CHAPTER 48: THE HARVEST OF SHADOWS AND THE REALM OF BLOOD
Just beyond Nexan's shattered walls, on the frozen soil of the Ice Realm, the air suddenly tensed and cracked. The sky was torn by two giant fissures; two portals encircled by a thick, velvety darkness that seemed to swallow even the light. In the same millisecond, Flower and Flem, veins bulging on their foreheads, had focused all their magical energy into a single point. Their lungs burning, they muttered a single word: "Open." The impossible had happened. The portals opened directly into the very heart of Nexan's defenseless northern city-states, like a dagger.
King Task rose majestically upon his muscular steed. He raised his sword, which reflected the cold glint of steel, towards the twilight. In his eyes glittered a desire for victory sharper than glaciers and a savage pleasure. His booming voice, rising from his lungs, echoed across the frozen plain: "ALL MY ARMY! PASS THROUGH THESE BLACK GATES! AND TEAR OUT THE HEART OF NEXAN! THE WAR... HAS BEGUN!"
And like a river, disciplined and deadly, the massive army in glacial armor began to flow into the devouring maws of the two black portals. Dawn refused to break; the sky was still cloaked in shades of purple and grey. But on earth, a man-made apocalypse had already sprouted.
RAFTAL – THE EDGE OF CHAOS
Seeing the portal open, the people and city lords were first struck by an instant, numb shock, followed by an avalanche of panic that erupted like a dam breaking. Screams filled the air. But panic could not stop the orderly, crushing advance of the Ice Army. Like a glacial flood, they were flowing at full speed towards the fleeing Nexan people.
Within minutes, the main army completed its passage. Before the portals, the last four figures appeared. King Task, scanning the battlefield with cold eyes; Morde, with a mysterious smile on his lips; and Flower and Flem, pale-faced from magical fatigue. Task's voice was sharp and clear like a bugle: "LEAVE NO ONE ALIVE, SOLDIER OR CIVILIAN ALIKE! TODAY IS THE LAST DAY FOR NEXAN! ATTACK!"
The order was carried out without question. The ice warriors raised their final assault with war cries.
At that moment, Alfonso, lord of Raftal, climbed onto a castle step and shouted with all his might. His voice momentarily overpowered even the noise of the clash: "MY PEOPLE! OTHER LORDS! LISTEN TO ME! THERE IS NO TIME TO FEAR! IT WILL TAKE THEM FIVE MINUTES TO REACH HERE! EVERYONE, FASTER THAN EVER, TO THE PASSAGE! DON'T WAIT IN LINE! CHILDREN, WOMEN, THE ELDERLY FIRST! SOLDIERS, MINGLE IN BETWEEN! THE CAPITAL NEEDS US, WE CANNOT DIE HERE! COME ON, MOVE!"
The desperate crowd found some direction with this command. Dozens, hundreds of people formed a human tide towards the passage, pushing and shoving each other, amidst tears and prayers.
URUG CAPITAL – THE CIVILIAN DELUGE
At the same millisecond, the capital passage in Urug flashed with a dazzling light. From within, thousands of people, covered in dust, faces etched with pure terror, began tumbling out. King Swain watched this tragic scene from the castle balcony, his face expressionless like a stone mask. Beside him were Kai, Po, Terex, Amper, and Vlad. Each was searching for familiar faces among the arrivals.
Swain's order was quick and sharp: "Amper! Direct the civilians immediately to the safe cities at the rear. Put the soldiers in combat position. RIGHT NOW!"
"As you command, My King!" Amper shot into the square like an arrow, his shouts beginning to organize the soldiers.
Meanwhile, Vlad's eyes were on the last people exiting the passage, especially a particular face. He couldn't see him. His fists clenched so tight his bones creaked. A word, flowing like poison, passed through his mind: Revenge... Morde... I will make you pay for what you did to Sun. With a power you've never faced before... And that will be your end, you bastard.
THE PASSAGE – THE MATHEMATICS OF SACRIFICE
Alfonso had long understood the gravity of the situation. Thousands of people were still stuck at the passage. "This can't go on," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I must do something urgently. But what?"
The lord of another city, Lion, approached him. His face was pale, but his voice was determined. "Alfonso! Listen to me. We must send a suicide squad to buy us time. They're coming on horses, running, crawling if they have to. If we don't do something now, they'll cut us down before even half of us pass. A thousand soldiers. A thousand lives, for the remaining tens of thousands."
