Draconic Testament (42 page)

“Hah...” Duty said. “You seem to have been through quite a bit already... You’ve got a lot to contend with... Draynar and Sheol...”
“You know about what’s going on outside?” Zaxxarius asked.
“Only through you.” Duty said. “You have my blessing to continue your journey.” Duty stood to his feet. “Will you accept my skills and memories?”
“I will.” Zaxxarius said. “I’ll put them to as best use I can, so your life can have further meaning.” Duty gripped Zaxxarius’ shoulders, and he felt his Magic Pool go haywire. His head started to feel light, and that was not exactly normal for when you were passed out. He felt information flowing into his head. There were many unimportant memories that he did not care about, and some that made no sense, but he felt that he would come to understand most in time. Then, when Duty let go, the world began to go blank. Zaxxarius thought he was going to the next Overlord, but he realised that he was still in Ultima. But, not as himself. As Duty. He realised he was about to relive the final moments of his life.
The Bridge underneath Duty’s feet was made of stone, which is unusual and usually unbeneficial, but it was excellent craftsmanship. Built by the Orina, a reminder of their tribal days, where everything was built out of stone. His father had told him of those days, once, when the portal was erected in Pontaron. Xelphan was there, overlooking the Marvel as the Overlords of Pontaron was erecting the Portal. He personally supplied the Magic to the Overlords and walked through the portal as a missionary. The Orina used to make huge stone swords, stone axes, and stone war hammers. Their strength allowed them to obliterate their foes. It was apparently quite the spectacle, when the Orina saw them. They spread wild tales of how they were sorcerers and witches, and hunts for them were made, out of fear and stupid speculation. They were right, of course, but they had not come to eat their children and make their wives bear horrid beasts in their wombs. They were there under terms of peace. After 2 years, they left an Evolution package with the smartest of the Orina, and left. They came back a decade later to see improvement around the portal site. Then, they were accepted. Duty huffed at the recollection of the events he had made in his head. “Father...” He whispered to himself. “I'm here... to avenge you. So why do I feel like you wouldn’t approve?” Soldiers close to him overheard this, and looked ahead so not to make eye contact. Overlords were inherently powerful, and Duty was crazy. This made him extremely dangerous, and scary at the same time. Most soldiers did not even want to be there, fighting for him, as he was as likely to kill you as to talk to you. Whispering to himself was about the least scary thing he had been up to, among the past years. The gates of Ultima finally gave in, and a loud crash erupted as the battering ram broke through the shields erected by the Sorcerers on the other side. Combat was still in progress on the high walls of Ultima, as Duty had sent some of his soldiers to climb the wall with magic. Of course, most of them got cast down into the deep moat with Magic, but that had ceased to happen when eventually, the seventh wave of Cazrians made it on top of the wall. There, the Cazrians rained down arrows from their Arcanum bows and cut down many of the opposition waiting on the other side of the gate. Such is the power of the Metholian Army. As the gates swung open, the Cazrians raced through the gate, slaying the exhausted sorcerers on the other end. Ultima was a peaceful kingdom, wanting to live only in harmony. Festivals were rampant in this place, and it was a kingdom where only fun had a place. This, and the fact Ultimali was such an admirable and strong Sorcerer, was the main reason that this place had so many residents, and expanded fast. It was full of people who did not want war, which meant it was full of people who were defenceless against Duty’s onslaught. The thought of Ultima’s residents dying and screaming like Orina was hilarious to Duty, and exciting. He indulged himself in the massacre, killing anyone who he could see, who got in his way. Sometimes, perhaps his own men. The fighting died down, and the Metholian army was confused as all they saw was the elderly, women, harmless men, and children to greet them. The Army stood there, watching Duty, hoping he’s give them some sort of moralistic order. They were a highly religious kingdom, and they had always fought with honour. But this? They were killing their own countrymen. Ultima might be an independent kingdom, but most of the residents came here from Metholi. Why was this happening?
Duty was too busy killing to notice his army had stopped the slaughter. He had killed too many to count. As the man who he had punctured the throat of fell to the ground, he turned to his next victim. A little boy, cowering in fear, so scared that he could not move. Duty approached the boy, smiling wickedly, fiddling with his Arcana as he approached. As he came within reach of the boy, the army watched him in horror as he ignited his weapon. “Wait!” A feminine voice shouted. “Please, no!” Someone came running from the right of Duty. He watched in amusement as she fell to her knees when she reached him. “Please, I beg of you! Not this child, he’s done nothing! He’s innocent! Take me instead, please, I’ll do anything!”
“Anything, you say?” Duty said wickedly. “Anything?”
