The Last Warlock

Chapter 48 - A Bed Of Blood And Bones



"COME ALL OF YOU!"

Screamed Mack with all the air in his lungs extending his arms to the sides.

Just seeing those mages faces Mack was enraged. The memories of all those impaled childrens and his dead father resurfaced while the pain at his back made him even more enraged.

"COME TAKE A PIECE!"

Mack was snapping.

He was going berserk.

He never cared for his life.

But now? He was seeking his own death. .

Mack looked at the sky and dozens of balls of flames were coming for him. Like birds made of fire searching for his prey, leaving a trail of fire in the air.

BOOM!

Several spells hit all around him.

Fire surrounded every inch in a hundred meters all around Mack.

Hell itself descended on Earth.

Dozens of warlocks and acolytes around the explosion died on that single attack from the group of mages.

The mages took Mack as dead as the stones on ground. All melting to the blazing heat.

But a man walked out of the fire, stepping in dead bodies and carrying a red blood sword.

Step after step.

Ragged clothes and an even more ragged cape fluttering behind him.

Sword in hand and blood in his eyes. Rage consuming his own nerves. And blinding his own mind.

Sun done run out of rays.

And the night sky blurred his shape.

Only the fire burning in his way.

Trying not to go insane.

Mack stomped on the ground, and dust rose in dozens of meters all around.

The mages fired another round, and Mack shot out of the cloud.

One man against dozens of mages.

Mack stomped and changed direction to his right side. And than he stomped on the ground again a few meters later and another dust cloud rose.

The mages could barely follow Mack's speed with their eyes.

Another time he stomped on the ground and changed direction again.

Mack was circling around them.

Who was the prey again?

Fireballs followed Mack's path, but it seemed they could barely scratch him now.

The red mist around Mack seemed so dense that every time he slightly stopped running to change direction, the mist would cover him completely, making impossible to see his silhouette anymore.

Mack kept running around them until he made a full circle.

Then he suddenly stopped.

The mages knew he was up to something, and they spread around, leaving the formation they came.

The mages fired another round of fireballs, and again, hell descended on earth.

Mack raised his hand, and the fire, like a behaved cat, extinguished itself.

The mages looked at each other, not understanding what happened, and seeing the fireballs made no effect, they started to chant their most powerful spells.

Mack run for a mage almost in the middle of all of them and before he could finish the chanting a blade impaled him upwards.

The mage shield was like a bubble of air snapping to the touch of the blade.

Mack didn't grew stronger as time passed. It was the will of everything that he touched with his essence infused blood that grew weaker.

Everything in contact with this essence infused blood would bow to Mack's will.

And Mack's only wish was to kill all mages.

Every. Single. One. Of. Them.

Another mage by the side saw his comrade die like a cow in a slaughter house and hit his staff on the ground.

Mack turned to him and slowly walked in that mage direction.

Several stone thorns big as a man's leg rose from the ground all around Mack.

But none below him.

Mack walked in that mage direction, dragging his sword on the ground. Just like a child would do carrying a stick. Uncaring for all the chants and mages, a child playing with his toys.

A Mack walked, his sword left a long trail carved on ground.

That mage only a few steps from Mack panicked and looked at the other mages all around. All of them focused on chanting their most powerful spells.

That mage did not knew what to do.

He raised his staff and in desperation pointed at Mack while releasing a fireball.

He knew it would not work. But he was out of any powerful spells at bay. He could not restart chanting again or he would be dead.

The fireball blighted the sky and went for Mack's head.

Mack raised his left hand and slapped that fireball,magically, that fireball that was supposed to explode upon contact flew to the side.

BOOM

Another mage was hit by that same fireball.

That other mage shield broke, and his chanting too was stopped.

Mack didn't even look at that mage that was hit and took a dagger from his waist and threw at him.

Another dead mage.

Twelve to go.

All mages kept looking to Mack direction and monitoring all of what he was doing while chanting their spells.

All of that took barely a few seconds to happen, but the mages felt chocked, they never saw something like that.

Mack, right at the middle of all them, knew they were almost ready to pull all their most devastating chanted spells.

He raised his left hand and closed his eyes.

Then a blinding light came out of his left hand.

So bright that all the battlefields stopped.

Everyone looked at that blinding light in the middle of that dark night.

The mages close to Mack, all of them glaring at him, become blind just like Mack itself. He closed his eyes, but the light did not care for that, and blinded all of them.

Mack stomped with both feet on the ground and jumped to the sky.

Like a missile leaving the ground, he rose several dozens of meters in one second.

And at the same time, all spells from all mages in that group, were fired.

Mack kicked both of his feet backs and his boots antigravitational engines started to work.

Mack deactivated his middle-finger runespell, blood stopped leaving his body and the mist around him transformed in a rain of blood.

Dozens of meters below him, several spells hit all around where he previously was.

A chaotic mix of fire and ice and stones and green mist fired at each other.

The mages missed and fired back at each other.

A complete chaos unfolded.

And Mack there, high in the night sky, slowly descending like a plume.

A few minutes later.

~tuk~

Mack fell to the ground, completely tired and exhausted, and below him, a bed made of blood, bones, and body parts.

Behind that almost dried blood over his face, Mack was pale white as a grain of rice.


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