Alfonso's heart ached. He looked into Lion's eyes. He saw the same pain, the same forced decision there. Yes. Sacrificing a small part for the good of the majority... That's how it had been done throughout history. His voice trembling, but clearly, he gave the order: "Commander Anna! Take a thousand volunteers and form a charge against the Ice Army. Buy us time. Immediately."
Anna was a young but experienced commander. She didn't say a word. She just bowed her head, turned, and raised her voice: "Those who dare death, follow me!" Instantly, not an army, but a storm gathered behind her. They mounted their horses and silently lined up for a final cavalry charge.
A VIEW FROM ABOVE
On a high ridge, King Task watched this scene, tilting his head. "Hey, what are they doing? This is pure madness."
Morde beside him chuckled softly. "Ah, my dear King, let me tell you what they're doing. They are sacrificing a small part for the good of the majority. The cruelest, most basic mathematics of the art of war. And often, it is the smartest thing to do. They are doing it." He shrugged. "Don't worry. A thousand against seventy thousand. They'll last a minute at most."
Task shook his head with a smile. "What they're doing is pure madness... but at the same time logical. Hey Morde, don't you want to have some fun, take matters into your own hands?"
Morde slowly turned his head to Task. The arrogance in his eyes was as sharp as ice. "Hey, King. Don't try to order me. Remember, I'm not your soldier. We are allies. And we are on the same level." Behind them, Flower gritted her teeth in anger, but Flem's hand immediately clamped onto her arm, stopping her.
Task raised his hand with an insincere smile. "You're right, Morde. My apologies. Whenever you wish, you join the battle."
Morde just murmured, "Good," turning his eyes back to the small, desperate charge below.
Below, the clash was terrible and swift. Anna's suicide squad crashed into the oncoming glacial wall like a wave. The clang of swords, screams, horse whinnies... And thirty-five seconds later, everything fell silent. The Ice Army continued its advance over the corpses without even slowing its step.
Alfonso's eyes welled up, but his voice thundered: "FASTER! MOVE!"
About seventy percent of the soldiers and people had passed. But for the remaining thirty percent, the situation was hopeless. The Ice Army was now almost at the walls.
THE FINAL DECISION AND THE ESCAPE
Alfonso looked at the remaining few thousand. Mostly civilians, a few wounded soldiers. The passage couldn't take any more. He took a deep breath and raised his voice for the last time. "EVERYONE, LISTEN TO ME!"
All eyes turned to him. "I'll be frank with you," he shouted, his voice both weary and steely hard. "Almost all the soldiers have passed. Now we, the ones left behind, are on our own. At most one or two thousand more can pass through this passage. No more." He paused, swallowed. "NOW... ARE YOU WITH ME TO FIGHT HERE, FOR OUR HOMELAND, FOR OUR HOMES?"
A moment of silence. Then, from those few thousand mouths, a single voice rose, tearing the sky: "WE AREEE, MY LORD!"
A bitter pride appeared on Alfonso's face. "THEN ATTACK!"
The remaining Nexans launched a final, desperate but proud charge with a mad war cry. Alfonso grabbed the nearest young messenger. "Look at me," he whispered urgently. "Go through the passage immediately. Go to the capital. Tell them no one else is coming. They must close the passage IMMEDIATELY. Understood? COME ON, QUICK!"
The young man nodded with tear-filled eyes, reluctantly but compelled, turned and plunged into the passage with the last runners. Alfonso watched his back, then gripped his sword tightly and began running with his remaining men towards the oncoming glacial tide.
THE CLOSING GATE
In Urug, Vlad was still at the head of the passage, watching the last arrivals. The last man tumbled out breathlessly, terror on his face, and fell at Vlad's feet. "My lord! A message from Lord Alfonso! No one else is coming! They attacked the Ice Army with the remaining thirty percent! He orders the passage to be closed immediately!"
Vlad's heart turned to stone in an instant. He shifted his eyes to King Swain on the balcony above. Swain, without hesitation, with a solemn and pained expression, gave a single, definitive nod of approval.
Vlad, without a grimace, gave the order: "Soldiers! Close the passage. No one else is coming from here."
Heavy mechanisms creaked, magical energy surged and then died. The passage closed, never to open again. At that moment, miles away, Alfonso and the last Nexans were being cut down by an overwhelming army in numbers and power. Alfonso knelt, a sword thrust into his stomach.
THE HARVEST OF SHADOWS
Just then, a voice thundered from above: "STOP!"
