11-LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - EVIL PERSONIFIED - SECTION 7

Looking at his useless son, Zakhertan Yozdek, despite his misgivings, was reminded of the prince’s beloved, and now deceased mother, Lady Elin Yozdek.

01- LADY ELIN YOZDEK (2)jp

 

Herleif bore some resemblance to Lady Elin; for one thing they both had penetrating, honey-brown eyes, and long lustrous auburn (chestnut) hair with loose, sheen curls. Lady Elin had been the only woman who had come close to earning not only Zakhertan’s deep affection but also his unqualified respect, which was no small feat by any means. Though Zakhertan had taken several wives since, none had come close to comparing to her noble stature, brilliance of mind, beauty or sensuality or the other special talents and attributes she possessed. Still, it did not redeem (deliver) her from a grievous, gruesome end at the hands of her admiring husband when Zakhertan had found it necessary to be free to marry Idona, then Prime Minister Adelram’s daughter.

This had been but one of the many steps he had taken towards the realization of his grand design, and all of them had required sacrifices of one sort or the other.

“All the more is the pity,” he mused, studying Herleif’s face, “the boy has gained none of her (Lady Elin’s) characteristics when he inherited her looks.” Zakhertan knew that Prince Herleif had benefited nonetheless from his remorse at killing Lady Elin and that this had been yet another reason for his tolerance, of this unworthy offspring, this exceptionally long. But all that was going to change now. His heart once more turned to stone, Zakhertan glared at his son.

Without the Sovereign's permission to speak, prince Herleif, burdened with documents, had stood rigidly in his abject stance even as Zakhertan moved unexpectedly away from the window and came swiftly towards him. Zakhertan not uttering a word, circled his son like a predatory beast (or a hunting hawk), his steps coming to an abrupt halt, when his back was Infront of the closed door. In sharp contrast to his son, the Sovereign presented the very picture of might and authority that could inspire awe and fear in any man. Flashing in Zakhertan Yozdek’s icy, penetrating pupils just then was a single, somber calculation that caused Prince Herleif’s hairs on the back of his neck to bristle (stand on end).

"Well, what is it you want?"  The words, outwardly innocuous, were harsh and abrasive, their tone speaking volumes full of disapproval and contempt. Zakhertan noted with disdain how Prince Herleif had involuntarily flinched at the sound of his voice then as the fear was quickly mastered and the prince spun sharply about to face him and bowed respectfully, Zakhertan felt a certain satisfaction but hid his amused smile.

Prince Herleif, formally addressing his father, briefly stated the purpose of his visit.

"Very well," Zakhertan consented brusquely. "A few minutes, that’s all, I will spare you."  He gestured sharply, beckoning his son closer to the desk as he returned to sit once more in his plush chair.

With the outward appearance of patient parent, Zakhertan with a stern face heard prince Herleif out, all the while lending only a disinterested ear to his son's theoretical babbling. Prince Herleif on his part relayed in measured and lucid speech how, having been beset by disturbing dreams, he had consulted the positioning of the stars in addition to the oracle provided by the bones. To be ascertained (to ascertain the facts), he had shaken the bones for the second and third time only to reach in every instance the same outcome for the reading:  his illustrious father Zakhertan Yozdek and the Wenjenkun kingdom faced a bad omen. Soon, (in a noticeably short while) after a Nationwide upheaval, the definite downfall of the present regime was forecasted. Braving his most esteemed, sovereign father Zakhertan’s wrath, therefore, duty bound Herleif had come forward to forewarn his Majesty of this fact. The prince then asked permission to elaborate on the details necessary to substantiate his claim.

02- PRINCE HERLEIF YOZDEK (4)jp

Much to his delight, Herleif received a begrudging, stern nod from Zakhertan. Quickly he unfolded the first of his charts and proceeded to give an interpretation to the intricate geometrical diagrams and particulars which he had meticulously drawn, marked, and outlined.

