[The creaking of an old wagon fractured the quiet night atmosphere]
[The hauling of goods and muffled chatter emanates from within the trees]
"You got everything hauled up there?" The coachman said.
"Yeah, should be good boss, all the cargos been secured."
The light taps of a hand smack against the wagon's side, prompting the coachman to begin traveling.
"Keep a lookout for any militia, men. Have one guard on all sides while we travel." Ordered the coachman
The men were all adorned with a black coat surrounding the wagon. Each of the coats wearing an emblem, a red flame.
"We need to keep under the radar. Once we make it back to home base, we can relax a little."
The forest was dark and hazy. A cool mist lined the edges of the trail, only illuminated by the soft spark of a dying torch. It was cold, the weather in Bahamik drastically changing from day to night, and being so far outside town, artificial heating wasn't an option. Each footstep of the cloaked soldier crunched in the eerily silent forest. Only the sound of crows and massive owls can be heard amongst the fawn.
*Crunch*
The loud snapping of a tree branch shattered the quiet peace of the forest.
"Halt!" The coachman said, raising his hand to signify caution.
Nobody should be out this far, it's been at least 30 minutes since they left the trading outpost of Western Vanitinova, so for all they know, they should be alone. The worst worry is wild beasts who attack wagons at night, but with this many guards hiding in the shadows, no low-level monster would ever stand a chance.
"Somebody check the road ahead. Now." Barked the coachman, hoping to prove paranoid and not anything dangerous.
"Yes, sir." One of the shadows said, launching out from a nearby bush and running up ahead of the road.
After scanning the surroundings, scouring for anything that might hint at a small rodent or large herbivore that might have caused the disturbance. Nothing. No sign of anything anywhere ahead of them. With a wave of his hand, the cloaked man looks back at the wagon, showing them that nothing was up here and that they should check behind the wagon instead.
"We're good here-"
*Slice*
~
*Plop*
The cloaked figure's head now rolls gracefully on the floor, his waving body still standing upright as though nothing had happened.
A clean sever.
The onlookers from the wagon are frozen. They know this is a code black situation, but they are too scared to move. For them, this is the worst-case scenario.
With a thud, the body of the decapitated man falls to the ground, blood soaking into the soil around him.
A casualty.
A look of horror is now stretched across the coachman's face. But it quickly turns to anger.
"Get the attacker!"
Step* Step* Step*
[The fog becomes thicker around the trail]
A cloaked figure wrapped in gray walks out from within the mist-shrouded woods. Each step vibrating throughout the quiet darkness. Only the lights of the dim lanterns could make out the figure. Along with the gray coat adorned on this mystery attacker, are two glowing eyes.
One of not just hate, but sorrow.
Bright and orange.
The eyes of a predator in mourning.
With a leap from the bushes, five men adorned with the same black coats begin to draw their weapons. With a twist of Egan's body, he spins Thaerin's coat around him, throwing the soil in all directions. Using the soil as cover, he hops back from the onslaught, gaining distance and time.
[The whirling of fire b-lines towards Egan]
Out of the corner of his vision, a small fireball whizzes by him, just narrowly missing its mark. As his hood gets blown off by the passing fireball, many more follow. With a dash, he runs past them all, narrowly dodging each one of the homing mini missiles, circling the front-line attackers. With a wide swing, her carves clean the leg of one of the cloaked men, a scream shortly following. After one of the cloaked figures goes to strike him with a massive greatsword, Egan narrowly blocks it, launching him back further towards the wagon.
[The charging of essence is blaring from behind]
As Egan turns to face the direction of the previous onslaught, more fireballs come hurdling his way, surrounding him. At the same time, the frontline attackers begin their counterattack, all lunging in from behind, weapons drawn.
'That's it?'
With a charge of his new blade, it engulfs in flame.
Now wreathed in fire, he swipes the incoming onslaught, a massive shockwave echoing out from the colliding essence. With a quick leap over the explosion, the frontline attackers are hit with the brunt of their own party's attack. As Egan flies through the air, he spots the mage casting the fireballs, a tome in his hand. His eyes become pinpoint, indicating his new prey. Before the mage could react with more spells, Egan launches himself from the ground straight into the mage, piercing his sternum. A moment later, his prey begins to erupt into flames, incinerating him.
Now towering over the defenseless wagon, Egan looks over his shoulder, his glowing, fierce eyes now focused on the coachman, who is now trembling with fear. The coachman's eyes were screaming for mercy, but he shall receive none. Before Egan can grab him, a large transparent black claw reaches from beyond the mist.
