Deacon dusted off his pants and took a long look at his opponent. The tower shield on his left arm seemed to be what he lead each engagement with. He only swung at an opponent with the battle axe if he was sure they wouldn’t dodge. This seemed like a strange fighting technique but the glowing energy radiating off the shield told Deacon that his focus should be there and not the battle axe.

Ferick stepped closer to Deacon preparing another charge but stopped in his tracks. This one looked very different from the other combatants. He wasn’t at all bruised or bleeding from all the fighting this morning. On top of that he didn’t look the least bit tired. Ferick began to circle this strange new combatant.

“You intend to fight me alone, human?” Ferick asked with a sneer on my lips.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. Everyone else take a break,” said Deacon surprised he could understand the Orc’s language. He was sure he’d lost the ability to speak Old Goblin while he was in the Wode.

“You speak the old tongue!? Who taught you?” asked Ferick as he stopped moving out of shock.

“Oh I killed one of your sneaky Goblins the other day. The details aren’t important. What’s with the fancy shield?” Deacon asked back.

“Black Guard warriors that achieve enough victories in battle are offered a gift from the great Hipag. I’ll be using this to crush your bones,” answered Ferick as he began to close the distance.

Deacon began chuckling that then turned into a deep belly laugh. He held his hands out in front of him gesturing for Ferick to give him time to recover. That’s when Ferick attempted to punch his shield forward attempting to drive Deacon to the ground with one hit. He hoped to follow up with the axe and end the fight. Ferick was surprised to not feel any impact on the shield. The distance between them wasn’t enough for the little man to have dodged. He then noticed some movement out of the corner of his left eye. His opponent spoke to him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t say fe-fi-fo-fum. Ha! Okay, I’m ready let’s begin,” Deacon said standing on Ferick’s left side.

“How did you—” Ferick began to ask as Deacon shot a quick right jab into his rib cage.

Ferick’s ribs crunched under the power of Deacon’s strike. So much so it forced him back several paces to the right. Being a seasoned veteran, Ferick got his shield up in front of him as Deacon soared high above his head and landed behind him. As Deacon prepared to attack Ferick’s left shoulder, hoping to get him to drop the shield, Ferick spun with surprising speed slamming the shield into Deacon’s outstretched arm.

The energy around the shield ran rampant in Deacon’s body dropping his health down one hundred and twenty percent. As he staggered back the battle axe was swinging toward Deacon’s left side. He had this scouted from before. The axe was large but other than that it was a mundane weapon. Deacon went intangible and let Ferick overextend into the swing. Once the axe was completely through his body, Deacon drove his left elbow down hard on the Orc’s right arm. There was the telltale crunch of bone before the axe clattered to the ground. Ferick began to howl in pain but drew his mangled arm back positioning the tower shield between Deacon and himself. Deacon planted his right foot on the shaft of the axe and kicked it behind him.

“The darkness grows,” was the command phrase Deacon used to summon the power of The Black. The sclera in his eyes bled in darkness so much that his vibrant green pupils looked to be floating in nothing.

“You’re him, the soul eater, aren’t you?” hissed Ferick from gritted teeth.

“The one and only, baby. You looked to have a particularly tasty soul,” taunted Deacon as he pointed one finger at Ferick before firing a bar of black void at the shield.

The shield shook from the impact. Deacon’s Nether Beam powered by The Black erased anything in a straight line from existence. This time it left a dime sized mark on the shield and the energy flowing around the shield became more dense. This was a complete surprise to Deacon who didn’t do a good enough job of hiding it on his face.

“Was that your trump card? Did you think your pathetic abilities could best a relic blessed by Hipag!” said Ferick, regaining some of his confidence.

This needed to end, if Deacon couldn’t break the shield, he would have to force him to drop it. He knew the Orc’s right arm was useless right now giving him an opening on his right side. He’d need to goad him into attacking again but this opponent was careful and seasoned. The Orc wouldn’t attempt to hit him with the shield unless he was certain of a hit.

“You know, all your Goblin troops are dead. You are the last attacker and only the north end of this town has sustained any real damage. You can’t even move your right arm. Why don’t you just run home to Hipag with your tail between your legs? Give him back the shield, tell him you’re worthless, and retire,” taunted Deacon getting the result he both did and didn’t want.

Ferick’s eyes flashed red and all the energy surrounding the shield soaked into his body. He grew a foot and half taller as well as wider. The bones in his right arm shifted back into place, making chunky meaty sounds as the tissue writhed around the repairing bones. He then grabbed both sides of the shield lifting it over his head in one swift motion to bring the rounded edge of the bottom down on Deacon’s head. Ferick stopped mid motion as Deacon appeared at his feet, right palm pressed against Ferick’s own stomach. There was a roiling mass of dark energy emanating from the open palm that flashed out coating Ferick’s whole body.

Deacon executed the Palm of Damnation the instant the shield began to move. His timing was perfect. Sliding forward through the dirt and dust on the souls of his feet, the ability launched him towards his target. Deacon had positioned himself so Ferick would have full confidence in hitting him. It was just a bonus that he decided to lift the shield instead of bash forward, which was what Deacon expected. Instead of using another Spectral Dodge then initiating Palm of Damnation, he could just use the palm attack instead.

As the energy enveloped Ferick, his skin began to itch. It then began flaking off of him. Suddenly all his musculature was exposed as he raised his head in soundless scream to the heavens. His tower shield dropped to the ground as his muscles began to disintegrate exposing his skeleton and organs. The organs were next as his eyes were eaten away followed by lungs, stomach, and intestines. Shortly thereafter his bones began to crack and darken. Finally his soul hovered over the dusty remains of what was once Ferick of the Black Guard before it was sucked through the mortal plane into a jagged wound in reality. The Black had begun to take him as a tug from the shield allowed to hover in place momentarily. Then the wound in the world closed and the shield clattered to the ground.

“Fuck me, that was intense!” Deacon yelled. His soul energy was down to one hundred and change and steadily growing. Apparently, a battlefield had a lot of soul energy.

“That was horrible. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” said Hani limping up to Deacon’s position.

“Holy Shit! I keep forgetting you’re here. Where is everyone else?” Deacon asked, trying to banish the horror of what he just saw from his mind.

“Most are holed up in the tavern. I saw some of your party members a few streets back. They looked like they were in trouble. On a side note, can you add me to your active party? I’m pretty dinged up from that guy,” asked Hani.

“Yea gimme a second. There, that should do it.” Deacon said.

Deacon and a now slowly healing Hani started looking for survivors and the rest of the Regulators. Once the most injured were gathered up in one place, Tantus began casting healing spells on the unconscious people that couldn’t accept Deacon’s party invitations. Those who were in good condition since Deacon’s arrival went out to help put out fires. Tantus needed to take short breaks to regenerate his mana through meditation. Deacon had never seen him do this before and was fascinated. Before being scolded that it was difficult to meditate while someone was staring.

Amanda didn’t leave Ralph’s side as Tantus’s spell healed his body, but he still didn’t wake up. Tantus believes he may need more time to rest, and she shouldn’t worry. Deacon helped to move Ralph back down into the bunker to get him away from all the hustle and bustle.

The sun in the sky was reaching early afternoon when Typhus cornered Deacon on his way into the tavern.

“Where were you? This Deactastrophe is hard to pin on you if you’re not even here,” Typhus said with only a little mirth in his voice.

“Come inside, this will be easier to explain with Alfred’s help,” answered Deacon shuttling Typhus toward the stairs down to the basement.