Chapter 29: Hellsworn Power

With The Shroud strengthening him, Ronan flipped backwards into the air. He avoided the Norovir’s slash against the upper ledge of the building, and big stones of debris crashed into the murky water beside the Norovir’s wriggling blue tail.

While in the air, smoke steamed from Ronan's Mark of the Butterfly as he spun his body to avoid another jet of poisonous water from the Norovir’s mouth.

When Ronan landed safely at the other edge of the building, he saw the people of Augustate hurrying to their own roofs, escaping the ever-rising levels of poisonous water through shouts and screams. Ronan’s grip on his sword tightened. In a final passing glance, he saw a poor family of five trembling in filthy tunics on the roof of their house. They sobbed for the few belongings they had that had been lost to the acid water.

Even if Ronan defeated the Norovir, what would be left for these people?

The Norovir hissed a large red tongue through its black fangs, and Ronan knew he couldn’t weigh himself down with such thoughts. He ran at it, stomping his feet up its arm and thrusting his sword at its neck.

But before he could land a blow, lapis colored scales on the Norovir’s neck opened to reveal red gills, and more toxic water gushed out from the slits in its neck.

Making his body lighter with Butterfly magic and his movements lightning fast, Ronan jumped off the Norovir’s shoulder and back to the building.

“Let us guide you,” The Shroud said to Ronan.

Ronan watched the water finish dripping from the Norovir’s gills, and Ronan clenched his fists. His fire was weak to the monster’s abilities, and even with Butterfly magic, the Norovir was such a skilled predator that it was prepared for offensive attacks.

Still, the Hellblade raised Ronan’s arm and pointed itself at the Norovir’s chest, where Ronan imagined its dark, evil heart must be.

Smoke trailed behind Maritza as she leapt three buildings and landed gracefully beside Ronan. Runes and black veins covered half her face, and for a second, Ronan was reminded of Alfred’s white mask covering his burn.

It suddenly felt to Ronan then that everybody around him was trying to hide something.

“Your sword,” Maritza said swiftly, “it’s pointing past the Norovir, to that abandoned building with the red roof.”

“I thought that the Hellblade was focusing itself on this beast,” Ronan said. The sword tugged at his wrist once more.

The Norovir slithered in front of Ronan and Maritza, eyeing them cautiously, and blocking the direct path to the red-roofed building.

Maritza flinched like she’d been struck in the face, then gripped Ronan’s shoulder with one hand and clutched her eye with the other.

“What’s wrong?” Ronan asked.

The Norovir hissed gleefully.

Maritza sprang back up with a growl.

“She’s letting us in,” The Shroud whispered to Ronan. Cold sweat trickled down his neck.

Maritza’s eye had become completely black, and she snapped back to a fighting stance. The Norovir’s blissful hiss turned into a predatory one.

“There!” she exclaimed, “Beneath a fallen statue on the ground floor of that building. The Shroud is showing me a nest of raw Hellsworn energy.”

Ronan said, “Then it’s like the nest of evil energy near where I defeated the Slaug. These portals must be turning creatures into The Corrupted.”

The Norovir looked over its shoulder and glared one eye where Maritza was calling out to. The monster stiffened, as if the two Nightblades had become privy to something it was trying to hide.

Ronan’s sword jittered between his fingers.

He said, “As long as that thing can spit venom at us, it’s got us cornered.”

He looked at Maritza, standing strong with her curly blonde hair in a loose ponytail, and black veins and Runes emblazoned on her neck and face. This was exactly like his reoccurring dream.

“I’ve got an idea,” Maritza said, not breaking contact with the Norovir’s serpentine yellow eyes. “But it’s risky.”

Ronan watched another family scurry to the uppermost part of their wood and hay roof. In her rush, a little girl with ratty blonde hair lost a sandal. It rolled down the roof and into the murky water, boiling up in the poison.

“Whatever plan you have,” Ronan said, “Let’s do it.”

“We’ll only have one shot,” Maritza said firmly. “But this monster can’t generate more water from its mouth if it can’t breathe.”

Ronan gauged how fast he might be able to make it to the red-roof building.

“If you can suffocate the Norovir,” he said, “I’ll deal with the nest.”

Maritza held an arm up and said, “I just might be able to, but you’ll need to be lighting fast to get to the red roof. The Norovir will go berserk if it loses control of its senses.”

“I can do that,” Ronan confirmed.

“Good,” Maritza said. “Then come here and keep your head down.”

She grabbed his head and led him beneath her arm, by her stomach, where he could only vaguely see her Runes glow with a strong black light. Although they were fighting for their lives and the lives of others, Ronan still deeply enjoyed being beside Maritza, and knowing that she wanted to protect him.

