LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 21

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 21

 

After Dwengzur had said his unemotional farewells to those few that meant something to him amidst the assembled group, he had then quietly taken his position beside the Elder Aegeus and patiently waited.   

Elder Aegeus who’d been momentarily lost to a private rumination (reflection), maintaining his serious demeanor, gravely nodded and then enigmatically (incomprehensibly) mumbled the secret ancient incantation. Instantly he and Dwengzur, were both reduced to two glowing, flickering balls of light that shot through the air towards the far cavern wall and passing through it, promptly disappeared.

                                                                                       ~

01- STHETOR IMMORTAL (11)JP

The lengthy, thoughtful silence was broken (interrupted) by Elder Sthetor, when he indifferently shrugged, then in an icy tone simply ejected (spoke up):” If there is no objection, we may as well observe (and review) the rest of current events, transpiring in Wenjenkun.”

Others nodded in acquiescence for the latest string of events had already, irrevocably, captivated (held, even peaked) their interest. 

Sthetor, in no great hurry, first checked his elation, for things had transpired exactly as he had planned; now he could relax his vigil and wait for that inevitable turn of events. His emotionless, green eyes (dependent on his mood the color of his eyes often varied, modified) bypassing Olavingemar, swept the rapt faces of Elders for a spell, delighting inwardly in prolonging their suspense; then ever so slowly, he rose and pointed to the circle, intoning the last part of the incantation:

"Do-kume..ke..ki... sooonures do …  

mukenoro qu wuuuos…. Hukoressyonner….”

"Kazuuuummm… “

    Behold!

 

The vista (scene, episode) on the wall immediately came back to life, resuming where it had left off.  

                                                                           

02-ZONAR - IMMORTAL (3)JP

Zonar , turning (reverting) his stern gaze back to Lenny Sukzor, sternly ejected. “But I did not come here to engage in congenial chatter. I am still risking quite a bit, to be here, so pay heed and convey this message, post haste, to His Majesty Yoshikan Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan: ‘His Highness must defer (postpone) executing the next ploy (stratagem); favorable outcome has already been assured without it.”  

“More importantly, His Highness must be forewarned of the fact, that Zakhertan Yozdek has already deployed (sent forth) an army equipped with a new, lethal weaponry, not to strengthen Korion's borders and counter Kontu’s aggression as you’ve been led to believe, but in truth, to assassinate His Highness Yoshikan and to annihilate our populace to the last man.”  

Lenny Sukzor was aghast, having heard nothing at all to this effect. "What! How have you …"

“Don’t interrupt.” Zonar impatiently interposed (interrupted, snapped). “And another thing, inform His Highness Yoshikan that, an unavoidable circumstance constrains me for an indefinite period (time) to be absent; I will nevertheless be in the know and return the moment I’m needed."  

"Rest assured," Zonar relenting, smiled at Lenny Sukzor and spoke in softer tone. "I will avert this very disaster in due course by intercepting their Commander-in-Chief, Heshur Zican, who has in his possession the only copy of the amended decree.”

“Fortunately, Zakhertan Yozdek’s (suspicious nature and taken) precaution can be used in our favor.  You see, aside from Heshur, all the other officers (his subordinate generals) had been kept in the dark about this change to ensure the element of surprise that is so vital to their mission's success.  They falsely believe that they had been deployed to the frontier to assist the subsidiary Nation, Korion, in countering and halting hostile incursions, from amassed forces of Kontu.”  

“Hmm…A bolt of lightning and resulting bush fire disguised in a stormy night should do the trick.” Zonar inwardly considering, more to himself, articulated (mumbled); then looking up and shrugging, he added, "The rest will be up to Sovereign Yoshikan."

03-YOSHIKAN SOUSING NOKUZUK BINCHAN   (5)JP

"But how do you propose to catch up with Heshur Zican who, accordingly, is well on his way to…”  Lenny Sukzor was however, quickly silenced by Zonar’s irate, stern gaze that seemed to say, “You dare question my ability?”

"Now for the second reason of my visit here… Heed this warning Lenny Sukzor and abandon that crazy scheme of yours. You know what I mean.  Stay put for now.  Zakhertan Yozdek’s days are numbered as it is. Fate has given to another the duty of killing him, one whose obligation it is to avenge far more grievous wrongs, than yours.  Have I made myself clear?"  Zonar did not wait for the required confirmation before he then turned away. 

Zonar did not disappear right away; however, instead, he lingered at the spot with his back to Lenny Sukzor, long enough to (append) add, "Take care, son of Wushing for you are, as well, destined for greater things. Yet before that can even begin to happen, you must purge yourself of this weakness of yours. You know very well what I mean. Having finished what, I had come to say, I shall now take my leave of you. Farewell till we meet again."   Zonar for a second or so looked at him knowingly (calculatingly) then threw his head back and laughed boisterously.

 In the next instant he had disappeared from the room, yet his laughter resounded (echoed) in Lenny Sukzor’s ears long afterwards, diminishing only gradually.

                                                                             

                                                                               ~

 

A few moments later that same night Zonar had reappeared in Nevetsecnuac's private quarters alongside his bed; smiling, he leaned forward to lightly touch his nephew, the sleeping Prince's shoulder.

Nevetsecnuac sensing his presence however had awoken at once with a start and sat upright. At that instant Zonar snapped his two fingers to illuminate the entire room right away by an artificial (unnatural) light, without the benefit of any candles, then went over and sat down in a plush chair in the far corner.  

Nevetsecnuac had instantly bolted from the bed and now stood in the centre of the room, arms crossed and with feet firmly planted on the carpet. Seeing who the intruder was, obviously quite pleased, he smiled and bowed his head slightly in greeting. "I had hoped for as much. So, you are alive and well.” After a brief scrutiny, Nevetsecnuac nodded: “And you have altered your appearance… You certainly look much younger, without the beard.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Zonar simply grinned.

“Are you here for a rematch, sir?"  Nevetsecnuac getting right to the point, asked.

