Tark spun through the air as he raced toward the ground. He growled in anger. He waved his hand, and a gigantic wave of metal caught him and Isabella, gently bringing them down to the ground. Isabella lay motionless. With a single glance, Tark realized that his longtime friend had already taken her last breath.
Tark felt something inside him break. He roared in rage. He looked around, searching for the murderer of his friend. Nero hovered high above him, his wings beating slowly. To Tark, it felt as if those eyes were looking straight into his soul, as Nero did nothing but watch him.
Tark slammed his hands together, pulled them to his chest, and then thrust them forward with force. A gigantic spear of metal shot out of the ground, straight toward Nero. It was incredibly fast, yet Nero managed to dodge to the side with ease. He swung his hand wide. A dark tentacle shot from his back toward Tark, who was already preparing his next attack. Liquid metal surged toward the tentacle, enclosing it.
Nero pulled on the darkness, which snapped back to him. He traced a large arc with his fingertips, from which darkness flowed. He created an extremely thin disc, spun it, and then hurled it at Tark. Immediately afterward, he drew his palms inward, twisted them slightly, and spread his fingers.
He pointed at Tark. Shadows shot toward him from all directions. Tark tried to block Nero's dark disc with a wall of metal, but it cut straight through. He struck the air, and a hammer of metal formed from the stream of liquid metal, crashing against the disc. Then he spun once around himself. He encased himself in a cocoon of metal that shielded him from the incoming shadows.
Nero flew toward the cocoon. He swung his hand, preparing another attack, when the metal shell exploded violently. The shadows were pushed away, and Nero was forced to defend himself.
He looked at Tark, who had created dozens of metal walls circling around him, forming more and more without pause. Metal magic was strongest in defense, Nero knew that. That was why he had to rely on the small shadow arrow, otherwise he would not break through so easily. He glanced at his arm, which already showed many cracks reaching up toward his elbow.
He raised both arms. Dozens of dark tentacles shot out of him, straight toward Tark, who commanded the metal shields to defend him. The shadows struck the metal with force, yet it actually held. Darkness crept up behind Tark. A chill ran down his spine as he spun around. More metal shields protected him, yet deep cracks were already running along his arm as well.
Nero was not surprised that Fril had struggled with Tark. He was not as powerful as General Gerald from Scur, much less Luis, but he was by no means a weak opponent. A few years ago, Nero would have had no chance against Tark, but much had changed. He was more powerful than ever before, and far more experienced. From beginning to end, he had the fight completely under control. He had killed Isabella first because he feared that one of them might focus on Eleanor. In this fight, Eleanor would have had no chance.
And now he was probing Tark for a weakness, an opening that would allow him to finally defeat him. He did not want to exhaust all of his magic, as he always had to consider the possibility that reinforcements might arrive. According to Fril, that was unlikely, since he had killed the rest of the group and given them no time to call for help, but Nero knew too little about this world to be one hundred percent certain.
Now he had to end the fight. He raised his arms for the final attack. He landed on the ground, not far from Eleanor. Slowly, he walked toward Tark, who was too focused on defending himself from all sides to attack Nero. Nero waved his hand. The shadows dissolved, leaving Tark behind, breathing heavily. He looked up at Nero. He was too exhausted to launch an attack, so he simply stared at him with hatred. He knew he would die here. He knew no one would come to save him.
"Who are you?" Tark asked, gasping for breath. "I have never heard of a human who can use such magic. And at this level..."
Nero did not answer. Instead, he simply struck. A long black spear formed in his hand. He took a step back. Tark raised both hands. He sensed that this would be a powerful attack. The shields formed in a row in front of him. Nero stepped forward and hurled the spear, which shot toward Tark at enormous speed. Tark braced for the impact, but too late, he realized something was wrong. The spear struck the first metal shield, but instead of colliding like a solid object, it burst apart into darkness, like a strong wind against a sturdy wall.
Tark spun around, but it was not behind him either. With a frown, he turned back toward Nero, who simply stood there. Then, suddenly, the metal shields exploded as darkness burst out from within them. Tark's eyes widened in shock as he tried to force the material of the shields back together, but dark tentacles pushed the pieces apart. Like a plague, it spread through all the shields, destroying them one after another.
Tark abandoned the shields at once. They fell helplessly to the ground. He raised his hand, and a new wall formed; then he began creating new shields. But before he could form the second one, he felt a sharp pain. He looked down and saw a long shadow cast through his chest. He turned around and saw Nero standing behind him. "What?"
He looked forward, and Nero was there as well, unmoving, simply staring at him. Then that image dissolved into pure darkness and vanished.
How had he not sensed the attack?
He had trusted his instincts completely, which had never failed him before. He had managed to sense every attack from Nero, as they all carried a strong aura, but this time, he had only noticed it when it was already too late.
"How?" he forced out, but Nero did not reveal how his tricks worked. Only Eleanor knew the secret. Nero had far greater control over his aura than normal mages seemed to have.
For Xersies, Ester, or Ramor, their aura was like a massive river, and they used magic by taking small buckets from that river, without truly controlling the flow itself.
Eleanor's magic revolved around understanding and manipulating those flows, yet even he could only draw from it in portions. Nero's magic, on the other hand, seemed to be the river itself. He had compressed that seemingly uncontrollable aura and hidden it within a single point in his body.
He left only a small portion outside, like a kind of clone of himself, something he had learned from Xersies. After his last surge in power, Nero had realized that his magic went far deeper than merely controlling darkness. But this "clone" had only scratched the surface. It was not like Xersies, who could already create clones that carried parts of his power. Nero's was merely a shell. If Tark had looked for even a second longer, he would have noticed it immediately. That was why Nero had distracted him by destroying his shields.
Once he had moved behind him unnoticed, he pierced him with a spear of darkness, using only enough magic to break through his silver-like body. Because of that, Eleanor had sensed the aura of the attack too late.
He looked down at Tark's now lifeless body. Eleanor came running toward him through broken bushes. In his hand, he carried a shoulder bag.
He threw it to Nero, who caught it skillfully. He briefly looked inside and saw Fril's severed arm lying within. He nodded in satisfaction. Then he searched Tark's coat. There he found a small pouch filled with gold and dark blue coins. Some bore a half moon, others a radiant sun. There were about fourteen moon coins and thirty sun coins, which was a small fortune in the local currency, as he knew from Fril.
He pocketed the pouch. Then he looked at Eleanor. "Good, let us withdraw for now. We will heal, hide Fril's arm, and then take a look at this Tissling I have heard so much about." With those words, he turned around and walked back the way they had come, dragging Tark's corpse behind him.