The Cultists

Badurad surveyed the group of cultists Still covered in blood he walked to his sword and picked it up. Then filled with rage he strode towards the group. "Why Why do you all think that you can beat someone who is on the floor? Why do you all think that you're better than anyone else? Why? Why do you putrid humans all insist that your better than anyone." Then out of nowhere a single tear rolled down his right cheek "Why have I had to fight my entire life for something that is handed to others on a silver platter." The mages then stood forward and started to levitate. The air glowed around them a rainbow of colours shining in front of him. Then a familiar word was shouted by them all "Haren."

Badurad blinked and braced himself for impending death and when it didn't hit bhe was surprised. He opened his eyes timidly. As he looked around he saw a familiar place. It was the same place where he had once stood. the empty sky where he stood. Before him he saw the same boy with white hair and red eyes. Although he was no longer crying he was smiling gently and had no malice. " Hello Badurad. About to die so soon and after you fought so hard to stay alive. Despite that It's still so good to finally have a chance to speak to you. I've been with you for most of your life and it feels weird that we haven't ever spoken. Well apart from the time you stared at me blankly for the best part of a minute." The boy closed his eyes and tilted his head like a doting parent. "Just who are you? and where am I? What's going on?" Shouted Badurad looked puzzled and confused. The boy's expression didn't change. "Well who I am isn't important and I doubt you would understand if I explained where we are and what's going on. So I'll only say that you are someone very dear to me and you can think of me as your partner. My power is probably greater than most knights and definitely all of these mages so use that power to help your own goals. As for my side of the deal I might drag you into this place every once in a while to speak. Does that sound good to you?" Badurad just stared at the boy; he couldn't move or comprehend the information he had been given. The boy's smile widened and Badurad fell backwards.

As he opened his eyes he was in front of the magicians and cultists. A blaze of magic fired towards him. Badurad had no time to react as the bolts of light progressed towards him until they were right in front of his eyes. The magic seemed to shuffle towards him as time stopped and he accepted the impending doom. ["Jeez you really are helpless."] Badurad was shoved to the side. He had the feeling of being removed from control. But his physical body did not move. He felt like a passenger in his own body. But before he could think his left hand moved despite the pain he raised it to infront of his face. It then erupted into a torrent of flames that blew away the spells like paper in a tornado. The flames were a dark red and burned brighter like any he had ever seen. Badurads body lurched forward through the flames. Badurad expected to be burnt but the flames allowed him to pass through like they were welcoming him. His body then jumped at the first mage and cut off his head swiftly. then with ruthless force he jumped of the still levitating corpse to the next one and then the next one. Dispatching each mage with fierce speed and brutal force. He jumped around with astounding strength and agility that no normal human should have. Leaping from mage to mage in a wave of blood spraying each and every person. After three minutes he had murdered fifteen mages as he fell to the ground standing on top of a pile of carcasses. He then walked down from the pile of bodies stepping from carcass to carcass. Approaching the remaining forces he stared into their trembling faces the shear terror and fear in their eyes was horrifying. Badurad could do nothing to stop the countless atrocities infront of him. he was glad that he wasn't going to die but the sensless murder that was being comitted before him was horrific.

Some of the cultists wielding knives stepped back and began to chant.

Before he could kill them a man in a black robe stood forward and drew a one bladed sword. He chuckled despite what he had just seen. They both charged at each other. Their blades crashed off of each other. After each swing they both backed off and charged at each other again and again with brutal force. Sparks flew across the battlefield. After about forty seconds the swords were both chipped but the cultists sword was thinner and lighter than Badurad's sword. Badurad brought his sword down on the man's head. He pulled his sword in front of his face to try to block but Badurad's sword shattered it like glass bringing it further down into his skull driving it down through his brain spurting out blood. He then ripped through the rest of the cultists armed with spears and bows.

The last ones standing were the cultists with knives they had finished chanting and a translucent aura. Expecting A volley of magical attacks. Badurad braced himself but instead the seven or so cultists disappeared. Badurad looked around frantically for any trace of the cultists. He turned around but they were nowhere to be seen. they had completely disappeared.