The Ice warrior about to kill Alfonso froze instantly. Everyone looked towards the source of the voice, at Morde. Morde was watching events with cold interest. He calmly raised his hand. Where Alfonso had fallen, his shadow stretched abnormally, writhed. The moment Morde clenched his fist, he melted like a cloud of black smoke into that shadow and solidified again beside Alfonso.
Morde approached the wounded lord with heavy steps. He bent down, whispering low, only for his ears: "Lift your head. Look upon the face of victory one last time."
Alfonso raised his head with difficulty under the weight of defeat and pain. His eyes were blurred.
Morde straightened, spreading his arms wide. He announced his voice to the entire battlefield: "EVERYONE, WATCH ME NOW!" Then, with a thunderous cry: "SHADOW HARVEST!"
From nothingness, from the ground, from the newly dead bodies, a dense, suffocating, light-absorbing darkness began to gush forth. Waves of black energy danced over the dead, enveloping and wrapping them. Everyone covered their faces or closed their eyes against this eerie sight. This dark dance lasted exactly ten seconds.
Then it suddenly ended.
Those who opened their eyes were stunned. The thirty percent of the dead Nexans... had stood up. But they were no longer themselves. Their bodies were composed of black, shapeless smoke, with only two blood-red points glowing where their eyes should be. In their hands were swords, axes, shields, also formed from shadow. Among them was the shadow of Lord Alfonso, still holding the wound in his stomach.
Morde spread his arms in victory. "BEHOLD!" he shouted. "MY INVINCIBLE ARMY!"
King Task, Flower, and Flem were speechless with astonishment. Flower stammered: "M-My King... what is this?"
Task, speechless for a moment, then slowly shook his head and murmured: "That... is true power." Then he gathered himself: "Advance! Target the capital!"
But the passage was closed. It couldn't carry the entire army. Task turned to Flower and Flem. "Open a portal for us to go there, to the front of the capital. Immediately."
Flower and Flem, setting aside their fatigue, combined their powers again. They raised their hands towards the sky, veins reappearing on their foreheads. There was a crack in the air, then the sky tore in two places. Opening this time were two massive, bright blue, electrically crackling portals, slowly widening and stabilizing.
BEFORE URUG – THE FINAL STOP
At the same millisecond, in front of Urug's walls, the sky tore in two places and the same blue, noisy portals appeared. Vlad, Po, Kai, Amper, Terex, and King Swain watched this threat from atop the walls. Below, the Nexan army was making its final preparations. Everyone was on alert.
And right at that moment, they began to rain down like a nightmare from the portals. First the Ice Kingdom's vanguard units, then the main army. And at the very front, with his black cloak fluttering in the wind, was Morde.
Seeing him, Vlad's entire body tensed. Anger and an equally cold focus glittered in his eyes. From his lips fell a whisper almost inaudible: "So you... are here? Then this account will be settled here."
Morde felt Vlad's gaze. He turned his head, looking at the blood mage on the distant walls. A dangerous curiosity and a mocking smile appeared on his face. He had found interesting prey.
Above, Kai was seeing Morde this close, this tangible, for the first time. That dark aura, that confident stance... Something familiar and chilling stirred inside him. It was as if a nightmare he had seen in his dreams had taken flesh and blood before his eyes. He was frozen.
"KAAAAIIII!" Swain's voice lashed his consciousness like a whip. "PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER RIGHT NOW, YOU DAMNED FOOL!"
Kai startled, shaking his head quickly. The astonishment in his eyes gave way to pure, intense determination. Without a word, he began descending the stairs towards the battlefield.
Captain Terex gave a broad hand signal to his crewmates beside him. "BROTHERS! FOR NEXAN! ATTAAAACK!"
"AYE AYE, CAPTAIN!" Sailor cries filled the air, and the Nexan defense line advanced towards the wave formed by the Ice Army. The first clash sounds, the clang of swords, the first death screams began to rise. The first blood fell on Urug's soil.
At that very moment, King Task, Flower, and Flem emerged from the blue portals. Behind them, the portal closed. Now the two massive armies faced each other with all their might on the plain before the capital walls.
And the first real battle began as a duel of mages.
BLOOD AND SHADOW
Vlad shot into the center of the field like a crimson lightning bolt. As he ran towards Morde, he was gathering a terrible power in the palms of both hands. "FOR SUN!" he roared and thrust his arms forward. From his palms, a human-sized, churning, living red blood sphere shot forth, gliding towards Morde.