Glancing at these, Zakhertan Yozdek noted how the drafting was so fine the piece could be considered an exceptional work of art solely on its own merits. “Why couldn’t his dastardly (burdensome baggage) son akin have shown, skill with military charts? At least then his talent could have been utilized, instead of this absurd gibberish, hogwash.”  Though he would never own up to it, Zakhertan was in fact, quite adept at astrology himself, having employed it during his youth many times to justify actions he had wished to take. Presently, taking in the details at-a-glance, he had briefly deciphered it already for himself, long before Prince Herleif had finished his explanation, inwardly concluding that some of Herleif’s interpretation had been right on the mark. There was one curious variance (discrepancy) however that Herleif had entirely missed; there were not one but two stars, directly positioned one behind the other, that it could easily be misconstrued as one. The juxtaposition of planets and stars meanwhile, were quite precise, right down to the birth of the new star, already much brighter than the star of Zakhertan Yozdek’s, which was ever so slowly moving into the ruling position in the constellation that governed the state of Wenjenkun. The future the fates foretold was quite obviously that of his dynasty's downfall at the hands of one, which would then be followed by another, a rising Sovereign to be. And the timing of one would be quick but not the other, at least not as quick as Herleif had predicted.    

Zakhertan at this point reflected how just last night in the Royal Observatory he had discerned (perceived) this new manifestation in the constellation but was disappointed to note that, its position and timing precluded it from being in any way related to the birth of Prince Magnian. Now that Zakhertan saw the chart laid out in front of him like this, he noted with slight trepidation, how close the first star was to the house of the former rulers. Could it be? No! Zakhertan dismissed the notion instantly. Even if he could have survived, the likelihood of that happening was ridiculously far-fetched. Zakertan chastised self. Besides, when had he ever attached any credence to such superstitious nonsense…  Ravings like these were useful only for amusement and for manipulating the gullible, nothing more.   

 Zakhertan turned his attention back to Prince Herleif who had just then unraveled the second diagram on the desk. This one was exceptionally crafted as well. “The wimp has a real talent here; too bad it is wasted.”  Taking no stock in what Herleif was saying, Zakhertan’s conciliatory mood abruptly dissipated, and he disdainfully scoffed, “So what if Herleif showed promise, had excelled in the black arts of Astrology and Alchemy? This vast knowledge would not serve him at all in the end.”      

With a bitter taste in his mouth, Zakhertan Yozdek recalled Herleif’s spitefulness and how his shrewish and ruthless applications of his knowledge and power had, in the past, won his son more enmity than praise.   

Crown Prince Herleif meanwhile having misinterpreted Zakhertan’s habitual inert mask (which Zakhertan wore at such boring times) and encouraged by his father's unusual tolerance, pegged these signs as interest. Consequently, with an overflowing enthusiasm that colored his words, he began to elaborate further on his hypothesis. Herleif had never known anything resembling to affection from Zakhertan Yozdek and was now having difficulty properly gauging such an alien concept. This was the closest he had come to an approval by his cold-hearted parent, and he had erroneously assumed that, for the first time, he was making some headway in communicating with Zakhertan.     

At one-point Zakhertan with an unreadable expression rose from his seat and hands clasped behind his back, walked over to the window to again stare at the outside. As there had been no command for Herleif to stop, the prince had continued with his incessant babblings. The prince Herleif’s bewilderment at Zakhertan’s reticence (silence) was shared by Neru who, having just finished with his task of burning the most trivial of the day's documents was standing at unease (disquietly) in a corner of the room mentally noting all that was being said as he awaited the Sovereign's next command. Zakhertan at present appeared temporarily distracted by one of the brightly plumed songbirds which, after finishing its bath, had alighted on the windowsill to fluff its feathers and dry off thoroughly.   

Contrary to appearance however, Zakhertan from the corner of his eye (in a side view) had observed (noted) how Herleif had quickly untied the knot binding of the last scroll and, with a completely inappropriate flourish, unfurled it (across) on top the desk. Instantly Zakhertan’s attention was riveted to the stiletto that, previously hidden in the scroll, had now been exposed. It was the most common, innocuous kind of penknife or a carving knife; it was not a weapon of choice for any would be assassin. Still facing the window, Zakhertan waited to see what his worthless son would do next. Prince Herleif, nonplused, stood frozen in his place, fear gripping his heart.   

Without turning, Zakhertan Yozdek barked, "Go ahead, pick it up!" 

03- ZAKHERTAN YOZDEDK  (57)JP

All at once the color drained from the prince’s already pallid but now completely ashen face. Trembling from head to toe like a leaf in a gale, he fell to his knees and repeatedly beat his forehead on the floor, vehemently professing his innocence in a choked voice. "I don't know how it got there, your Majesty. I do not. I did not put it there. “    

“I have been set up. Please, father, I swear, I had no knowledge of this. "He continued these denials in the contemptible, quaking croaks that further grated on Zakhertan’s irate nerves.  

“Just as I thought,” Zakhertan Yozdek highly incensed, stared at the giant marble legendary warrior stationed by the stone bridge thirty feet away in the garden, furious with his son for his abhorrent, self-debasing beseeching. Yet this was worse, far worse, than if Prince Herleif had indeed been behind this juvenile attempt. He might have even forgiven Herleif had he the backbone to seriously try assassinating him.    

Zakhertan snorted in utter disgust, “This is unforgivable; he is being made the fool. How did it come to this; who would dare make such a mockery of my, albeit an imbecile, royal spawn (offspring)? I should crush this inexcusable insect now and be done with him, just as I will crush those who are behind this reprehensible farce. “    

 "You are a disgrace!” he turned and snarled at his son; teeth bared. He raised his clenched left fist as if to strike and pulverize Herleif’s skull but abruptly held back, his rage still mounting. In a split second his right hand snatched the knife and flung it with incredible force at the songbird; so agile and quick was this move that the unfortunate birdie did not stand a prayer of a chance. Just as it had spread its wings to take a flight, the blade pierced its chest through and (before its last breath) hurled it backward, pinning it tightly to the ledge.  

"Guards,” The roaring command caused the dumbfounded Neru to jump several feet up in the air. Coming to his senses, he could only cast pitying eyes upon the quivering prince Herleif as two guards rushed in.   

"Take him away!"  Zakhertan pointed to the crown prince, still on his knees. "And give him fifty blows with the heavy staff for good measure, no less and no more."  Zakhertan knew that the hundred strokes that were required in this situation would prematurely kill the miserable wretch.    

“No; death will not come to you that mercifully Herleif, for you have not yet outlived your usefulness.” Zakhertan glowering at Herleif mused.   

Reluctantly Zakhertan also had to admit that, for now, he needed the prince alive for the stability of the succession until the toddler Magnian's chances of survival were assured. With certain distaste in his mouth, he watched the indignant, yet cowardly Herleif being roughly (man-handled) moved away by the guards. They had gripped him by the arms and, being much taller than the prince, they were holding him several inches off the ground.  

“Of course, you could never inspire respect in anyone, could you?” Zakhertan scoffed then signaled the guards (a slight lifting of the index finger) to wait. Instantly they halted in their tracks.    

"Thank your lucky stars that you are being dealt with so leniently."  Zakhertan strode over to pin his menacing glare to his son’s terrified face. "With each stroke of the staff I want you to contemplate on just why you are being punished. Do you understand me, boy?”    

"Now, get him out of my sight."    

For a man who had celebrated his ascension (ascent) to adulthood some five years ago, being called a 'boy' in front of others was a most demeaning insult, but Prince Herleif completely missed this fine point, as well as his larger, more grievous failure.  

"Father, I'm innocent! Please father, please hear me out." He pleaded as he was being unceremoniously hauled to the dungeons.

    

                                                                                 ~    

 

(END OF SECTION 7)

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 6

Nevetsecnuac had felt a twinge of pain as the blade had, just then, carelessly, or perhaps deliberately; cut a thin sliver into the flesh across his throat, making the blood trickle down both sides of his neck.

Unflinching, Nevetsecnuac smiled at Zonar Kuntzu.  "I'm ready for another bout (session), in fact I’ve been looking forward to break (end) this tiresome monotony; however, you must first excuse my unceremonious greeting of you."  He then shifted to lessen Zonar ‘s hold, but try as he might, he found himself solidly pinned, trapped under the other's oppressive hold.  Worse still, he could feel the blood coursing in his veins gradually ebbing (slowing down, fading)  robbing his vitals, his entire body, of the essential lifegiving force; that same instance, he felt as if slipping into a catatonic state, limbs weighed down like a solid rock or a huge bronze pot in defiance of his will,  refusing to budge even in the slightest.

Zonar Kuntzu seemed oblivious to this impediment; he only noted the fleeting shadow of concern registering in Nevetsecnuac's eyes and so, Zonar grinned, "You hesitate? Lest you fear, I have only lost miniscule faction of my powers?"

“Well, do you wish to fight me or not?  I never pegged you for a spineless opponent!” He let go and stood away. “I’ll give you a headway in strike, go on!”

Nevetsecnuac wished to respond but he could neither part his lips, nor was he able to utter the slightest sound; instead, only a frustrated, guttural (rasping, rough) gurgling came from his throat.

 

01- ZONAR CHALLENGES NEVETSECNUAC  ONCE MORE

 

Zonar’s subsequent response was baffling to Nevetsecnuac, especially since the other looked as if offended (aggrieved, angry, hostile) for a fleeting moment or two- by some perceived, brazen, insulting declaration (challenge) issued forth from Nevetsecnuac’s mind.

"You are far too reckless or brave, goading me so; nevertheless, I’m in no hurry to end your life, not just yet.  Not before I have some fun, but I fear it may prove to be no contest at all and, worse still, it may even bore me."  Pursing his lips disdainfully, Zonar, so uncharacteristically, coldly ejected and then shrugged.

 "After all, I do possess an unfair advantage over you.  Or have you so readily forgotten how I'm now very well acquainted with your fighting style, as well, know your innate (inadequacies) limitations? “

“That's right, suffice to say that what we shared before, glorious as it may have seemed to you, was only a trifling test run.  What you encountered then, and found so hard to defend against, even after the loss of my talisman, was but one twentieth of my force and ability."  Suddenly Zonar’s countenance turned dark and his expression fierce.

 "Damn you!" he swore, gritting his teeth.

"Why the hell did you not stay where you were safe, instead of paying a pilgrimage to that worthless Heaven's Gate Spiritual Temple, the den of mercenaries and spies?  That vile, cursed place should have been razed to the ground long ago, along with all the rest.  You thought they would be worthy of your trust because they were duty-bound (obligated), functioning under the cloak of faith?  Now, regrettably, you will have to be slayed.  You will all have to be eradicated (eliminated), including your newborn twin son and daughter."

Zonar grimaced wryly, then added thoughtfully, "Yes, save for one; your wife, who has been promised a safe delivery into the hands of Emperor Deng Hedenko of Kontu, by my Sovereign Lord (of Korion), therefore, sending me on this execrable quest (odious mission).  But alas, I his loyal subject have been entrusted with this task."

 

02- EMPEROR OF KONTU DENG HEDNEKO

 

"What!  Lord Asger (Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon) and the twins will all be killed?  My wife… my precious, beautiful Teuquob, will be at the mercy of Deng Hedenko, that rancorous (malign) villain?"

Zonar’s announcement (declaration) had sent a terrible lightning bolt (strike) through Nevetsecnuac's brain; next, an all-consuming, searing rage had coursed through his veins and exploded in his chest.  His soul recoiling in terror, he clenched his fists until his knuckles (turned white) cracked.

Externally, Nevetsecnuac’s face had contorted somewhat tragically, his eyes revealing only a fleeting glimpse of the raging, conflicting storm that tore up his spirit (core); with

remarkable will thence, he checked this rising fury that threatened to unhinge (unbalance) him. “No,” He determinedly rejected the present reality; and moments later common sense had edified (enlightened, informed) him to the truth, that this person before him, was someone other than Zonar.  Though he bore Zonar’s (likeness) physical form, had similar eccentric (quirky, odd) attributes- his innate character, his demeanor nevertheless was slightly off, and it could be said even quite odd (alien).

Nevetsecnuac could not rightly pinpoint the reason, but his intuition, the inner dread surmounted with the foreboding feeling just then, had thus constricted (confined, held, caged) his soul in a primordial vice (pure evil).

  

"I'll release you from the spell (incantation) that binds you, soon enough," Zonar meanwhile, had promised hardheartedly (stonily). "So that we may resume where we’d left off; however, I trust that, before your glorious end, you will furnish me with one more memorable battle."

"You'll have that, and more!" Nevetsecnuac hissed, his tongue now released from the oppressive hold to the utter amazement of Zonar.  For Nevetsecnuac somehow with his innate prowess (ability), had broken the spell. 

03 - NEVETSECNUAC BREAKS THE SPELL

“You never cease to amaze me.” But before Zonar could react and shoot out searing beams from his pupils, pre-emptively Nevetsecnuac's two fingers of his right hand had targeted Zonar's blazing eyes while the left hand grasped Zonar's wrist clutching the hilt of his sword.  In a contest of strength next, the blade was forced away from Nevetsecnuac’s throat and cast off to one side, as Nevetsecnuac simultaneously rolled his body, to pin Zonar under him on the wet ground.

“I will not be underestimating you again.” Zonar's glaring expression mutely warned.

"Give me one, just one good reason why I should spare your life." Nevetsecnuac demanded through gritted teeth as his right hand gripped Zonar's throat in a death hold.

"What duress, what measure of political liability (millstone) has Hedenko over your Sovereign that your liege would force such a cowardly onus (to murder innocent children and to abduct woman for delivery) onto you, his loyal subject?"

Half blinded by the blood oozing from his eye sockets, Zonar remained unrelenting and defiantly spat into Nevetsecnuac's face, gurgling, "Go to hell!"

Then, by no means helpless, in the ensuing contest of strength Zonar, the summoned sword’s hilt once more in his grip, his legs tightly wound around Nevetsecnuac's waist, the two, interlocked as they were, rolled until at one point they both went over the precipice and, after falling some measure as they scraped the jagged, protruding rocks, plummeted headlong into the depths of the lake.

Zonar, being the first to be freed from the choking, trapping net of submarine growth, swam ashore then, brandishing his sword in readiness to hack, watched, and waited for his adversary to surface next.  His fiery eyes, miraculously mended, combed the crystalline depths beneath the gently undulating waves; suddenly however, Nevetsecnuac sprang up out of the water and somersaulting in the air over Zonar's head, landed on his feet squarely behind him.

Turning around in a flash to confront Nevetsecnuac, Zonar grimaced at him wryly.  "I shall certainly miss your amusing calisthenics.  Perhaps Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, your aged, crippled teacher, could be persuaded to perform the same; that is, if he survives the first encounter with me."

Zonar was being deliberately provocative, hiding the fact that he had, in fact, felt a secret empathy and lasting admiration for that honorable old Lord, in view of all that he had heard and learned about him.

"Don't flatter yourself with your overrated confidence," came, Nevetsecnuac's hot retort.  Narrowing his eyes next, he demanded, "So, you still want to go through with this?"

"You expected less?"

"Then I shall be forced to stop you.  This time, however, you won't be cheating death so easily." Nevetsecnuac warned coldly.

In fact, he was stalling to attain more information about the informants, the spies inferred by Zonar, though he was not entirely sure how he would convey this vital message to Lord Asger Zhon once this adversary was bested (defeated) in combat.

04- NEVETSECNUAC

“Perhaps I would encounter another brave, loyal soul like Fradel Rurik Korvald, whom I can implicitly trust.” His reflections were just then rudely interrupted by Zonar's roaring laughter, "You?  You think you're capable of stopping me?”

After which he knitted his brows and bellowed at Nevetsecnuac, “Look who is overrating their skill!"

 Zonar pivoted away, then swung back again snorting angrily, "You talk so big, but what makes you think you're still good enough?"

 Zonar’s eyes (with no evidence of prior injury) completely restored to norm, he now narrowed his eyes and fiendishly warned: “If you had any sense, you would beg for mercy or flee to safety.  But I know your kind all too well.  You're so full of foolish notions of honor and idealism; you’ll never condescend (deign) to a reprehensible recourse (alternative, options) however reasonable, however sensible. “

“You are too foolhardy to concede (admit)to the truth, of what lies starkly before you, the evident hopelessness of your situation.  Blinded by faith you will hasten towards your death; go through hellfire, unflinchingly, wouldn't you, to achieve your goal?"

Zonar spat out the irate words, not giving Nevetsecnuac (single) any chance to respond.  "This you would do, despite the overwhelming odds against you, counting on posterity to log (register) your fame, relying only on Heaven's might to assist you in your righteous cause.  Hah!  Foolish martyrs that your kind always are, you would hasten to your death, never coming to grips with the Universal Truth: that man stands alone, fights alone, and dies alone, without any interference or least regard from Heaven.  After all, why should they take any heed in the mundane affairs of insignificant straw dogs like you?  One pitted against many?  Hah!  Courage and ability alone, however admirable, are not nearly enough when confronting a cunning, ruthless, formidable force.  Patience, good planning, strategy, and proper reinforcements are what are needed here most.  And don't think I don't know why you are headed to the Capital, Channing. “

He shook a reproachful finger at Nevetsecnuac.

"But I ask you, without all this that I have enumerated, how do you propose, I mean what makes you think that you will succeed where others have failed, and failed miserably?  You think that you're invincible?"

Nevetsecnuac just then was reminded of the magic brush, which Zonar had earlier gifted him and his had absentmindedly reached into his inner pocket (to retrieve it); but his hand failed to find it. It was gone!

“What are you searching for?”  Zonar growled.

Another evidence of a sure discrepancy in his character.  Nevetsecnuac, musing, looked down. Furthermore, Zonar’s inability to detect his thoughts (read, decipher his mind), confirmed Nevetsecnuac’s earlier suspicion that this person before him was only an impostor and a poor impersonator of Zonar at that, though assuredly, he was an assassin.

Nevetsecnuac sharply looked up to now say this, when Zonar just then clearly irritated, held up his hand, keeping any response from Nevetsecnuac. With his darkened countenance, he simply shook his head and next, scowling, looked away; but then shrugging his shoulders, he muttered: "Besides, what's the big urgency, eh?"

05-ZONAR KUNTZU -  (17)

Directing his gaze back at Nevetsecnuac he asked, "What are a few more years of waiting when twenty have already passed?  Unless” He opened his eyes wide. "Unless the secret had been revealed to you only recently…  Ah, now I understand.  It all makes sense."

Zonar nodded his head as conflicting emotions surged in his chest.  Once he, too, experienced Nevetsecnuac's type of impatience.

When he addressed Nevetsecnuac anew, his tone lacked the fire and brimstone, the remonstration, anger, and spite and was, instead, sympathetic and grave.

"Yes I, too, hold loyalty and filial piety as the duties most paramount to every man.  Though I care little for the affairs of your Country, I respect what you are aiming to achieve.”

“It is because I understand that I am now prepared to give you, sir, this leeway, this last chance, so that you may fulfill your life's objective.  All I ask, no, I demand in return is your promise of non-interference.  It is imperative that this condition be met for… then,”

“No, hear me out, first!"  He froze Nevetsecnuac's response with a gesture of his hand.

"Just take me on my word when I say that I cannot fail in my duty to my Sovereign Lord for, if I did, then dire, irreversible consequences would befall my Country. Fact is, we are forced by circumstance to bid our time; any premature deployment of our armies will prove disastrous, to say the least."  He had absentmindedly murmured this last phrase to himself as he had looked away then, reverting his piercing gaze back on Nevetsecnuac, he stressed, "Abide by this condition and I will spare your life and allow you to be on your way.  Otherwise, sir, I will not be held (accountable) responsible for what I will then be forced to do, for I have sworn to obliterate all opposition, however innocent, that stands in my way.  Have I made myself clear?"

"Perfectly…"  Nevetsecnuac answered sharply. “But it is most offensive to me, sir, that you would even consider proposing such an option to me.  More injurious still, you clearly expected an affirmative response."

 His voice rose with his mounting outrage, "How can I sacrifice the lives of those whom I'm sworn to protect?  How can I stand idly by and let you live to cause injury to Lord Asger Zhon, to my innocent son and daughter, and to let you abduct my wife and cast her into a fate far worse than death?  I will fight you, fight to the end of Earth if needs be, to prevent this from ever happening!"

"You sorely disappoint me, young man." Zonar's thunderous, reproachful voice interrupted Nevetsecnuac.  "Just whom do you bear your allegiance to?  Answer me this; what has been your prime objective all along, if not to avenge your forefathers?  For assured success, you should have hardened your heart.  Are you willing to risk it all for the sake of a mere woman, and an old man, and puny children?  Mark my words, this weakness will be your undoing."

"I'll be risking nothing since I do not intend to lose to you or any other.  Hence, your ominous prediction, sir, is unwarranted and farfetched."  Nevetsecnuac, though perplexed, retorted angrily.

"I thought I understood you well, but it seems I have erred." Zonar groaned, gritting his teeth.  Then, shifting his body impatiently, he scoffed, "I've wasted far too much precious time on you as it is, more than I cared to."

He was about to launch his deadly assault on Nevetsecnuac when, forcing restraint on himself, he stayed his hand and commanded, "Halt!  The Tokiro Code of the Warrior will not permit me to take on an unarmed foe."

Disregarding Nevetsecnuac's protest, he shot up into the air to land on the crest of the hill, disappearing shortly after.

"I've had just about enough of your stalling tactics.  I dare you to fight me now!" Nevetsecnuac shouted after him then, following suit, launched himself onto the hilltop.

Spotting Zonar in the distance, he rushed after him to engage him.

 Zonar, at first spreading the distance between them, swiftly delved into, then out of the previously hidden, deep cavern, to now stand at its gaping mouth with his feet firmly planted wide apart on the hard ground. With one difference, he was also armed with two sheathed swords, as he waited in a menacing pose with a scornful smile plastered on his lips, for Nevetsecnuac to catch up.

When Nevetsecnuac reached the right proximity, Zonar, shouted, “Catch!”, and in a flash, hurled one of the swords at him.

Nevetsecnuac, still running, reached out his hand and grasped the hilt of the sword in mid-air as it was about to sail by, instantly unsheathing it.

 "But what's this?"  Nevetsecnuac was taken aback, for this was not the sword he was expecting to have.  Rather it was Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon’s ancestral sword, the very one he had entrusted into Fradel Rurik Korvald's care.  He could not hide the fleeting horror in his eyes as he looked up to rivet his fiery, questioning gaze on Zonar.  Holding it up, he demanded in a fierce shout, "How did you come by this?"

The response was a roaring, earth-shaking laughter after which Zonar gnashed his teeth and confirmed Nevetsecnuac's worst fear, "Your head will soon be joining that of the man whose name you have assumed."

"And what possible danger did he pose to you, you are vile, despicable assassin?" Nevetsecnuac cursed furiously, his face knotted with rage.

"He was on his way to join up with Lord Asger Thuxur Marrog Zhon, was he not? What difference would it make, then, where he expired?" Zonar retorted with sarcasm and a bemused smile as he shrugged his shoulders and scoffed.

06-NEVETSECNUAC  (32)

"You…You will pay for this outrage murdering swine!" Nevetsecnuac, in a passionate fury brandishing his sword, launched his deadliest assault on Zonar.

The opponent swiftly deflected the blow and, in a twirl, hacked back at Nevetsecnuac.

