Lucy cried out in pain as her entire body engulfed in flame, something which even her form couldn’t resist. The flames were great and powerful as they spread across her skin like a sea of fire.

“Lucy!” Adam shouted, in utter shock that the fire suddenly swallowed her.

“Run!” Okvar shouted, leaping forward to meet the old man in combat, with Rasam charging forward, her shield clutched tightly in one hand. He, nor Rasam, had seen the old man cast his spell, meaning he was a being which possessed magics innate to his blood. The stranger wasn’t a Blood Mage, so that meant their foe was a greater being. However, he and Rasam were quite powerful, and would at least be able to hold him off until they could flee some ways away.

The old man sighed as the pair charged towards him, but he didn’t seem taken aback in the slightest. “I cannot allow a Demon to roam this land freely, not after what your kind did all those years ago.”

Lucy had just managed to beat away the fire, her skin lightened by the flames. Vonda stared at Lucy in shock, frozen from the flames suddenly appearing, she felt a hand at her side, as Jonn managed to snap her out of her fear, before he stood behind Lucy. Since the old man was targeting her, he would stay near her so she basked in his aura, giving her a greater strength to fend off whatever the old man was doing to her.

‘There’s no way that’s the end of that,’ Adam thought, noting how the old man was still pointing at Lucy, and so he willed his Omen.

Omen: 8, 20 -> 8

Adam plucked a Thread of Fate, causing the old man to raise his brows in momentary surprise, though the flames still managed to swallow Lucy whole again, though this time she had managed to brace herself.

The momentary shock had allowed both Okvar and Rasam to strike the old man, though their blades bounced against his skin, not even drawing blood. The pair were also surprised, but it lasted only an instant, as Okvar and Rasam spun their weapons and struck forward once more, this time catching the old man’s attention, causing him to use his fists and palms to gracefully guide their blades away from striking him.

‘He can bend Fate?’ the old man thought, feeling how Adam had managed to allow Lucy to resist his magics, which would have made the Demon Lord dust if he had managed to kill her with the flames.

“Young man, just what are you?” the old man asked, all the while he was struck by Okvar’s spear, and Rasam’s morning star, which flashed white with the divine magics to strike him more harshly. Yet, even with the Iyrmen’s blows, his focus was still on the group ahead of him, who were currently swarming around the Demon Lord to assist her.

“Who gave you permission to leave?” called the old man, his voice pressing down upon the entire group.

Wisdom Save

D20 + 4 = 5 (1)

Adam froze as he stared at the old man, and suddenly he found himself in darkness, and he was only able to see the old man, whose eyes were fixed on him. Those eyes were staring at him as though he were an ant, one which had sparked curiosity from something much greater.

Dunes found it hard to breathe as the pressure overwhelmed him, and Vonda could see the flames around her, causing her stomach to churn. Jaygak clenched her fists tight, trying to fight off the fear, shutting her eyes tight. Even Kitool could feel it grip her, planting her Seekerstaff into the ground so she would not fall.

The other Iyrmen teens were also gripped with fear, unable to resist against the great powers of this stranger. It hadn’t been ten days since they had left the Iyr to train with Adam to become Experts, and yet they had already come up against an insurmountable foe.

Nobby swallowed, unable to reach for his axe or his shield, and Brittany could feel her vision darken as her entire body dripped with sweat.

‘We’re going to die,’ Fred thought, his hand on the hilt of his sword, though he had no strength to draw it. ‘We’re all going to die.’

Jonn and Lucy had managed to fend off the fear, with his aura managing to calm their hearts, and they could understand clearly that this was a terrible situation for them all.

“We must go!” Jurot shouted, managing to fight off the darkness which had encroached within his heart. His words had managed to bring them out of their despair, and with that, the group quickly began to retreat. Some of them could still feel as though they were trapped at the bottom of a lake, but the fear only spurred their steps forward.

The old man’s attention turned back to Okvar and Rasam, who had struck him once more. Okvar tried to seize the man’s muscles, but he could not manage to overwhelm his foe.

The trio fought, with the old man managing to catch Rasam’s forearm as she tried to strike him, and though she was perhaps one of the strongest Iyrmen physically, the old man held her arm as though he was stopping a child. Rasam had never met anyone who was able to overpower her so easily, but she continued to try and slam her morning star against his side. The old man held her there.