Morde smiled slightly. "Slow," he whispered. Just as the blood sphere was about to hit him, his body suddenly dispersed into a cloud of black mist. The sphere passed through the mist and shattered a rock behind it. Morde reshaped himself a few meters away. He extended his hand, a black glimmer appeared in his palm and stretched, turning into a sword whose tip seemed like an endless darkness. "Black Cleaver."
He made a slight motion. From the sword, three crescent-shaped black energy blades flew out one after another, whistling through the air towards Vlad.
Vlad didn't panic. He planted his feet firmly on the ground. "Blood Wall," he murmured. Instantly, a semi-transparent red sphere surrounding him appeared. When the black crescents hit this sphere, they were absorbed with crackling sounds, their energy transferred to Vlad as red lightning flashing inside the sphere.
Morde's eyebrows rose slightly. I see, he thought to himself. It absorbs the energy of anything that hits the sphere and transfers it to him. Clever... This battle will be legendary.
He moved immediately. Surrounding his fists with black energy, he glided towards Vlad like a ghost and began coordinated, successive punch attacks. Vlad didn't step back either. He countered with his own fists covered in armor of blood-formed steel. With each collision, red and black sparks scattered, shaking the air around them. But Morde's moves were faster, stronger. Vlad was forced to retreat a little with each blow.
Finally, Morde gathered all his power. He pulled his right fist all the way back, the darkness concentrating on it seeming to scream. "BLACK FIST!"
Vlad instantly understood the deadly seriousness of this blow. This fist is no joke. I must parry it directly. He extended both hands forward, a bright red light appeared between his palms and quickly lengthened, transforming into a thick, two-handed blood sword. "Blood Sword!"
The two attacks met right in the center.
The explosion was deafening. A vortex composed of a mixture of dark and red energy expanded outward from their point and detonated. Nearby fighting soldiers were knocked to the ground by a shockwave, covering their faces to protect their eyes.
SECOND ACT
When the dust cloud cleared, both fighters were in their places, panting. A dark, viscous liquid, not blood, dripped from Morde's left arm. Part of Vlad's uniform was torn, but he didn't seem to have taken a serious wound.
Vlad made the first move this time. Behind him, ten long, blood spears appeared floating in the air. "Blood Spears."
The spears, from the moment they were launched, whistled towards Morde. Morde, shaking his wounded arm, gathered black energy again. "With these?" he grumbled and lunged forward, trying to deflect the incoming spears with the energy he formed like a rotating dark shield around him. Each spear caused small red energy explosions when it hit the darkness but was destroyed.
Just as Morde was about to deflect the last spear, Vlad's hand suddenly slid to the left.
That spear made a sharp turn in the air, slipping past Morde's defense and plunging with all its force into his left arm.
"AAARRRGHH! You damned bastard!" Morde recoiled in pain. He realized this was no ordinary spear. From where it had pierced, it was slowly draining his life energy, his power. Gritting his teeth, he pulled the spear out of his arm and threw it to the ground. When he looked at Vlad, he was surprised. There was no sign of fatigue on Vlad's face; not even sweat. There was only pure, focused anger.
I'll have to take this seriously, thought Morde, a small alarm ringing inside him for the first time. Otherwise, things could really go bad.
Sensing the change in Morde's attitude, Vlad immediately went on the defensive. "Blood Spiral." Around his waist, thin, razor-sharp blood strips began rotating at high speed, turning him into a deadly spiked ball.
Morde attacked nonetheless. Moving like a shadow, he tried to slip through the spiral, to reach Vlad. He deflected a few strips, but one grazed his right arm, another his left cheek. Leaving shallow but stinging cuts. He stepped back, out of range.
Vlad saw the opportunity. The thirst for revenge overwhelmed all his logic. He abandoned his defense and lunged directly at the retreating Morde.
At that very moment, a victorious smile appeared on Morde's lips. He secretly opened his palm towards the ground right behind Vlad. There, Vlad's own shadow began to swell abnormally, to bulge.
Vlad, just about to catch Morde, to bring him within range, Morde suddenly clenched his fist. "Black Shock."
This time it wasn't a punch. From the bulging shadow behind Vlad, an invisible but crushing psychic wave spread out and hit him. It caused no physical damage, but spread a coldness that shattered Vlad's mind, his soul. Memories—days laughing with Sun, promising each other the future— flooded his consciousness like a painful tide. His legs gave way, his eyes darkened. He collapsed to his knees.
Morde, as if victory was now guaranteed, formed the black sword in his hand again and began to run.
