The Life After Death

  Chapter 12: The Divide Part 2

  Arrows rained down from above, striking the ground with deadly precision. Brannick reacted instantly, slamming his foot into the ground and raising a protective wall of stone around the carriage.

  "Terra Muris, hostem arceat! Stonewall!"

  The rocky barrier shielded us from the worst of the barrage, absorbing the brunt of the arrows with a resounding thud. However, a few found their mark against its edges, sending splinters of stone flying and leaving shallow dents in the side of the carriage. I glanced at Brannick, noting the sweat dripping down his temple and the faint tremor in his hands.

  He was pushing himself hard, too hard. Fixing the road earlier must have drained more of his mana than he wanted to admit, and now he was struggling to hold this defense together. The strain was evident in every heavy breath he took as he maintained the barrier.

  “You holding up, Brannick?” Raiden called out.

  Brannick grunted, his voice strained but steady. “I’ve got it... barely. But if you’re expecting miracles, you might want to start praying.”

  Raiden chuckled darkly, “You’ve already done more than enough. Just hold a little longer.”

  Brannick gave a short nod, the determination in his eyes outweighing the weariness in his body. “I’ll hold. Don’t worry about me; just make sure you keep the others off my back.”

  Raiden and Kaelith moved in unison, their fire magic flaring to life in a coordinated dance of precision and power.

  Kaelith moved swiftly, her green eyes focused and unyielding as she pulled her bowstring back. Flames erupted along the shaft of her arrows, illuminating her sharp features as she released shot after shot. One arrow found its mark in the chest of a bandit perched above, the force of the strike sending him tumbling from his vantage point. Another arrow grazed Kaelor himself, passing so close to his head that the flames licked his cheek; but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he stood still, his lips curling into a smirk as if taunting her for missing.

  Raiden, meanwhile, surged forward with his sword in one hand and flames erupting from the other. With a sharp thrust of his left hand, bursts of fire shot out, forcing the bandits to scatter as he advanced. Two bandits rushed him from either side. Raiden’s sword deflected the first strike with a metallic clash, while his free hand sent a concentrated blast of fire into the chest of the second bandit, forcing him to stumble back.

  Without hesitation, Raiden spun, the edge of his blade cutting through the first bandit’s arm, leaving him howling in pain before collapsing.

  Raiden pressed forward imbuing his blade with mana, his magic igniting the blade of his sword as three more bandits closed in. The steel glowed red-hot, flames dancing along its edge.

  With a wide, sweeping arc’ Raiden shouted, "Fynar Darta, vulkan mortis! Pyrostrike!"

  He unleashed a wave of flaming projectiles that engulfed the trio. One bandit screamed as the flames consumed him, his form collapsing in a smoldering heap, while the other two fell back, their charred weapons clattering to the ground. Raiden advanced to Kaelor with an unrelenting force, his attacks a perfect blend of calculated precision and devastating power.

  The horses reared, their panicked cries filling the air as the carriage rocked dangerously. Brannick planted himself near the carriage, his massive shield-like axe raised defensively. Two bandits charged at him, their weapons glinting in the flickering light of fire and chaos.

  Brannick blocked the first strike with the flat of his shield-axe, the force of the blow reverberating through his arms. With a roar, he swung upward, catching one bandit’s weapon and disarming him before slamming the shield into his chest, sending the man sprawling backward.

  “You think you can take me?” Brannick growled, his voice a mix of defiance and exhaustion. He stepped forward, swinging the shield-axe in a wide arc to force the second bandit back. “Come on, then! Let’s see what you’ve got!”

  But fatigue weighed heavily on him. His movements, though powerful, were slowing. The second bandit feinted to the left and landed a shallow slash across Brannick’s arm. Gritting his teeth, Brannick parried another attack, but his stance faltered, leaving an opening for the two bandits to press their advantage.

  Mira appeared like a shadow gliding through the chaos. Her daggers flashed as she plunged one dagger into the disarmed bandit’s neck, ending him instantly. Without pausing, she ducked under a wild swing from the second attacker and slashed his hamstring, bringing him to his knees before finishing him with a swift, precise strike to the throat. Mira turned to Brannick, her expression flat and emotionless.

  Two more bandits closed in on her, their crude axes raised high. Mira’s movements were fluid and unrelenting. She spun around the first attacker, her daggers carving across his ribs before she drove her blade into his back. Blood sprayed as he fell, but the second bandit was already swinging. Mira leaned back just enough for the axe to miss, countering with a quick slash across his arm. The man roared in pain, but Mira didn’t hesitate; she twirled behind him and drove both daggers into his chest, twisting them before pulling them free.

