Unconquered Tower

FIFTY-ONE

Roan barely had time to curse before the next Dreadhawk was upon them. It had less luck as Taoya launched himself from the deck in burst of light, his scream of rage loud even in the howling winds. The man’s massive fist hit the Dreadhawk square in the chest and the creature exploded into a cloud of black blood.

Taoya landed off the boat on the Deadlands, but he bounded forward, running as fast as the ships. Whatever energy he’d used to kill the Dreadhawk, he’d regained from stealing its momentum. Roan couldn’t focus on Taoya as more Dreadhawks began to fall like rain upon them.

His polearm jerked forward at the closest of the beasts. Its long talons caught the edge of the axe blade, tightening around it as if it would fly off with his weapon. Then the enchanted steel cut right through the talons, sending the body parts to the ground. The Dreadhawks screeched in pain, its wings flapping as it tried to gain altitude. Roan stabbed forward, the speartip piercing its breast.

With a guttural cry the Dreadhawk’s massive leather wings stopped beating and it fell upon the deck with a loud thump. Roan ripped the spear tip out and was rewarded with a kill notification.

POOR GRADE

DREADHAWK (CORRUPTED)

100 CREDITS

Roan spun and slammed the hammer down on a Dreadhawk’s wing, the beast reaching for Tev’s hunched over form. Fragile bones broke and it flopped to the deck, flapping its three remaining wings in a desperate attempt to rise. Roan flipped the polearm around and beheaded it with the axe, sending its beaked head to the ground in a splatter of hot blood.

Heat was rising from his polearm, the enchantments working as they burned away the black blood. Roan jumped to the top of Tev’s little hut and stood defiant against the swarm. His polearm blurred as he used all his strength and speed.

None of his blows were instantly fatal, but none of the Dreadhawks rose again after they were hit with his weapon. Bones snapped, wings were clipped, and bodies were twisted under the powerful attacks. Roan couldn’t stop if he wanted to, the mass of Dreadhawks had blotted out the sun. His entire world became leathery wings and snapping beaks.

The speartip began to glow having stolen so much life force from the Dreadhawks. Roan ducked and fell to his back, instinct warning him. A spiked tail swished through the air he’d just been. Roan looked to see what had nearly killed him and swallowed hard.

Mixed into the murder of Dreadhawks was a much larger form. Three times the size of the corrupted birds it looked more sure of itself as its six wings beat furiously. Unlike the Dreadhawks there was no inflatable chest, it was a solid creature of muscle and sinew, muscling its way up into the murder with massive beats of its wings.

“Tev! What is that?” Roan asked.

“Wyvern!” She yelled back. Roan groaned and flopped down to the deck, stabbing a struggling Dreadhawk through its head. The beast went still and he kicked it to the side. The entire deck was littered with the dead monsters, but they circled above the caravan now, waiting for something.

Roan figured they were waiting on the wyvern. He looked over the deck with one eye while keeping an eye on the circling flock. Taoya was running to the side, drenched head to toe in black blood with sparks of lightning zipping off of him.

“He’s fully charged. Should be able to kill the wyvern if he can land a clean shot. Which means I get to be bait.” roan thought he could possibly kill the massive wyvern, but he knew that Taoya could. Because if a fully charged Taoya couldn’t kill it, then they were all going to die.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Hope he’s ready for this,” Roan muttered. He needed to ground the wyvern, keep it pinned down long enough for it Taoya to hit it. And getting it pinned to the ground meant leaving the ship.

“Tev, how much further?”

“Fifty minutes.” Roan and Taoya could move as fast as the ships at a full sprint. They could reach the sanctuary on foot easily enough. Now all he had to do was figure out how to get the wyvern to attack them.

“If the’re all corrupted my bloodline will cure them. Which, as fucked up as they are, might kill them. Now the question is, will this cause them to chase me or flee?” Roan stepped into the center of the deck and calmed himself down with a series of slow breaths. He thought back to how his bloodline had flared to life when he’d consumed the dragon core.

The feeling was easy to find, dragging it out of himself was much harder. The shaft of the polearm began to glow, the black blood on it sizzling. An aura of cleansing light burned out of the weapon, the enchantments amplifying his bloodline. Then the blood around him began to pop and boil away.

Dreadhawks screeched in rage and wheeled away, rising up, their bodies inflating further. The wyvern on the other hand roared in challenge, six wings beating furiously as it turned toward Roan. Its mouth opened and showed a mouth full of fangs, thousands of them like shark teeth.

“I’ll meet you at the sanctuary!” Roan shouted toward the closest of the climbers who were still alive. The man looked at him and looked confused, but Roan was already moving. He leapt and landed hard, his knees protesting instantly. Momentum carried him and he was forced to roll or risk having things break.

Roan sprang to his feet just in time to see the wyvern begin to dive toward him. Taoya was over a hundred yards away, but he could cut that distance quickly. Roan just had to get the wyvern to land and pin it down for a few minutes. He crouched down, waiting for the monster.

It slammed into the ground, its legs holding itself up. The beast had to be twenty feet tall when it stretched its long neck all the way. Its dagger head looked down on him, eight muddy brown eyes staring at him with keen intelligence. Along its barrel body growths pushed out from its leathery skin, small wiggling tentacles that twisted and danced every way.

“Oh, that’s gross,” Roan muttered. What mattered was its back was to Taoya. Roan just had to keep it occupied for another minute or so. He inched forward and the big head swung toward him, a blast of air rushing out of the creature’s mouth. It stank like decay, thick enough that he could taste it through the scarf.

Repressing a gag, Roan darted forward. On its hind legs the wyvern had given up its greatest advantage, but all eight eyes were locked on the glowing polearm that was pulsing his bloodline into the world. Its head dipped down in a blur of teeth and scales. Roan threw himself to the side just as the head slammed into the earth.

Dirt rose in an explosion, coating them and blocking part of his view. Roan stabbed where he’s seen the neck and was rewarded by feeling a drain on his body, his bloodline attempting to purify the wyvern. The handle of his polearm heated up, the life drain instantly heating the metal.

The wyvern screeched and its wings beat furiously, throwing back all of the dust and battling the approaching dust storm from the caravan’s passage. Roan felt his feet sliding as he was pushed back by the galestorm-like winds.

The wyvern’s neck was bleeding black blood to the ground. All around the small wound steam rose up, pustules rising and popping, the small tentacles all around it limp. A small wound, but it had been dangerous for the wyvern. Roan felt a wave of weakness strike him, his knees threatening to buckle.

“That was a lot more than I thought,” Roan muttered, moving to the side. The wyvern’s head tracked him, not paying attention to its surrounding at all. The pinprick that Roan had given it had pissed it off enough that it couldn’t look away from him if it tried.

It leaned forward, hunched over and close to the ground. Its six wings spread out to help balance itself as it took a step forward. Roan licked his lips and got ready for another exchange. He could land one more before his bloodline drained his body of what little mana he had and left him exhausted.

Blood splattered Roan as the wyvern exploded. From its hips to its neck its body simply ceased to be. Heavy wet thumps echoed as bits of the mob hit the ground, but it seemed the majority of it found its way to coat Roan.

“Took him long enough.”