Then, a thousand angry and screeching black butterflies flew out from Maritza’s markings. The butterflies swarmed like a tornado, and from their flapping wings launched a storm cloud of black pollen into the air.

“Don’t breathe!” she warned Ronan. “I’ve only ever used this Shroud magic once!”

The sky went black with the poisonous spores and angry butterflies. The cloud of pollen wisped around The Norovir, who swatted its claws at it. During one of its exhales, the pollen entered the Norovir’s mouth and nose, and the Norovir began to choke and cough.

Martiza pushed Ronan aside.

“Now!” she shouted.

But the Norovir swept a large claw at the two of them, and both rolled out of the way with just enough time to feel the breeze of wind generated from the monster’s movement. The Norovir furiously pawed at its throat and face, and banged its body and head against the building in a berserk rage. It tried to roar, but choked on the pollen spores.

The black butterflies in the sky faded away, and Ronan focused on the red-roofed building.

He started to run towards the rooftops on his left, but The Shroud stopped him when it shouted, “Not the roofs!”

Pivoting on his foot at the edge of the roof, Ronan launched himself up and onto the Norovir’s head. His forearm burned and the black veins along his arm glowed, and he activated The Dance of the Butterfly.

From the Norovir’s head, Ronan jumped an incredible distance and landed onto the red-roof building.

Graceful as his landing was, the building’s roof was made of rotten wood, and he fell right through to the floor. As he fell, he watched through the building’s glass windows as the Norovir toppled the houses and homes he had planned to run along.

Had The Shroud not warned him, he surely would’ve been killed.

Ronan landed with a thud on the bottom floor, right beside the debris of a collapsed statue in what seemed to be a warehouse of rejected trinkets and marble figurines. The face of the large statue next to Ronan was of a queenly woman, but half her face, along with most of her body, had been broken away after the statue had fallen.

The Hellblade jolted Ronan upright, and underneath the statue’s crumbled base he saw a small circle of black sludge that irradiated so much foul magic it made his stomach tighten and nose scrunch.

“Absorb it!” The Shroud demanded.

They spoke with a feral tone. “Put your blade to the portal and absorb the magic! It’s the only way to stop the poisonous water from overtaking the town.”

A festering, slimy black bubble popped in the portal, and driblets of more sludge landed on the warehouse floor. The driblets transformed the ground black, and dark roots spread around the statue debris, turning the white marble black as night.

The last thing Ronan wanted to do was make contact with the disgusting portal, but he knew it needed to be done.

He swung his Hellblade down upon the Hellsworn portal as if it were an enemy, and his sword crashed through the floor. In a flash of blinding light, black Essence surrounded Ronan, and the portal’s sludge went up the blade of Ronan’s sword and into the shard of Hellsworn metal at the sword’s pommel.

The veins on Ronan’s arm burned so much he wanted to drop his sword, but it was as though the sword would not allow him to do so. It felt binded to his hand, and he roared out hard enough to shake the dust from the ceiling’s rafters.

Ronan passed out, and awoke to a group of townspeople asking if he was alright.

The Innkeeper and the old lady who had scolded him, Muriel, stood in the back, watching Ronan with mixed emotions. Maritza pushed past everybody and knelt to Ronan’s side.

“They did it,” the Innkeeper mumbled.

The small girl who Ronan had seen lose a sandal on the roof shouted, “They made the bad monster go away!”

“They’re heroes!” the girl’s mother shouted.

“Heroes?” another town member questioned in a gruff voice. “They drained the poison and water, but all our homes are destroyed! Who will pay for that? How will we eat? How will we live?”

Ronan grunted and stopped his forearm from trembling. The black veins had retreated, and he had gained a rank in Serpent and Butterfly, making him a Rank 4 in both.

“You did it,” Maritza said. Her eyes sparkled, and he could tell that she was relieved that he was alright. She kept her hand on his shirtless chest until the sound of clacking heels diverted their attention.

“Step aside, peasants,” an annoying voice declared. It was Lord Wallace, with his navy blue peacoat, cuffed white shirt, and slicked black hair.

He stomped in front of Ronan with his hands behind his back. Two tall, hooded Nightblades in purple cloaks stood with him, and they carried large scythes.

The people of Augustate cowered as Wallace and the two hooded figures approached.

“Sir Ronan,” Wallace sneered, “And I use that term rather lightly. Under the rule of Nightblade court, I place you under arrest for your treason.”

Ronan looked up at Wallace as if he were playing a joke on him.

Maritza marched to Wallace and snarled, “What is this ruse you're playing at?”

Both hooded figures placed the tips of their scythes to her neck. Still, she stood unwavering.

“Arrest them both,” Wallace said with a wave of his hand.

The next thing Ronan knew, his hands were being tied behind his back with thick rope.