Kronock stood silent. It was long since the night had fallen and the North wind shot through his liquid barrier like razors in the darkness, but he didn’t mind. The cruel cold set his character well enough, and he enjoyed fitting his scenery. He was not too worried about his servants, they were quite replaceable. He was worried that if they were caught, and talked, that an army might very well come for him. If he did not get that human by then, he may very well be defeated. He knew he needed to enlist more help, and knew just the one to convince. He very well might have to bring in an old rival of dear Roketh’s. One from long ago...

About that time, Namerca and Dracoul returned. The Armored Dragon, Dracoul, had severe burns on his left arm up to his shoulder. Namerca was missing feathers on her chest, obviously blown off and leaving burning flesh exposed to the arctic air.

Kronock merely glanced at them, snickered a bit, then added, “I suppose you found them?”

“The Jills are more than just a band or clan, my liege,” Dracoul spoke, “An entire civilization, fully outfitted and rivaling the greatest human cities.”

“Its true, Kronock,” Namerca chimed in, “We went to the cave, and we noticed an abnormal wall. We smashed through it into a long hallway, which lead us to a huge, white door. It was beautiful, but we’d rather have it destroyed. However, when we broke it down, the entire mountain hollowed out. A marvelous city of Jills, who were doing repairs. Obviously, we assumed they were no match, especially considering something had just attacked them. We were deceived, my lord, and pushed back.” With that, she lowered her head in shame, as did
Dracoul.

Kronock said nothing. Merely stood there, staring at the two. Finally he said, “How many Jills attacked you?”

“Well,” Dracoul started, “About 40 or so Jill charged initially. They had odd contraptions and battle-gear on. As we engaged them in an air battle, we saw him.”

“Air battle? Are you telling me that, over the years, those Jills’ ill fated attempts at flight were successful? I remember the first Jill that tried to fly merely tiptoed and flapped his arms in vain. How do they fly?”

“Well, my lord,” Namerca said slowly, “You not going to believe this, but fire, sir.”

Kronock snapped about and stared at them, “The Jills are flying with....fire?

“Yes, sir.” Both of them said instantly.

“Let me get this strait,” Kronock said, shaking his head, “Those over-grown, hairy, lard-filled, ice donuts now can fly using the one element which they despise over all others?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jills hate fire and flight, why do you lie to me?” Kronock said, staring at the empty ground in front of him.

“We would never, sir. However, thats not all.” Dracoul said, making slight hand motions, “You see, they had weapons, like the humans. Yet much more advanced. Then we saw him, the human, also in one of these. He must’ve shown them his technology.”

Kronock did seemed intrigued by this thought. The human was a decent fighter, and now he is a scientist as well. Indeed a perfect vessel. He then added, “Any sign of a rather large Jill, possibly the leader or shaman?”

“Yes, my lord.” Dracoul started again, “The battle was much to confined for us, and we retreated outside for more maneuverability. As we went outside, the human persuade us. He was wearing some kind of red battle armor. We thought we had him for sure. Then, a large Jill, the biggest I ever seen stepped out. No armor, just him. He raised his hands and...and...I didn’t know that Jills could harness wind power.”

“Wind you say?” Kronock asked as his hand went to his chin in thought and excitement.

“Yes, my liege,” Namerca took over, “A massive tornado of sorts erupted from the ground. We were tossed about along with the human, but he wasn’t affected. He caused these burns on Dracoul. Some kind of weaponry came out of his arms and fired, guns I suppose. He never hit me with either, Dracoul was not so lucky. Then, several small, rocket-like things shot off his back, over his shoulders and into my chest. As I fell, unconscious, Dracoul caught me and brought me back. I woke up about a mile before we got back here.”

“Good work, the both of you.” Kronock snickered a bit more, “How could you beat someone who defeated Kingston himself all those years ago? After all, your not even the ones in charge, but I commend your valor.”

Kronock stood there for a while, the other two waiting intently for their orders.

Finally, Kronock said, “I must go and run an errand, I’ll return but watch the fort until then.”

“Yes, my lordship.” They both answered in unison.

