Chapitre 26: The Battles Begin
As the knights guarded the entrances to the market, they had no inkling of the horror that was about to unfold.
The first to fall was a burly man with a heart of gold and a fearsome reputation. He had positioned himself at the market's main entrance, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of trouble. It came in the form of a simple wooden chair, which Enigma conjured from the very stones beneath his feet. It hurtled through the air with the speed of an arrow, striking him square in the chest. The impact was enough to shatter his armor and send him sprawling backward, the chair dissolving into splinters upon impact.
With an unbelievable speed, Enigma rushes to him and sticks his blade into his heart before he can make a sound.
Next was a knight with a sharp wit and a sharper blade. A sudden burst of energy manifested in the form of a vine that wrapped around her sword arm, wooden thorns digging into her flesh. Before she could react, the vine yanked her into an alley, where Enigma waited with a sadistic smile. A swift strike from his blade sent her to the ground, her armor no match for his cunning.
The third knight had the misfortune of encountering Enigma in a deserted square. The cobblestones beneath his feet shifted and grew, forming a spike that shot upwards, impaling him through the chest. His cry of surprise and pain was cut short as the stone retreated, leaving him a lifeless statue on a pedestal of his own blood.
"If I have the chance to step into action, I want to do it with a certain elegance." Enigma wasted no time and hurried to the next knight.
The fourth and fifth knights were taken by surprise in a dark alley, where the shadows grew thick and tangible. Enigma wove them into a noose, which tightened around their necks with the finality of a hangman's knot, silencing their calls for help. Their lifeless bodies dangled from the alley's entrance, a grim warning to any who might follow.
The sixth knight, a young and overconfident squire, encountered Enigma in a square lined with shops and stalls that had closed for the night. With a wave of his hand, Enigma conjured a flock of ravens from the shadows, their beaks and claws sharp as razors. The birds descended upon the squire, tearing through his armor and flesh, leaving him a bloody mess on the cobblestone ground.
The seventh knight caught the faint sound of the Enigma's footsteps echoing through the emptiness of the market's central aisle. Turning sharply, he raised his sword to defend himself, but Enigma was already there, a wall of flaming thorns materializing from the air. The knight's screams mingled with the crackling of the fire as he was consumed by the inferno, his armor melting away like wax.
The eighth and ninth knights patrolled the perimeter together. Enigma's laugh echoed through the night, a chilling sound that made the hair on their necks stand on end. A sudden tremor shook the ground, sending a spray of cobblestones into the air. The knights looked up to see a giant wooden construct, a twisted mockery of a tree, with limbs that reached out to ensnare them. They were crushed beneath the weight of its mighty trunk before they could even draw their weapons.
The tenth and final knight guarding the entrance was the most vigilant. Years of experience had taught him to trust his instincts, and something about the stillness of the night made his skin crawl. As he turned a corner, a wall of stone erupted from the ground, blocking his escape.
Trapped, he faced Enigma, who had materialized from the shadows like a ghost. "You're the last," Enigma murmured, his voice a symphony of malice.
The knight's eyes narrowed, his hand tightening around the grip of his sword. "I won't go down without a fight," he growled.
Enigma tilted his head to the side, the mask's smile never faltering. "Ah, the spirit of the righteous," he said with a mocking tone. "It's almost charming, if not entirely predictable."
Without hesitation, he turned his mask into mist, which peeled off his face, only to turn it into four blades that all hit the knight.
One blade hit his heart, one his head, one his liver and one his testicles. This blade was probably just for amusement.
The knight's lifeless body hit the floor with a dull thud.
The Enigma stood there, basking in the victory, his skin was pale, almost translucent. His hair was a wild tangle of black locks that framed a face that was both hauntingly beautiful and terrifyingly cruel. His eyes, once obscured by the mask, were now revealed to be pools of pure malice. They gleamed with a dark intelligence that seemed to pierce the very soul of any who dared to gaze into them.
"You fight for a lost cause," he said to the lifeless knight, his voice a chilling whisper that seemed to echo through the deserted market. "Your gods are dead, and your Rulers is a puppet. Helgarde belongs to the strong, the cunning, and the fearless. Soon, the city will know the true meaning of power, and the weak shall tremble before us."
....
The Crimson Merchant felt the adrenaline surging through his veins as he faced the line of knights, Captain Lanos at their helm. Their armor gleamed in the flickering torchlight, but it was their determination that truly shone.
The Merchant called upon the power of the flame. A wall of fire erupted from the ground between them, a fiery barricade that grew and stretched, blocking their path. The knights charged, their swords raised in a unified battle cry.
With a flick of his wrist, the Crimson Merchant sent a bolt of lightning crashing through the air, splitting the fiery barricade and sending two knights reeling backward, their armor smoking. The flaming wall collapsed, and the Merchant stepped forward, his cloak fluttering like a phoenix's wings in the intense heat.
Captain Lanos bellowed a war cry, charging at the Merchant with a sword that shimmered with holy energy. The Merchant met his charge with a twirl of his own blade, a fiery arc slicing through the air. The clang of steel on steel reverberated through the market as they locked blades, sparks flying like stars in the night sky.
The knights around them advanced, their eyes filled with righteous anger. The Merchant grinned, his teeth gleaming in the firelight. With a roar, he called upon the power of the flame, enveloping himself in a cloak of fire. The heat was so intense it made the knights stumble back, their armor glowing an angry red.
Lanos raised his sword, and a light barrier formed around him, the holy energy pulsing like a beacon in the dark night. He stepped forward, and the knights followed, their blades reflecting the flickering light. The Merchant waited, his eyes locked with the captain's, both knowing the dance of death was about to begin.
The first knight to breach the Merchant's fiery embrace was met with a swift kick that sent him hurtling into the air. As the knight descended, the Merchant sent a bolt of lightning arcing through the sky, striking him mid-flight and reducing him to ash before he hit the ground. The others approached more cautiously, their eyes darting around the market, searching for a way to flank their adversary.
Lanos took this moment to charge, his sword glowing brighter with each step. The Merchant met him with a fiery blade of his own, their weapons clashing with a thunderous boom. The impact sent shockwaves through the cobblestone, cracking the stones beneath their feet.
The remaining knights took a cautious step back, eyes wide with fear and awe. The Crimson Merchant approached Captain Lanos, who had regained his footing and now stood firmly, his sword a bastion of light in the swirling maelstrom of fire. He chanted an ancient incantation, and a dome of pure light sprang up around him, pushing the flames back.
Within the sanctity of his barrier, Lanos's blade grew brighter, the holy symbol on its pommel pulsing with power. He stepped out of the dome, his sword slashing through the air in a complex pattern that left a trail of light. The Merchant watched with a sneer, his fiery blade poised to strike.
Their clash was explosive. The ground trembled as their weapons met, the light and the flame intertwining in a dance of destruction. The market around them became a battleground of shadows and light, the very air crackling with energy.
The Merchant twirled and danced, his blade a crimson blur as he weaved in and out of the knights' attacks. Each time he struck, a burst of flame accompanied his blade, leaving trails of fire in his wake. Captain Lanos, unfazed, moved with the precision of a knight templar, his holy blade a bastion of light that cleaved through the dark.
The market stalls around them were now ablaze, their wooden frames crackling and popping as the flames grew higher. The Crimson Merchant used the chaos to his advantage, leaping and flipping through the air, leaving trails of fire behind him that ignited the knights' armor. They stumbled and fell, their cries of agony piercing the night air.
Captain Lanos and the Crimson Merchant were the last to stand facing each other. Their surroundings were completely chaotic.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone