4E 202, Battlefield outside Labyrinthian
Gerron Ironbreaker
Volsung's death was the precursor of everything changing in the battlefield. For one heartbeat, the sky was full of undead screams and dragon roars; the next, a suffocating silence rolled through the ranks as the change took hold.
The Daedra that Volsung had bound paused for a mere second, their bodies flickering like a candle in the wind only to twist back in service of the Mythic Dawn one more.
However, most of the draugr rattled into lifelessness. Their skeletal frames collapsed like rotten scaffolding. Thousands of glowing blue eyes dimmed in unison.
One battlefield—completely won.
Hadvar's triumphant roar carried over the sudden quiet. "Victory! For the Empire! FOR SKYRIM!"
The legionnaires echoed him with a ragged cheer, though their voices were thinner than they should've been. The absent set of voices among the cheer felt like cold water dumping on his body.
It was due to Renly and the other's sacrifice that he managed to push through the undead lines and lay the killing blow on Volsung. It was the sole reason and the cause of their victory. Yet Gerron did not mourn them, not yet.
The time for that will come later.
"Come on, lads! WE'RE NOT DONE YET!"
Of the fifteen hundred legionnaires who had begun this assault, barely seven hundred remained. Bloodied, ash-covered, and limping, but unbroken. He split them without hesitation.
"Hadvar! Take half. Reinforce the western line, hit the Dremora from behind!"
"Yes, sir!" Hadvar saluted before sprinting off, sword raised.
Gerron turned to the remaining men, chest rising with a heavy breath that bordered on a growl.
"The rest of you, WITH ME! We take down the vampires!"
The men roared behind him as he surged forward. The momentum had to hold. It had to.
Alduin's forces were staggering. Three Dragon Priests slain, half a dozen dragons dead.
The Mythic Dawn as well had lost Calixto and the Razor.
The vampires were the only remaining force that were virtually untouched. Their dead thralls were inconsequential. The death hounds were mere summons.
'That changed now.'
Gerron scanned the battlefield ahead.
Through the haze of magic, a duel raged. Flashes of golden light met inky black shadow. Serana's crackling storm of lightning lit the battlefield in shades of electric blue.
Harkon, suffused with the pure malice of Molag Bal, let out a cackling laughter as a force of rising darkness blasted Isran away.
Serana hurled a massive beam of lightning, only for Harkon to disperse into a swarm of bats, reappeared behind her, and kicked her with enough power to shatter a boulder.
Gerron's jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
He wanted to get there, but there lay hundreds of feet of hell between them.
Vampires. Thralls. Death hounds. The remnants of Volkihar's legion of night.
He braced his grip on Spellbreaker's hilt.
"CHARGE!"
They thundered forward.
The vampires wheeled toward them, hissing. The ground became a maelstrom of blood and steel. Gerron slammed into the first line with the force of a battering ram. Spellbreaker's blade crackled with that peculiar anti-magicka glow, each strike unraveling the sorcery that built up their bodies.
A fledgling vampire lunged and Gerron sliced. It split from collarbone to hip, the wound refusing to regenerate.
A death hound leapt at his throat. Gerron simply lifted his armored arm. The beast's jaws clamped uselessly on the plates. He drove his sword straight through its skull and wrenched it free.
"Push forward!" he shouted.
Vilkas capitalized on the chance immediately, letting out a battle cry
"On me! FOR JORVASKR!" Companions and Whiterun guards surged, striking the vampire flank.
A fresh wave of thralls barreled toward Gerron, dozens of them. Thralled Nords and Elves with dead eyes and broken wills.
Gerron cracked his neck, preparing for another bout. Only for a storm of crossbow bolts to stream overhead, ripping half the thralls apart in seconds.
Sorine Jurard screamed out. "Go! We'll cover your advance!"
The Dawnguard unleashed volley after volley, the advanced crossbows allowing them to carve holes in the vampire lines.
"Keep at it!" Sorine shouted.
The path opened then, a narrow corridor of mangled bodies.
Gerron didn't hesitate.
The sounds of war burned around him. Explosions from Isran's smiting wards, Serana's lightning raking the sky, Harkon's shadow-flames twisting through the air like serpents.
Gerron lowered his stance and tightened his grip on his sword. He charged straight through the gap, directly towards Harkon.
…
4E 202, Battlefield outside Labyrinthian
Serana Volkihar
Isran barely had time to raise a ward before Harkon's mace crashed into him. The Dawnguard's shield shattered like glass, and Isran was hurled backward.
Serana snapped her hands out, summoning a burst of conjured snow that caught him before he hit the rocks. His body skidded along the frost but didn't break.
Relief didn't last.
Harkon materialized before her in a blur of shadow, so fast the air whipped around her.
Pain detonated through her as his crimson-edged sword pierced through her shoulder, sliding between bones like he were cutting paper.
Serana screamed.
Her father leaned close, breath cold, eyes burning with predatory delight.
"Oh, daughter… " His voice dripped disdain. "Of all the gods, Meridia was the one to bless you. The Lady of Infinite Energies gives you what? Immunity to sunlight? A parlor trick for beings such as we." He tilted his head mockingly. "No wonder you are the weakest of us Champions."