  She turned to Brannick, her expression unreadable but her voice sharp. “Stay near the carriage. You’re no good to us dead.”

  Brannick nodded, wiping sweat from his brow as he steadied himself. "Thanks," he grunted, his voice heavy with both gratitude and frustration at his own exhaustion.

  Near the carriage, Helena conjured a shimmering barrier of water around Elara, her magic surging with fierce determination.

  Her eyes burned with focus as she yelled, “Stay back!” at a bandit who dared to approach. Brannick, who was close, was too preoccupied fending off another two relentless bandits, his shield-axe rising and falling with heavy swings, to notice one slipping past his defense and breaking through toward us.

  The bandit sneered. “Kids? This’ll be easy.”

  I stood beside her, gripping my dagger so tightly my knuckles ached. My pulse thundered in my ears as a bandit broke through the defenses, his predatory gaze locking onto us. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but something deeper, something primal, took hold. Without a word, I stepped in front of Elara and Helena, my dagger raised, staring at the man with a deathly intensity.

  The bandit faltered, his sneer wavering for a moment as my bloodlust radiated outward, an unspoken promise of violence. Memories of my past life surged to the surface—a world where hesitation meant death and killers ruled the shadows. That part of me stirred, cold and calculating.

  Behind me, Elara’s soft voice broke through the tension, her tone trembling but full of resolve. "Emrys, no!" Each word heavy with fear. "You and Helena; please, just stay back!"

  Helena, standing just behind me, tightened her grip in my hand, her expression fierce despite the fear flickering in her eyes. "It's okay, Mama," she said, her voice steady but sharp. Then she glanced at me with a determined nod. "Em, let's show him why he picked the wrong family."

  "You protect Mom, Hel," I said, my voice low but steady as I locked eyes with the bandit. The weight of my past bore down on me, and my stare became as sharp as the dagger in my hand. Every ounce of me demanded he understand, this was not a fight he would win. Their words didn’t ease the burning fury within me; instead, they fed it.

  This wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about protecting them—my family. The weight of my past and the need for redemption coursed through me, sharpening my focus and strengthening my resolve. He won’t touch them, not while I’m here.

  The bandit’s grip on his weapon tightened, but he didn’t advance immediately, almost as if he sensed the danger standing before him. My need to protect my family was absolute, stronger than any fear or doubt. I couldn’t run. I wouldn’t run. If this man wanted to harm them, I’d end him without hesitation.

  He lunged, and my body moved before my mind could catch up. I slashed wildly with my dagger, my air magic surging instinctively. A sharp gust of wind struck him, sending him stumbling backward, his smirk vanishing into a look of pure shock.

  For a fleeting moment, he froze, his eyes wide as he processed what had just happened—the speed of my magic, the precision of the strike. It was as though he couldn't believe someone like me, a ‘kid,’ had turned the tide so swiftly. "What... What the hell are you?" the bandit stammered, his voice faltering as his grip on his weapon tightened.

  That brief hesitation was all I needed. My past life surged to the forefront of my mind, the instinct to kill, the cold, relentless focus on survival. Years of hardened experience in a world where life and death balanced on a razor’s edge flooded back. I knew exactly where to strike, the arteries, the weak points that would bleed him out in seconds. It wasn’t just about brute force; it was about precision, about making every movement count.

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  My body moved with a certainty that felt almost detached, as though the echoes of that life guided my hand with deadly clarity. The bloodlust within me burned brightly as I drove the dagger into his side with a desperate grunt, the blade sinking deep.

  His blood spattered my hands, but I didn’t stop. With a swift motion, I yanked the dagger out of his side, the sound of tearing flesh sickening yet satisfying, and rooted it into his neck, severing his jugular. The bandit gurgled, his eyes wide in disbelief as he crumpled to the ground in a growing pool of blood.

  Behind me, I heard the sharp intake of breath. Helena and Elara were frozen, their eyes wide with shock at what they had just witnessed.

  Helena’s scream jolted me back to reality. "Em! Behind you!"

  Out of nowhere, a second bandit emerged from the chaos, his spear slashing into my shoulder with brutal precision, a hot, sharp pain that made me stumble.

  "Emrys!" Elara screamed, her voice breaking with fear.

  Helena’s scream followed, her face twisting with panic. "Em!" In her shock, the protective water barrier she had conjured flickered and dropped, leaving Elara exposed. Acting on pure instinct, Helena snapped her fingers and shouted an incantation, her voice trembling with urgency.

  "Aqua Celeris, fer cum vi! Splashbolt!"

  A jet of water surged from her outstretched hand, slamming into the second bandit with enough force to throw him off balance. The impact sent him crashing into the rocky ground, his head striking hard enough to leave him dazed and groaning in pain. Helena's magic had bought me precious seconds to catch my breath and steady myself, though the pain in my shoulder still burned like fire.

