David Dalglish - Blood Of Gods

Velixar laughed as he reached back inside, tapping into Karak’s might. His power doubled, further pushing against the boundary of his physical form. Ashhur thought him unarmed; the deity didn’t realize that to Velixar, every corpse, every puddle of blood, every bit of bone, was a weapon.

The pools of crimson lining the open space shimmered. Dark, oily vines shot out of them, wrapping around Ashhur’s legs, his waist, his arms, his head. The god was a mere twenty feet away when his momentum stopped, the bloodvines growing more elastic and potent with each word Velixar spat from his mouth. Ashhur grunted, trying to snap the tendrils, but every broken one was replaced by another, and then another, until practically the whole of the deity’s form was wrapped in their pulsating, meaty limbs. Ashhur dropped to his knees. Soldiers skirmishing close by, sensing an opportunity, rushed the struggling god, stabbing at him with swords not strong enough to even scratch Ashhur’s armor. Some jumped on his back, trying to gouge the deity’s neck, but their blades scraped off his shimmering flesh.

Velixar’s fingers worked quickly, twisting into rune after rune. The soldiers attacking Ashhur, all twenty of them, screamed at once, their bodies bulging within their armor as they were lifted into the air. The High Prophet of Karak then flipped his hand over, and the men’s insides came pouring out their mouths. Their bones crunched and pulverized, creating tiny shards that ejected along with the spray of blood and minced organs. When it was done, their armor clanked down to the cobbles, filled with empty husks of flesh. The mess of blood, viscera, and bone began to swirl around the fraught deity, growing faster with each passing second. Velixar laughed and laughed, shoving as much power as he could into the smallest fragments of matter. The rotating cone closed around Ashhur, squeezing him. Smoke rose from the top of the funnel as charged blood particles singed his godly flesh; the hardened bits of bone pricked him like a million tiny needles. Velixar brought his hands together slowly, attempting to crush the deity, but the resistance was great. Ashhur bellowed, his sword slicing upward through the wall of blood and bone that crushed in on him. The spell broke. Once more the power snapped back into Velixar, knocking him back a step.

Ashhur tore the remaining bloodvines off him, scowling as he slowly rose to his feet. Velixar gritted his teeth and cursed, eyes flitting across the arena of war until he caught sight of what he was looking for: a pair of giant bodies covered with bloodstained fur, struggling to stand amid the chaos after being walloped by a god.

“Kayne, Lilah, to me!” Velixar shouted, just as Ashhur let out a cry and brought his sword down with all his might. Velixar raised a globe of shadow and purple fire around himself. When Ashhur’s sword struck the outer edge of the sphere, the blade dug in, sending out geysers of flame that singed the god’s armor. Yet still Ashhur pressed against the sphere, buckling it, cracking it.

Velixar battled against the force of the deity as best he could, driven to his knees beneath that brutal strength. He then saw the two Judges limp out of the mayhem. Velixar squeezed his eyes shut, confident that his shield would hold for a time, and transferred energy from himself to the lions. They shuddered, dropped to their bellies, and then stood up once more. When they took their next steps, neither was limping. Kayne roared and Lilah followed suit.

Ashhur glanced behind him, then back at Velixar, his face a mask of rage that appeared and disappeared between wisps of shadow and jets of flame.

“They aren’t enough,” the god said, his words grinding into Velixar’s skull.

“I know,” Velixar retorted through clenched teeth.

The strength he held, while great, was inadequate. He had to dive deeper into the well, find a new source of power. Placing one hand on the ground, he closed his eyes and concentrated, felt the burning heart of Dezrel buried deep beneath the soil, the fragment of Celestia herself. Who needs the Black Spire when you have the power of a god? A cackle escaped his lips as he focused on that energy, on that massive blazing mass, drawing its power up through the bedrock and into him. His eyes bulged from his head, and his skin felt on fire, so quickly did the transfer come. Outstretching both arms toward the approaching lions, he poured it into them.

The lions fell back on their haunches, bellowing. Warriors from both sides scurried away from their writhing forms. Ashhur ceased attempting to break through the shield and spun around.

Velixar looked on in wonder, feeling the inferno of Dezrel’s everlasting heart as he consumed it. That same inferno now raged in the Judges, burning them, altering them, improving them. The lions’ fur began to smoke, smoldering away in a flash of white light. The seams in their flesh split, leaking magma that melted the cobbles beneath them. The flesh itself became like stone, black and scorched like the onyx statues guarding the portcullis behind him. Men screamed. The lions’ teeth and claws became like black diamonds as they writhed.

When it was over, the smoking forms of the Judges rolled over and stood, shaking their heads like dogs shedding water. Kayne took a thunderous step forward, the blood on the cobbles boiling where his paw landed. His mane was a ring of fire. Lilah opened her maw and roared. Both lions then swiveled their heads toward Ashhur, flames raging in their eyes, their nostrils, their mouths.

“The impure god,” Kayne said, his voice like a boulder tumbling down a mountainside.

“The bringer of chaos,” added Lilah.

The fiery Judges leapt at Ashhur. The god slashed with his sword, batting the male aside, sending chunks of volcanic rock from the lion’s body where his blade struck. Lilah bounded at the deity from the other side, her jaws closing around Ashhur’s forearm. The lioness’s teeth pierced the god’s vambrace, cracking the unearthly metal. Ashhur screamed and battered the lioness with his opposite fist, sending more chunks of blackened rock flying but doing little damage to her.

Kayne pounced as Ashhur tried to free himself. The lion’s flaming maw wrapped around the god’s neck, its teeth digging in deeply. Ashhur threw his head back and screamed. Magma poured from the god’s wounds, further stoking the Judges’ fire. The deity’s glowing eyes dimmed ever so slightly. The blazing female jerked backward, shattering Ashhur’s vambrace and flinging it aside, smoking. She then bore down and lunged, her maw opened wide.

Ashhur’s fist shot out, plunging deep into the lioness’s flame-filled throat. Lilah’s burning eyes bulged, even as her jaws snapped shut, further crunching and melting the god’s armor. Ashhur’s face scrunched, and he let out a roar as he whipped his upper body around, sending the female Judge careening across the battlefield, crushing and burning those unfortunate enough to be standing in the way. The deity then raised his hand, coated in red-hot rock, and snatched Kayne by his fiery mane. He forced the lion’s head back, the teeth withdrawing from his neck. With a mighty heave, he lifted the gigantic lion up above his head and slammed it back down. The ground cracked on impact.

Velixar’s eyes widened. The energy from the heart of the world continued to flow into him uncontrollably, and he poured all he could into the Judges. The lions were on their feet a moment later, assaulting Ashhur with all they had, but the god was more than their equal. He batted away jaws, slammed his fist into their faces when they snapped at him, driving them backward. He was like a raging comet, his force not to be withstood. Velixar couldn’t understand where he found the strength. He looked about him, where the battle had once raged. It raged no more. Combatants from both sides simply stood there, gawking at the clash of god and ungodly beasts. The Wardens who still lived, as well as half of the human soldiers, were kneeling, looking up at Ashhur with pleading reverence in their eyes. Everyone was coated with blood, making it impossible to tell whose side they’d fought on.