Let Them Sing
EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
Level completed: 18%,
EXP required for next Level: 14,892
Shinsou spared a glance towards the demon Nosdyn, exhaling his frustration in a stream of desiccated breath. This beast had soaked up everything he had dished out so far, and that was more than most who had come into conflict with him had ever survived. He had even made bold claims of surviving the wrath of N'Jal.
Perhaps he was telling the truth, but if there was going to be a pissing contest...
"So you survived N'Jal, huh?" Shinsou smirked. "Well, that's impressive. But, I'll let you into a little secret. You may have surived N'Jal, but I obliterated Draconus. That's right. I tore that fat dragon limb from limb, and put him at the bottom of Scara Brae's seas. I did that five years ago. Compared to that, you and your boasts, and your ridiculous laughing, are nothing."
Now, this black-cloaked figure limped over grass and clay road towards him like a murderous stalker, his eyes sunken and haunted beneath that mask. The Telgradian wondered what persistent magic or curse had held his powerful attacks at bay. Anger rose from the depths of his stomach. Murderous impulses and unchecked emotion seized control. This person, this cretin who had hunted his apprentice and had so willingly sought him out to make suffer beneath the attentions of whatever dark forces Nosdyn served? He deserved nothing less than an overwhelming defeat here, and then a final death outside of the Citadel’s walls.
Clearing his mind of cobwebs, Shinsou began weaving white zephyrs into a swirling cocoon. Nosdyn was still approaching, slowly, his very continued existence threatening to ravage his sanity. Smouldering magic and electricity warred in the air as shadows shuddered beneath the flaring light. A maelstrom of thunderous cacophony resonated through his ears, and the Telgradian’s mind vibrated with the rage of an erupting volcano. Words of power slipped past his lips; an incantation of annihilation contained in a single breath.
“Shiroihitsugi.”
Four walls of light suddenly washed upwards around Nosdyn, carving through two houses on either side of the approaching demon. The light was dazzling and disorienting, but it settled slightly as it converged as one in an attempt to envelop Shinsou’s opponent fully in a pulsating orb of pure energy. The spell wrought havoc on everything nearby, casting a bright flash into the high trees and recessed parts of the village. Everything now blazed in molten pyres, alight with remnant white as a faint aroma akin to smouldering rubber persisted. Backdraft wafted through the limp strands of Shinsou’s hair as he clenched his palm into a fist.
At the touch of his words, the white sarcophagus woven about the engulfed Nosdyn would spawn giant, lance shaped appendages that protruded from its outer shell. Shinsou had used this spell once before, and he knew what horrors would come next. Each spear would suddenly plunge into the core of the tomb so deep and violently that it would send splintered shards of gravitational energy fizzing through the shadows. The force of the impact alone would rend Nosdyn from existence, and spit him back out into the Citadel proper.
The sphere of compressed white matter blossomed around Nosdyn, aiming to crush him through and through. Arius, Draconus and the worst monstrosities in the world had not killed the Telgradian, and this one would not, either.
