Hand and Spear

Zho and Oraesh waited at the center of the Hall of Progress for Aeschylus and the young liches, the ancient lich not lowering his towering stance as he looked down at them.

William was ready; it was strange that there was no apparent opponent in the wide space, though maybe there was nothing to worry about. Why would they make him fight something that could kill him, just after going through the trouble it was to bring him back?

"What was the cause of your delay, Amber?"

"I was presenting myself to the boy, Oraesh," spoke Aeschylus on his behalf. "I obviously wanted to see how well my work paid off. I'm still skilled after all these years. No one could have done it better, being honest with ourselves."

"You can brag about your own qualities later, Aeschylus. Let's not waste more time than the one you've already taken. Everyone, stay aside from the wide space. Amber, walk 20 meters in the other direction. You'll know when to start."

"Wait. What am I fighting? There's nothing here..."

"I said you'll know when to start," The tall man spat out impatience. "It's better if you get used to surprises. You won't always have the privilege of knowing what you'll face."

'You don't need to tell me that, Mr. Leader. I already know it', thought William to himself, remembering the ambush back on Sunian coasts.

He turned around and walked ahead with his spear on hand as he was told. Everyone walked in the contrary direction and stood at the edge of the ample space near the giant gate, looking like tiny figures from the other side of the hall.

Oraesh elegantly sauntered ahead as he raised his hands, green fume dazzling in them. A swirling purple portal appeared 20 meters ahead. From it, a warrior skeleton rose like a demon leaving hell.

Its bones were carbonized yellow, making it look like an ancient mummy. It didn't wear anything besides a mauled, blackened chainmail vest and skirt, a horned helmet above its shiny green eyes.

Holding a rusty, hexagonal shield with a skull carved at its center, and a curved sword of an oxidated brass blade, the creature first crawled, then tottered, and then rushed against William.

He gripped his spear, gulping his saliva as his phylactery heart buzzed at the incoming creature. There was no battle where he hadn't been scared, but focusing was what mattered the most. The supernatural creature rushed closer, triggering his survival instincts.

"Wahahaha!" laughed raspingly the skeletal warrior, having approached his defensive stance. His eyes were connected to the creature's eye cavities, which moved left and right with its shield up as it tried to get even closer.

"Try, you son of a…" whispered William, his two-meter-long spear pointing at the skeleton. BANG. He thrust, but his spear bounced off the shield with shooting sparks as the creature blocked his attack.

"Wagh!" the skeleton had superhuman speed; taking advantage of the single second his successful block granted it, it rushed ahead with its shield up and its rusty saber ready to slash.

But William saw it coming, feeling as if time had slowed down as the magical warrior exposed itself for a second as it raised its sword. Hoping to his right side, he swiped the fanged blade of his spear and blocked the cutting edge.

The warrior got stunned for half a second as its hand and saber bounced. William felt his hands swifter than a hawk; time slowed again, and with a precise thrust, he impacted the warrior's bone hands, its sword flying away.

And before it could react, William struck again. The tip of his spear impaled the creature right on its chest cavity, tackling it down and pushing it against the cracked floor.

Naturally —or unnaturally— there were no organs or critical points on the warrior to kill it, but the fight was already over. William approached with his spear still nailed against its ribs, the skeleton laughing again as it raised its disarmed hands in defeat.

William let it go, putting his spear back. Reality struck again, his feet weighty on the cold ground. What was that about? He had never felt so nimble in combat before.

The skeletal warrior had attacked with superhuman speed, and he had retaliated with the same grace. It was as if his senses had been enhanced. Was that one of the effects of being turned into a lich?

The skeleton got up, bowing once before William as a sign of respect, and turned around. A swirling portal twinkled on the dusty floor ahead, and it went back to whatever hell it came from.

Artur and Miris clapped, Oraesh telling them to stop. "Nothing impressive, but I expected worse from him. That was only a lower minion. Let's give him a tougher challenge."

Was it over? William didn't realize he was sweating. He cleaned his forehead, but another swirling portal blinked 15 meters in the distance.

Metallic, charred gauntlets raised from its magic steam, followed by a bulky, darkened figure looking taller than Oraesh and as double-wide as the skeletal warrior that he just defeated.

Huger than the previous skeleton, all of its bones except its skull were covered by a plate, hexagonal-pattered armor old and rusty, stained all over by carbon black as if it had burned for a long time.

With both immense hands, it held a two-meter-long war hammer looking like the lever of a siege trebuchet.

Adrenaline rushed again through William's body. He licked his lips as his phylactery heart vibrated on his open chest. That beast was a tank; how was he supposed to fight that? He gripped his spear harder and pointed it defensively.

"Guargh…" the skeletal tank rushed ahead, each of its cumbering steps making the hall's floor shake and its dust bounce.

