Little update: A big thanks to those who are following this story so far! In case you are wondering, this is a self-written story (an amateur attempt I know) during the days when I was fascinated by the stuff about knights, castles, kingdoms and sorcery, you get what I mean. For those who wish to check out the previous chapters, here's the link! With that let the adventure continue!
Chapter 51
After the fight, Moya was slightly surprised by the presence of Maltov but there was no time to waste. After a brief introduction, Maltov was tasked to take care of Selera since he was immobile while Moya and Rak ran up to the throne room. After sprinting up the stairs, they saw the Perisher still in the midst of exchanging blows with Wayne and Edward, who had regained consciousness. Both Edward and Wayne were badly bruised and several of their wounds were bleeding profusely.
Rak immediately flung a crystal at the Perisher and it exploded right in front of his eyes, causing him to roar in agony.
"Weapon defecto!"
Rak dashed forward, preparing to snatch the skeletal sabre away but it wavered mildly in the Perisher's hand and refused to bulge. Recovering from the momentary blindness, the Perisher went berserk and started swiping ferociously at the three of them, causing them to retreat towards the window.
As the Perisher closed in on them, Rak reacted quickly and bravely smashed a couple of crystals at the oncoming creature. The first crystal fulminated right at his right hand and subsequent crystals were set off all around him. Moya took advantage of the situation and tried to disarm the Perisher again.
"Weapon defecto!"
His voice came out stronger and more confident this time. The weapon shook and began to slide off the Perisher’s grip and by the time he felt it, it was too late as the weapon had already slumped to the floor. Rak kept his composure and dove at full stretch towards the weapon but the Perisher let out a powerful kick and sent him flying across the room. Instantaneously, Wayne pierced his mithril scimitar straight into the Perisher’s stomach and then pulled it out. Blood splashed out of the wound onto the ground. A dark red spot on the carpet gradually enlarged as the blood percolated into the layers of fabric and it took only seconds before the carpet turned into a nauseating red colour.
Just as the Perisher raised his hands for a final assault, Wayne slammed his mithril scimitar into him one more time. He roared in pain but collapsed before he could strike Wayne.
"Are you all right, Wayne?" said Edward, as he rushed to Wayne’s side.
"I’m fine." Wayne replied, feeling relief that all was over.
"Is he dead?" Moya asked, as he headed over to join the two of them.
The three of them gathered around the Perisher and were relieved that he was not breathing. They did all sorts of things to him but there was no response.
There was a moment of silence before Edward muttered, "I think he’s dead."
"Let’s go over to see if Rak’s okay."
Moya went over to Rak and as expected, the heavy blow had sent him unconscious and there was a bruise on the back of his head. They agreed that Moya would stay to look after Rak while Edward and Wayne would go down and look for Selera and Maltov.
After both of them left, Moya sat in the room and stared at the Perisher’s corpse. Lots of thoughts went through his mind and he wondered if this was all going to be over. He opened his left palm and looked at 'D' mark and pondered if the sons of Doria had saved the city from the evil clutches of Ariton and the Perisher.
Suddenly, he noticed something strange happening to the corpse. Bits and pieces of the corpse and the skeletal sabre were vaporising into the air as though it was disintegrating by itself! Moya stepped over cautiously and gave a closer look. The outer layer of the Perisher’s skin had already disappeared and his internal organs came into full view. Moya was caught off-guard by the stench and quickly tried to hold his breath as he watched the corpse diminish. Eventually, the last bit of flesh flickered for a second and disappeared into thin air. Moya started to scratch the back of his head, and then a voice made him jump.