Knock, Knock on Death's Door

  William's perspective

  I open my eyes to a stunning white void, like the one I dream about—an empty canvas of nothingness. Just white. The last time I was here, I was supposedly infected with the Blight.

  Looking around, I noticed the golden light wasn't here. Instead, I was alone in eerie silence—just me in an empty white void. Then I thought to myself.

  Was I dead?

  My question stayed in my head as I felt my heart ache. I was getting anxious. Turning back around, I looked to the left and right, seeing nothing.

  "William?" A woman said softly behind me, catching me off guard as I turned around to see her, her golden eyes making contact with mine.

  Staring at me, she stood somewhat shorter than me, but only by an inch. Her face looked familiar, and her nose curved; her gaze gave me a comforting feeling—maybe because I knew her. Her golden eyes gazed into mine. Her golden eyes were gentle like she was happy to see me. She wore a simple, plain white dress.

  "Do I know you," I asked.

  She smiled at me. "No. But I know you."

  I was confused. "Am I… Dead?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly.

  She responded with a giggle. "No. No, you're not."

  "Ok. If I ain't dead. Where am I?"

  "Oh, this?" Her voice jumped up, looking around. "This is in your head. Partly my fault. I wish we met differently, but fate has other plans."

  "Wait? How is this your fault?" I asked abruptly and impatiently. "I... I was in the middle of a fight. What is this place? Why am I here? Who are you?"

  Before I could ask more questions, she brought her fingers up to my lips, shushing me. I was taken aback but deeply embarrassed, but at the same time, strangely at ease.

  "I don't have a lot of time. Listen. My family's bloodline is unique and special. It's what allowed me to talk to you and you to me. I'm sure your father hasn't told you about us. So you must learn about our family, my son. Before fate tells you."

  "What?" I stared at her, confused. Disbelief. Then, it dawned on me.

  "Mom?"

  She reached out and grabbed my arm. "Times up. You need to wake up."

  I narrowed my eyes in confusion. I needed answers. "What? I don't understand." Thinking about it, she did look like my mom. But she's dead. Wait...

  And what did she mean by our family?

  She squeezed my arm tighter, making it feel weird. Strange. "You need to wake up." Her voice sounded somewhat distorted.

  "What?" I asked, only to feel my arm felt odd. Painful. The pain slowly spread up from my wrist, the one she grabbed. Looking down at it, my heart sank in horror.

  My hand was gone.

  Looking back up, fear and confusion in my eyes, I stared at the woman who was supposedly my mom. "Wake up," her voice echoed throughout the white void as everything turned black. I closed my eyes quickly. Opening them again, I realized I was back in the cavern, my sword clashing with the wolf knight.

  I was unconscious for a few seconds, but now I am back.

  I am steadily securing my position again and ensuring my feet are in the right spot to hold back this monster. However, I felt weak and fatigued—more than usual—but I could keep going. It was just from casting magic, constant battling, and having a strange vision.

  My heart pounded in my chest, and my head got dizzy as I felt my veins pulsate through my body. It was odd. I tried to ignore it as I pushed the knight back, gripping my sword's hilt tighter. Our blades clung to each other, and the sound of metal scraping against metal continued to play like a symphony in front of us.

  When I moved my free arm to grab the handle of my sword, I saw my hand was missing. My right hand, which was holding my sword, was still intact. But my left hand wasn't on the hilt. I could feel it still. I could almost feel the texture of the handle. However, blinking again, I only saw blood spewing out where my hand would be. With each pulse I felt in my veins, blood seeped out.

  Looking at it, pain spread rapidly through my body, radiating from the hand. I fell onto the floor, howling out in pain, dropping my sword to grasp my hand. Clenching my teeth and eyes, I tried to push the pain back, but it was too much. My head was all over the place as I rolled back and forth on the ground. I couldn't understand what was happening anymore while I tried to keep tears from pouring out.

  Getting up to my knees, I found my missing hand lying beneath me. Yet I can still feel it attached to my arm. But it's right there on the ground. I know it's there, but my body didn't care. I could feel every inch of my left hand, from the pulsating veins to the cold wind that blew in the air around us. But it's not there on my arm.

  Gasping out, each breath sounded like a hiss as I watched the wolf knight approach me slowly with their sword. I could barely move due to the pain.

  How can this pain be worse than the pain from earlier? It doesn't make sense.

  The knight raised their sword to my neck. Gritting my teeth, I tried to move, but I couldn't. Every time I tried, my body was on fire. Every muscle and nerve burned and spasm, all sourcing from my missing left hand. The longer my arm bled, the more my head spins.

