is how you do against ‘childish and foolish games’ I’m not sure you even deserve my best. But here. A consolation prize.”

Alex threw another bottle of booby-trapped sensory enhancement potion into the demon’s axe, shattering it.

Potion-mist covered him.

“Raaagh!” The axe swung wildly.

“‘Raaagh’?” Alex mimicked, keeping his tone light and mocking, heightening the demon’s frustration.

“I give you a gift, and all you can say is ‘Raaagh’? Don’t they teach manners in demonland-Whoa!” An axe swing fell short of Alex’s forceshield. “So close!”

He ducked another swing then looked around. The horde of flying demons swarming him were gone now. Most were cleaved apart by the three-eyed demon’s axe, while others fled to seek easier prey; probably a far safer choice than being anywhere near their ally’s axe.

Alex was alone with Burn-Saw. There were demons clustered near The Outcasts, fighting to get at the priests, but the wizards, Grand Battle contestants, their familiars, professors, and anyone else who could fight, were mounting a strong offensive against them. The bodies of dead demons littered the beach; where they fell, the sand had turned blue-black with their blood.

His eyes searched for his friends and found them doing what they did best.

They’d formed a tight group with their strongest fighters on the outside. The attacking demons were met with all of Theresa’s speed and power, Thundar’s might, the primal force that was Grimloch, and the unstoppable onslaught of Claygon. The golem’s fists were laying into demons nonstop, knocking some back through their portals.

An insectoid ice demon leapt at him. Scythes slashed across his body, leaving no marks on the clay armour. The demon paused; Claygon’s fists didn’t hesitate, sending its head soaring through the air.

Other groups fought on.

Hanuman’s team battled with the same resolve as their attackers, cutting down opponents by the heartbeat. Vesuvius and Tyris’ team had turned their side of the battlefield into bubbling lava pools.

But not every defender was faring as well.

The demon horde had greater numbers; violence and war were just a natural part of their natures. And if there had been less wizards, raw power, and magics present, the situation would have turned catastrophic long ago. Baelin’s protective spells had given the defenders an edge…at first.

Their protections were strong, but with time, enough solidly placed blows were weakening and even piercing them, and their magic couldn’t stop the demons from catching and dragging defenders down like hunted prey. Fighters were trying to pull the monsters off their fallen allies, but there were too many of them; not everyone could be rescued.

That left the demons free to claw and slash at the protections until they shattered and…

Alex winced at the screams.

Invaders kept emerging from portals all around: he could feel connections growing between his world and the demons’ domain. As demon numbers grew, so did the shrieks of mortals. On the sand, red blended with blue-black demon blood.

The young wizard’s insides tightened: there was little he could do alone about the course of the battle. Even his friends—each skilled and without a Mark hindering their abilities—weren’t able to turn the tide as the demons spread like a plague.

If this went on, in time, everyone would be overwhelmed.

But if everyone teleported away to Generasi…Alex shuddered as he imagined this horde following them and getting their claws into Selina and the Lus.

He shook his head. No, that must never happen.

‘Let Baelin and The Watchers handle stopping the cause of all this. Focus on what you can do, not what you can’t,’ he thought, bringing his attention back to Burn-Saw.

“Listen to me.” He stepped behind the demon, trying to put as much intimidating baritone into his voice as he could by using The Mark to match Baelin and Grimloch’s terrifying tones. “You’ve been fighting this entire time and the only thing you’ve hit are your own allies. Drop the axe and we can talk. I know you don't want me to get serious, right? So, stop this while you still can.’”

“Quiet!” the demon snarled, swinging at him again.

“You seem to know something about our past.” Alex stepped around the blow. He wasn’t about to let on how little he actually knew about what the demon had been saying. “This battle is going to go very badly for your army. Very badly. If it’s not me who gets you, it’ll be one of my allies, or even the great, horned wizard.”

When in doubt, threaten your foe with Baelin.

The demon snarled.

“Empty threats!” His axe cut through the air. “The horned one cannot stop us! No mortal can!”

“You call them threats, I call them a warning…and they’re not empty.” Alex said. “We’ve killed more of you than there are of u-”

The demon roared with laughter, his voice like gravel.