"Hah! I like your directness!" Zonar threw his head back and laughed uproariously but then suddenly, unexpectedly turning quite serious, he ejected in a genuinely disappointed tone:  "Unfortunately, being pressed for time, I must forgo the fight; another time perhaps.”  

“Then why are you here?”

"Listen carefully,” Zonar held up his hand (palm). "Having scant opportunity, I ask that you allow me to state the reason for my visit forthwith and then let me be on my way with all due haste. Forgo the notion of rescuing Lord Asgar’s son Ivar Marrog Zhon; as the person in dungeon claimed to be him is false, he is only a poor unfortunate decoy (substitute). Yes, the true son lives, but at present he lives and prospers under an assumed name in this very Capital.” A witty, wry smile brushed his lips, as he added, “And you’ve already met him once, in the thoroughfare (main road) of Channing.”  

Zonar just then perceiving Nevetsecnuac’s unspoken query, shook his head in the negative.  

“Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to divulge any further than this, not without profound consequences to you and to Wenjenkun. Be assured however that the son is destined to meet his father, Lord Asgar, at the appointed time. For some reason however, I’m being kept from foreseeing (prophesizing) any further than that; so, I cannot reveal the result of that encounter. “ 

 

04-ZONAR - IMMORTAL (16)JP

Nevertheless, Zonar, sensing that something grave was the impending outcome (the consequence) of that encounter, frowning, he looked away; he was clearly perturbed, by this (shortcoming) inability. Moment later however, he shrugged and then continued: “As for days' time few days you will gain the opportunity, ahead of schedule, to encounter (meet, face) Zakhertan Yozdek, our common enemy. Be sure to take the writing brush with you when you go to the North palace. Mark my words, Zakhertan Yozdek is the devil incarnate and, as competent as I know you to be, you may not succeed in your intended venture unless you have an edge over him. He does not fight justly (equitably); he will cheat. I do not refer to mere cunning stratagem or treachery, which I know you have come to expect from him. He will use otherworldly (occult) methods or medium to win; alas, he knows an enchantment which I call the “Nokuzikos spell”, that is virtually unknown in Wenjenkun, or in any part of this world, for that matter.  Armed with this advantage, he is virtually invincible and uses it unscrupulously, in single combat or in battle (warfare), to vanquish all his enemies (adversaries).  Therefore, I am here, additionally, to equalize your chances on that impending final duel." 

Zonar beckoned to Nevetsecnuac and when the prince was in closer proximity, he leaned forward and whispered his instructions to Nevetsecnuac, in argot, one which he had specifically designed to be understood only by Nevetsecnuac.  

In this remarkable way Nevetsecnuac was hence armed with the knowledge of the workings of the Nokuzikos spell, the enchantment of Wind and Fire; the counter spell which would render it harmless; and the precise juncture at which it should be cast to beget (produce) maximum effect.  Zonar had taken this precautionary measure, more for the sake of keeping it from the prying ears of the Elders of Karn. When he’d finished imparting all the details, Nevetsecnuac, comprehending this great favor, bowed and most humbly thanked him.

05- NEVETSECNUAC (4)

"All right, all right," Zonar bit discomforted, impatiently dismissed the expressions of gratitude from his nephew then went on to warn Nevetsecnuac further, of the possible, unanticipated variables he may still encounter.  

As it was, the outcome of the combat between Zakhertan and Nevetsecnuac had, as well, enigmatically been kept from Zonar.  Zonar absently shook his head, as he inwardly at present again pondered, why some aspects of his cast divinations for future predictions (forecasts) had been clear as day while others had been vague or as if determinedly (by Heaven perhaps), totally concealed from him. This sort disquiets (foreboding) he kept to himself however, besides which he had complete confidence in this Prince’s rare abilities.  

Suddenly recalling another pressing matter, Zonar reached deep into his pocket seeking a leather pouch and retrieving it, removed from it an oval, Aquamarine crystal pill which he then presented (gave) to Nevetsecnuac.  

"I nearly forgot this. In any case, well before the final contest (combat) with Zakhertan Yozdek, you will fall prey to a dastardly attempt on your life. When that time comes and this is needed, just swallow it whole; you will be instantly restored (returned) to perfect health to complete your mission.”  

 

(END OF SECTION 21)

 

 

                                                                           ~

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 18

Hugen and Uyuk knew full well that the contingent from Wenjenkun was headed straight into an ambush from Hell. All without exception would perish before they reached their postings; meanwhile the assault would be carried out in such a way that the blame for this grievous massacre would be unequivocally pinned on Kontu, and the inevitable conflict between the two giants would be drawn ever closer.  A prolonged war with Kontu would provide Korion then with just the means they needed; for both Wenjenkun and Kontu were equally matched in manpower and leadership, and the ensuing decade’s long war would invariably exhaust the massive resources and manpower of both antagonists. 

01- FIGHTING SCENE

Korion in the interim could play both sides to its own advantage, ultimately strengthening its own (standing) position. Their nation all this time of course would seemingly maintain its alliance with Wenjenkun right up to the precise strategic time when they would opportunely switch and form a partnership with Kontu to the inevitable detriment of the Wenjenkun nation.  This had been the alternate long-term strategy that was dependent on the anticipated failure of the assassination attempt.  Fortunately, certain configurations were still intact.  Thanks to the Crown Prince Herleif, besides his numerous other failings, was an incompetent, utter fool; so detested was he that neither the nobility nor the common citizens would ever rally to his cause if it were warranted. 

Sovereign Yoshikan (Sousing Nokuzuk Binchan) had also determined for some time now, that this seemingly strong Wenjenkun Empire was, in recent years, had gradually begun to rot at its very core.  At the highly anticipated moment of Zakhertan’s future demise (termination), the internal strife fueled in part by Korion's own gentry would tear Wenjenkun apart from region to region, while, powerful factions poised at its wings, would at once pounce to (carve up) siphon the existing, residual power of the government.

