Artredies arrived infront of the stronghold and instead of going in to fight head on, he begun to cast a spell — one which was far too great for any expert level mage. One could argue that it was a divine one, but why perform such a lethal move?

  The powerful Artredies could have just went ahead and killed everyone in the stronghold without using so much magika that would destroy his mortal body. Well, the reason was a disease that he had been infected with somewhere in the last decade. The mage-king had personally examined him and was not able to find any cure.

  His body was being eaten from inside, slowly yet consistently. The disease was being suppressed in the past, but now with aging, he was becoming weaker by the day.

  Artredies wanted to go while casting the one spell that he had been secretly researching his entire life. He had already laid out the final commands to his students. They knew that their master intended to sacrifice himself in the process yet—

  Graftel and Yhorm did not oppose their master. Their final instructions were to evacuate as many innocent lives they could find in the meantime that their master was casting the spell — it would take atleast half a day.

  The stronghold had atleast fifty thousand minotaurs, so this was not a small group; this sub-race of the demons was the most ferocious and wild one under the demon emperor — it was also not strategic at all.

  The minotaurs, infact, were so wild that they never ever gave loyalty to anyone even if the person infront them was the demon emperor himself.

  Now this was their entire force gathered at one place and if they were put down right now, the demonic continent would suffer a huge blow — it might even shift the power of balance in the world. If these demons were to fight in a head-on battle against the royal army without the presence of Artredies, the southern continent would most likely lose. Considering the risk, extreme measures were necessary on top of being convenient.

  The rescue operation went smoothly. Even if the minotaurs were stronger than the average soldier, they were no match for the sword-saint Graftel and storm-sword Yhorm — they earned their titles in this battle.

  The bunch cut down anyone who came infront whist saving as many of the innocent ones as possible.

  The other men who were in this small royal force were also officers. Even if they were no match for their leader, but they were still very formidable against any average soldier.

  In the end the group was able to reach the dungeons — grabbing as less attention as possible; there were four mighty minotaur captains there, but Graf and Yhorm proved to be too overwhelming for them. The brute strength and swordsmanship of Graftel supported by the expert level spells of Yhorm, they were a force to be reckoned with.

  Ofcourse, it was not as if there was no opposition at all. The head-guard of the dungeon proved to be a real challenge for even this unstoppable pair.

  He was smaller than the average minotaur, yet wielded a great-sword in one hand and a great-axe in the other.

  He had the strength of a demon but the agility of a beast-man. On top of everything, he was very skillful — even comparable to the sword saint himself. This hellspawn was also not as mindless as his other men — he engaged with caution.

  His strategy was to maintain distance between himself and Graftel while trying to attack Yhorm who was not as skilled swordsman as his counterpart, or so he had hypothesized.

  After countless attempts to escape the attacks of Graftel, he finally came face to face with the storm-sword. The demon thought that he had finally succeeded as this was a mere mage who he could easily overpower in close quarter but—

  He was shocked to discover as a sword pierced right through his heart as he was trying to deliver the final blow. The attack was so fast that there was no way even a master like Graftel could keep up with the speed.

  Yhorm had finally learned and mastered the technique of infusing magika with the sword under the guidance from Artredies. Some would argue that he had, at this point, simply surpassed Graftel. Of-course, this was only in theory.

  Their enemy was laid dead. They finally made their way out of the stronghold with as many innocent rescued as they could.

  Upon returning back to safety Graftel observed that his comrade Yhorm had been stabbed in the back with a spear and was bleeding continuously. Their bodies were tense before, so Yhorm only felt the pain now. He soon lost consciousness after having lost alot blood.

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  Graftel was worried for his friend, but he left him under the care of the other officers — one was an advanced level healer.

  The mage officer could not heal the lad completely but he could close the wound — make the blood stop — and that will buy them enough time to get back to a safe place. For now Graftel had to rush to his commander, Artredies, who had been waiting for his signal.

  The minotaurs had also become aware of the invasion that had just occurred right under their nose. They were now assembling an army to march towards their enemy.

  Upon receiving the confirmation from Graf, Artredies nodded as if saying farewell to his student. The sword-saint, with a sullen expression on his face, bowed as a sign of respect. Artredies gave a faint smiled and then finally casted the spell.

  There had been clouds gathering since the time he had first started to chant the spell and now they were made to rain. This is not just any rain, but a rain of hell-fire.