“This is no meagre force summoned by mortal rulers who call themselves demon kings, Hannar-Cim. It is not as it once was,” Burn-Saw snarled. “We are not alone, nor are we bound by weak spells and mortal commands. We were called on this day by one who is unequalled—our abyssal knight.”

“And that’s supposed to impress me?” Alex said, hiding the fact he was kind of impressed by the title. ‘Abyssal knight’ sounded like something that would be real low on his list of things to mess with.

“It would, if you had sense!” the half-blind demon’s axe swings blurred as he raged on. “There are more of us in our liege’s armies than there are mortals in your entire kingdom. Maybe tenfold your number: cut down as many here as you like. Your forces are powerful, but we are merely drops in a sea. If you strike these bodies down, we will reform by the power of our master.”

“‘We will reform?’” Alex repeated the demon’s words. His mind went to what little he knew about what happened to summoned creatures when they were struck down; his Elemental Beetles bodies went back to the elemental plane.’ But he didn’t know what happened to other summoned beings when they were killed.

‘Reformed’ might mean that the demons on the beach had a similar protection, which could explain why they were attacking so recklessly: in a way, they weren’t in any permanent danger.

“Well,” Alex said. “We can deal you some ‘strikes’ that’ll stick, if you don’t start cooperating.”

“Hm,” Burn-Saw suddenly paused, looking at Alex as if seeing him for the first time. “Threats. Threats and more threats. You have grown chatty in your old age, Hannar-cim. What happened to the pitiless, swift…hm. Hm. Hm. You are different…and that form…hm. Hm. Hm. Maybe this new form is not an enchantment or reincarnation. Maybe…you are not Hannar-cim at all.”

“Say that again, and I’ll destroy you,” Alex said quickly.

“Aaaaah, now I understand why you play these games,” the demon snorted. “You must be a servant of the Yushaero. A pawn.”

“You felt my power,” Alex said quickly.

“I assumed wrongly.” The demon’s voice was calmer and Alex didn’t like that one bit. The hulking creature stood up to its full height; all three eyes were closed and his face was turning more peaceful. Even through all the chaotic body language, Alex could see the demon’s demeanour was more controlled now.

“Yes…a servant maybe,” it continued. “Or maybe a child. One who has tasted her power, but to whom it does not belong. Wretched mortal, where is the Yushaero?”

“I am Hannar-” Alex cut himself off, realising his mistake before he’d finished the sentence. The last time he’d outright lied-

“Aaaaaah, now I smell it,” the demon said, and Alex could see all three eyes moving rapidly beneath their eyelids. “Deceit. I see now. You have no true power.”

‘I have power, idiot, but I want to question you, not kill you,” Alex thought. He could feel his control of the situation slipping. Dealing with an enraged, blinded demon was one thing; dealing with an immortal who was composed, was something he wasn’t too eager to do.

He scanned the creature’s scars again: there was no way he was capturing it now-

Alex froze, feeling a swell of...

Summoning magic. Demon forms began materialising around him. Three looming monsters. Alex jumped away as they solidified, swinging their axes-

Bang!

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-an axe-head drove into Baelin’s forceshield, and the power of the blow was enough to catapult Alex through the air. He hit the sand and rolled, kipping up to his feet. The trio charged him, all nine eyes blazed.

In seconds, he was dancing and dodging through a storm of chopping axes.

“Catch him!” Burn-Saw roared. “Catch him, brothers, I will throw him in the chain-box. He speaks many words-” With his eyes still closed, the three-eyed demon smiled, revealing razor sharp teeth. “-but I bet he’ll speak the words I want him to speak when the cranks are turned a few times.”

Alex swore beneath his breath, his hand slipping into his potions bag.

Crash!

The three demons flipped their axes to the flat sides and drove the menacing weapons at him, straight into Baelin’s forceshield and greater force armour. He was knocked around by the impacts, but kept digging for a potion.

He finally gripped a booby-trapped flight potion, but quickly realised he couldn’t use it: demons in wild, uncontrolled, flight would create chaos for everyone on the beach, including his allies.

There was another option.

Alex focused his thoughts as the three demons swarmed him. Burn-Saw charged, joining them: He opened his red eyes, seeming to have recovered from the booby-trapped sensory enhancement potions.

This was a problem. Alex was barely dodging three demons, a fourth would be impossible.

Crash!

An axe broke through his forceshield.