 "His Excellency Tuvering Bokurek has higher ambitions." Hugen nodded simply just then, absently sounding his inner thoughts.  "His main objective, as payback for our years of humiliation, is to effect more lasting devastation on them than mere vengeance."

02- MINISTER TUVERING BOKUREK -JP

Hugen after exhaling deeply was about to continue when he, suddenly stiffened.  “There it was again!  No mistaking it this time!”   His keen senses had picked up the slightest, most minute stirring.

Uyuk, lost in deep contemplation, detected the sudden tenseness in the other and looked up sharply.  Drawing close, he was about to inquire as to what was wrong when Hugen's pointed look (mordant, acerbic look) at once stilled Uyuk’s tongue.  He inclined his head slightly to, discretely peer at the corner Hugen had indicated with his chin and then nodded in silent understanding.

Hugen lazily stretched his limbs and yawned then grumblingly ejected: "Hey, all this jabbering has worn me out.  What do you say, we call it a night?"

Uyuk let out a pretense yawn also then with a terse nod, consented. "All right, we can always talk more, later.  I must confess; I'm a bit wrung-out myself.  Let us get some shut eye in preparation for the arduous ride still ahead of us tomorrow."

The two men exchanged one more rapid, meaningful glance and then quickly set up their bedding in the respective spots. The candle was snuffed out and both Hugen and Uyuk retired to sleep with their backs to the far corner. Before long heavy breathing and the occasional snore emanated from Hugen and Uyuk’s forms, an indication that they had both fallen into a deep slumber. Their loud snores reverberated in the air, contesting with the resurging gale winds outside that completely drowned out the creaking of the hidden cellar door in the far corner, as it slowly opened, displacing (pushing aside) the mound of dirt and debris that had been prior heaped onto it. 

Two robust figures clothed completely in black from head to foot, silently crawled out of the opening on all fours, with the gleaming blades clenched between their teeth. Swift as reptilians, they silently crept towards the sleeping figures.  Momentarily about a foot away, they abruptly halted, perhaps startled by the sudden, ominous hooting of the owl; subsequently, rising to their feet with daggers already shifted to their hands, they insidiously resumed their stealthy advance towards the perceived, hapless victims. Murderous intent registering in their eyes, they poised to strike but before they could, Hugen and Uyuk at lightning speeds jumped up from their mats, somersaulted in mid-air and knocked the blades from the assailants’ hands, same time delivered two powerful (potent) kicks that knocked the assassins right off their feet and hurled them against the far wall.  But the two were no ordinary robbers, equally nimble and proficient at fighting; they’d, before hitting the wall, quickly regained their balance and agilely back flipped then struck back. In that split second beforehand, meanwhile, the two powerful strikes had caused the daggers to arch across the room and be permanently embedded in the ceiling beams.

A lightning bolt and then immediately after that the sound of thunder outside, judging by the proximity of it, posed a fresh threat to the combatants; even so, non inside paid any heed to it. A scant time to exchange threats, Hugen and Uyuk had swiftly been paired off to fight their opponent with incredible dexterity and skill. The ensuing desperate, deadly, highly competitive pitched combat lasted longer than Uyuk had anticipated, for both sides were equally matched in strength, stamina, and ability.

 In truth Hugen had been holding back, wishing only to subdue the opponent before the final elimination, to (interrogate) extract information from him. After thirty rounds with no clear advantage however, Hugen’s patience at an end, he fast abandoned the idea of taking a live prisoner. From then on, a marked difference in his fighting style had occurred.  

03- HUGEN (61)jp

Hugen's flawless, quite invincible, lightening intensity fighting technique (his deflecting of each deadly strike from the opponent, then countering it with more lethal force), each strike increasingly more vigorous and deadly accurate, had even impressed Uyuk, who had been fighting alongside him. Uyuk was furthermore amazed, how Hugen moved so simultaneously with his laudable opponent, each time countering every offensive even before it was launched. Despite the differing styles and strikes, there was still no surprising Hugen and soon his attacker began to falter; nearly undone, by his own powerful strikes and blows each time with heightened intensity being reflected to him. Then, sensing a rare opening, in one swift maneuver, a swirl and a blindingly fast kick, Hugen had broken the man's spine.

 The other assassin, seeing his partner so expertly vanquished, parried the next deadly strike from Uyuk then somersaulted high up, intending to crash through the thatched roof to affect his escape.

He had nearly succeeded too, but Uyuk anticipating this, had at once jumped up to simultaneously block and then, balancing precariously on the partially exposed narrow roof beam, continued the fight.   At scant opportune moment when Uyuk had just delivered his deadly kick, breaking his opponent's jaw and neck, the roof beam underfoot unfortunately, had caved in and so the two came crashing down. The dead assailant fell with a thud face down onto the floor of the hut while Uyuk had somersaulted to land gingerly on his one foot then on both feet, (none-the-worse-for-wear) unaffected from the violent tumble.

The last leg of the combat had been fought in pitch darkness (the howling winds continuously whipping everything about), blindly and by sheer instinct; notwithstanding, Hugen had heard the force of Uyuk's blows and had noted the agility with which he had avoided the other's powerful strikes. Presently, though the pelting rain had ceased, the flotilla of clouds remaining, still blanketed the skies and the ground. With the roof now partially gone, when the moon momentarily peeked out from under the dense clouds, Hugen noted in the moonlight, how completely at ease Uyuk was.

“The intensity of combat should have left him, at least somewhat winded.”  In that moment Hugen had understood how he had inordinately underestimated Uyuk's prowess.

But by the time Hugen retrieved the candle and lit it to examine the corpses more closely, Uyuk was back to (playing) his old tricks, acting as though he was spent, exhausted, complaining about his sham aches and pains and phantom bruises.

Hugen disregarding this infuriating charade turned each of the corpses over to examine them; he frowned to see that both had been totally expired.

"What did you expect?" Uyuk's voice was almost gleeful.

"I expected to detect some spark of life, for questioning.” Hugen glared at Uyuk.