  The knight swung their sword up over themselves, ready to slice my head off. Fear crept in as I started to see moments with my father. Lord Barren, Auntie Sifle. It was happening again. I was going to die.

  "No," I mumbled, fear creeping in.

  Time slowed as I watched the sword descend towards me like a guillotine. I could feel my eyes widen so much that they could fall out. The tension in my body was like cloth being ripped, my teeth almost cracking as my body quivered.

  At the last moment, as the blade approached my head, my body finally shifted out of the way. While the sword flew past me with a quiet whush, I closed in on the knight, my body on fire as I used all my strength to push down my fatigue. Closing my only hand into a fist, I threw it into the knight's chest plate. Not caring about my hand's condition, I pushed my fist through, feeling my knuckles dig into the knight's chest plate, metal bending at my will.

  The sound of bone breaking entered my ear as the knight spat out blood from their helmet. Following through with my punch, I launched the knight into the air with a loud scream. My throat was sore, and now it felt like I swallowed sandpaper.

  Gritting my teeth, I cradled both of my hands, getting blood all over my clothes. My other hand was aching from that punch.

  The knight landed harshly, tumbling in pain. They spat out blood from their helmet. "You resisted the poison?" The knight coughed up, drawing my attention to them.

  They spoke. Aren't they infected?

  No longer caring, I reached out and grabbed my sword, charging at the knight while they were still down. Slamming my sword down, the knight guarded with a newly formed shield, causing my sword to bounce off. Not letting up, I swung the opposite way, channeling a little of my magic for what I know as the skill [Upper slash]

  The knight, however, recovered immediately, pulling out a few knives. I leaped out of the way as the knives flew past me, rolling onto the cold, rough ground. I can feel myself getting weaker every second as more of my blood seeps out of me. Sluggishly pushing off the ground, I charged at them once more.

  Closing the distance, the knight formed a sword in hand. We clashed as I used whatever strength I had. Our swords struck, filling the air with the sound of metal hitting metal; sparks lit up from each attack. The sword I took from Thomas was holding up against theirs.

  I noticed blood dripping from the grooves of their helmet, their breath heavy.

  Pushing away, I thrust my sword, however the knight parried and followed up with a counterattack. My eyes widened in shock as I prepared for the worst. To my luck a pillar of ice emerged between us, preventing the knight from striking down at me.

  Sanguine rushed in, striking with quick and precise attacks at the knight, putting them on the defensive. The knight pivoted from side to side, moving with an unnatural physique for someone in full, heavy armor. I noted Azrael's tired state as she was on her knees, her arm stretched and shaking. Most likely out of mana.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  I moved to flank the knight while Sanguine had their attention. As I moved myself directly behind the knight, they formed a massive halberd and thrust it at me. Despite my weak state, I quickly redirected the tip in time away from me, but the knight followed up with a wide arc swing at Sanguine. As the curved edge of the halberd made its way to Sanguine, he ducked under it.

  The knight didn't stop, continuing to swing the halberd back around, increasing its speed and momentum. It was a feint, and we fell for it.

  I fell for it. Like my time with the Heraraptor; the fiends that almost killed me in Zarmen forest.

  My heart sank, watching the halberd come right around at me. I was too slow to respond as I felt the halberd cut through what remained of my arm.

  Sanguine shouted something, but my ears rang as I saw him flying back. I tried to move, but the only response my body gave was a slight twitch. A quick cold chill filled me as I felt a warm liquid drip from my arm and stomach. The fatigue I was resisting earlier now came as I struggled to remain conscious. The warmth came in waves that matched my heartbeat.

  Struggling to look down, I could only imagine the halberd's blade that struck me. I could feel its cold blade against the warmth that leaked out of me. Gritting my teeth as the pain slowly radiated from the wound. But I was too tired to react to it; it was like I was numbed by it.

  The knight pulled on their halberd, drawing me close. I was helpless to defend against their kick, tearing my insides up with the halberd. Falling flat on the ground, my blood painted the ground as it fled my body.

  I just now realized my breathing was slow with exhaustion, my body numbed yet cold, my eyes struggling to remain open, and my mind fleeting towards eternal sleep.

  Gritting my teeth as I tried to move. My body didn't respond, so I kept trying. I couldn't just let it end like this. I couldn't die so soon. I had so many things I needed to do. I have too many things I need to do.

  Everything started to slow down as I try to resist the cold. The breath of death was embracing me.

  With the remaining life in me, the knight moved closer to finish me off. I was starting to see double as they formed a sword. Bringing it over my chest, I felt it slide into me as my vision blurred, letting out one last exhale as a faint scream echoed past me.