THE REALM OF BLOOD
Vlad raised his blurred eyes. There was not despair, but a final determination in his gaze. With the last air in his lungs, he shouted the name of his final spell: "DOMAIN ACTIVATE... REALM OF BLOOD!"
Before the echo of his voice faded, thick, pulsating red ropes burst from the ground. Within a tenth of a second, they formed a massive, dome-shaped area surrounding Vlad and Morde and sealed them above. All sounds of the battle outside instantly ceased.
Morde slowed his run, looking around. This was another realm. There was no sky. Everything was covered in a deep, living, undulating red. The air was filled with a heavy scent of iron and salt. The ground looked like a semi-transparent, deep red liquid.
"What the hell is this?" he grumbled, even the darkness he was accustomed to seemed pale against the intense redness here.
He tried to move, but couldn't. Suddenly, five thick blood ropes rose from the ground, gripping his wrists, waist, and ankles tightly. The ropes were of a deadly tightness, almost alive. He was completely immobilized.
Opposite him, Vlad slowly stood up. There was a pallor on his face from excessive power use, but his eyes still burned like fire. Behind him, this time five larger, sharper blood spears appeared, hanging in the air.
"From these," Vlad spoke, his voice echoing with a metallic ring in this red realm, "only those with a truly strong will can escape. Even if you are the strongest being in the universe... if your will is weak, these ropes will tear you apart, suck your soul dry."
He raised his hand, pointing to the first spear. "This is for Sun."
The spear shot forth with tremendous speed and plunged right into the center of Morde's chest.
"GYAAAHHH!" Morde's scream echoed in the dome. The pain wasn't just physical; it seemed to seep into his soul.
Vlad was surprised. "So you're not dead." He moved his hand. "Take the second one."
The second spear plunged into the lower part of Morde's abdomen. Morde let out a more muffled, deeper groan this time, but he was still standing.
"So you want the third," said Vlad, with increasing astonishment in his voice. "Take it then."
The third spear targeted the liver area and pierced it. Morde no longer had the strength to scream. He just made a hoarse sound, "Stop..." helplessly.
"You are strong," Vlad conceded, but his voice was still cold. "But it doesn't matter. In your current state, surviving a fourth arrow is impossible."
The fourth spear vibrated in the air and shot. The target was the heart.
At that moment, Morde lifted his head up. The red glow in his eyes flared like a volcanic eruption. From his mouth poured a maddened cry from the depths of his soul: "AILIAN! RISE!"
The red wall of the Blood Realm was instantly torn. The red-eyed shadow warrior, Ailian, slipped inside like a ghost. His movement was so fast he was seen only as a black line. His extendable sword swung with lightning speed and severed Vlad's blood ropes in a single stroke.
Morde collapsed to the ground as the ropes loosened. The fourth spear, instead of him, plunged into the void and exploded on the red ground.
Vlad was in shock. His spell was broken. The domain began to tremble, to disintegrate.
"Last one!" Vlad shouted, throwing the fifth and final spear at Ailian.
Ailian stood as if he hadn't moved at all, but his sword instantly extended to intercept the spear's path. The tip of the sword caught and wrapped around the spear's middle. The moment Ailian's hand clenched slightly, the blood spear turned to dust and dispersed.
Morde struggled to his feet. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out the blood spears pierced into his chest and abdomen one by one. With each one removed, dark liquid spurted, but his wounds slowly closed with a black smoke. The collapse of the Blood Realm had accelerated. The red dome was shattering.
Vlad had exhausted all his strength. He could barely stand now. The energy backlash from his broken spell had drained him completely.
Morde sent a silent command to Ailian. The shadow warrior instantly vanished and reappeared right behind Vlad, from within his own fading shadow. Morde, meanwhile, charged from the front, swinging his black sword.
Vlad had no strength left to turn, to defend. He closed his eyes. From the deepest corner of his mind, his brightest memory came to life: A sunny day, laughing with Sun, promising each other the future... I think I'm dying. That's why all my memories are passing before my eyes. But I have no regrets. I leave my friend's revenge... to Kai... to the others.
Ailian's flexible sword wrapped around Vlad's neck from behind and emerged from his chest. At the same time, Morde's black sword plunged into the exact center of his chest from the front.
The Blood Realm completely dissolved.
On the battlefield outside, everyone held their breath for a moment. In the middle stood a body, split in two, covered in blood. The Blood Mage Vlad had fulfilled his duty to his last breath but could not escape his fate. His corpse quietly collapsed to the ground amidst the battle.