Mourn of the sword chapter 7 part 2
image created by me @fieryfootprints
Copyright (c) 2019 Simonas Tuinyla.
All rights reserved
Mercenary’s hand went for his sword. But for the first time in many years his trusty companion was not by his side. This discovery made no impression to Cercor. A warrior knew that he will beat this gang even without a weapon. His morning exercise became slightly more serious but in the end it was all the same. This opinion was well deserved one. In less than a minute Cercor beat all seven guards and they not only were not able to draw a drop of blood. They could barely see his movements at all. After this slaughter Cercor stood like a wild beast in the center of the room surrounded by bodies.
-Nice work.- said a voice full of disdain.- Pity that your efforts were wasted.
The speaker was a man in his forties. He stood in the doorway and observed the fight. Black hair and beard looked like they had never seen the comb. His face had several ugly scars. But the scars still looked nice in comparison to earrings in his eyebrows.
-My name is Zagran. Master of magic. But maybe you noticed this already?
Cercor could not speak. All his muscles suddenly refuses to obey his will. As if he was paralysed. Even his neck was grabbed by some invisible force.
-I admit that I could not hope to defeat you with a sword. – Zagran said with a fake respect.- Luckily for me I don’t need to use such barbarous tools. My Art provides me with all I need.
While talking mage with pleasure watched how Cercor started losing breath and dropped on the floor.
-Sleep well, champion.-chuckled Zagran.- You will not get that chance in the torture chambers.
Those words were the last Cercor heard while he was still conscious. After that he only felt a few kicks.