The Forsaken Hero

With a final pulse of light, the magic circles vanished and the Ice Spirit manifested in the clouds above, finally taking on solid form. Snow, ice, and storm clouds all flowed together to give the elemental form, condensing into a five-hundred-foot-long serpent. It slithered through the air like a water snake in a river, coiling tightly around one of the main towers of the central citadel.

The fortress’s defenses came alive around it, and arrows, spells, and streams from the magical artillery collided with the spirit in blinding explosions of light and mana. It hissed furiously and tightened its coils, shattering the tower and defenders atop it.

It was in this moment the shockwave emanating from its emergence swept over us. It was visible only as a distortion traveling at unimaginable speeds and bringing a wave of arctic winds. They slammed into the towers and buildings of the citadel with the fury of a hurricane, shredding the flapping banners and toppling battlements and defenders alike. Many of the towers, such as the one I stood within, were already destabilized by the force of the summoning. Screams rose and fell beneath the howl of the winds as chunks of wall and tower rained from the sky, crushing soldiers and civilians alike.

I stood among it all, my hair lashing in the wind, a small, satisfied smile twisting my lips. I could feel the bond with the Ice Spirit alive and powerful, pulsing in time with my heart. It responded to the terrible emptiness inside me, the cold rage and despair, with a vengeance, taking out my anger on the citadel. The powerful, ninth-level crystal was nothing more than decoration before an enemy already within the city. It granted a host of support and buff effects to the city defenders, but those mattered little against such an overwhelming force. Buildings cracked and broke beneath its tremendous bulk, and soldiers disappeared by the squad into its maw. Even the mighty, reinforced walls and towers trembled before its presence, breaking apart like paper the moment it directed an attack at them.

My joy in the devastation of the world was interrupted as a figure appeared in the swirling gales of snow and stars around me. Their soul was weak, barely fifth-level, but they struggled forward, the long ribbon tied around their waist flapping in the winds. I frowned as I recognized the currents of my mana protecting them from the worst of the storm, which had climbed to sixth level in intensity.

Were they trying to stop me? Annoyed by the prospect, I unleashed more of the mana of the shard and increased the intensity of the storm. When they refused to falter, I flicked my hand and soulcast a blade ward directly in their path. The golden shimmer was hidden by the storm, and they stumbled as they rebounded off of it. Good, perhaps that would–

Without breaking a step, they struck forward with their fist, and the Blade Ward shattered. I tried snatching them with a Binding Winds, but even though they failed to see it in time, they walked right through it without slowing. With each step, and with each of my failed tactics, I grew more frustrated. Several times, I attempted to use offensive magic, only to recoil as the Divine Curse shook my soul. Why couldn’t I stop them? Why weren’t any of my defenses working?

Soon, all of my attention was on this intruder, this demon who sought to interfere with the hand of my vengeance. I could tell they were exhausted, worn down by the storm and the effort of breaking my spells, yet they pressed on doggedly. Before I could ready myself for a physical confrontation, they arrived before me.

I flinched back a step and raised my staff, channeling all of my mana into the Blade Ward surrounding me. Mustering what looked like the last of their strength, the figure lunged forward. Their fist struck my shield once, then twice. The first blow sent jagged cracks spiderwebbing across the sphere, the second sent it dissipating into ribbons of light. Before I could react, they were on me.