Chapter Forty-Six


    A cobra the size of a large boat and the color of hot sand and burnished gold struck out at Ambrose. Silver chains formed of the mist of a moonlit night bathed in flames of darkest shadow, wrapped around the large snake and yanked it to the side before it could make contact with him.


    Ambrose flared his spirit, but as expected, his spirit met resistance. Ambrose frowned because the opposing spiritual force wasn’t coming precisely from Kellan himself; instead, it felt like the staff in his hands was pulsing with it.


    Kellan lifted the staff, and the sand itself responded to his call, a pillar of it rocketing toward him like an oncoming train. Ambrose opened a portal right in front of him, sending the pillar through it and directly on top of Kellan.


    Kellan’s face twisted into a grimace, but he held up a hand, and instead of the sand crashing down on him with the force of a landslide, it parted around him in a cloud of golden brown rain.


    Ambrose took the opportunity to form an axe of hellfire, cleaving through the cobra, which vanished in a burst of sand-colored mana. Kellan raised his staff, and sand began to coalesce around him.


    Ambrose sent a blast of hellfire at him, but a shield of sand formed in the air, blocking it. This gave Kellan enough time to finish what he was doing, and a huge…creature of sand was before him. It was a giant lion creature with a swirling tail and glyphs of pale blue shown on its body.


    Spirit flared from it as Kellan’s voice roared,


    “YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WITH POWER?!”


    Ambrose didn’t respond. Instead, he allowed Akaroth to draw on his mana and the clouds above began to rotate, growing and turning gray like an eldritch monster was forming in the sky. Kellan did not wait for the storm to finish forming but instead pounced on him with claws of sand extending.


    Ambrose didn’t try to dodge. Instead, he opened a portal, and falling into it, he fell through the air, throwing Akaroth forward. She took her true form, and Ambrose fell onto her back. With an effort of will, he manifested Noelle, and she roared her fury as her white form, suffused with radiant lightning, fell onto the sand lion.


    Her claws began to rake at the sand, the lightning creating furrows of fulgurite.


    Akaroth opened her maw, gathering power to unleash upon Kellan, the towering lion.


    But the leader of Kweneng was not interested in just sitting there. He let out a thundering roar, reared up a massive paw of sand, and struck a blow against Akaroth; her face pushed to the side from the force of it, she prematurely unleashed the beam she had been building, and the crowd around us screamed and scattered.


    Turns out, they had not created enough distance after all. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Destructing lightning, crackling, and spitting turned the very sand black. Kellan’s maw opened, and he tried to go for Akaroth’s throat,.


    But Noelle was not idle, she had been running up the lion’s body and bounded upward, falling like a flashing bolt of white, she smashed into his head. Akaroth reared, and Ambrose flooded infernal mana into her. As he did, he unmanifested Noelle as she was falling from Kellan’s head.


    Akaroth began to warp as stygian eldritch veins of liquid flame shot through her form. Her eyes glowed as her pupils gained a subtle hint of carmine light. Her wings became wreathed in the same fire, and she breathed lightning and hellfire upon Kellan.


    It was at this point that Ambrose pulled out his trump card.


    Before visiting Kellan, and after dealing with the Leshi incursion, he had gone to the tree of Avalon and meditated on his Icon. Another piece of the puzzle had slid into place, and now…now he could call upon it.


    Akaroth’s power, fueled by his infernal mana, blasted into Kellan, and the moment it did, Ambrose called upon his Icon.


    The Forge Icon was feint; Ambrose still needed to do more work meditating and understanding how he was connected with it, but it was a power Kellan couldn’t match. Not as he was, not even with his staff.


    It was almost an afterimage, straight out of a fantasy story, and drawn by an amazing illustrator of shadow and light. Ambrose wasn’t quite sure what the Icon did, but calling upon it was as easy as tapping his mana with his will.


    The Forge, though not fully in focus, gave weight and power to his attack that Kellan couldn’t match. It was as if Ambrose’s attack was more real, more present than Kellan. Blasting through the sand as if it weren’t there, the hellfire and lightning stripped the sand bare to reveal Kellan at its core.


    His eyes widened, and his mouth opened in a scream of fury and pain.


    Spirit flared, lashing out like a whip, but Ambrose’s own spirit, backed by the power, as feint as it was, of his Icon, quickly crushed it like a bug.


    Ambrose watched as Kellan screamed, eyes wild, as his flesh began to turn to ash before his very eyes.


    “NOT LIKE THIS!” Kellan bellowed.


    Ambrose said nothing in reply; he poured on the power, and it wasn’t long before the forerunner, leader of Kwenang, was nothing more than ashes on a desert wind. Surprisingly, Ambrose gained nothing for his death.


    He had thought that Kellan might decide to submit, but proud till the end, he had refused.


    Ambrose had no desire to lead Kwenang and didn’t even bother trying to help the town find a new leader. Nor did he even try to look for the System Seed. Instead, he poured mana into his voice and allowed it to roll forth, carrying to every ear in the area.


    “Your leader is dead. Slain in a formal System-recognized duel. You will no longer be able to threaten the dwarves. I will be sending ambassadors from Avalon to discuss new terms with your people and help establish a new leader if you so desire. It didn’t have to be this way, but it is. Let it be a lesson not to cross me.”


    Ambrose left through a portal, Akaroth retaking her axe form.


    A dragon does not suffer fools, and neither, it seems, do you, Knight.


    Noelle sent him feelings of satisfaction as he reappeared at the dwarven entrance. Aleksei greeted him by offering him alcohol, which he turned down. Aleksei led him down, and before long, he was once again before Throrvin, the dwarven king,


    Throrvin fingered his beard,


    “It appears you return victorious.”


    Ambrose nodded,


    “Yes, Kellan Akenyemi will no longer be troubling you. Or anyone, for that matter.”


    Throrvin did not react jubilantly at his words, instead he merely grunted.


    “Now, it’s your turn, I want your help with the fire giants. You said you had a way to deal with their array.”


    Thorvin smiled,


    “Indeed, human. But I will offer more than that.” He clapped his hands, and Aleksei came in with a map.


    Throrvin unrolled the scroll, gesturing at Ambrose to come forward.


    When he laid his eye on the scroll, he blinked.


    Throrvin’s smile grew.