“Y-yes... Anything...” The woman pleaded. He pondered what humiliating act that he would do, so he could laugh and gloat as she did it. He looked back at his men, hoping for some idea to come to his head. The men and women of the Metholian army, skilled in many areas and endured many wars, looked at the ground in dismay, not wanting to look him in the eyes. They were ashamed to follow this man, but Duty did not care. He only cared if they dared to speak out, but looking at them, he doubted any of them would. He turned back to the pleading woman. “My shoes are awfully bloody, don’t you think?” He asked her. “E-Err... Yes, your grace...” She whimpered, in confusion.
“I like mutts, don’t you?” Duty asked. “Only creatures that can love, I say.”
“Y-Yes... y-your grace.” She whispered.
“Be a good mutt, and lick the muck off the boots.” Duty said. “Go on, now, unless you’d like me to add the child’s blood to them.” The woman immediately began to lick the boots. “Drink it. Don't stain the grass!” He roars. She shudders as she gulps down the blood from both of his boots, then looks up, shaken and disturbed. “Will you let us go now?” She whimpers, crying.
“You’ve insulted wolves all over Cazria.” Duty laughed. “You deserve to DIE!” He swipes at her neck with his Arcana, and her head goes flying off her shoulders, rolling across the grass. The body slumps, and the blood from the neck squirts onto his boots. “Going to have to find a new mutt. Hahaha!” He laughs, evilly. Then he turns to the child. “You’re too small to be a mutt. Ah well, I suppose you’ll just have to share the fate of the lady over there.” He chuckled. Then his Arcana raises.
“Your grace!” Duty’s general shouts from the crowd. Duty was enraged, and thought about the horrible ways in which to kill the man, when he realised it wasn’t criticism. It was a warning. A bolt of air smashed into Duty’s side, and he was knocked far to his left. The small boy looked at where the bolt of air had come from, and his eyes widened. He raced for the man. Duty got up, angry and furious, when he saw who was standing before him. Ultimali, and the child was hiding behind him. His hair was black, and long, adorned with bangles. He had two, large, red jewels hanging from his ears, and his robes were the finest material in Cazria, decorated with the most rare of jewels. Simply selling that robe would likely result in having enough Tix to buy a mansion! He was beautiful. Only his small petit goatee gave away that he was a male. “Duty, Son of Xelphan, Overlord of Metholi, Second in the Elric line.” Ultimali said, in a deep, mystical voice. “Why have you done this? What have you become?”
“You!” Duty roared, truly angry. “You killed my father!”
“Foolish talk.” Ultimali hissed. “You know not what you speak of.”
“Don't lie to me!” Duty roared.
“You’re but a child. Your father would be furious with your actions.” Ultimali said, sighing and shaking his head. “What a waste.”
“I don’t care!” He roared back at him. “THIS IS JUSTICE!”
“This is foolishness.” Ultimali retorted. “I will give you one chance. Preserve what little honour you have yet to take from the Elric name, and the Army of Metholi, and go home.” Duty stared at Ultimali for a while, and Ultimali did not break the gaze. His Aura was off the charts. How did he not notice Ultimali coming? Was he that insane?
“No.” Duty said. “I won’t feel better till you’re dead! I can’t go on till you’re dead!”
“Stop.” Ultimali said, eyes closed with disgust. “You look so much like him. I can’t bear to look at you like the wretch you are.” That last sentence was the last straw for Duty.
“YOU BASTARD!” He roared. “4th company, KILL HIM!” Nobody moved. “Are you all fools!?”
“You’ve taken enough from them.” Ultimali said.
“I'm ordering you! I'm your Overlord!” Duty screams. “5th, 6th,7th platoon! All of you! Kill him, NOW!” Nobody moved still. “If you want to live, go home to your families. Grieve for the lives you’ve taken. Repent for what you’ve done.” Ultimali said. “There’s still value to be had from your life.” Right now, to the Metholian Army, to each and every one of them, Ultimali sounded more like a Overlord than Duty ever could. Most of the company captains ordered their soldiers to turn and leave, and they did so. “Where are you going!?” Duty screamed. “COME BACK!” The soldiers did not turn back. However, not all of them left. The last platoon, 11th company, stood still. Their captain turned to them. “If any of you wish to leave, do so now.” The captain said. “You will likely not have another chance.” Those words made most of the men and women leave, turning their back on Duty and their captain. “Captain Rickol.” Ultimali said. “I had guessed that you’d have been the first to turn and leave, as you’ve been serving under Xelphan since the beginning of his reign as Overlord. Yet, here you are. Why?”