Grabbing Egan and slamming him into the ground next to the cart.
[A ringing envelops Egan's senses]
The shock from the sudden impact disoriented him. This new creature was beyond any of what Egan had faced so far. Its long black claws still wrapped around his body. Soon after, taking him and throwing him through a couple of trees to the right of the wagon. He finally made landfall after hitting a large rock. His soul may be that of a supreme being, but his body isn't used to the force it exerts yet.
His body lay splattered on the rock he had collided with.
Blood is now wrapping his landing zone.
It's hot.
Each one of his limbs detached.
His surroundings are now adorned in the same color as the hair upon his head.
"Did… I- *cough* do… it?" Croaked the barely alive cloaked frontliner, a large black arm reaching out from his back.
He looks out at the rock he through Egan at, his guts now strewn the boulder, painting a most beautiful piece of art.
"I… I… Did…"
The cracking of bones ruptures the frontliner's body, his skinny, long frame being crushed under the weight of a new being. A terrifying wail bellows from the man being ripped apart from the inside. It was pure agony. Another arm slowly reaching out from his broken back. Shortly following, a head, one covered by a cloth wrapped by a loose chain. Then came its torso, long and full of holes, its back skewered with all sorts of weaponry.
The frontliner sacrificed his soul to this thing.
The only price for a trade like that is death.
A suicide bomb.
[A light hiss sizzles from the rock Egan was splattered on]
"So… Your life to summon… A strong spirit, aye?"
'What a... poor imitation- of flow.'
The cracking of bones begin to radiate throughout the dark forest once again. The sloshing of muscle tissue forming the body. The wrapping of veins folding through each intricate layer of fiber. The skin, now molding along the figure as divine horns begin to glow from his forehead. Cracks begins enveloping his cheeks, those that mark him that he is indeed a dragon.
Egan rises from the rock, a warm steam enveloping him. A hot flame begins to radiate from his being, a glow illuminating the once-dark woods.
He had reconstructed his body from the remnants of his being.
The curse of a phoenix.
[The air is getting warmer around his body]
Towering before him, the summoned spirit gazes down. It's cloth covering its sunken eyes from view.
'What a foolish endeavor.'
Egan held up his elegant blade.
Resonating.
A glow once again envelops his body, shrouding it in a divine flame. It began to wrap Skyrend in its glow, the blade consuming it in its entirety. The spirit dashes for the young dragon, disgusting claws bared. Quickly and silently, Egan raises his blade and brings it down, a wave of condensed fire slicing through the spirit in one clean strike.
Not a single noise made, just the echo of silence as the spirit begins to fade into essence once again.
The ground marking where the strike was delivered. A line now dug deep into the earth and towards the wagon, which was now split in two.
He looks back at the blood scattered across the rock. It's slowly burning away.
'I need to learn to enhance my body'
Relying on his talents all the time can put him at a disadvantage against really strong opponents. For raw speed and strength cannot overcome every challenge.
'That spirit was at least at the level of an 'Emberborn' Egan thought
The level of the spirit's soul was low, but its concentration of essence was immense due to the caster sacrificing his life for its creation. Too bad that the caster's soul was nothing special.
He steps closer to the man in the wagon, who is now trembling, tears flowing from his eyes.
Egan's shadow towering over him, the eyes of a hungry predator staring down at its feeble prey. Eyes screaming with hate.
"W-Wait! I-I have… Money! You want money? I can make you a very rich man!"
Egan, disgusted by his offer to barter, begins to reach down towards the trembling coward.
"S-Stop… You won't get away-"
With Egan now grabbing onto his face, he slowly lifts him, his body dangling from his hand.
The prey begins to squirm in its predator's hand, clawing at it to get away.
Lucky for him, the mission wasn't mindless bloodshed. So, with a quick snap, he paralyzed the man from the waist down, dropping him to the floor.
With victory comes the spoils of war. So, Egan, faithful to his mission, begins to rummage through the remaining cargo. Nothing but fruit and vegetables.
Except, under the floorboard of the left side part of the wagon, something shiny began to glow.
'Found you!'
Egan, excited and tired after regenerating his entire body, rips open the wagon. He begins to rummage through the interior of the wagon, which was filled to the brim with collars. But upon closer inspection, they emitted a faint essence. It was a catalyst for something. All of them were.
Egan looks back at the man, who was still lying on the floor, paralyzed. A horrible look of hate and disdain washed over his face.
Egan, with a smirk and a joyful exposition, now stares over him, lightning painting the pitch black sky.
"Looks like we're going to have a lot to discuss!"
"Aren't we?"