Battle at the Ridge (3/3)

When Haalfrin jumps through the enemy's wall of fire, the 3 mages look at him with shocked expressions. His decision was utterly inconceivable to them.

Of course, this wall of fire would stop most people, since that fire is enough to kill a normal person or seriously maim a mage like Haalfrin.

However, what the young mage doesn't account for is Haalfrin's reckless lack of regard for his own life.

Haalfrin crosses one arm over his face to protect his eyes, shuts his mouth, holds his breath to prevent his lungs from being burnt, and jumps straight through the wall – taking the damage directly.

Even after crossing the fire, he's still able to move – albeit barely, with his broken skin and cooking muscles. The second he stumbles through the fire, he puts all his reinforcement magic in his left arm, and with a loud whoosh, his sword cleaves through the air…

…And the golden-haired healer's head rolls down the hill, and her body crumples to the ground.

Too bad. The sorceress thought the wall of fire was going to protect her, so she was in the middle of casting another spell.

The older sword mage screams in fury and charges after Haalfrin, and the old man's apprentice parts the wall of fire to let his master through. Seeing the murderous rage in the old sword mage's face, Haalfrin guesses the two of them had been close comrades.

Haalfrin is so damaged by the fire wall that he really does look like he's about to drop dead. He's so horribly burnt that his skin is peeling, and parts of his armor are melted onto his skin. One of his eyelids wasn't properly covered by his arm, and it's seared shut now.

With his bones creaking and the horrible pain all over his body, Haalfrin really doesn't want to move… but he's just going to have to do it anyway.

Wanting to make the least amount of movement possible, Haalfrin doesn't even turn his head to look at the other attackers; he just rotates his remaining good eye and sees the old sword mage leaping at him with an overhead slash – aiming straight for Haalfrin's head.

Haalfrin's legs are the most damaged part of his body, and he knows he's not fast enough anymore to jump out of the way.

So, he turns around and tries catching the man's blade by the handle and stopping his arm from swinging down all the way. However, with one of his eyes out of commission, he has no more depth perception.

Hence, Haalfrin miscalculates the distance of the old man's sword, and he ends up catching the sword on the blade instead of the hilt…

… At least Haalfrin catches it at the base of the blade near the hilt, where the cutting momentum is at its weakest.

Haalfrin's unenchanted gauntlet is no help either, but at least he had put all his reinforcement spell in his arms (else he wouldn't even be able to move it to block).

So, when the sword mage's blade cuts through Haalfrin's hand, it doesn't cleave all the way through his arm… Instead, it only stops halfway down the elbow, with the cut going straight down the middle between his 2 forearm bones.

With the old man's sword lodged in Haalrin's arm, it's immobilized for a moment. Haalfrin takes this opportunity by twisting his waist and lunging forward with his other arm – jabbing the edge of his broken sword straight through the gap in the old man's armor at the armpit – right through the old man's lung.

He would've pierced the heart too, but the sword mage has a protected mana shield over his heart. The small the shield is, the stronger it is. This is why most mages tend to place mana shields over their vitals, since protecting your entire body would drain you of mana in a few minutes.

Even still, Haalfrin's hard blow knocks the mage off his feet. The old man was still holding onto his sword, which was still stuck in Haalfrin's arm. As a result, there's a sickening crunch as Haalfrin's 2 forearm bones are twisted to the side by the pivoting blade between them.

"AAAH!!" Haalfrin screams in part rage and part pain. Before the sword mage can get up, Haalfrin moves his Reinforcement spell to his legs. Because of the old man's punctured lung, he's unable to get up as quickly as Haalfrin.

Thus, when Haalfrin leaps up slightly faster than his opponent, he kicks the sword mage's armpit as hard as he can.

Haalfrin's broken sword is still stuck in the old man's side, so his kick hits the pommel, driving it deeper into the man's body in a way resembling a hammer striking a nail.

This force is barely enough to push the blade deep enough to finally pierce the sword mage's heart. With a silent gasp, the old man breathes his last.

Since Haalfrin can hardly carry his own weight due to his burns when he threw himself forward to kill the sword mage, he had loses his balance and fell on his charred knees – screaming out in pain as he lands – not even noticing the old man drop to the ground.

Haalfrin's full attention is now on the single young boy, who's in the middle of charging up a huge ball of lightning above his head - his staff crackling with energy.

Judging by the boy's face, he must've given in to Haalfrin's aura of death - something the other two mages were brave enough to resist.

In a desperate attempt to survive, the boy is throwing everything he has at the enemy before him.

… If the boy had been thinking straight, he'd have used Haalfrin's lack of mobility to keep some distance and pepper him with smaller attacks – the kind Haalfrin can't dodge anymore.

Still, the boy is relatively far away, and he knows he won't be able to get close enough to the boy to stop him before he finishes his destruction spell… and if that thunderbolt hits him, he'd die immediately - not that Haalfrin would mind.

However, in the rush of adrenaline, Haalfrin wants to fight with everything he has. Haalfrin looks at the charging spell. He times it just right… and he throws his sword in the boy's direction just before the spell sets off.

