Chapter 18

Zoey smiled.

Abaddon was still speechless.

Ashura was still wondering what the *bleep* was going on.

Their breath turned to mist in the air. The ground and walls were being covered in frost, stemming from the light.

"Zoey...." Abaddon whipered.

"I know why you've come Nathaniel. The Akantor is marshalling what could only be described as an army. You need the power to destroy it - and its cohorts." Zoey said, her tone had shifted from a soft melody, to a hard, cold, tactical voice.

"Yes, that's why I came, I need your help. Though - I didn't expect to see you in person..." Abaddon's voice was almost cracking.

Once again Zoey's tone changed, back to the soft, caring voice she had welcomed them with, and also her face melted into a soft smile. "And you also seek forgiveness - for "liking" Her."" She winked.

Abaddon blushed, and looked away slightly.

The spectre giggled and said: "You need not worry, I'm happy for you. Now... to business - I'm afraid you are not going to like what's about to happen."


Abaddon turned his eyes to her once more. "Why?" He asked.


"Take the sword, wrap the pendant around the hilt..." She sighed. "And then stab me."

Abaddon look shocked, and truely, truely disheartened - After years of being alone in agony, He finally was able to see and talk to the love of his life - and now she was asking him to kill her.


"It's the only way." She said.


She kneeled down, put her hand under his chin, leaned in and kissed him a kiss that was so cold it froze his lips and looked into his tear filled eyes.

She held out the sword and the pendant.

Nathaniel took them, tied the lace of the pendant around the handle and stood up.

He took a deep breathe, closed his eyes for a few minutes, just breathing, feeling the weight of the sword, immensely heavy in his hands - as though it had been replaced by the obsidian block.

He pulled his feet from the layer of frost covering them, he widened his stance.





He lunged.

There was a feeling as though he had plunged the sword into snow, rather than flesh.

He heard a slight gasp.

He felt the tears freeze on his cheeks.

He opened his eyes - Zoey was no longer there.

Something was changing.

The sword's blade became longer, narrower, it took on more of a leaf like shape, with four small backward curving blades at the back, the handle longer, the black leather became a dark, saphire blue, the pommel was larger, and four steel claws held the uncut stone of the pendant in place, the guard changed, the front guard, the one that went over the fingers, took on a look resembling the wing of a bat - or demon, the other guard - over the wrist, took on the likeness of a bird's wing, or an angel's, ancient Wyverian text flashed blue on the blade.

The blade became frosty, a frost that would never leave it.

The metal of the blade itself shone like a silver star.

His armour changed too, the dark, stained cloth of the robes melded with the azure scales and plates of his Azure Ratholos armour, the shape changed to something smoother, spiny in places, and all round a smaller looking suit of gleaming black scales, almost as if somebody were to make a ratholos out of obsidian and turn it into a suit that made Abaddon's tall, lanky figure look like it had marched straight out of Hell to judge the earth.


Abaddon sheathed the sword, shouldered his bow and quiver and left Zoey's tomb, knowing that She would never leave Him again.

Loved it Nick. Awsome writing, very intricate details about the blade and armour. Congrats on another appeasing chapter.

Finally! Its good to see you writing again, Leviathen. Once I can come back regularly, I'll be following your fanfic carefully.

quote

"And then stab me."

Thats going to do a lot for his mental health, isn't it?

quote Dragonbuster91

Finally! Its good to see you writing again, Leviathen. Once I can come back regularly, I'll be following your fanfic carefully.

Yay! I'm getting my readers back!

quote Fire Squall

Thats going to do a lot for his mental health, isn't it?

I'd guess not.

Nicely written Sul, even if I am a little confused as to whats going on, it'll probably clear up for me soon enough.

Chapter 19

They stepped out into the night, a more familiar sight greeted Abaddon.

The house was a burned out ruin, moss covering the cracked flagstones and bricks, windows gone, walls caved in, and the ceiling a pile of rubble scattered about the house.

There was a light rain and a lot of mist clinging at the ground.

There was a stench in the air.