  William lay on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. The knight stood over him as they pulled out their sword. They swatted the blood off their sword as they puzzled over William's resilience.

  "For someone young, his body is way too strong. Especially with how damaged he was, not only did he withstand the poison I coated my Wolf Blade in, but he dented my spirit armor and broke seven, maybe ten of my ribs with one punch," the knight thought while pressing their hand against their dented chest plate. "He must have a magical body before he became a Rider. This would've been bad for me if he was a Dragon Knight or was at full strength. Here, I thought my luck was bad enough; looks like fortune is on my side."

  The knight took note of William, hearing his heartbeat. He wasn't dead just yet. It was a miracle that William was still alive. But the knight knew he would be dead here in a moment.

  Turning away from William, the knight turns towards Sanguine as he lies on the ground in shock, rubbing his injured chest. The gun the knight shot was gone but was at their disposal at a moment's notice. The knight knew all they needed about Sanguine and Azrael.

  Sanguine used some form of magic that altered the knight's perspective. The knight couldn't tell how much it changed, but all they needed was smelling and hearing. Any illusion based on sight would be meaningless.

  Azrael used Ice Affinity Dragon magic. But she was nearly out of mana. Her magic isn't a threat.

  They were the Wolf Knight's enemy, and they weren't going to show any mercy.

  "That's enough, Art. " A loud, deep, graveled, clear voice echoed throughout the chamber as something landed a few feet away from the knight, blocked by smoke and dust.

  As the dust cleared away, a maroon-red Drakonic stood up. Its wings batted the dust away. Its massive muscles were like steel. In his hand, there was an odd-looking mace. But one thing that shocked Art. The Drakonic wasn't wearing anything except sandals.

  "Gods, put some clothes on, Argon," the wolf knight said in disgust, covering their face. "I hate having to see your dick fly around."

  Sanguine and Azrael were stunned and puzzled, unable to speak as they tried to process what was happening. Azrael, though, was too caught up with William. Despite their differences, William's reckless decisions saved her and Sanguine. He even stopped Thomas, a dragon knight. Her personal bodyguard became delusional. Even if William was a commoner, she had a great level of respect for both him and his father.

  "I expected better from you, Art," Argon spoke harshly as they moved towards Art but suddenly started sniffing the air. "What is that fucking smell? Smells like copper mixed with dead shit."

  Art scoffed. "I'm a little busy right now. Take your naked ass elsewhere."

  Argon glared, snaring at Art. "And I told you that's enough."

  "Or what? They are the enemy, so they must be killed." Art didn't stutter.

  "Never thought you were brainless."

  "Never thought you would have a brain. I thought you dumb lizards lacked one."

  "Want me to show you what it means to lack one?"

  Both of them went quiet. Sanguine and Azrael didn't bother speaking up, but they knew they hated each other. There was a sense of a fight about to happen.

  Both Argon and Art charged at each other. Art transformed his weapon into a rifle as the sounds of gunfire echoed around him. Light flickered off of Art's armor while Argon used his wings to block incoming barrages of bullets, each one bouncing off without scratching him.

  Closing the distance, Argon flung his protective wing out, smacking Art's gun back, forcing an opening. He followed up with a swing of his mace, only for Art to form a shield that stopped Argon's attack with a loud clang and a nasty crunch. Art couldn't handle Argon's raw strength, loudly grunting as his hand broke from the impact. Art attempted to strike back without letting go of the shield, forming a sword in his free hand and thrusting it at the colossal beast before him.

  Argon not only caught Art's strike, Argon closed in immediately. Before Art could blink, he saw a Drakonic face slamming into his helmet. Art's world faded black as he collided with the ground. The raw force of Argon's headbutt was enough to break a skull in half.

  Art was lucky to be alive.

  Before Art could defend himself, Argon swatted his shield away with his mace. Stepping over Art, Argon pounded into him. The sound of metal cracking and bending boomed as the ground cracked under Argon's strength. The earth couldn't handle the stress, fracturing like glass being hit. Each punch Argon threw made the earth crack as Art lay there helpless.

  Art's armor was tattered and dented with punch marks. Argon showed no mercy. Blood dripped down from the grooves of the helmet. "You… bastard.." Art coughed up, unable to move his body. "This will kill me."

  Without a sign of fatigue, Argon stepped off of Art's crippled body with annoyance. "Even after a god's blessing, you're still a pathetic excuse of a wolf knight. You know better," Argon snorts, stomping towards William. He gave Art one last look. "Know your fucking place, hairless ape," Argon let out, his voice hinting with malice.