“I don’t know what I expected." He then had grumbled, under his breath. As further setback, the subsequent careful examination of both corpses had revealed not a single clue of their identity, affiliation, or nationality. The cellar they had emerged from, contained rations for one month still unused, but again nothing specific in their wrappings or preparation to, reveal any practical (useful, handy) facts or identifiable markings for determining their origin. To the trained eye, however, there were clues to be had, hinted at, not by what was provided, but by what had been left out. Hugen knew how to interpret these signs though he, by design, refrained from disclosing it to Uyuk.

04- UYUK  (4)JP

Under his breath, Uyuk cursed his carelessness. Hugen was right, these two, were no ordinary assassins, he now pondered. All he had to do was hold back just that little bit; but then, why had Hugen not spared his opponent? Yet he was so quick to criticize him! Uyuk nevertheless, checked his ire and kept his tongue, with the stark realization that there might be others in these two's wake, which posed greater angst. The assailants with their incredible prowess had been barely manageable; should their associates (comrades, people), especially if they were from Kozurs or Black Molochs, were ever to show up in greater numbers, the two of them might not be as fortunate in escaping certain catastrophe.

Uyuk and Hugen, while succinctly had pondered on the akin concern, mindful that their key mission was still unfulfilled and therefore, not being at liberty to linger to permanently resolve the situation, both had silently and simultaneously had at once set to work to oversee crucial details before their imminent prompt departure:

Dampness had precluded (excluded) the possibility of setting the whole place on fire. Confiscating some of the assailants’ rations, they dumped the bodies back into the cellar and arranged the top of the trap door as it once had been. The partially exposed roof could not be fixed in time, but to buy time, they removed all other signs of a struggle from the inside of the hut, including the knives buried in the rafters. Rounding up all their belongings next and removing (covering up) any evidence that might lead the would-be pursuers to them, they under cover of darkness rapidly slipped away.

 

                                                                                      ~

 

(END OF SECTION 18)          

  

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 5

 Dwengzur, muttering an incomprehensible incantation, first drew a small circle of flame in the air, blew at it then, gestured grandly, “Behold!”

As Dwengzur sat on the chair and leaned his back to view the scene in comfort, the circle meanwhile had expanded then, got filled with images.

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) now noted with disdain Zakhertan Yozdek’s Spartan sleeping quarters. Few minutes later, at the appointed hour Zakhertan’s personal guards took up their usual posts at outside, while Zakhertan pretending to retire, climbed into bed and drew up the curtains. But instead of going to asleep, he had slyly withdrawn to the secret antechamber off the bedroom proper, which he had often used. Meanwhile, the curtains around his bed being tightly drawn, gave the impression that he was there within and, fast asleep.

01- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (9) JP

Sovereign Zakhertan had been bidden by Dwengzur, to remain in his secret antechamber, for his safety’s sake, till all (the assassination attempt and the response), was over; alternatively, however, Zakhertan had planned to re-emerge once the fighting had started to observe and gain firsthand knowledge of the Immortals’ (otherwise well- guarded) abilities. This aspiration if fulfilled, would have made Zakhertan even more powerful.

Nevetsecnuac just then noted the Immortal Dwengzur peeping out from behind the ebony partition, having previously entered the room and hidden in a secret alcove behind the dark-hardwood-panel, his face the very picture of impatience. He’d waited there, nearly an hour, to set upon Zonar with a deadly force, the moment latter showed up. Dwengzur instantly ducked back in again as the rumbling groan forecasted the arrival of Zonar. The ceiling parted with a crackling noise and, riding a flotilla of clouds, Zonar majestically descended slowly into the center of the room. Instantly he became aware of Dwengzur's presence and turned to confront the threat. With lightning speed, Dwengzur had already launched his attack only to see the deadly onslaught parlayed with equal agility. Zonar struck back. Not once, but twice he delivered simultaneous assaults to the vulnerable points of his ardent foe. Dwengzur's clearly pronounced surprise was evident (marked) on his features; he had grossly underestimated Zonar's abilities. That mistake he strove to quickly rectify however, as Nevetsecnuac's eyes then beheld an incredibly electric fighting display. Meanwhile as if there were no walls there at all, Nevetsecnuac observed Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek springing up from his cot in the secret antechamber off the bedroom proper, unsheathing his sword and charging towards the door. Zakhertan next, tried turning the knob with his free left hand, to go outside.

Nevetsecnuac's face at once became suffused with anger as he noted the sword the usurper was brandishing in his right hand, the legendary sword of his great, great grandfather, Inghard Nevetsecnuac Therran Valamir, the founder of Ingolf Dynasty.

Nevetsecnuac had first learned the existence of this sword from the historical archives (the ancient paintings provided the image) as he was growing up under the assiduous tutelage of Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon. The annals (chronicles and monographs) had also alleged, the blade had been forged from the meteorite that had fallen to Earth on the very day of Inghard Nevetsecnuac Therran Valamir's birth. The metal extracted from the meteorite rock was unyielding and unworkable; but after an extensive search, only an Indigenous blacksmith from a remote region of Anzui, proved capable of forging it into a magnificent sword. For decades since, this heirloom had proven indispensable on the battlefield for the warrior kings of Wenjenkun, as the blade kept its acerbic (sharp) edge regardless, slicing through rock, metal, and the strongest armor of most formidable foe. Moreover, the archives had stated that the sword possessed magical properties, and, in the benevolent hands of King Inghard and subsequent descendants, it had always radiated a pure blue, iridescence. With disdain Nevetsecnuac observed the bloody crimson glow that enveloped the sword’s blade now that it was in the grip of the villainous Usurper Zakhertan Yozdek.

02- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (1) JP

Finding the door jammed Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek meanwhile, with fury and great strength had struck, pounded, viciously kicked the door, and pulled at the doorhandle, as he same time bellowed commands and dire treats to both Dwengzur and his own indomitable guards. The sturdy construction of the doors, however, would not yield in the least. Once locked, they were made to withstand any onslaught; furthermore, at both ends Sovereign and the frantic guards’ efforts had all been-impeded by Dwengzur’s prior incantation, which kept both sets of doors sealed up tight, via (by means of) supernatural force.