Okvar’s spear managed to strike the man’s forearm, and though he had marked the man’s skin, he hadn’t drawn blood. The spear, which should have skewered any mortal, had been stopped by mere skin. Not even a raging Iyrman could stop such a blow, and yet the old man had stopped it without even trying.

“I do not understand why you must defend the Demon Lord, but since you will not allow me to complete my task peacefully, I am now forced to strike you,” the old man said, before an explosion of fire blasted Rasam back, causing her to drop to a knee, while Okvar managed to cut through the explosion and leap back just in time.

“What was that?” Brittany cried.

“Don’t worry about it!” Adam shouted. “Just run, damn it!” ‘Seriously! Why did we come across such a damn monster right now?’

Okvar had seen it. The man’s tattoo glowed for just a moment, before a ray of light shot out and exploded mid air to engulf the trio. However, the old man seemed wholly unphased by the attack. ‘He is not harmed by his own flames,’ Okvar thought, though it was an entirely useless thought since Okvar did not use fire.

Rasam’s eyes were wide. She was on a knee after only a single blast of flames. Whatever it was, it was greater than a Fireball, and it was something which even her great strength couldn’t resist. She inhaled deeply as the fire around them faded, and she stood, morning star in hand. The Iyrman called forth her magic, and her morning star hummed and shook with thunderous force.

“You will not allow me to complete my task?” the old man asked to confirm. He should at least offer them the chance to step aside, though he knew the answer.

“We cannot allow you to kill her,” Okvar said, clutching his spear tight in hand, ready to attack once more.

“You would defend the Demon Lord?” The old man wasn’t sure why they were going to so far to help the Demon Lord, who should have died the moment the Iyr had known of her existence. She had definitely stayed in the Iyr for some time.

“We Iyrmen always stick to our word,” Rasam said. “She, too, must arrive at the forest.”

“Then so be it,” the old man said, holding out his hand, before a blade appeared within it. It was a long blade, the handle made of gold and ruby which intertwined together, the blade of which was long, slightly thinner than one may have expected, though not quite a rapier, silver, though when it caught the sun, it was almost the colour of a raging fire. He placed his free arm behind his back.

Steel sang against steel as the trio met in combat. The old man, danced with the pair, allowing them to set the pace as his blade flowed through the air, causing sparks to fly as he easily deflected the morning star and spear as they tried to strike him.

Thunder rumbled as Rasam tried to strike him, and though she wanted to forgo using her shield, she understood it would have been a great folly for her to allow him any chance to strike her down. She was already struggling against his mighty strength, as though his blade seemed graceful, almost floating like a firefly, he managed to force her morning star away through sheer strength.

The old man finally brought his second hand out to stop her morning star, allowing Okvar a chance to strike through his side. Though the spear struck true, it was still unable to pierce through his flesh.

“Thank you,” the old man said, though he didn’t make it obvious what he thanked her for. He struck her magical plate mail, denting it with his sword, tearing through it at the shoulder, before the Iyrman finally fell.

He spun to catch Okvar’s spear. “You should tend to her wounds.” He had dealt with Rasam first since she was definitely the greatest threat to him in terms of her strength.

Okvar’s brow was full of sweat, having not fought someone so powerful in some time. He knew Rasam’s strength, which was the absolute peak of what one could achieve as a Guardian, and though there may have been some Rage Dancers within the Iyr who could surpass those limits, even they did not scoff at Rasam’s might.

Okvar remained silent, his weapon pinned by the mysterious stranger who had managed to fight two Mithril Rank Iyrmen without breaking a sweat. He could feel it from here, the great magic which emanated from the sword. It was one of the greatest swords he had ever come across. A thought almost crossed his mind, but he pushed it aside. He almost thought about who the stranger was, but that was irrelevant.

“We are Iyrmen,” Okvar said, leaping away from the stranger, before clutching his spear tightly once more. He had been told by the Iyr not to die a good death, but there was something else he had to take into consideration. “We Iyrmen always stick to our word,” Okvar said. “She, too, must arrive at the forest. Alive.”

“So be it,” the old man said, stepping forward. “You will have to blame Fate for being unable to complete your task.”