Read Online The Tower of Endless Worlds by Jonathan Moeller - Free Book Online Page B

took to the air, wings flapping. Liam whirled, trying to keep his eyes on the beast as it flew in an intricate pattern beneath the vaulted ceiling. 
    The winged demon wheeled and plunged down like a thunderbolt, scimitar point leading. Liam leapt to the side, and the demon landed with a crash, scimitar sweeping for Liam’s head. He parried, sparks shooting from the locked blades. 
    The demon flapped its wings, and its right wing caught Liam in the face. The old Knight stumbled, his back smacking into the wall. The demon roared in victory and brought its scimitar down in a two-handed chop. Liam growled, parried with his left sword, and stabbed with his right. The blade slid through a gap in the winged demon’s armor and plunged deep into its belly. The demon shrieked as blue fires burst from the Sacred Blade and seared through its flesh. 
    The winged demon shuddered and collapsed in a spray of ash and obsidian bones. 
    Liam sprinted up the stairs, cursing his armor. It had been forged by the finest smiths of Carlisan, but it was useless against bullets. Another explosion shook the damaged castle, dust falling from the ceiling. His breath burned in his throat. 
    He burst onto a high balcony overlooking a broad inner courtyard and stopped. 
    A cluster of forty people stood huddled against the far wall. Liam saw a thin young man holding a dirty girl of about eight or nine, a weeping woman in a rough dress, and dozens of others, all terrified or injured. They looked like peasants or the servants of the castle. The remnants of the Council Guard stood around them in a ring, their pikes extended. Before them all stood a grim-faced old man in a white robe, wild white hair framing his dark eyes and craggy face. Liam recognized Alastarius, mighty Master of the Order of the White Council. The old Wizard held his hands out, his face trembling with effort. A faint sphere of shimmering white light surrounded him and the others. 
    A man cloaked in black robes stepped out from under an arch.
    Lord Marugon himself had come. 
    Marugon stopped thirty feet from Alastarius. A dozen winged demons with Kalashnikovs and black scimitars accompanied him. A huge winged demon with a crown of red gold stopped at Marugon’s right hand. Liam had last seen that creature during the campaign against the Black Council. It was murderous and cunning Goth-Mar-Dan, king of the winged demons.
    “Alastarius, my old friend!” Marugon’s sonorous voice rang out. “Your struggle has come to naught. Surrender yourself. It will go easier.”
    Alastarius’s face darkened. “No. I will not give those in my care to your black mercies. I know your heart now.” His deep voice cracked like thunder. “I had thought better of you. I had thought you could change what you were. But I was wrong.”
    Marugon laughed. “You cannot maintain that spell of protection forever. Your strength will fail soon, old man. What will you do then?” Liam could not see Marugon’s face, but he heard the Warlock’s smile. “The other Wizards are dead. You are the only one left. The last of the Wizards and the last of the Warlocks, together in this ruin. Ironic, no?”
    “You have brought ruin to our world, Marugon!” said Alastarius. “The guns and the other machines will do naught but destroy. What shall you do, then? Rule over corpses and ashes?”
    Marugon stepped forward. He looked like a cloaked and hooded shadow. “This is not about conquest, old fool. I thought you knew that by now. It is not even about revenge. It is about destruction. It is about power and entropy.” He laughed, and Goth-Mar-Dan emitted a rumbling chuckle. 
    Liam’s mind raced. He could not find a way down to the courtyard. Even if he could, there were too many winged demons. He could fight two, even three, but not against a dozen. 
    And not against their mighty king. 
    “You have claimed victory today, dark one,” said Alastarius. “But tomorrow will turn against you.” The old Wizard drew