‘Shit! Come on. Come oooon!’ He thought

The demons surrounded him, slamming their weapons into Baelin’s greater force armour on all sides. He bounced around from the impacts, his feet unstable on the bloody sand.

Crash!

An axe head smashed the force armour.

“Oh shit!”

Panic filled him as the weapons came at him from all sides. He dodged the first. Barely ducked around the second.

Slam!

The third clipped him in the ribcage.

Schnk!

Burn-Saw grinned, turning his axe blade, then slashing at Alex with the edge. The young wizard screamed, recoiling as the blade caught his forearm. Instantly, searing pain tore through him while blood wicked into his shirt sleeve and ran along his forearm. Burning spread across his entire torso.

Alex stumbled back, clutching the gash. The demons laughed.

“That was a gift for all of your jabbering, mortal fool. Now I have you!” Burn-Saw roared.

“Funny, ” Alex grunted, his breath strained. “I was just about to say the same to you.”

He leapt backwards, throwing himself in the sand.

Whooooosh!

Behind him, Claygon turned his head at a sharp angle like an owl, firing on his master’s position while laying into demons in front of him.

Boom!

Flame and hot sand blew through the air, consuming Alex’s attackers. He shielded his eyes from the flame as they screamed, then abruptly went silent. Panting, he slowly got to his feet, watching the all consuming flames. The demons didn’t incinerate as quickly as other monsters Claygon’s beams had touched, but the fire-magic wasn’t exactly slow in turning them to embers either.

Burn-Saw’s form soon carbonised.

“I’m going to learn your name,” Alex said. “And then you and I will have a talk. I’ll be seeing you again.”

Turning, he walked toward his friends—applying pressure to his wound as Mr. Lu had taught him when he was small—and focused through The Mark’s interference to cast spells as he went.

###

“Why must we play these games?” Baelin sniffed.

He made a gesture and spoke an incantation.

A cube of shining force—covered in symbols that were bane to demons—began shimmering into being, but Ezaliel’s crystalline form flashed, transforming into a ray of light which shot away from the chancellor’s spell before it could capture him.

The demon reformed a heartbeat later and fired multicoloured blasts from its facets. Each ray of power curved through the air, aiming to strike at Baelin from all sides. The chancellor sensed different types of magic pouring from each beam and swept out his hands, speaking another spell.

The beams shuddered, then began weaving together, forming shining ropes and orbs of power which leapt into his palms like a trained pet. With a simple wave, Baelin launched them back at the abyssal knight.

As they whipped toward the demon, he spun in the air, his lights flaring like the sun.

A shimmering shield appeared around Ezaliel’s body, and the redirected magic wicked away like water. It struck the foliage around him, withering the greenery’s life force and warping the plants until they were turned inside out.

“Nasty array of effects,” Baelin noted. “But nothing I have not seen before. You cannot win, demon.”

“You will eventually run out of mana, wizard,” Ezaliel’s voice crackled.

“Will I?” the ancient wizard said. “Perhaps I will. Perhaps I will not. It does not matter. The only thing you are accomplishing is ruining campus gardens. As of now, you’re as much a threat to me as a common hare. Still, this grows tiring. The purpose of our little exchange has passed.“

Baelin’s eyes flicked toward the edge of the gardens.

“I’ve already taken measures to capture your scurrying little friend.”

Baelin thought he sensed a…displeasure coming from the creature.

“What do you mean?” it asked.

“I mean that your master is not the only one here who utilizes summoning magic,” the chancellor said evenly. “It is quite a handy discipline—not my personal preferred form of magic; a touch too impersonal for me—but it is one that I have mastered along with a host of others throughout the ages. My summoning was cast while I moved to confront you, so my own otherworldly servants are—at this very moment—running down your master like hounds pursuing a fresh meal.”

“I have no mortal master, wizard, and I sense no such entities.”

“It doesn’t much matter what you sense or do not sense. Just know that it is fact. Your master,” Baelin said, emphasising the word. “Is not the only one practised in magic to fool the senses. So again, this grows tiresome, why don’t you simply come quietly. I will study you for perhaps a century or so—when my time allows— and then, you can return to your domai-”

Ezaliel’s inner lights flared brightly; the world shimmered around him.

Baelin spread his hands. “Come, them. Break yourself on the walls of futility.”


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