William's eyes focused on the incoming gargantuan; feeling like a cat about to be run over by a warthog.

The giant raised its hammer as it rushed like a rhino, ready to crush to pureé his tiny, unprotected opponent. Getting closer, it arched back its weapon and slammed it against William's position.

But his senses reacted quicker as time slowed down again; he dashed away, evading the obliterating whack that crushed the creaked floor and splashed rocks away with a mini earthquake.

Then, he thrust his spear against the giant's heavy chest plate, but it bounced off like a tiny dart. It was as useless as trying to take down a wall with a broomstick.

The tank's hands were faster than its hammer, and it swiped a fist against William, smacking him away like a ragdoll.

"Wah!" he rolled on the floor before stopping a few meters away, splashing dust. His head spun, a buzzing noise ringing in his ears as he tried to recover. His adrenaline allowed him to get up; his arms were full of scratches and his forehead bled, but he was not defeated yet.

He noticed his spear laying down some meters ahead, and rushed towards it before the armored tank separated its hammer from the crushed ground.

But it had already done so; it rushed again against him, its hammer ready to pulverize his fragile body.

As William reached his weapon, the beast's war hammer was about to maul him. But his quick senses kicked again; he spotted the crushing weight about to plummet on him.

Without enough time, he thrust his spear up, deviating the hammer and making it bounce once before he managed to slide away.

The Warhammer smacked the ground again, softened by the spear strike. William cursed; his spear broke in two, only holding the lower part.

"Groagh!" growled the tank as it struggled. Its hammer got stuck against the crater it left on the floor.

Getting up, William sprinted to the skeleton, where the upper half of his spear fell. Grabbing it, he jumped at the head of the hammer, catching the monster by surprise. He then hopped against its chest, climbing through its armor and reaching its neck.

He stabbed its right eye cavity with the blade of his broken spear and jumped away.

"Ragh!" shrieked the tank, leaving its hammer on the ground as it grabbed its face and twitched.

William looked at both sides, seeking whatever options he still had. Using the lower half of the spear? It was nowhere near as sharp as the blade, and his opponent wouldn't likely fall for that twice.

The tank growled, tottering clumsily as it tried to reach its war hammer, but an imperative voice made it halt its way.

"Stop!" ordered Oraesh.

The tall man approached their position, everyone else by his side. The combat was over. William's adrenaline dissipated. He kneeled on the ground, panting as his lungs fought for air. His whole body was sore and tired as if he had run 20 kilometers non-stop.

The skeletal tank put apart the blade on its eye cavity. It calmly sauntered to its hammer and put it off the smacked ground. It then walked to Oraesh's position and stood by his side like the most disciplined guard.

"Are you alright? Look at how they hurt you…" Miris kneeled next to William, putting her soft and warm hands on his shoulder.

Artur laughed in joy. "Will! What the hell were you thinking? that was crazy yet it somehow worked! I almost thought you were done for. See, Mr. Oraesh? I said bringing him here wasn't an error!"

"That didn't work," interrupted Oraesh Khugazid. "My warrior would have crushed all your bones with nothing you could do after that, Amber. I just wanted to test how far you would go."

"You…" William gasped for air. "You were planning to kill me?"

"You are already dead, don't you remember?" he cynically raised one lip. "I must say that you surpassed my expectations, but that barely means anything. Next time won't be as easy. Take care of his wounds and give him rest. Inform me of anything unusual."

He turned around, head-nodding at Aeschylus and Zho to follow him. The three older men walked away, heading towards the armored gate.

That was it? Oraesh halted for a bit, giving one last order before continuing.

"Not you, Asgard. You stay here with the skeletons and clean this mess."

"M-me?" Artur rolled his eyes and sighed, but his question was ignored. The three men continued ahead. "Dang it. I'll be busy 'round here for a few hours. He's up to you, Miris. Give our little swallow something fresh to drink. Nice work again, Will! I always knew you were destined to be with us."

"C'mon," Miris kindly helped William get up. "Let's go back to your room. You need to rest. I'll take care of your wounds."

"Thanks, Miris..."

The Oksidi girl helped him get up and walk, but eventually, his legs could go on again. A cluster of emotions ran through him. What was that test for, exactly? Maybe they'd have more to say once he rested and recovered.

For a part, he felt bitter. Even if his senses and speed had now improved —which made him satisfyingly confident— he couldn't help but admit that he was not really at the level of that skeletal tank.

Were they trying to kill him? Things could have gone wrong at any moment, but Oraesh interrupted the fight when he ran out of options. It was odd.

Despite his exhaustion and the wounds on his body, he couldn't help but feel pleased with his results.

It was nice to know he could still defend himself, his improved condition being the cherry at the top of the cake.

Maybe being a lich wasn't that bad…