Chapter CCVI: Metal Men With Sharp Swords ~Multehx

C.R. looked about the chamber, scrutinizing every detail carefully. It seemed pretty normal for a mountain cave. There was a way to the next cavern, a stone tomb with a thick rock slab covering it in one hollowed out portion, a torch burning on the wall, and the fallen rocks covering where the entrance was.

C.R. hesitated, then a grin slowly spread over his face. Twilighter petrify upon dying, why would any need a burial case of any sort?

He walked over to the lid of the rock structure, tapped it with his cane, and mentally slid the rock off with little difficulty. Inside laid a mess of bandages mummifying some humanoid form. Upon closer examination, the face was nearly flat, so the Rip Watcher could easily deduce that it was a Twilighter's corpse. Touching it confirmed this. The body was extremely solid. Tapping it created the echo that only stone produced.

With a bit of effort, he managed to physically pull the mummified statue to its feet. Tapping on the bottom with his cane, a hollow echo greeted his ears.

C.R. smiled and shook his head. Ingenious ploy, he thought.

Kneeling, he moved his hand around the bottom of the stone box, feeling the edges carefully. When he finally found what he was searching for, he forced his fingers around the separated edge and pulled a sheet of the stone that formed a trap-door in the bottom up.

Stepping over the edge, he stepped down into the hole newly formed. As he got in, he turned around and slowly let the body down behind him. In turn, the rock covering he lifted went down slowly under the statue's weight. Finally, he let the stone slab close and the body settled back into place. A bit of his mental abilities slid the covering back onto the tomb. It was the number one thing to remember when doing something of this importance – always make it look as if you never even were there afterwards. It was right before the second most important rule – don't mock big men with blunt objects and much pointy, otherwise useless ornamentation.

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Walking for ages down a dark corridor, C.R. finally rounded a bend and entered into a massive chamber. It consisted of two levels, joined by two stone steps down, easily hopped down to. It was lit up by a chandelier filled with candles, had a large, oval table in the center with twelve chairs around it, and a smaller passage leading to some back chamber off to the left.

"Ah, so glad you could make it...nephew."

The Rip Watcher glanced over to the opposite side of the room. Malachai had just stepped out of the shadows there. The two glared at each other. C.R. drew his cane, Malachai his sword.

"Chronalactagatalus," Malachai nodded.

"Malachai," C.R. repeated the gesture.

The formalities aside, there was only one thing left. They commenced to kicking the other's arse.

C.R. hopped down onto the table. Malachai moved quickly over and tried to sweep his ankles with his sword, but his nephew agilely jumped it and smashed his cane down on his uncle's head. Malachai held his face with one hand while thrusting out the sword with his other. The blade glowed in a brilliant blue before shooting out a gale force wind of frigid air that formed a layer of frost on C.R.'s clothes and hair. The Rip Watcher shivered violently. He gradually got control of his muscles, shook the frost off his body, and threw forward his fist. A glowing green glow travelled from the punch's end and collided with Malachai's face, hitting it with tremendous and violent force.

The Council Leader stumbled backwards, shaking off the daze. As soon as he could see correctly, he saw accurately enough to see his nephew's knee coming straight for his face. He saw that very clearly, and felt it even more clearly, crashing into a suit of armour standing against the wall and collapsing into a heap. C.R. smirked as he looked down at his uncle's collapsed form. He drew back his cane and brought it down on the elder demon.

However, this blow was interrupted as Malachai threw a hand up at C.R. while he still sat there. The sword the suit of armor was holding glowed a dark shade of something akin to a teal-purple-lavender-green, shook abruptly, then flew up and parried the cane in mid-air. Malachai looked up, a grin on his face. C.R. looked a bit unnerved at this new tactic. He withdrew and the sword hovered in mid air. Malachai waved his hand again and the suit of armor reformed into a manless knight. The Rip Watcher looked surprised momentarily, then gritted his teeth and began to engage in a battle of cane and sword, fencing with the knight.

"You fiend – that's the same aura that comes from Kenzo! This is a Mechna Knight!"

Malachai snickered. "Precisely! Which means it shall not fall until its magik leaves its body! Heheh, hope you're ready for a long fight, boy!"

With that, the aged Twilighter waved his hand again. The other suits lining the room glowed with the same light, shook momentarily, then stepped off their stands and advanced on C.R., weapons beared. Soon, the orange Twilighter fended off blow after blow, not able to get off his own attacks as he fended off seventeen different weapons. He could hear his uncle laughing, but could not locate him as he thought and retreated step by step, parried blow by parried blow.

Soon, he could feel the solid wall on his back. As fast as he'd knock apart a knight or disarm it, the missing pieces would fly back into place and it would be in action once more. As he continued fending off the blows, an axe imbedded into the wall next to him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he continued. Metal clashed and rang thoughout the air. Malachai sat down in a chair, propped his boots up on the table, folded his arms and chuckled.

"Nothing breaks up the dank atmosphere like a little entertainment!" he snickered.