“Ohh, and one more thing,” Kronock added before he left, “I’ll handle the Jillish army, just capture that human when they separate.”

With that, Kronock sprouted two, very large, dragon-fly-like wings. With a slight humming sound echoing off the cave side, he took off, to enlist the aid of a very powerful monster indeed.

Meanwhile...In the Jungle...

Roketh and company moved up a path leading through the Kawera Jungle. The Papas were due north of it, and flying was out of the question. The last thing they needed was Kronock to know that they were coming. They had learned much of their new allies and, no matter what anyone said, they were quite formidable. The six now walked in utter silence, a vague uneasiness filled the air about them. It consumed them, and they new something was wrong. As they came around the next bend, they all cringed at what they saw.

“What on God’s earth could do this? Is this Kronock’s doing?!” Galin asked, a bit shocked.

Tsunami quickly went to the woods, puking. Slayer had killed countless creatures and Moonshadow was a hardened warrior, but they both had to turn away. Tiny started crying, not screaming or bawling, but tears came, and the wet sniffs, too. Galin was angry, very angry. Roketh just stared on, in utter disbelief.

There was a rather large temple of sorts, resembling the Incas or Mayans. A long, wide stairway went up the middle of the palace. In front of the temple was about 20 acres of desert and dead earth. On these 20 acres, Roketh saw a massacre that could only be described as utter Armageddon, the death of all things. Almost like a battle field, death everywhere. Men, women, children, monsters, and Roketh even noted a cat, were impaled on long, wooden shafts. The ground was covered in blood, fresh and old. Something resembling an open road lead strait to the stares, and that was the only place without a corpse on a stick.

Roketh felt a tear on his face as he saw a young boy, barely a boy, on one of these stakes. Strait through his chest. His face was contorted in such a grimace Roketh had to turn. Had this boy watched his family die before meeting his end? Not much more thought could be put into the as a load screaming rang from the temple. Each assumed a fighting stance and prepared for the worse.

At the top of the temple, a man came running out, with the sounds of a load battle raging behind him. He tripped and fell down a few stairs. He was covered in blood, whether it was his or not was impossible to discern. A load slice followed by a heavy thump echoed from the temple. The man looked up, screamed again, and begin running again. Roketh then realized an Ima badge on his chest. A trainer? An explorer? He didn’t think much more of this, as a large, black figure appeared on the top of the temple. It screamed and raised something in the air. Roketh looked closely, trying to identify it.

Galin groaned a bit before saying, “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yup,” Slayer said, “thats a head.”

Roketh saw it now. What was once a proud, Zuum type, now had his head held high by something Roketh could not identify. It had a long cape on and thats all he could note, other than the hand holding the head. The creature flung the head down to the ground. It landed about a yard in front of the man. He went to his knees, crying.

“No, Zamber. Say something.” The man was obviously in a state of utter madness. This was even more apparent when he grabbed the head and began speaking to it, “We’ll be back when your stronger.”

But he wouldn’t make it back. About halfway across the blood-covered terrain, a slicing sound was heard. The man jerked horribly as the Durahan’s sword shot through his body. The man fell limp, dropped the head, and the sword stood mere feet in front of Tsunami, who threw up again.

“A Durahan? A Durahan did this?” Moonshadow said slowly, “I thought they were noble?”

“Look Moonshadow,” Galin said, pointing towards the blood covered sword, “A Durahan my be strong, but not even a pure breed is strong enough to throw a sword that far, with that accuracy, and go completely through a man.”

“What are you suggesting, Galin? He’s not a Durahan?” Slayer asked mockingly.

“No, he is one.” Galin said as he watched the caped figure walk down his steps, “The most powerful kind. Only the Durahans with Golem sub-breeds even come close....to that of a Beaclon.”

He was right. The Durahan was taking his time coming off his castle, but his horn reflected sunlight enough to let them know it was there. The Hercules reached up to his neck, undid something, and the cape fell loosely on the temple steps. His walk was a slow, calculating stride, as if he was summing up their strengths as he got closer. Eventually, he reached his blood covered sword and, amazingly, sheathed it.