The two advanced a down the pathway on the long walk back to the wagon.

“This seems a bit more like it.” Abaddon remarked.

The sounds of battle reached their ears, a long with a series of animalistic roars.

The two drew their bows and nocked arrows before running down the path at full sprint.

When they reached the end of the pathway they saw the two Cathulii accompanying them standing on top of the wagon, using their tomahawks to try and fend off a horde of rotten, stinking creatures.

Abaddon giggled to himself when a spark of realisation hit him.

“This is the first family reunion I’ve been to since I was a child.” He said lightly.

They loosed their arrows into the ranks of the undead, and continued to do so until they had no arrows left, out of the two dozen arrows fired, two creatures were dropped, and a few others perforated.

“Okay, so they are very hard to kill, do we rush in and cut them up? Or just rush at them and cut them up in a tactical manner?” Ashura asked.

“I say we just do the easy thing.”

Abaddon drew his frosty blade, the silvery metal gleaming in the rain and the moonlight.

Ashura drew the Supremacy Blade inspecting its blade with his usual admiration.

The two charged into the horde – Abaddon leapt and crashed into the top of the creatures, taking off a head as he fell, Ashura slid underneath them, cutting the legs off of many.

The pair regained their balanced and started to arc their blades through the horde, a whirling ballet of sliced flesh and bone and spraying corpse juices.

They hacked their way around the wagon, moving in alternating circles, trying to take the pressure off the two escorts holding off the ones that got past, giving Abaddon and Ashura time to carve another swathe.

As he sliced another pair of rotten assailants into pieces, he noticed that the wounds he caused filled with frost, and needle like icicles – the sword grew lighter.

Abaddon took note of this and put it to use by slicing in wider, faster arcs.

The horde continued to press in – never seeming to let up.

Ashura noticed that other people were joining in the fight, but not who, just grateful for the fact there was a chance that they would not be torn to shreds by ravenous monsters.

After a while the undead ranks began to thin out, until Abaddon had plunged his blade into the skull of a legless one that was trying to chew through his armoured ankle to little avail.

The two lowered their swords and looked towards their saviours apparent, then raised their swords again in a flash, chests heaving from exhaustion.

The marks on the armour of the hunters that had helped them, were emblems of the guild.

Wait a minute, you've lost me. Where did the zombies come from?

quote Dragonbuster91

Wait a minute, you've lost me. Where did the zombies come from?

Next chapter shall explain it.

Good, as usual. Seemed a bit choppy, and could have been longer, but it was good. At least there was some action...

Oh, and DAMN THE SUSPENSE!

Chapter 20

Abaddon’s chest heaved, his shoulders ached from the effort of hacking through so many bodies.

Ashura limped, the edge of his sword rested on the ground.

There was a reek of rot and decay in the air.

The group of hunters walked slowly towards them, imperfections and damage on their armour becoming apparent as they got closer.

The Cathulii jumped down from the cart and stood by Abaddon; the four raised their weapons and took deep breaths.

“Stay your weapons – we mean you no harm.” The lead hunter said. He flipped up his visor, and a skull’s empty sockets stared back at them.

“We are not the mindless beasts that those were.” He said gesturing to the pile of hacked up corpses on the ground.

Abaddon did not speak, just kept his weapon raised and ready to strike.

Despite the fact that skeletons have no lungs it managed to sigh. “Very well, I see you need an explanation. We who stand before you now are your ancestors, hunters, as you can see. When we died, like all your relatives we were entombed here, as it has been for centuries, the wyverians made all hunters interred here guardians of this home, but some ignorant fool who did not see the purpose of hunters, and indeed did not like us made sure that all others that died and buried here would attack hunters that came here. It fell to us to make sure that this did not happen, with our combined wills, we were able to prevent it from happening, When your Zoey was buried here, she too joined us, the more there are of us, the less effort we need to dedicate to stop the dead rising, when you took Zoey away, we did not expect it, it left a gap, the dead saw that hunters were on the grounds, and did as they were expected, they rose and attacked, as did we, but being hunters ourselves and the original protectors this left a loophole, so we retained our minds… happy?”

