Daemon King - The Daemon King   If he hadn’t fought the kilrog only minutes ago, Snicker would not have know what to call this creature that stood before him. It looked exactly the same as the kilrog, except that it was huge. It towered above him, its humanoid face twisted and misshapen, and full of malice and evil. If the daemons that inhabited this cursed land had a king, then this was it, Snicker thought to himself. It was a king kilrog.   Once more Snicker unsheathed his multi-blade and held it before him. He stared into the creature’s eyes as it advanced towards him, and saw only death. He didn’t run though. The boy was here, and still alive. He would fight, even though he knew he would probably not survive. He felt almost fatalistic as he lashed out at it with his blade. Twice the blade struck the creature, but Snicker felt what little hope he had remaining disappear, as it did little more than scratch it. The creature did not even flinch, but raised its right arm and sent a star shaped blade of pure energy straight at him. Dodging was futile. It was too quick, and he felt himself almost lifted off the ground as it struck him, knocking him against the rock once more. Before he could even decide whether to attack or retreat, the creature struck again, with another killstar, causing excruciating pain, that almost made Snicker bite his tongue.   Before it could cast the final spell that would finish him, Snicker scrambled around the edge of the boulder, just as a third killstar slammed into the rock, right where he was standing only moments before. He fumbled with the drawstrings of his pouch, while moving around the boulder, praying that the creature didn’t double back the other way. He was almost crying with frustration when his hands closed around the healing elixir he sought. Much to his relief the stopper came off easily, just as the shadow of the creature crept perilously close to where he lay. He drank it down in one gulp and continued to back away around the edge of the rock. He cried out when he stumbled over something on the ground behind him, and watched in horror as his sword went flying out of his grasp. He hit the ground with a thump, and examined the cause of his fall. It was a skeleton. And as luck would have it, a long sword lay on the ground near its bony, outstretched hand.   Snicker didn’t have time to notice the unusual reddish metal the blade was crafted from, or the runes etched into it. Another time he might have wondered at the faint glow that emanated from it, and marvelled at the perfect balance the blade possessed. But the creature had closed in on him once more and its expression was almost gleeful as it raised its arm to unleash its powerful magic at him. What Snicker DID notice was the tingle of magical energy that travelled up his arm when he picked up the sword, almost causing him to drop it. But he didn’t drop it. Instead he brought it around in as wide an arc as he could manage while on the ground. His swing lacked any real power, yet it didn’t seem to matter. It struck the creature in the side. And hurt it. Badly. For the first time the king kilrog made a sound. It was a howl of pain that chilled Snicker’s blood. Its spell, which required concentration, was disrupted, and all that emerged from the outstretched hand was a small puff of harmless smoke.   Snicker wasn’t idle after he had landed the blow. Using the sword and the rock for balance, he dragged himself to his feet and closed in on the creature. Gone was the creature’s gleeful expression. It was replaced by rage. But also, just a hint of doubt. They stood facing each other for a few moments, neither of them moving. Then in the space of a heartbeat, the real battle had begun.   How long they fought, Snicker was never really certain. The sword he wielded was a powerful weapon, imbued with magic he had never seen before. But the creature was strong, and its endurance was enormous. Snicker landed blow after blow, wounding it deeply with each hit. Yet still it lived. Snicker did not go unscathed however. The creature continued to send vaporous clouds of magical poison and deadly killstars at him. He lost count of the times he had to avoid the creature long enough to drink a healing elixir. As the battle raged on, the pouch at his side grew lighter. When it was empty, he knew he would have to flee, or die where he stood.   Gradually, as they exchanged blows, both combatants began to feel the consequences of such a long and ferocious battle. Snicker was weaker, and would have collapsed of exhaustion long ago, if not for the rejuvenating properties of the greater healing elixirs. He was too hurt, too battered and bruised to be completely refreshed each time, but he was at least able to remain standing, and swinging. Despite its incredible stamina and ability to endure pain, the creature was showing signs of weariness. It was barely noticeable at first. But before long Snicker could see it taking just a little bit longer each time to cast a spell. Its wounds were numerous, and Snicker was doing all he could to add to them. And after what seemed an eternity, they were taking their toll.   After what may have been hours or only just minutes, Snicker gulped down the last of his elixirs. And then he took a chance. Ignoring defence completely, he launched a final, furious attack at the creature. And he almost killed it. Initially it was too stunned by the ferocity of the attack to protect itself in any way, or launch an attack of its own. Blow after blow landed, bringing it within inches of death, before Snicker’s flagging energy seemed to disappear completely. For a single bizarre moment, where time seemed frozen, they stood facing one another. Both of them swaying, eyes locked together, knowing that the next blow would end this battle.   Gathering every ounce of energy he had left, Snicker raised the sword above his head, preparing himself for one last attack. He shifted his grip around, holding it with two hands now, the blade pointing downwards. And then he lunged forward. Even as he did so, he realised that he would be too late. The creature had stepped back, gaining the precious seconds it needed to cast one more spell. Snicker didn’t hesitate though. It was too late for that. His eyes closed in anticipation at the moment the spell should have struck his wounded body, ending his life, even as he brought the sword down, stabbing it like a dagger at the creature’s chest. But the spell was never completed. Had he kept his eyes open, he would have seen the tired arm of the creature fall limply at its side, the effort needed for one more spell, seemingly beyond it after the battering it had taken. The sword bit deep, impaling the creature through the chest and beyond, until the hilt rested against it.   Snicker didn’t have time to be amazed at the fact that half of the blade was buried in the rock itself. Instead, he couldn’t take his eyes off the creature before him. It remained held in place, but began to glow with an eerie light. Where the blade had entered the rock, four cracks had appeared, forming a cross shape, and were growing larger. The light spread from the creature, and filled the cracks, until the immediate area was lit up by its unnatural glow. Snicker found himself backing away. Before he had taken two steps, the creature exploded. And so did the rock. The force of the explosion lifted Snicker into the air, and threw him backwards. He landed heavily a few feet away, and was unconscious before he hit the ground.   When they found him a few minutes later, they could not rouse him. Roger himself cradled the stricken warrior in his arms, and carried him back to Kurz, while someone else did the same for the boy. The others however, stood around staring in amazement at the scene of the battle. All except Rusty, one of the many blacksmiths of Kurz, who had picked up the shattered remains of the sword. He had recognised it immediately for what it was...a Sword of Power. The secret of its making had been lost long ago, but already there was excitement in his eyes, as he considered the possibilities of creating more, after studying the blade. The others did not share his excitement. Instead they focused on the spot where the giant boulder used to sit. Now there was nothing more than scorched earth. It was doubtful whether any grass would ever grow there again. This was not the only thing different however. Now, where there had been nothing but grass, sat four small boulders. They formed a perfect square around the scene of what was obviously a mighty battle.   Page 3 of 3   Thank you for reading Daemon King. If you enjoyed this story, or even if you didn't, please feel free to send me your comments.   Previous Page Return to Index     This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page