The sword flies through the air, and it sticks itself in the ground. Haalfrin meant to stab the kid with his weapon, but some god of luck must be looking after him right now because his sword lands in just the perfect position to save him.

The lighting then shoots in Haalfrin's direction… but with his sword acting as a lightning rod – being metal and grounded in the earth – the thunderbolt strikes the sword instead of Haalfrin, and it fizzles out harmlessly into the soil.

The boy stands there for a moment, dumbstruck… Judging by the exhausted face on the boy, and the lack of presence he has now, Haalfrin guesses the boy ran out of mana.

Seeing that the boy can't fight back anymore, Haalfrin looks at the lad with pity and asks, "This is your first battle?"

The boy slumps on the ground – confirming Haalfrin's guess.

"You're done, boy," Haalfrin croaks out, "Put your staff down before I kill you." Haalfrin wouldn't feel right about killing a boy who wasn't fighting back anymore. That's not a battle; that's murder.

… And murder's only OK when you have something to gain from it, right? What's the point in killing a soldier who has put down their weapon?

After seeing the crazy demon who doesn't even care for his own life, the boy pisses himself and flees.

When the battle is over, Haalfrin takes a quick glance around and notices that he and the defeated bodyguards had been running about just enough to be out of view of the general's tent. The general must be getting pretty antsy, knowing he has no protection with him at the moment.

Haalfrin looks just over the hill at the flag atop the general's tent and thinks, "He's just up there – barely out of sight. I'm so close… and he has no more protection with him…"

Seeing the long climb back up, Haalfrin struggles to stay on his feet as he feels his strength fail him. "I just want to lie down and sleep," he thinks to himself. "I know that if I lose consciousness now, I'll never wake up."

He looks down on his burn wounds; they look like the most serious injury to his body… but it's actually the cut that almost went straight through his arm; it must have grazed an artery or something because he's losing a LOT of blood there; the only thing stemming the blood loss is the cloth he'd bound tightly around his elbow to cut off circulation.

Haalfrin finally can't stand anymore, and he plops on the ground. He cries out in pain again upon landing on his scorched knees.

Once the immediate pain fades for a moment, Haalfrin looks down and smiles thinking about his life.

"I did it," Haalfrin mumbles in satisfaction, "I fought an interesting fight, and I'll honorably die in battle here."

Haalfrin feels his spirit start to drift away from his body as he slowly releases his last breath… when he feels a presence appear in his mind, and he hears a familiar voice echo in his skull.

"Are you really so sure you want to just lie down and die here?" Das queries telepathically, "I thought you said you were going to take the general's head?"

Haalfrin only smiles at this and says, "Well, the number one goal was to die in battle. I've accomplished that."

Das replies calmly, "What about the soldiers you've trained recently? If you give up on your life now, you'll fail the people who are depending on you."

"I, an inexperienced mage, fought against a troupe of veteran mages, took them down bravely, and perished from my wounds. My death is honorable. Both my clanmates on the other side and the children on this side won't blame me for anything. I have nothing to disappoint them with."

"You'll disappoint yourself," comes Das's stern reply. The old god sounds like a disappointed dad when he talks like that. "Are you the type to just give up after not trying your hardest?"

"Stop trying to persuade me!" Haalfrin bites back, "I know what you want! You just want me to die of old age so you can claim my soul!"

Indeed. Haalfrin's not stupid enough to be unaware of what's going on with those 2 Death gods. Never in his life has he ever seen a Death Reaper care about which souls they take… So why would they care about HIS soul? There must be something the two of them want from him.

Das pauses a moment, then replies, "The high-ranking mages and generals all carry potent healing elixirs. If you can get up and nab them off the two mages you've defeated, you can mostly heal yourself. You might even be able to defeat the general…"

"No!" Haalfrin thinks back to Das rebelliously, "You'll never have my soul! I've won!"

"Are you a dead fish?" comes Das's deadpan reply.

"What?"

"A warrior who gives up halfway through when there's a chance at victory isn't a man worth fighting beside. They're merely a dead fish."

Haalfrin can almost imagine Das shaking his head condescendingly as he quoted his own words against him.

Das then continues with pity in his voice, "I know your soul very well - better than you know yourself, at least. Every one of your 7 Names points to one Truth. You are the paragon of a good warrior… even if you don't realize it yet."

"You never leave your comrades behind," Das goes on, "and you let nothing get in the way of doing your job. When you were a guard in your youth, you'd often go against your master's orders, since keeping everyone safe is your job, not obeying a single person. After becoming a raider, you let nothing stand in the way of keeping your brothers safe. After becoming a soldier, you did whatever it took to win the battle…."

Haalfrin hears Das's voice soften up. "Child," the old god says, "giving up pathetically like this... it's not who you are."

Das's mind begins to withdraw, but he leaves a parting remark for Haalfrin. "I can't interfere in your choice right now... but a friendly reminder. A mage derives his magic from his soul, and the soul is the essence of who you are. If you betray your own soul heart like this, you'll never be anything more than a 1st Gate mage. You'll be doomed to mediocrity for all eternity in the Death Realm…"

With that, Haalfrin is left alone in the field with only the dead for company.