“State your business.” He said as he kicked Zamber’s head out of sight and picked up the corpse of the trainer with his right hand.

“Did, did you do all this?” Tiny asked, pointing around the area of death and blood.

“Yes and, unless you want to be next, you should leave.” He said as he tossed the corpse on a spike with a solitary hand. It made a sickening sound as it slid down the pole. Roketh still cringed at the sound of parting flesh. Once again, Tsunami threw up. A great fighter, yes, but this gore was getting to her.

“Who are you?” Roketh asked boldly and defiantly.

The Durahan glanced up at him, a bit stunned that anyone had the gall to address him so, “I am The Butcher, welcome to my humble abode. Like the flowering arrangement?”

“You make me sick...” Galin said as his claws shot from his wrist, “You’ll pay...”

The Butcher laughed quite loudly before saying, “I probably will, but your far from the one who will make me.”

“Want to bet, Old man?” Moonshadow chimed in, ready for battle.

“Ha!, I just hate handicap matches, this just isn’t fair,” He leaned over slightly before adding, “You’ll need more people.”

“Thats it!,” Galin said as he assumed a fighting stance, “Let me kill him, Roketh, please!”

“Roketh!?” The Butcher slung is sword out with blinding speed, “It is really you! At last!”

Roketh was slightly puzzled, “What do you mean, of course I’m me. Have we met?”

“You don’t remember good old Dante?, “The Butcher said, “Now he goes by The Butcher, Keeper of Earth.”

“Your one of the Eight Lords?! Dante!?” Roketh asked grimly.

“Yes, and now I’m going to kill you.,” The Butcher said very calmly, “We have been used as tools and equipment by the humans far too long. Kronock came by earlier. We shot the breeze a bit and then he told me you were still around. Remember what happened between us way back then, Roketh?”

Roketh’s answer was his silent nod, and nothing more. He remembered it well. 500 years ago they had a battle. One that Roketh won, barely.

“Rematch, old friend.” The Butcher said mockingly as he prepared for battle, the other six doing the same.

The Butcher hit a small button on the back of his shield. The spears and all that were impaled on them started sliding back, giving him enough room to maneuver properly.

Tiny was the first to attack. His fist went flying towards the unsuspecting Durahan. WANG! was heard as The Butcher flew threw the air and into the side of his temple. He went through that as a cloud of gray dust and rock flew up. Was it already over? Couldn’t be...not him.

Then, the sound of the sword flying through the air sounded again. Moonshadow shot a stream of lightning in front of Tiny, and the sword hit the waves of electricity with amazing force. Thankfully, the sword was still diverted, and landed back in the hole from which it came.

“Impressive, but you’ll need a heck of a lot more than that, petty welps!” With these words, The Butcher shot out from the crater in his palace. It was almost as if he was performing Flash Cut across the entire 20 acres! His speed was amazing. Thus, Tsunami and Moonshadow were the first to charge, followed by Galin and Roketh by air, and Slayer and Tiny behind them. Simple formation, if one person hit, another was bound to as well, and a chain reaction of connecting hits would take him down.

Moonshadow and Tsunami went separate ways, one on the left of him, one on the right. The Butcher was centered on Tiny, for he knew that guy could be a problem. At this point, Tsunami and Moonshadow thought it was time to strike him from behind.

“Lightning Blaster!” Moonshadow screamed as his black fur began to glisten its golden energy. Then, lightning shot off his horns in spastic waves of energy.

“Queen of the Nile!” Screamed Tsunami. Her hands and arms seemed to wrap around themselves and meld into one, strait form. That form blasted out a concentrated blast of water best resembling a horizontal geyser.

Both attacks landed home in the back of The Butcher. The others decided it was time to let loose as well.

“Thermal Claw!” As Galin said this, his trademark wrist blades turned into what resembled light sabers, shorter ones that is. One on the back of each of his four arms, and he charged the form of the Durahan lost in the haze of lightning and water, but still coming.