  The whole stronghold and some of its outskirts burst into fire from above and below. The proximity of the area was about ten kilometers to all sides. There was not a single corner that had been left after the spell had been casted completely — all that remained was smoke, ash and fire.

  All it's residents were burnt to a crisp, this attack could even be compared to an atomic blast. The whole elite army of the demon continent was no more — the battle had finished before even starting.

  As for the great leader behind this whole operation, his whole body had exploded from the stress and strain it had endured. It was a gruesome, grotesque sight, but Graftel did not look away; he stood there with respect for the sacrifice of his master.

  Artredies will be remembered throughout history as the one who sacrificed his life for the protection of his continent, and the one who killed fifty thousand elite demons in a single instance. Artredies was the type of man born after a millennia and he certainly will live in the hearts of his people and his enemies forever — engraved as a legendary figure — to be loved and feared respectively.

  Upon returning to the capital, the group was welcomed as heroes, with chants of admiration and love being echoed throughout the entire capital. They had earned it, of-course. In the lead of the small force was a single horse, riderless, and covered with a cape stained with blood — it belonged to the strongest man in the continent, arguably in the entire world.

  The country had lost its greatest warrior that day even if they had won the battle. The loss was simply far too great to be celebrated by the veterans of the battle who wore gloomy and sorrowful expressions.

  Yhorm was awake but was not able to ride, so he was being carried in a cart.

  Upon reaching the main castle they were welcomed with respect. The wounded were taken immediately to be treated under the best healers in the whole continent. The mage-king personally called upon the two warriors — he was referring to the sword-saint and the storm-sword.

  After two days of time to recover, Yhorm was back to normal, so now Graf and him answered the call of the mage-king.

  They entered the golden hall. They went near — the nearest to the throne that any man had ever come — until there was only a thin veil in between them.

  The figure of the mage-king was visible — a very tall and lean one. He wore a crown as well which was huge in comparison to his head. The king sat on a throne that was placed high up from the rest of the hall, yet due to the genius of the architecture the whole hall could hear if the king addressed.

  Yhorm and Graftel, after bowing first, stood firmly awaiting for the response from their king.

  “You have done well children, yet there has been left a gap that will never be filled and that void will come to haunt us in the centuries to come. Your master was very stubborn till the end. I had advised him to let me make his body free from the mortal chains. He could have lived without that damned disease, but he rejected again and again. He was of the opinion that he will lose his humanity if he accepted my offer. He was a fool….”

  The mage king’s voice was soft and shrilled. He spoke with a calm and peaceful demeanour, but his comments about the dead commander did not go unheard of.

  Graftel gritted his teeth. Infact, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword — the atmosphere became tense. Soon the king continued:

  “He was a fool, but he was a man I respected the most. I am sure you are aware that I have lived for centuries. I have travelled across this wide world, met some people who can not even be perceived to be of this world — they were divine, out of this world and yet…..yet that man was the pinnacle of strength. He was the most honourable and humble person I have had met, and I am sure we will never see the likings of his ever again....Still, do not fret too much children as I am sure that Artredies left his legacy behind, and that is you two—" The king took a small pause in between as if to catch his breath:

  "He never spent much time with any of his students but you two….you two are special. He kept you close till the end of his life, so now I want to ask you question.” He took quite a long pause before finally questioning:

  “Do you two want to become immortal? Do you want to be free from the chains of mortality? Forget about death and live forever? DO YOU WANT TO REACH DIVINITY? IF YES, THEN WALK FORWARD AND CROSS THROUGH THIS VEIL.” the mage king’s last sentence was loud, firm and desperate.

  There was no movement from the other side and of-course there was not going to be. Artredies had trained them to be just like himself, they would never walk on a path that their master had refused to walk on.

  "Just like your master....Very well, then you people may stay in the royal army. I will be promoting you to the highest ranks where no other authorities except for myself can question your orders. I want you to shape the army like how Artredies shaped you; become the replacement of your master so we do not end up being destroyed by our neighbors, but beware I have seen terrible….terrible things in the future. The one link that was holding together this whole continent has been broken.....I see the shoots of war growing throughout the land, and I foresee betrayals, corruption and treachery. If you can keep the royal army together and the same as that of its golden time then we may be able to avoid it, but the chances are slim…..”

  The mage-king sounded almost fanatic to the two warriors. He warned them about the future — about these prophecies that he have had. He appeared to be crazy and yet sincere.....