“Almost.” Abaddon growled. “Who are you?”

“Chieftain Suladin, leader of one of the more prestigious tribes of desert nomads to have walked this earth, and first patriarch to be interred here and we are here to help.”

“Okaaay… right, I guess that makes… very little sense but what the hell, hop aboard, we need every sword arm we can get.”

The group of hunters, both living and decidedly not quite so living climbed aboard the cart and they set off to the tower.

After about a mile they had to stop and dig out chunks of dead people out of the wheels.



They arrived at the meeting point south of the tower shortly before sunrise, when they got there they saw a massive gathering of people: what seemed like hundreds of Cathulii warriors, local mercenaries, the hunters and guards from the village whose chieftain Abaddon had saved at this very place. And now Abaddon was here with his small cohort.

Abaddon and Ashura greeted the Cathulii chief, and the village chief before heading to set up a tent, get some food and a few hours sleep before the upcoming battle.

Armour scraped of chunks of flesh, and polished, Abaddon shouldered his Profusion, with his new sword sheathed at his side.

Everybody was assembled outside, standing in disciplined ranks ready for action, Abaddon walked to the front, loaded a magazine of pierce rounds into the magazine well, and yanked back the cocking lever.

Ashura tested the sharpness of his Supremacy Blade and found it satisfactory.

They made sure they had strapped on their armour’s plates properly, before whacking each other on the shoulder and waiting for the marshalling of troops to finish.

His ears filled with the sound of his heartbeat, the battle cries of warriors around him, and the long, slow, deliberate and haunting breathe of the undead warriors beside him, for the first time in a long time, Abaddon was scared.

Pretty *bleep*ing cool man! Undead warriors, A huuuuuuge legion of warriors...this is going to be one HELL of an epic battle.

i love it sully! keep going!

Chapter 21

The army shipped out to march the last bit of distance to the tower, armed to the teeth and in a bloodlust – they were all ready for what was to come.

When they finally rounded the corner the fire on the top of the tower was still raging and stronger than ever, the entire structure was wreathed in flames.

The air was hot and full of the sound of beating wings, the clouds of wyverns almost blotted out the sun.

“Pleaaaase tell me that *bleep*er is not still forcing out sprogs, that’s the last thing we need… an army of Akant-lets.” Ashura moaned

“I doubt it.” Abaddon replied “ It’s backside would be the size of a mountain and if I’m not mistaken… it’s on the middle level of the tower staring us down.”

“How do you know these things?”

“Because I can see it looking at us through a hole in the wall.” Abaddon said pointing.

And true enough, the gleam of red eyes was shining out of the flames.

There was a shriek and a whooshing noise, far above them a group of Ratholos had spotted the mass of people below and was swooping down.

The various chieftains shouted orders, the army scattered and ran across the bridge and scattered themselves, others took up positions between rocks and in ditches, anywhere there was cover.

The sound of hundreds of arrows being pulled and bowguns being cocked filled the air.

Abaddon aimed his Profusion skyward, and started the attack by spewing a dozen pierce shots into the heavens. The surrounding hunters loosed their shots into the air, the Ratholos retaliated by spewing fire balls down.

Arrows burned in mid air, shots exploded into tiny shreds of metal, essentially turning bullets into flak.

The Ratholos flew straight into the flak and remaining shots, unable to manoeuvre quickly due to their momentum. At least six of them were torn to shreds in mid dive, the others pulled out and spewed more flames at the hunters.

The corpses crashed to the ground crushing a few warriors, the Ratholos that crashed ended up as broken things that could only be described as puddles of meat, scale, blood and bone.

More wyverns heard the battle and glided over.

Rathians alighted on the far side of the bridge and charged in all directions.
Abaddon reloaded and swung his gun’s barrel to face the new threat.

He sprayed bullets into the largest of them, the pierce rounds shredding their way through the scales and plates, their coats disintegrating steadily until only the cores remained lodged deep in the monster.