  My vision blurred, but I gritted my teeth against the pain. I turned to Helena, my voice sharp yet reassuring. "Hel! I’ll be fine! Protect Mom, always!"

  Helena’s eyes widened as my words sank in. She glanced at Elara, then back at me, her face pale as realization struck. "The barrier... it fell," she whispered, her voice trembling. Without hesitation, she raised her hands, restoring the shimmering shield of water around Elara. The barrier returned, but I could see the strain in her trembling fingers and the beads of sweat forming on her brow. "I’m fine," she muttered to herself, almost as if trying to convince us both, though her faltering stance said otherwise.

  As I caught my breath, something began to feel off. My eyes darted around the battlefield, taking in the scene.

  Everyone was slowing down, their movements growing heavier. Brannick, near the carriage, was barely holding his ground, each swing of his shield-axe more labored than the last.

  Sweat poured down his face, and his knees trembled with exhaustion. "Damn it," he growled through clenched teeth, his voice tinged with frustration. "These bastards just keep coming. Raiden, I can’t hold them off much longer!"

  Helena, her hands trembling, struggled to keep the protective barrier around Elara intact. Her mana reserves were dwindling, the shimmering water flickering dangerously as she pushed herself past her limits.

  "Mama, I don’t know how much longer I can hold this," she whispered, her voice strained with worry. Her eyes darted to Elara, who looked back with a mixture of fear and determination.

  "Helena," Elara said softly, her voice trembling, "you’ve done enough. Please, just stay safe... both of you."

  Mira, always swift and precise, was now fending off four bandits at once, her movements still fluid but no longer as sharp. She danced between them, parrying blows and landing strikes, but even she was beginning to falter under the relentless onslaught. Blood streaked her left arm, and her breaths came in shallow gasps.

  Kaelith had run out of arrows, her quiver empty. She fought with her bow as a makeshift staff, flames erupting from her hands to ward off attackers. Her strikes were fierce, but the lack of weapons left her more exposed than usual, and the strain was visible in her narrowed eyes and taut jaw.

  The battlefield felt heavier, the air charged with desperation. Everyone was reaching their limits, and I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that we were being overwhelmed.

  As my gaze swept the battlefield, I found Raiden locked in a ferocious clash with Kaelor. The two were like forces of nature, Kaelor’s massive dual axe meeting Raiden’s blade in a clash of sparks and flames.

  Raiden moved with calculated precision, his blade cutting through the air in arcs of slashes. Each strike carried enough force to stagger Kaelor, his flames scorching the edges of Kaelor’s fur-lined cloak. For a moment, it seemed Raiden had the upper hand, his attacks pushing Kaelor back step by step.

  Kaelor snarled, planting his massive axe into the ground, "Terra Viva, ferrum surgat! Earthrise!"

  He bellowed, the ground erupting in jagged spikes beneath Raiden’s feet. Raiden leapt back, narrowly avoiding the stone shards that shot up to impale him. Kaelor seized the moment, swinging his axe with devastating force. Raiden barely parried the blow, the clash of metal ringing out like thunder.

  The two combatants circled each other, blood and sweat dripping onto the rocky ground.

  Raiden’s blade flared as he swung upward, flames erupting from the edge and searing Kaelor’s left side. The fire licked at Kaelor’s face, catching his left eye. He roared in pain, clutching his face as smoke curled from the charred skin.

  "You’ll pay for that!" Kaelor growled, his good eye blazing with fury. He swung his axe in a wide arc, catching Raiden’s right leg with the blade’s edge. The deep cut forced Raiden to falter, his leg buckling beneath him.

  Raiden gritted his teeth as he pressed his hand to the wound. But the deep cut in his leg proved too much. His knee buckled, and he fell to one knee, unable to rise. His breathing was ragged, and blood continued to seep from the edges of the wound, pooling beneath him. The strength in his leg faltered completely, leaving him vulnerable as Kaelor loomed over him, a triumphant sneer on his scarred face.

  "Time to end this," Kaelor growled, raising one axe high above his head. The blade caught the light, its jagged edge glinting ominously as Raiden’s eyes locked onto it. Despair flickered in Raiden’s gaze as he stared up at the weapon, his breathing ragged and his body frozen in place.

  His mind screamed for him to move, to raise his blade, but the weight of Kaelor’s overwhelming presence held him in place, paralyzed by the certainty of what was to come.

  As Kaelor lifted his massive axe, ready to bring it down on Raiden’s neck, a desperate scream tore through the battlefield.

  "Dad!!" I shouted, my voice raw and filled with fear. Before I even realized it, move! I need to get there now!