All the while, in mid course, the uncanny, magnificent (outstanding) battle between Dwengzur and Zonar had raged. The impressive sight on occasion took Nevetsecnuac's breath away. Most of the time their forms were unrecognizable, just a huge, swirling blurs that assumed various shapes, colors, and sizes.

03- TREMENDOUS BATTLE BETW. IMMORTALS

Somersaulting, and then shooting up into the air, unobstructed by the non-existent ceiling, their swords clashed repeatedly in bursts of electric fire. Every so often they conjured up vile, hideous demons to engage in simultaneous combat overhead, their fiery blazes lighting up (illuminating) the sky all the way to the Heavens. The battle was so fantastic, so incredible; it boggled all senses and the mind.

Witnessing this, Nevetsecnuac's indomitable resolve and confidence gradually now waned, as he realized (grasped) the measure of his own mortal ability; moreover, he had now fully comprehended how Dwengzur and Zonar could only be, bested or killed, by their own kind and no other. His contest with Zonar therefore, aside from that lucky hap-stance (where the amulet was, lost), had been all along a hopeless escapade (feat).

“That is right! Now you know just what it is you are up against,” Dwengzur ejected smugly, eyeing Fradel Rurik Korvald.

Disregarding Dwengzur’s words and once more mental block in place, Nevetsecnuac further reflected how his hallucinogenic episode had been in fact a serious forewarning. Dwengzur being a more competent Immortal, what hope did Nevetsecnuac have, of besting him?

A slight feeling of consternation gripped Nevetsecnuac’s heart as he faced this new reality. Thankfully he had not tried engaging Dwngzur in a mortal combat; if he had done that, he could have sabotaged his chief aim! After all the training, the sacrifices the others had made on his behalf, all he had been through, and it would have all been (futile) in vain. At least he’d not made the gross underestimation of Dwengzur’s power! Nevetsecnuac was glad now, heeding his intuition earlier and, opting to fight Dwengzur solely through (by way of) psychological warfare.

Even though Nevetsecnuac knew beforehand the outcome of this now incessantly raging battle between the two Immortals, having witnessed its gruesome, violent ending (on his first day, arriving at the Capital), it only strengthened his earlier resolve and same time, rekindled his seething contempt for this formidable, invincible foe, Dwengzur. He would therefore do his utmost to avenge Zonar and to destroy Dwengzur. His mind unrelenting, Nevetsecnuac began formulating his next manoeuvre (plan). You must be like the water. He reminded self.  You must seem to yield when that is requisite, while adapting stealthy tactic to seize the advantage and obtain apex result.

Relaxing his mind’s block, Nevetsecnuac let this next thought now unobstructed, be revealed to Dwengzur, and then ended it with this sentence, how does it feel to be goaded, to have the shoe on the other foot?

“Hah?” Picking Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) deliberately antagonistic projection and than the goading, Dwengzur glared (in daggers) at Fradel Rurik Korvald. “What is that? You dastardly fiend, you played me?”

The Immortal was now quite incensed; then, Fadel’s subsequent projected thoughts aced his fury.

“None have dared be that presumptuous with me and lived to tell of it. Death will be a welcome relief when I am through with you, Fradel Rurik Korvald!”  Gritting his teeth, the immortal threw Fradel a contemptuous, venomous scowl, yet the controlled inner peace of the scholar did not waver, not in the least, in response to the threat in Dwengzur's eyes. Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) furthermore had continued outwardly with his prodding, the taunt clearly perceptible in his (vernacular) each idiom: "Such an impressive combat, yet the reason, which is the real reason, for Zonar's denunciation (censure), persecution  and demise, or rather his execution is, now please allow me a primitive being, to reiterate, to affirm that : Zonar Kuntzu’s condemnation had nothing at all to do with his interferences in the mortal realm, nor was it the posed threat to Zakhertan Yozdek; rather, it was necessary because your sacred laws had been breached. He dared to live and thrive at the outside world. As Zonar can never be forced into compliance, not by Elders of Karn or you, his defiance being the real threat, he was hence, slated (scheduled) for death. Imagine being threatened by one solitary Immortal, your race is doomed to fail, repeatedly.” Nevetsecnuac grimaced and shook his head, and then, continued with his taunting (goading). “Your race’s antiquated laws despite your prior claim of it being for the preservation of humankind is in truth is for, vigorously, at times belligerently, safeguarding and perpetuating Karn Race’s superiority over, not just us humans, but all other races.”

“Moreover, even though by your own admission, we humans are not worthy of any serious consideration, your kind is actually threatened by the inherent potential that you see in us."

After a purposeful pause, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac)’s unflinching, dogged pupils was again, pinned, on the Immortal's flaming eyes. Fradel grimaced coldly, as he now inwardly and deliberately provoked the other. “Yet, intriguing and true these notions be, perhaps you would care to hear my further caveats(forewarnings)?” 

Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) in deliberate slowness projected these next set of thoughts, making sure Dwengzur had grasped fully every premise (concept, idea, opinion).

04- ZONAR FIGHTS DWENGZUR

Fradel’s eyes back on the fighting Zonar, he gasped, as if in admiration. “What a fine warrior he is. Better then anyone I believe that your kind could produce!” All the while letting Dwengzur read his thoughts, without hindrance, he then turned his hard gaze back on Dwngzur and deliberately, with needling (inciting) thought, further provoked him:   “It is my contention that you pursued and so grievously disposed of such an exceptional, immortal warrior, because his true abilities were yet to manifest (ascertained). Also, guided by his contaminated heart, he might have posed more serious future disruptions to your race; as well, sought apt vengeance (retribution) for the grievous murders of his natural father, foster parents and mortal siblings.”

Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) uncanny, finely-honed (keen) insight unnerved Dwengzur; he now stared, for a time, menacingly back at Fradel and then, enunciated (issued) aloud this threat:  "I have underestimated you, scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. I assure you, sir, I shall not repeat that mistake again." 

Not in the least bit intimidated, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) simply smiled.

 Dwengzur’s piercing, contemptuous eyes meeting the scholar’s unflinching gaze however, he again encountered the same obstruction, the same resistance to his probing. Undaunted, Dwengzur grimaced. “Go ahead,” he scoffed, detesting Fradel Rurik Korvald yet respecting him more, “erect all the barriers you can; in the end you will still lose. Your aim is too transparent.”  

A dismissive wave of the hand made the reeling scene on the wall, poof, disappear. He would not share any more information with this upstart scholar.

Feeling suddenly parched, Dwengzur reached for the wine decanter, consumed the contents of it in one, long, unhurried guzzle (swig, swallow) and, placing the empty flagon (flask) back onto the table, leaned back.

“I'm onto your tricks, petty human.”  He coldly scrutinized Fradel, while lending him only half an ear. “Two can play at this game.”  Dwengzur glowered.

Enjoying the predominant atmosphere of antipathy and this rare human’s uncommon courage and wit, “We’ll see just how long you can keep this up!”  Dwengzur, with his look of daggers, jeered at Fradel.

“But wait, I'm not through speculating.” Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac’s) projected his subsequent, uncanny thoughts, which was at once picked up by Dwengzur. “I now venture to guess as to the real reason you, sir, have sought out my company and the motive behind this constrained inquisition… You wish to know if Zonar had imparted to me any sacrosanct Immortal's secrets.”  Nevetsecnuac boldly met Dwengzur's eye, catching the fleeting glint of acknowledgment in them.

"Why should I deny it?"  Fradel’s (Nevetsecnuac's) shockingly direct revelation disturbed Dwengzur (took him back, made Dwengzur anxious) for a spell.

"But even if you utilize all your powers; still, you cannot extract it from me.” Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) bluffed, his eyes daringly meeting Dwengzur’s.

Most astonished by this display of raw courage, Dwengzur's indignation ebbed, and he grimaced slyly. "Your goading will not work this time?" Dwengzur interrupted Fradel subsequent words, with a gesture of his hand.

"Then again, your species are frequently deceitful; humans in general, are not known for their candor." Dwengzur shook his head. "In whatever status, misinterpretations of facts are an art form to you humans. Am I to believe that you are so different, a mutant perhaps?"  He looked directly, incredulously at Fradel, trying to gauge his response.

" No; after each encounter Zonar did not tarry long enough to pass on any such info, I’m certain of that.” Dwengzur after a deliberate pause, concluded. "Considering the gravity of this matter however, I must obtain solid confirmation for my self; and that can only be achieved, by penetrating your mind. The consequential damage, I assure you, will be minimal."  Then, as congenially as he could, he demanded that he, be allowed, to do just that.

Though a small consolation (solace, relief), it had been made perfectly clear to Nevetsecnuac by now, how without his permission Dwengzur could not probe into the deep recesses of his subconscious. Nevetsecnuac, with his definite misgivings about the Immortal, simply shook his head as his answer in the negative.

Dwengzur predictably viewed this refusal, as clear indication of the Scholar’s guilt; impatient with this standoff, he drummed his fingers on the table and pensively looked away:  So far, guile and coaxing had produced no satisfactory results. However, intriguing this obstinate human was, he still had wasted his precious time, particularly since he had hoped to have been well on his way by now.

He turned his harsh gaze back on Fradel and narrowing his eyes, ejected acerbically: "If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just relent."

Nevetsecnuac defiantly met other’s piercing eyes and shook his head, "You cannot intimidate me. I will relent all right; when Hell freezes over!”

"That can easily be arranged." Dwengzur's bark shook the entire hall to its foundations before he turned his head away to check his rising temper.

 It certainly would not do to reduce all of this to ashes. The Immortal exhaled deeply, oh, I had hoped to avoid this but, constrained for time as I am, I am hoping my master will go easy on me for this necessary infringement (via force to involuntarily extracting it out of him). Dwengzur’s ambivalence, this circumspect (guarded, prudent) leniency, of course had stemmed from, his innate terror of his master and the all too frequent repercussions (penalties) that he had endured, for his regular acts of disobedience; and so, for few more seconds he just fixed his blank stare on the tapestry hanging on the far wall. Then again there was that other option; he shrugged, and for that, scholar’s willpower needed, to be broken! Dwengzur's face, for a spell, shone with dark malice and he lowered his thoughtful gaze on the floor.

No, not just yet; he will use it as the last resort. As it where, he had already gone too far and for that, his punishment will not be light… Abruptly stopping his subsequent conjectures (speculations), he shook his head to dispel, to purge the succeeding (resultant) rush of unpleasant images and thoughts from his mind.

(END OF SECTION 5)

 

                                                                                            ~ 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 35

 

The cloaked figure had appeared before him out of nowhere, Lance Diostin sizing up this unmistakably, imposing warrior brandishing his sword, threw his head back and laughed venomously.  "And who are you supposed to be, dressed up as ‘The Avenging Ghost?’  Why this absurd, masquerade?"

"You are more accurate in your description than you imagine, sir; but it could not be helped." The cloaked figure laughed back and shrugged then assumed a more serious demeanor.

 "I have no quarrel with you personally, fact is, captain Zunrogo has not outlived his usefulness; so be warned, I can be your benefactor or your nemesis, depending on your choice.  All I ask is that you forego your intention to end his life, and then perhaps, I can be persuaded to spare your life."

"How magnanimous of you…  How fortunate for me that you are considering sparing me.  Look, I'm trembling in fear." Lance Diostin responded with a sneer.

01-LANCE DIOSTIN JP 13

"Spare my life indeed!  A mortal is not yet born who can defeat me.  Tell His Lordship to go to blazes!"  He launched into a murderous assault, bringing his full fighting skill against the cloaked figure.

"His Lordship?" the figure parried Lance Diostin’s thrusts with ease.

"Don't play dumb with me!"  Infuriated, Lance Diostin fought with the fierceness of a tiger and the swiftness of a whirlwind, leaving no room for any further discussion or opportunity for truce.

This time, however, it was Lance Diostin who was clearly outmatched.  The ensuing pitched exchange was brief.  Too late, the invincibility of the cloaked figure was revealed to him but by then, in the blink of an eye, Lance Diostin found himself on the receiving end of a magnificent, powerful strike which left him unarmed, with his magnificent sword cast aside, shockingly almost insensate (unconscious, numbed, almost paralyzed) and near mortally wounded, at (inches from) the other's feet.  A dry, death rattle in his throat, still defiant, he demanded to know the identity of this worthy opponent who had bested him.  The figure, however, simply shook his head, and said: “Truth will be disclosed, when we face each other next. You are a great warrior with invincible prowess; therefore, I’m averse to the idea of heedlessly (recklessly, rashly) terminating your life.” He nodded, “first, however, I must have your word that you will, forsaking your aim, leave your sword behind and swiftly depart (flee). I have no doubt you equally excel in swimming and therefore, will reach the shore in safety, despite your (injures) wounds?”

Lance Diostin was intrigued with his opponent’s magnanimous gesture; besides which, a chance to again duel with this invincible foe was an enticement enough to convince him to at present capitulate, so reluctantly he nodded his head, acceding (ascending, agreeing) to the cloaked figure’s terms (stipulations, conditions).

“But how will I know it’s you, when I encounter you in the future?” He then, as if in afterthought, asked. The cloaked figure after a pensive thought, nodded, “Very well I will reveal my identity to you, if you wow (swear) to keeping it a secret from everyone, till then.”

Lance Diostin, who was famed for his honorable character (unblemished reputation), readily concurred and gave his solemn promise; however, nothing had prepared him for the shocking revelation he was about to witness next. He was absolutely aghast and his eyes wide with disbelief continued to stare at his opponent’s face that had been only briefly revealed to him. Lance Diostin, despite the intense pain, pulled himself upright as he chuckled and then, turning to face this remarkable being, shook his head. “Oh, you are good. You had me, had all of us, so completely duped!”

“Considering your impaired physical state, are you certain you can safely reach the shore?” The cloaked figure, disregarding this, impatiently asked and, having received another nod, and lance’s words, “I wouldn’t miss, not for anything, our next encounter.” Stepped aside to allow Lance Diostin to walk past him.  The cloaked figure’s eyes impassively (cooly) then followed Lance, who despite his grave injuries, with remarkable resilience, swiftly advanced to the edge of the deck.

Lance Diostin half turned his head, his gaze unreadable, to simply say, “Capital Channing is the domain (sphere) of ultimate (supreme) jeopardy (hazard, risk, peril) keep that in mind and stay safe; I bid you farewell, till our next encounter (combat, contest).”

02- LANCE DIOSTIN JP 18

Then nimbly, with a fluid grace dove off the edge, to quickly be engulfed (plunged, rushed) by the choppy waters of the river.

The cloaked figure lingered at the spot for a moment or two then pensively nodded his head, and turning away, precipitously advanced his steps down the stairs, to below deck; as he rushed down the corridor towards his cabin, he came face to face with another cloaked figure brandishing a bloody sword.

“Who the hell are you?” Bellowed the other masked, formidable opponent but then not waiting for an answer, he launched his murderous attack.

“No matter, you must die!”

 He was in fact the covert affiliate of a secret Brotherhood; known as Kaelan, who’d been all this time posing as one of the ordinary crewmen, called Zack, on board this vessel, going about undetected. One of the best agents of Kozurs, working as a double spy, had as well, carried orders from Lance Diostin to undermine Zunrogo’s plans.

Kaelan’s blade was dripping with blood as he’d just fought his way against the barricade, butchering countless to advance towards his objective. He had attacked Disaidun Agripe, dealt her a near mortal blow then reaching beneath her bodice (the upper part of woman’s dress or undergarment that covers the upper body), stole the letter from the secret pocket. The original one secured on him, he’d then replaced hers with the fake (bogus) letter.

Kaelan’s surplus orders had been, to deal with or, to cooperate (assist) with Lance Diostin, depending on the circumstances (outcome) back on deck, after Lance had incapacitated (vanquished) Zunrogo and the Lieutenant. He was rushing there to fight, rather, to inform Lance of the amended orders, that there was no longer any need to destroy the vessel along with everyone on board. A highly competent double agent, Kaelan’s real objective (the letter being switched) done, he was then simply to disappear for an indetermined period, supposedly, to report back (not just to Kozurs but also) to Black Molochs. 

The sudden encounter with this unknown masked man with his blade tainted with blood revealed to Kaelan that, something had gone terribly awry (amiss, wrong). 

An awful thought just then crossed Kaelan’s mind, as there were no sounds of battle above, in fact all was perfectly quiet. Still no time to worry, he’d launched his murderous assault to deal with, rather vanquish, this unexpected adversary (foe). But as the two fought on it soon became clear to Kaelan, just who the victor would be; the covert crewman ceasing an only opportunity, took to his heals with the enemy hot in pursuit. Once on deck, the quick fleeting look (glance) told Kaelan of the dire situation, rushing to the edge, he dove straight off the boat to disappear in the turbulent, foamy waters. A Good strong swimmer he was gone from sight within minutes. The other masked warrior, abandoning pursuit, quickly returned to his cabin.

                                                                                  ~

 

When the blackness lifted, Zunrogo with hazy eyes spotted (saw), Lance Diostin’s discarded heirloom sword in a pool of blood just a few feet away, and even though there was no sign of Lance Diostin, corpse or otherwise anywhere to be seen, he still presumed of Lance’s certain demise and sharply sat up.

Looking at his own bloodied sword, then back at Lance Diostin’s discarded blade, then over to Tizan who was still unconscious and collapsed against the mast, Zunrogo was now puzzled.  Unable to recollect (remember) exactly what or how it happened, he pieced all the probable set of circumstances, clues and facts to conclude that he must have somehow, before he lost consciousness, had dealt his opponent Lance Diostin, the mortal blow at the edge of the deck, and his corpse must have tumbled into the fast flowing waters of the river. Ignoring the painful throbbing top of his head and temples, he slowly rose to his feet and tottered over to pick up Lance Diostin’s heirloom sword, the irrefutable proof of the foe’s demise.

03- LANCE DIOSTIN'S DISCARDED HEIRLOOM-SWORD

Studying the blade’s edge and noticing a fissure (cleft) in it, he wondered, “Such force… Could I have done that? Did I slew him?” he marveled, wondering, as his fingers lightly traced the obvious indentation (crack, cleft, fracture). 

The next instant his face fell in a frown, “This is terrible…This is not what supposed to have happened. Blast!”  Besides, he needed Lance Diostin alive for questioning.

“How could I have been so reckless, or driven to such desperation, to have taken this adverse course? Yet I cannot recollect how …” Baffled by the mystery and angry at this obvious set-back, he gingerly caressed the large, pulsating bump on the back of his head then brought his hand around to look with a disconcerted eye at his blood-soaked fingers.

 “Strange, I clearly remember how I got this wound but everything after that my mind is a complete blank.”

He shook his head.  “Ouch!  Don't do that again.”  He inwardly admonished self, for his carelessness.

Zunrogo’s brief scrutiny of his body revealed numerous lacerations, gashes, and bruises, none of which were particularly serious, except one on his left thigh.  He made a mental note to have this one sewn up, for the gash was too deep for the flesh to bind on its own.  Thank goodness it’d missed the blood vessel!  For now, he tore some strips off his shirt and wrapped them tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding as he looked once more at Lance Diostin’s sword.  He remembered how he had got this wound as well.

“Why is my memory so selectively clouded about the last set of events?  What in blazes happened?”  This mental fog was most disconcerting for him.

Just then Tizan's stirring drew Zunrogo's attention.  Rushing over to the Lieutenant's side, he knelt and helped Tizan sit up.

 "I thought I'd lost you for good; now there, take it easy."  His manner was unusually friendly.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." Tizan smiled, echoing of the captain's good humor.  Then an unexpected, faint groan escaped his lips, “Uggh…The hammering in my head!" 

Shamefaced, Tizan gave a darting glance at Zunrogo, for in all these years this was the first time Tizan had complained about anything.

"So, you're made of flesh and blood after all." Zunrogo affectionately patted Tizan's shoulder then rose to his feet with a grimace.

Tizan's eye fell on Lance Diostin’s heirloom sword.  "You have his sword; is he dead, Captain?"

04--TZAN JP

"Deader than a doornail." came the dispassionate answer from Zunrogo.

"Well then, sir, your reputation should be greatly enhanced after this."

 Disregarding the pain shooting across his chest, Tizan picked himself up off of the deck.

"More than you can imagine." Zunrogo donned (gave) a grin of satisfaction.

"But I thought you wanted him alive?"  Tizan ripped off his wet shirt and unbuckled his breastplate.

"It couldn't be helped." Zunrogo shrugged, his gaze still fixed on Lance Diostin’s sword.

"But how did you manage it?  If you don't mind my saying so, the last I recall you were in dire straits.  He was on the point of vanquishing you."

Tizan's direct question hit home as he again recalled that same time.  “How indeed… Yet somehow, I had turned the evil tide in my favor and changed the outcome. I’m here, aren’t I?” Zunrogo pensively looked away. 

“Too bad I can't recollect any details.” Zunrogo then simply shrugged and said no more.

“The concussion must have caused this temporary amnesia (memory loss). Though it’s most irritating,” Zunrogo inwardly reasoned, “perhaps it’ll all come back, soon, I hope. Hah, meanwhile, my nemesis is dead.”  He took comfort in that thought and walked to the edge of the deck, looked down then cast his gaze far, at the barely visible snaking shoreline perimeter of the (wide) vast expanse of the fast-flowing river.

"Perhaps, Captain, when things are straightened out, you will enlighten me as to how you defeated so competent a foe." Tizan misinterpreted Zunrogo's reluctance as modesty, had snuck up behind him, to add; he thereon continued to be a pesky nuisance.

Looking back to his Lieutenant, Zunrogo nodded distractedly then smiled wryly when he saw how oblivious Tizan was to the pain of the multiple cuts and bruises on his limbs and chest.  His eye caught one slash, that was bleeding profusely.

 "You'd best take care of that wound." he pointed it out with his chin.

"I still have plenty of blood to spare." Tizan pressed his shirt against it observing more closely Lance’s heirloom-sword, which Zunrogo still held onto.  When he caught sight of the indentation at the edge of blade, he let out his breath in a long, involuntary gasp, "Wow!"

He looked up at Zunrogo, with an admiring gaze.  “Had he really done this?  I had no idea he could muster such force.”

Zunrogo ignored his reaction, looked around him and commented thoughtfully, "We have quite a bit of cleaning up to do, Tizan.  Do you think you're up to the task?"

"And why not…  Since when few cuts and bruises ever slowed me down, Captain?  I'm no old woman!"  Tizan indignantly sprung to his feet but the profuse bleeding from his wound constrained him, nonetheless, to do something about it.  Cutting some more strips, this time from the shirt of one of the corpses, he wound them tightly around his wound, giving it a haphazard, but effective, dressing.  At least now he could work unhindered.  He knew what had to be done without being told and he set too with closest perimeter, following the set routine, piling up the carcasses in (heaps) groups of two or three and finding heavy objects to tie them for weight.  He was ready to tackle the next batch (of corpses further away), when Zunrogo grasped his arm.

"No, Tizan, all this can wait."  He indicated with a nod of his head for Tizan to follow, as he swiftly (descended the stairs and) disappeared below decks.

 

 

(END OF SECTION 35)

                                                                                                 ~