She screeched in pain at him, and spewed a sheet of flame in front of her as she barrelled through a line of swordsmen to get Abaddon.

He leapt onto her head and rolled down its back, jamming the long bayonet into the base of the Rathian’s tail.


He rolled over and gained some grip between plates, the Rathian tried to turn her head round to face him, but couldn’t turn it far enough to incinerate him with roasting her wings to boot.

She backflipped in an attempt to dislodge him. He hung on tight.

When it landed again he wrenched the cruel bayonet free, and stabbed it into the Rathians back further up, and dragged himself along its body, it flipped again, but lost altitude and fall heavily on it’s front. He withdrew and stabbed further up again, and continued this up to the base of its neck, streaked with blood he stabbed again, deeper, the Rathian’s legs fell out from under her, paralyzed.

Abaddon loaded a cluster shot, jumped down from the stricken wretch’s back and stabbed into its face and fired the explosive round into her nostril.

He ran.

The Rathian’s skull was strong, and held most of the resulting explosion, but out of the mouth, ears, eyes and nostrils spewed flames, boiling blood and roasted brain matter, fangs shot out as shrapnel and embedded themselves in the ground.

Abaddon got up and dusted himself off.

Coming in from the sky was a Garuga, with worrying amounts of pink fur that could only be from a Congalala scattered on its stomach and legs.

He scratched his chin in wonderment, then he took aim through Profusion’s scope and put a pierce round down its neck.

Abaddon grabbed his last magazine of pierce shots and slotted it in.

A pack of velociprey came charging out of the tower after having heard cries of their species in the battle outside.

A Ratholos was flying low, bathing the field in fire, Abaddon turned around and put a bullet in it, then jumped up and grabbed a hold of its leg while it recoiled its head in pain.

In a rush of fire and wind they flew over the bridge.

He sprayed bullets into the pack, stabbed the Ratholos in the gut then let go of the wyvern and plunged bayonet first straight onto the lead animal.

The landing was considerably more jolting than he had expected, the ‘prey that broke his fall fared a lot worse than he however, its legs were broken and the spines on Abaddon’s armour had stabbed straight into it.

With a whirl it was decapitated.

Abaddon twirled again and drew crimson lines in the air with the bayonet, he stabbed into the last ‘prey and looked back across the bridge.

Arrows and bullets were still filling the air, flames covering the ground, alongside bloody and broken wrecks that were once wyverns and indescribable piles of burnt meat that were once hunters.

Suladin was clinging onto the back of an Iodrome while attempting to twist its head off.

The Cathulii chief was hacking into a Garuga alongside his bodyguards.

All that could be seen of Ashura was a sweeping blade cutting into velociprey and wyverns sending spray upon spray of crimson into the sky.

For now it seemed that the battle was going in the favour of humanity – which needless to say made Abaddon feel a bit more relieved.

Then he turned around – the room in which the Akantor had been watching the battle had lost its glint of red eyes.

A Shakalaka leapt at Abaddon, he drew his sword in a wide arc and split it into two pieces – mid leap – in one movement.

He sheathed his sword and looked back towards the tower.

There was a rumbling, a part of the tower exploded outwards, and in a hail of rubble the Akantor dove to the ground.

It landed and shook the earth, it reared up on its hind legs and used its sonic blast to destroy the bridge before turning its attention to Abaddon himself.

It roared, its spikes erected themselves and its scales turned the colour of wildfire.

He was all alone on this side of the bridge, being faced with the most dangerous and pissed off pseudo-wyvern in the world.

Abaddon raised his Profusion.

He gulped.

WOOOH! I can't wait for the next chapter. This one was *bleep*ing EPIC! Props and Cake for you, Levi ole pal!

quote

“Chieftain Suladin, leader of one of the more prestigious tribes of desert nomads to have walked this earth, and first patriarch to be interred here and we are here to help.”

Nice couple of chapters there, Leviathen.

quote

Coming in from the sky was a Garuga, with worrying amounts of pink fur that could only be from a Congalala scattered on its stomach and legs.

Garugas... bloody freaks, the lot of them.