  My body propelled itself forward, air magic surging through me with an intensity I hadn’t felt since the day I awakened my fire magic. The speed at which I moved was alarming, and the world blurred around me as I closed the distance to Kaelor in an instant.

  Just as I reached him, I pushed past the fear, summoning everything I had into a powerful fire spell. I roared, aiming for Kaelor’s right arm holding the axe.

  Burn in hell! My mind conjured to engulf him.

  The flames erupted from my hand, engulfing his arm in searing fire. At the same time, I drove my dagger deep into his arm, twisting it as the flames burned fiercely. Kaelor screamed in pain, his voice a guttural roar as the fire consumed the flesh of his arm. His skin charred and cracked, blackened streaks running along the length of his forearm, and the heat singed his hair, leaving a burnt stench in the air.

  The wound where the dagger struck seemed to bubble and hiss, the intense fire cauterizing the gash even as the flames seared deeper into his flesh. Kaelor’s face twisted in agony, his expression contorted with rage and disbelief as he clutched his mangled arm.

  Reacting with brute strength, Kaelor swung his injured arm, flinging me away like a rag doll. I crashed into the rocky ground near the edge of the cliff, the impact knocking the air out of my lungs.

  Dazed, I tried to push myself up as Kaelor staggered back, clutching his scorched and bloodied arm. His enraged voice boomed across the battlefield. "Kill that child! Kill him now!"

  Raiden, frozen moments earlier, seemed to awaken at the sound of my scream. His eyes widened in shock and anger as he saw me lying near the cliff’s edge. "Emrys!" he bellowed, his voice thick with desperation. Summoning the last of his strength, he lunged toward Kaelor, his hand igniting once more. But before he could reach him, another bandit intercepted, blocking Raiden’s path and forcing him into a brutal clash.

  Nearby, Mira’s sharp intake of breath broke the tension as she watched the scene unfold. Her usual composure faltered for a split second as she muttered, "Air and fire... he’s a dual affinity mage." Kaelith, her bow still clutched tightly in her hands, turned to Mira with a look of disbelief.

  Helena gasped, clutching Elara tighter as she watched Kaelor fling me toward the edge of the cliff. "Em!" she screamed, her voice breaking as panic took hold.

  Elara’s trembling hands reached out as if trying to grab me from afar. "My son," she whispered, her voice trembling with fear.

  I lay dazed, my breaths ragged as I struggled to push myself up. Blood dripped steadily from my shoulder, staining the rocky ground beneath me. Each shallow breath sent sharp pains through my chest, and I realized with growing dread that one of my ribs was likely broken from Kaelor’s swing.

  My manaheart throbbed painfully, the overuse of magic leaving it feeling strained, as though it might shatter at any moment. My mana was nearly depleted, leaving me weak and unsure of what I had left to give.

  Protect them, clinging to the only thing keeping me upright. I have to protect them.

  Two bandits, following Kaelor’s orders, approached me with grim determination. One glanced at the other, his voice low but firm. "Let’s make this quick. We need to help the boss."

  Their words barely registered as I gripped my dagger tightly, the last vestiges of strength and mana surging through me. The thought of my family’s safety ignited something deep within, pushing me beyond the limits of my broken body.

  Summoning air magic once more, I propelled myself forward, the speed and precision of my movements catching the bandits off guard.

  The first bandit’s eyes widened as I appeared before him, my dagger striking his neck with surgical precision. Blood sprayed across my face, but I didn’t stop. I spun to face the second bandit, my blade finding his artery with equal accuracy. His gurgled cries faded as he collapsed beside his comrade, the rocky ground pooling with their blood.

  My body gave out, and I fell to my knees, the dagger almost slipping from my trembling hand.

  Blood soaked my clothes, both my own and that of the men I had just killed. My vision blurred as fatigue consumed me, and I barely registered how close I had landed to the edge of the cliff.

  Suddenly, the ground beneath me shot upward, a blunt spike of earth slamming into my stomach with brutal force. Pain exploded through me—knocking me half unconscious—and I was thrown backward, my body off the ground flying over the edge.

  The jagged cliffside rushed past me, the sharp wind roaring in my ears as I struggled to stay conscious. For a fleeting moment, I caught a glimpse of Kaelor’s face twisted into a cruel smile, his expression radiating satisfaction, as if he were glad to finally rid himself of me.

  The sight filled me with despair before my gaze shifted to Raiden, bloodied and screaming my name, and Helena’s face twisted in terror as she reached out toward me. Elara’s cries pierced the chaos, the sound cutting through the air like a dagger.

  The world tilted, and for a brief moment, the battlefield above disappeared from my view. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision as I fell, the wind roaring in my ears.