"So many Wraiths...." Royce froze atop his steed, stunned.
Even during the subjugation of Sobek, we never encountered this many. Axer snarled. There are nearly a hundred of them.
Wraiths formed from the spirits of humans. For a Wraith to form, they either had to have a desire so strong their souls couldn't pass on peacefully to the afterlife or the souls of multiple humans with lower desires combined– usually ten humans, sometimes twenty for the strongest Wraiths.
Each Wraith had the battle prowess of an elite knight thanks to their speed, strength, and ability to frequently become ethereal for very short amounts of time. Of course, Axer's Lunar Knights were the crème of the crop, far above elite knights.
But why aren't they moving?
The Wraiths simply floated in place, their ethereal hoods covering their head and wispy, skeletal-shaped hands limp by their sides. The coherent screams of words had long since died off, replaced by eerie moaning as if suffering from nightmares.
It was unusual for Wraiths to act like this, as they tended to violently attack anything living. Their frozen, floating appearances but eerie moans almost looked like...they were awaiting orders?
"Welcome, Lunar Knights."
A soft, pleasant-to-the-ears voice boomed across the valley, echoing off the mountain walls. The Wraith's eerie moans ceased, and they fixed their crooked appearances, their menacing eyes locked upon Axer and his knights. And then, the sky moved.
Dark tendrils emanating blood-red energy broke out in the sky like the roots of a tree. They surrounded a black oval-shaped pool of darkness, far darker than anything Axer had ever seen before. It pulsed once, then twice, then again and again with growing speed like a rapidly beating heart. Then, something stepped out.
It wore a black robe, exposed at the chest to reveal a star engraved onto its muscular, ashen-white chest. Its arms and legs were lanky but toned with visible muscle as if nothing more than skin, muscles, and bones. Yet its hands didn't seem bony but sharp and ferocious, proportioned like miniature blades. Like Axer, it had long, upper-back-length hair tied in a ponytail. But its face truly marked him as the leader of the horrific Wraiths.
His blood-red pupils scanned the knights below with a smile full of apathy and boredom. He was beautiful in a sickly, terrifying way that seemed to pull anything into its grasp. He held a terrifying, quadruple-pronged scythe that screamed like the Wraiths, but instead of screams of mercy, it screamed for death.
"I've been waiting, Axer Vasilios." He smiled, emanating the scent of fresh blood so palpable it suffocated the air.
"So it was you who attacked Braedon Town." Axer narrowed his eyes dangerously. "The Disciples..."
"...are my disciples." He smiled. "One cannot be a disciple without a master, after all. I am the one fulfilling that role of master."
"Why are we still talking to this demon? Let's attack and grind him to paste!" Dunstan roared like a mad beast, his bloodshot eyes begging Axer to give the command.
Patience, Dunstan. Your desire for vengeance will be fulfilled. Axer conveyed with his eyes. He turned back to the man – if he could be called one – suppressing his rage.
"You're the one in control of these Wraiths?"
"Only through great effort could I create these wondrously powerful beings."
"How many innocents had to die for their creation?" Axer sneered as his steed took soft strides forward.
"Innocents? I only purged this world of sinners." The man's eyes gracefully twisted his free hand in the air.
YOU ARE READING
Moon Glaive
RomanceRumor had it that a monster roamed the Virgamau Mountain Range. From mercenaries to merchants, all spoke of the anguished scream that plagued the night. But no matter where anyone searched, it couldn't be found. That was until Indu Ambrose set off...
