But the demon seemed unfazed and pressed the attack with renewed fury. The demon gained ground quickly, pushing back the priest, thought Lyrad could tell the man was fading quickly.
Teryn reached into his magic holding bag and grabbed the Swords of Valor. One by one, he thrust them into the ground with all his might. The force was great enough that it sent Lange Du Mort flying backward several feet.
The demon looked at the swords on the ground and then back up at the mage who had thrown them. Teryn’s eyes glowed with pain and hatred, making him look so much more imposing than he had mere moments before.
Teryn then channeled his magic into the blades. As he did so, he reached out with his mind to the other wizards and brought them out of their trance of fear, joining their minds and their magic with his and channeling their wills into the swords as well.
* * * * * * * * * *
Lange Du Mort’s dark eyes went wide as the demon took in the young mage’s actions, understanding finally dawning. It all made sense now – the mage’s crazy plan, its master’s true intent, and the part it was to play in all of this.
The demon didn’t like it one bit.
The tiniest hint of fear entered the demon’s eyes. For a brief moment, it wondered if it could beat them all. Buck fate, hack down the fool wizard and his minions where they stood, and then turn and kill its master.
Lange Du Mort brought its scythe to bear and slashed wildly at young Teryn, but where the blade should have sunken deep into the boy’s flesh, it instead clanged against a bright blue wall of energy emanating out from the kid, turning and bouncing off like a bit of rubber.
Lange Du Mort recoiled in horror and turned then to flee the battlefield. Let this stupid mage have his victory, but let it be hollow. It was the only hope now.
The wraith fought with all its might, but found it could no longer move. The magic that Teryn and the others were calling forth had locked the creature into place.
A long, loud wail escaped the wraith’s skeletal mouth as it raged against the Fhyrrstorm, swept up in its gruesome power.
* * * * * * * * * *
Lyrad gazed out at the demon Lange Du Mort, eyes wide. The wraith was completely stunned, a strange blue light starting to envelop the man as Teryn’s magic went to work.
He sensed that his combat skills would no longer be needed, so he let go of their magic and they returned to the ether.
He turned his attention back to the wizards. He saw Valeria on the ground and almost went to her side, but he sensed a powerful spell working on her and knew she would be safe in the coming struggle.
So instead, he went around to the various wizards and cast strengthening spells on them to bolster their vigor.
Off to his side, Lionel dropped to his knees, Tont quickly following suit. Even with his magic, the mages were fading fast.
“Hang on just a little longer,” he told Aaron, who fell to the ground next, eyes sunken and heavy, breath coming in short spurts. All around him, he could hear the wind howl as Teryn’s spell picked up in speed.
“Just a little bit longer, and we can all rest.”
He renewed his efforts, tossing more healing spells Aaron’s way. The mage slowly got back to his feet and his chants started up again.
Lyrad gritted his teeth and went over to the next wizard, placing his hands on their shoulders and chanting his viriboost spell, the magic washing over him.
It wasn’t much, but he hoped it would be enough to turn the tides in their favor.
* * * * * * * * * *
Teryn’s lips curled into a snarl. All of his attention was focused on casting his spell and ending the existence of Lange Du Mort. He looked down at the Swords of Valor and saw a bright blue flame erupt from their hilts, running up and down the cool metal of the blades.
Instinctively, he knew it was time. Teryn reached into the core of his being to active the most dangerous, most forbidden Tytin magic of all.
“FHYRRSTORM!” came the command from his lips. It was but a single word, yet it carried with it unimaginable devastation.
The blue flame that had consumed the Swords of Valor immediately responded to the chanting of the word by surrounding the wizards with its flames, protecting them from all harm while they continued to fuel the spell with their energy. The incantation greedily ate up every ounce of energy they fed it, and in turn it grew stronger and more destructive.
The spell tore apart the wizard armies first. It started with a few simple tremors, and then the ground beneath them cracked and heaved every which way with a loud creak and a sigh.
Entire sections of the Guild’s main buildings closest to the army crumbled to the ground as the people inside them screamed in mortal agony, escape no longer an option as they fell into the cracks in the earth.
Then some of the wizard warriors and priests felt the earth beneath them disappear, the strange sensation of weightlessness taking them over for a moment, until they realized their fate, ushering out blood-curdling screams as they fell to their deaths, all the way down to the center of Kallor itself.
Still others cried and begged their friends to hold onto them and pull them out of the giant chasms that appeared, but soon enough these victims fell prey to the spell as well.
After several minutes, the ground’s wrath was quelled, and the remnants of Xerczan army felt safe. Right as they started to relax, the sky darkened as black clouds