Serana tried to summon lightning, rage sparking in her veins. But Harkon's hand clamped around her throat, lifting her effortlessly off the ground.
"It truly is a shame." His tone lowered, far too gentle for the way his claws dug into her skin. "When your mother fled to the Soul Cairn, I considered pursuing her. A daughter's blood is needed for the Tyranny of the Sun. Yours… or hers."
Serana's fingers clawed at his wrist, but his strength dwarfed hers. She could barely breathe.
"When I learned you had awakened from your tomb," he murmured, "I waited. Patiently. Expectantly. Foolishly." His eyes darkened. "How disappointed I was."
Serana swallowed down a sob and charged her hand with crackling electricity. Yet Harkon moved faster. His sword left her shoulder and plunged into her ribs. Hot blood filled her mouth instantly. Serana gagged, vision swimming red.
"No matter," he whispered. "You will not die. But you will be unable to interfere. It is time for the prophecy to be fulfilled."
Tears blurred her vision, mixing with blood as she glared up at him, the monster she once called father.
Then, the wind cracked. A presence was moving towards them at high speeds.
Harkon's head snapped left just as he ripped his blade out of Serana's side and swung, meeting the Spellbreaker Sword in a thunderous clash that displaced the snow around them.
The shockwave burst outward, flinging frost and debris like shrapnel. Even Harkon staggered back a step, grunting as he clashed with someone who matched his strength for the very first time.
Gerron growled. "Oi. Hands off."
He swung his empty hand down, the Mercury Hammer manifesting mid-swing. The impact sent Harkon flying backward like a ragdoll.
Serana's knees buckled. She started to fall, only for Gerron to catch her before she met the ground.
Her breath came out shaky, but she still managed a weak smile.
"You alright?" he asked, voice low and strangely soft amid the chaos.
A small, relieved laugh escaped her despite the pain. "What took you so long?"
"Running across a battlefield apparently takes time." He eased her down onto the mound of soft conjured snow, propping her against it carefully.
Serana winced. "His sword… did something to my magic. I need some time."
"Got it."
An eerie, gurgling chuckle drifted through the air as Harkon strode out of the drifting snow, bruised pride visible even under layers of shadow.
"Ah… the Craftsman," he hissed. "Bearer of the Forge Eternal."
"Funny," Gerron quipped as he stood, the hammer dismissing from his grip. "You sure know a lot for someone who spent centuries sulking in a castle."
The Spellbreaker Sword was brandished in one hand, the Spell Shield forming in the other.
'The hammer is useless against a quick opponent.' Serana realized. 'But the Spellbreaker Sword… it disrupts vampiric regeneration. That gives Gerron an edge.'
Harkon raised both weapons. The vampiric longsword, still stained with her blood, and the Mace of Molag Bal, pulsing green veins visible on its head.
"If you believe taunts will stir rage in me," Harkon said coldly, "you are gravely mistaken, worm."
"Good," Gerron replied. "It'd be way too boring otherwise."
Serana shut her eyes, forcing deep breaths. She knew she needed to be quick.
Harkon's blade had the ability to channel a bit of his blood into his opponent, using the essence to disrupt the flow of magicka, thus rendering them incapable of casting spells. She would need to purge it from her body., peeling it away piece by piece.
A falling flake of snow was the unseen signal as Gerron and Harkon collided in a violent dance.
The power of a demigod met the strength of a Daedric-enhanced Vampire Lord.
Just then, a brilliant flare of holy light erupted behind them.
Isran charged back into the fray, wounds closing in streaks of radiant gold, his entire form shining like a vengeful star.
A warhammer of light formed in his hands as he roared at the top of his lungs. "ROUND TWO, ASSHOLE!"
…
AN: Happy new year everyone! Hope your holidays were good and happy, cause mine sure was.
Sorry for the long absence since I was out on a vacation. But a trip to Malaysia with the family fully recovered my creative juices and I'm back into writing.
Now, for proper chapter comments.
All Champions get benefits from their godly counterparts. However, Serana got the sort of short end of the stick by being a vampire, but blessed by Meridia.
Despite her statement of being benevolent, Serana in the end, is still undead. An existence completely horrid to Meridia.
Compared to the gifts that Gerron received (the Forge Eternal, which is of course a fancy word for the Artificer System, as well as the body of a Demigod), Serana's gifts are paltry.
As I've mentioned a few other times, Harkon is currently the second most powerful existence in all of Skyrim. Second only to Alduin. I hope I properly portrayed that.
ANYWAYS, I felt kind of bad for how long I left this fic to rot so I gave out a promise for another period of sale for my Patreon. For the next two weeks, everything will be discounted by 50%. Just make sure to use the code JANSALE26 and you'll get it! Make sure to check it out before its over!
More chapters are available on my Pat_reon. Chapter 91 should be available by the time this chapter is posted. Just look up my name, TeemVizzle, and you'll find me.
Cheers guys and see you next time!