Nevetsecnuac, rendering this lethal onslaught ineffective, averted the sword's successive deadly strikes, then somersaulted into position to thrust the blade into Zonar's side; only to have Zonar swerve nimbly and miss it by a sliver.

The next instant they were interlocked in the fiercest, most fatal combat yet, that defied all description and made their previous clashes seem more like mere child's play.

Zonar proved as good as his boast and, during subsequent countless rounds, Nevetsecnuac, despite his competence, suffered severe wounds and serious, deep lacerations to his legs, arms, chest and face.

In the ensuing twenty or more bouts of fray, as Nevetsecnuac effectively confronted (tackled) Zonar's invincible prowess, even though he deflected a multitude of deadly blows, thrusts and strikes and, with his superb skill and agility, held his own for a long time, to later succeed in inflicting some serious wounds and slashes on Zonar, in the end, with his strength slowly ebbing, to his dismay Nevetsecnuac was forced to concede to the possibility of his probable (foreseeable) defeat.

Suddenly however, the images of his beloved (his uncle, wife, and children) manifesting in his mind’s eye, anew regenerated his fortitude and zeal.  Letting go a most fearsome, blood-curdling shout, Nevetsecnuac ducked, dived then executed his most brilliant, incredible maneuver yet, to in one lightning sweep of the blade sever (hack) Zonar's head at the neck (collar).

The bloody head, cleared off the torso, tumbled onto the ground and rolled some ways before being arrested by a rock.

Nevetsecnuac barely had time to reflect on his success, however, when, to his amazement and great horror, he witnessed the decapitated body of Zonar slowly rising from the ground to advance towards where the bloodied head lay still.  The head, meanwhile, quavered then, dislodged from the ground, simply hurled up and joined with the severed stump.

07 -ZONAR KUNTZU - 2 (33)

The head now on the nape and perfectly aligned, the bloody line sizzling and emitting a blue iridescence, subsequently dissolved, fused (bonded, merged) with the body.

Once more a whole being, Zonar suddenly opened his eyes wide and, turning burrowed his fiery gaze into Nevetsecnuac.

With a snarl on his lips he declared, "Fool!  You can't kill me!  Don’t you know you can't kill an immortal?”

“Ha!  Ha!  Hah!  Your best and only recourse would have been, is to take a flight… to scram. Now, I'll have your head and, your soul will be condemned for all eternity rot in Hell!"

Throwing his head back, Zonar first howled like a wolf, and then with an eerily laugh, launched anew his murderous assault on (a tad stunned) Nevetsecnuac.

 

"I'll show you how even an immortal can be killed!"  Though disheartened for a spell, Nevetsecnuac bravely thwarted each consecutive blow then shifted to an offensive with more lethal strikes. During the seemingly eternal, succession (series) of intense, pitched scuffle, Nevetsecnuac, nevertheless, soon realized that he could not exhaust this formidable foe even after hundreds more such skirmishes, let alone vanquish him.

 Same could not be said of Nevetsecnuac, for the incessant fierce combat eventually taking its toll, his stamina ebbed, and he was once more forced to fight defensively.

 In this dire circumstance, before Nevetsecnuac could further retaliate or utilize his only viable option to flee, Zonar, at lightning speed wielding three consecutive strikes with his indestructible sword, dealt Nevetsecnuac’s fate an irreversible, calamitous turn.

The first decisive blow broke the blade of Lord Asger’s ancestral sword, as if it were a tender twig, into two halves.  The second blow came from the hilt of Zonar's sword. It struck so hard on Nevetsecnuac's top of the head that it split-open an inch deep gash in his skull.  As Nevetsecnuac fought against disorientation, excruciating, throbbing pain, the dizzying, whirling, fast failing vision (eyesight), Zonar, glaring venomously at Nevetsecnuac, in a third strike, swung his sword wide to... Before Nevetsecnuac could ask, “Could this be the end?”  Whoosh … The raw blade in an instant severed Nevetsecnuac's head clean through at the nape of his neck.

 

(END OF SECTION 6)

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