Chapter 246 Blight Unleashed

Chapter 246 Blight Unleashed
Klaus tore through the archway first. His rusted broadsword was a blur, carving a brutal path through the surviving guards who had been too close to the melting metal. Riven and his scaled warriors followed, their feral roars mixing with the sharp, elegant strikes of Cassian’s vampires.

I stepped over the threshold, leaving the muddy killing field behind.

The air here tasted different. It lacked the smell of wet pine and dirt.

We had breached the walls, but the courtyard was not empty.

Less than fifty yards away, standing between us and the towering inner keep, was the core of the Imperial army. Hundreds of elite infantry formed a massive, flawless phalanx.

From a high stone terrace above them, General Draven looked down. His armor was scorched, his face a mask of desperate fury. He raised his hand, holding a glowing golden amulet.

"Activate the wards!" Draven roared.

The pristine white marble beneath our feet suddenly vibrated.

A blinding, golden light erupted from the deep seams in the stone. A solid wall of white-hot fire shot up from the glowing lines, rising twenty feet into the air. It cut the courtyard cleanly in half, completely separating our vanguard from the Imperial phalanx.

The heat was instantaneous and unbearable. An Outcast warrior who had charged too far forward screamed as the white fire caught his arm.

"Fall back!" Klaus yelled, grabbing my waist and pulling me roughly away from the blinding heat.

The Vampires hissed, shielding their sensitive eyes from the intense light. Riven dragged the wounded warrior backward, his yellow eye wide with panic.

"They are trapped behind the fire!" Cassian shouted over the roaring flames. His velvet coat was singed. "If we cannot cross, the archers on the upper balconies will pick us apart!"

I stared through the shimmering, distorted air of the fire wall. On the other side, the Imperial soldiers stood perfectly safe behind their steel shields. They were waiting for us to burn. They thought the Emperor's magic was an unbreakable shield.

I pulled out of Klaus’s grip.

"Nerissa," Klaus warned, his heavy hand catching my wrist. The dark veins on his chest pulsed violently. "That is pure elemental fire. It will turn your bones to dust."

I pulled my wrist free. I walked directly toward the roaring wall of white fire.

The heat blistered the skin on my cheeks. The air was so thin and hot it burned my throat with every breath. I stopped two feet from the flames. The golden geometric lines carved into the marble pulsed beneath my boots, feeding the fire with raw power.

I dropped to my knees on the pristine white stone.

I did not just reach for the cold, toxic energy in my chest. I grabbed it with both hands and ripped it completely open.

I slammed my bare palms flat against the glowing, golden lines in the marble.

The collision of my dark decay and the Emperor's elemental fire was a violent, physical shockwave. A deafening, high-pitched screech tore through the courtyard, sounding like tearing metal and shattering glass.

I pushed the Blight straight down into the foundation.

The thick, oily black sludge poured from my skin.

The golden light flickered, turning a sickly, bruised purple before dying entirely.

The wall of white fire sputtered. The flames turned black, choked by the thick, foul-smelling smoke of my decay, and then collapsed into nothing.

I did not stop. The cold fire in my blood demanded more.

I kept my hands pressed to the stone, pushing the rot outward, driving it across the remaining fifty yards of the courtyard directly toward the Imperial phalanx.

The white marble turned completely black. The hissing sludge ate the ground, spreading in a massive, terrifying wave of pure decay.

The Imperial soldiers watched the fire die. Then, they saw the black tide rushing toward them.

"Hold the line!" Draven screamed from the terrace, his voice cracking with panic. "Brace your shields!"

The front rank of soldiers locked their knees.

The wave of black rot hit their boots.

A soldier in the center of the line dropped his heavy shield, screaming in raw agony as the decay bit into his flesh. He fell backward into the man behind him. The man next to him looked down at his own smoking, melting boots and broke rank.

"Witchcraft!" a guard yelled, his voice pitching high with absolute terror.

"It’s eating the steel!" another screamed.

The legendary discipline of the Imperial army shattered into a million pieces.

They dropped their spears. They threw down their heavy iron shields. They turned and ran, trampling over each other in a desperate, blind panic to escape the spreading black decay.

From the terrace, Draven drew his massive broadsword. He swung the heavy blade, cutting down a fleeing soldier right in front of him.

"Stand your ground!" Draven roared, his face purple with rage. "I will kill any man who runs!"

It didn't matter. The terror I had unleashed was infinitely stronger than their fear of the Captain. The soldiers shoved past him, abandoning the courtyard completely. They left their weapons and their courage in the hissing black sludge.

I pulled my hands away from the stone.

I slumped forward, catching myself on my elbows. My head spun violently. A thick drop of hot blood dripped from my nose, splashing onto the blackened marble.

Strong hands grabbed my shoulders, hauling me up.

Klaus lifted me to my feet. He wrapped his left arm tightly around my waist, holding me up when my trembling legs refused to lock. His broad chest heaved against my side. He looked at the massive swath of black, melted stone and the discarded, smoking weapons of the broken army.

"You broke them," Klaus whispered, his voice thick with awe. He turned his head, pressing a hard, desperate kiss to my temple.

I leaned heavily against him, dragging a harsh breath into my lungs. I wiped the blood from my upper lip with the back of my wrist.

"The courtyard is yours," I told him, my voice a raspy, exhausted scrape.

Klaus looked across the empty, ruined courtyard.

At the far end, standing alone on the lower steps of the inner keep, was General Draven.

The Captain of the Guard had not run. He stood surrounded by the discarded shields of his men. His scorched armor looked heavy and useless. He held his massive broadsword in both hands, the tip resting on the stone. His pale amber eyes were fixed entirely on Klaus.

The centuries of hatred between them hung in the cold, smoky air. Draven was the man who had locked the silver chains around Klaus's wrists.

Klaus slowly released my waist.

He stepped forward, his heavy boots crunching on the black, dead marble. He raised his rusted iron sword. The dark veins over his heart pulsed with a terrifying, rhythmic intensity. The feral, hungry violence that had been building inside him for months finally found its exact target.

"Cassian," Klaus commanded, his voice cold and flat. "Guard her."

The Vampire Lord stepped up beside me, his rapier drawn, his crimson eyes wide and respectful. "With my life."