The Last Warlock

The mages were coming for his head.

They were not stupid. It seemed the intelligence of those light constructs was not something to laugh at.

They seemed to understand the reason for the warlock's momentum lies in Mack's attitude.

It was an old and simple tactic. Kill the head of a serpent. And his huge muscular body would fall.

Mack saw the mages advancing thru the warlock line. The more the mages advances more warlocks would go to fight them, even so, they kept advancing.

Those mages, different from the acolytes, did not use their staffs to fight head-on.. But used them to channel their spells. They only used their staffs in a physical battle to defend themselves from the warlocks that somehow cut or passed by their magic shields.

One warlock just did exactly this. His blade hit the magic shield so strong that his blade cut the shield in half without losing momentum.

The mage used his staff to block the incoming attack. But before the warlock could continue his attack with another movement, the mage pulled his staff back and cast a spell with the same staff.

Fireball.

The small fireball hit the warlock in his chest and the warlock stopped moving.

Not even a second later the same warlock was burning more brightly than the sun itself.

A few seconds later nothing was left from that warlock, only ashes on the muddy ground.

Mack seeing all that happen, could not believe his eyes. One thing was to observe the battle far away from the hill like he did yesterday, and another was to see how powerful those mages were from this close.

The mages regained their march and advanced to where Mack was. Mack didn't knew if he ran or what. He was sure he had no way to deal with them.

But his problems were solved. Because in the next second Mack suddenly felt a heavy hand pat on his shoulder.

Mack looked behind.

"You!"

It was the powerful warlock from yesterday.

Mack somehow felt assured because in the next second the warlock raised his hand from Mack shoulder and pointed at the mages.

~boom~

A heavy pressure could be seen falling around the mages. From Mack's distance, it looked like the air itself became denser around those mages.

The warlock snapped his fingers.

~splash~

All the mages become a pile of broken bones and disfigured bodies.

If the light constructs had blood Mack would be throwing up already because the scene was a brutal and gore massacre.

One warlock, several mages. one snap of fingers and no more mages.

That was the true power of a warlock.

That was what Mack aimed.

Those few mages that advanced through the line of warlocks killed hundreds of warlocks. To be stopped by a single one.

Mack was not sure if this guy behind him was the most powerful warlock here or not. But for him. This was true power. No fancy movements, no fancy effects. Simple and powerful.

Simple and deadly.

While Mack was thinking all this, the warlock behind him moved and walked to the front, going toward the frontline.

Not even caring for his life anymore, Mack followed him.

He would stick to this guy for the entire battle. If he didn't learn anything, so be it. But he had to risk.

The temptation was too huge for Mack to resist.

The battle was a non-stop killing and this small fight was only one of the thousands that were happening at the same time.

No one had time to applaud or say thanks in a battle. Only life and death mattered.

Kill or be killed.

Mack moved behind this powerful warlock and followed him like a duckling would follow his mother.

From time to time Mack would help in battles involving acolytes and other warlocks, but never saw a mage come close to him anymore.

It seemed this powerful warlock thought was bennet him to kill acolytes. Or at least, was what Mack believed.

~clash~

~clash~

Another bout and another acolyte's head. As time passed, more and more Mack improved using the sword.

He observed the other warlocks fighting and tried to do the same. Some movements were even hard to see, but Mack was able to grasp the basic pattern of attack and defense used by the warlocks.

After a few more hours of fighting, Mack saw something he didn't even think existed before.

A small mage tower.

The tower only had 5 floors but in this battlefield it seemed to exalt itself as if had a hundred floors.

Several mages were around the tower in what looked like a defensive formation and no warlock tried to approach it.

It seemed they knew something that Mack didn't knew.

The warlock in front of Mack kept walking in a straight line in direction of the mage tower unfazed by the mage's formation or the warlocks that stopped attacking.

A Few seconds later the same powerful warlock put both his hands on the ground and Mack could see the warlock's lips saying something. But no sound came out. Light constructs could not talk.

~crack~

~crack~

~boom~

The Earth split itself in front of the warlock and a thin but profound crater started to open and extend in the direction of the mage tower.

A few seconds later the crater reached below the tower.

And Mack could see the tower tilting to the side, just like the Pisa Tower from Earth.

A few mages happened to be on the path of the crater to the tower and fell on them. Unable to fly or even run, the few mages were engulfed by the crater to never be seen again.

The warlock pressed his hands on the ground more and more and the crater started to expand the sides. Until....

~boom~

The mage tower fell to the ground. Killing both mages and warlocks in the process.

The few mages remaining, seeing their tower was gone, started to run back to their defensive line, only to be pursued by the warlocks.

Mack had no clue what the tower was capable of, but seeing how important it seemed to warlocks and mages, he engraved that information in his mind.

But more important than that, he engraved how a single warlock was capable of destroying it. And also, how he destroyed.

Mack was sure he would need to do the same in the future.