“Duty. You’re a fool.” Rickol said to Duty, making him bare his teeth. “But, you’re Xelphan’s son. I cannot turn my back and let you throw away your life in such a manner. I owe that much to Xelphan, for refusing to accompany him on his Journey to Dominion. But, this is wrong. You must know this. Ultimali would never kill Xelphan, you know that! You were there at the dining tables, when they had feasts! You grew up, witnessing their friendship! Please, I beg of you... reconsider this act of suicide. I’ll only ask once.” Rickol said.
“Consider carefully on Rickol’s words, Duty.” Ultimali said. “There will be no turning back once this battle starts.” But Duty was still angry at the criticism. He did not hear a word Rickol said, nor did he care. He cared only about himself, and what he wanted. “I AM YOUR OVERLORD!” He screams. “YOU WILL NOT INSULT ME! KILL HIM, NOW!” He orders Rickol, pointing his Arcana at Ultimali.
“Damn you, Duty.” Rickol hissed. “11th Company, attack!” He roared, charging at Ultimali. A sick smile made its way across Duty’s face. Ultimali shook his head, slowly. “Such a blind fool, you are, Rickol.” Ultimali whispered to himself, so quiet that nobody could hear, not even the child, still clutching to his leg. “But, I will not kill you. The world needs more fools.” Ultimali opened his eyes, and then disappeared, leaving the child clutching desperately to nothing but air. Rickol was way ahead of what was left of his company, and Ultimali had appeared behind him. Ultimali had backhanded the back of Rickol’s head with his right hand, sending him flying forwards, face first into the grass, unconscious. Ultimali also had his left arm outstretched, with his index and middle finger pointed at what was left of his company. A small spark appeared at the end of his fingers, and from that, furious, black flames erupted around the 11th company. Their screams were immediately drowned out, and the flames were scorching hot even from where the child was standing. Duty felt it too, but he didn’t care. The flames were doused at Ultimali’s command, and the bodies were visible only through ash and the Arcana that they had left behind. The wind blew the ashes from their corpses along the grass, where they got lost. Duty raced at Ultimali, intent on killing him. When he reached him, he swung his Arcana, but Ultimali simply batted it away with his hand. Again, Duty swung the Arcana, only for Ultimali to telekinetically grab one from the dead. He parried Duty’s blow with the Arcana, kicked him backwards, and then slashed his face, purposely hitting the Elric insignia above his eye. “You don’t deserve to be called an Elric.” He hissed. “Your father’s death was unfortunate. I wished my hand was not forced, but it was. That memory alone will not tell you the reason as to why I killed him, but his time was coming to an end anyway. My love for Xelphan was that I allowed him to achieve one final goal before his death. Then, what came next was necessary.”
“You’re a monster! I hate you!” Duty bellowed, like a child.
“You’ve turned yourself into a monster.” Ultimali retorted. “Look around. Look at what you’ve done, inhumanely slaughtering civilians as if they were cattle. I kill my enemies with the grace and honour they deserve, but you butcher them. You’re twisted.” Duty clenched his teeth, angry at the insults. His eyes were wide with rage. Ultimali turned towards his temple. “Go home.” He says. “The final favour out of my respect for your father. Go home and live, change your ways, and I’ll forgive this monstrosity.” But, again, Duty was not listening. As Ultimali walked away, Duty rose to his feet and charged at Ultimali from behind. Ultimali simply clicked his fingers, and out of nowhere, Duty exploded. He exploded into liquid, all of himself, his body, his clothes, his Arcana. It all exploded into a tsunami of blood and acid, covering everything within the area. As the rain of blood and acid landed on the ground and buildings around him, Ultimali closed his eyes and said “A fitting end for a monster. Rest in peace, all the same.” And with that, he retreated back to his Temple.
Zaxxarius was already falling into another Magic Pool by the time the memory had ended. He had remembered everything, the fury Duty had felt, the feeling of the Arcana cutting his face, how twisted he was when killing the citizens. Everything. But he didn’t feel anything from it, it was not like he had experienced it in first person. It was just a memory, tucked away behind layers of his own memories, beyond the reach of his morals. But, he did learn something from it. He felt like he knew how to actually use an Arcana now, though he only felt as if he could. He didn’t know if the techniques would actually appear out of thin air when he actually got to trying it out. Zaxxarius also felt odd about something else. He had assumed Ultimali was good, and that he did not kill Xelphan, but he practically admitted that he did right then and there. Then again, Ultimali was supposed to be a man of mystery. Was it for the greater good? Whatever the case, he landed in the next Aura. He hadn’t even noticed what it was on the way down. He got up, and looked around. He was inside a palace. He looked up at the sky... There was a roof. He had came through the roof without damaging it, like some glitch in a video game. He looked around the palace, then he realised, there were people gawping at him. “What a peculiar boy.” A woman behind him said. “Indeed, is this the jester?” A man said.