  Kneeling before William, Argon took close notes of William's condition. He didn't have sharp senses like Art, but he had seen enough dead bodies to understand what death looked like. Seeing William's wounds, Argon came up with a solution. Turning to Azrael, Argon spoke up. "Ice girl, here. Now." Argon's voice was demanding, snarling at Azrael. His raw presence would make anyone fearful, even a dragon knight like Thomas.

  Azrael, snapping out of her confusion, crawled towards William. Her body was hitting its limit as she pressed her arm to her chest plate. Argon knew she would require medical attention after this, but his attention was on William.

  Azrael gasped harshly, her voice filled with exhaustion and horror, as she made it to William. Argon, without hesitation, grabbed her hand and pressed it against William's side. "Freeze the wound, now," Argon demanded, startling the weak dragon rider.

  Azrael grits her teeth, her stomach turning in and out at the sight of William's blood. She has seen Blight fiend's insides, but she never dreamt of seeing one of her allies. Focusing, Azrael poured whatever magic she had left, covering William's bloody side with a frozen case of ice. Some of his skin was turning black from the contact of ice. Azrael didn't know what to do. She couldn't tell if it was killing him or saving him anymore. A part of her wished she could do more, but any idea of that popped into her head she was too afraid to do.

  I always do this, she thought to herself. Too weak to do what I want.

  But Argon had no tolerance for Azrael's lack of courage, and he had no tolerance for her weakness. "Freeze his arm," Argon growled, moving her hand to Williams's bleeding arm.

  Azrael understood that Argon wanted her to stop William from bleeding. She did just as Argon requested, covering William's injured arm in ice. She could see the bone cleanly cut off where his forearm would be. She was getting sicker and sicker just by looking, but her low mana supply was the only thing from vomiting.

  Argon shoves Azrael out of the way, not caring for her well-being, as he brutally picks William up, tossing him over his shoulder. "We are leaving," Argon growls, turning to Azrael and picking her up. Argon's claws dug into Azrael's stomach as he carried her by his side. She cried out in pain, flinging her arms around to grasp onto anything she could to ease the discomfort. Turning to Sanguine, Argon growls, "You. Watch him," gesturing towards Art, who lay helplessly on the floor.

  There was no hassling. Just do.

  Argon wasn't taking any other answers, and no one would tell him no, or they would end up like Art.

  Before Azrael knew it, Argon spread his wings and leaped into the air, jumping from one side of the cavern wall to the next, using his wings to lift himself higher. Azrael's hair blew in the wind, turning into a wavy mess as she held onto Argon. She jerks side to side, letting out a loud groan of discomfort each time Argon crashes into the wall. His feet held up as he pushed off quickly like William and Azrael did not weigh a thing.

  Argon soon landed at the very top, where a light shone at the end of a tunnel. Argon dashed towards the light, Azrael unable to look away. At long last, they were about to make it out. As they drew closer to the exit, she closed her eyes tightly, the light becoming unbearable.

  With a sudden wave of heat brushing against Azrael's face, she finally opens her eyes and sees trees and brushes. The once cold, dark cave of a blight nest now vanishes. The ground is still covered in black veins but no longer completely covering the cave.

  The sound of soldiers echoed around Azrael. She noticed a campsite of armed soldiers—Asgardian soldiers. They surrounded her and Argon. At the center of the camp was the blight nest entrance that Azrael and her group first entered, and then there was the one that she had just left. She was stunned. She thought that Lord Ryu sent them all there to die. She couldn't believe he would send his soldiers here after sending her group.

  She almost cried until the sound of William's father, Gwyn and Dimmel. She cursed herself in her head. It's Lord Dimmel. Even if he wasn't a Dragon Lord anymore, she was moved by his choices. He placed his trust in these strangers, William and Gwyn. William saved her from someone who was supposed to protect her. She didn't like William and Gwyn but felt they could be trusted after what had happened. A lot more than those that surround her back home. Or William could be trusted more.

  Argon dropped her and William onto the ground as Gwyn rushed to William's side. "Will!" Gwyn cries out, sliding on the ground and scrapping his knees, but he couldn't care less. He examines Will's wounds, gasping in horror that his son is so close to death. "Oh god. What happened?"

  "Art happened," Argon answered. He soon turned to the soldiers at the camp, who came rushing in to assist them. "We need a healer now!"

  "That won't be necessary," said a familiar voice ranged over as Azrael's white dragon came rushing over to its rider. It was Lord Ryu.

  "My lord," Gwyn cried out, cradling Will's head. "What do you mean?"

  Ryu walked closer to Gwyn. "I will heal him myself," Ryu declared, raising his hands as his eyes glow in m?a?g?i?c? ?l?i?g?h?t?.