“Beserker Rage!” Tiny screamed as he, too, dove into the chaos to lay in more hits on The Butcher. Tiny’s arms swelled at least twice their original size as he dove in.

Slayer and Roketh took flight and rained assorted attacks from above. They did not want to hit Tiny and Galin in the back. Plus, Demon Flare and Leopard Cannon would practically destroy them all.

The four quit firing, and sounds of battle rang froth from the swirling tornado of assorted elements. Then, Galin came sailing out of the confusion. He landed and rolled a ways before sliding to a halt. As he looked up, back into the falling debris, everyone saw that his left eye was very blackened, and on his right shoulder was a long slash mark.

Load clinging and clanging seemed to erupt from the twisting nether. Then, Tiny came flying out the other side of the storm. He landed on his back and didn’t roll any, he slid strait. He sat up slowly looking back into the tornado, not knowing where his foe was. Then, the gut wrenching sound of tearing flesh was heard again. As they looked on, Tiny was on his back, a very large sword through his chest, and a very amused Butcher holding the handle.

“Ahh, got to love that jumping stab.” Butcher said, highly pleased with himself.

“I thought only noble monsters could learn that?!” Moonshadow exclaimed.

“I know every move, dog.” With that, The Butcher slashed upwards at Moonshadow. An form only visible through dust hit him and knocked him a flip.

As The Butcher turned, a glob of water hit him in the chest, and fell to the ground. He slowly looked up at the Undine, and laughed. Then, the ball erupted. A Sharkman, roughly the size of The Butcher now stood in front of him, with a large and scary trident. The Butcher slashed it once, and the water creature splattered, but The Butcher kept the trident.

“I think you lost this, Miss.” With these words, he disappeared in a flash of dust. Tsunami jerked hard almost at the same instant. Everyone watched in horror as two points came around her, and they knew where the middle one was. The Butcher then lifted her in the air on it, blue blood running down the pole and on to his hand. He slammed the other end into the ground, officially impaling his latest victim on her own trident.

As Roketh sped towards the fiend, he was passed rather quickly by a rather ticked Naga.

“MURDERER!” Slayer screamed as he dove on The Butcher.

As they landed, Slayer had already slashed him at least six times. They tumbled a bit and finally, Slayer was on top again. Roketh was coming down, and Monshadow and Galin had just got up when they heard it.

“Leopard Cannon!” Screamed Slayer, who’s chest began to glow white.

“No! Slayer don’t!” Roketh pleaded, to no avail.

“It is the only way, he killed my only true friends, and he’ll try and kill you. He’s working for Kronock, so you destroy him, but I owe The Butcher this one.” Slayer said as he was trying to hold The Butcher down.

“I don’t think so boy!” The Butcher said. As he did, he rolled Slayer, so The Butcher was on top. He stepped to the side so the blast would fire harmlessly into the air.

WANG! was heard as The Butcher fell onto Slayer’s chest. Slayer looked, and it was none other than Tiny who had hit him back into the blast.

“Get him, Slayer. For Tsunami and me, and all of them. All of us...” As he said this, the mighty Tyrant fell over, never again to fight. Yet, he did what he had to do, Slayer knew it. Now, Slayer knew what he had to do. Before The Butcher could get up, it was too late. All he saw was white light. Thats all anyone could see then.

“NO!” The Butcher screamed. It was too late. The black cat figure jumped out, with its white ray trimmings and all. However, it did not detonate on contact. Instead, it grabbed The Butcher and went skyward. The Butcher screamed the whole way up. Then, a bright, white explosion fired off. The sky was alive with light.

“It is done,” said Slayer, “I was going to die, but now I must go on with life missing my friends.”

“Not if I can help it!”

As Slayer and the others looked up, they saw the remarkable. The light show was still going on, but one, black dot was plummeting at a high rate of speed. Smoke was still burning off the charred form of The Butcher, but he was very much still alive, and coming down in the jumping stab position. Before anyone could react, SHEINK!

“Grahhh *gargle* *gargle*” Slayer’s head lay back, dead like his friends. The Butcher stood, smoke seeming to pour off every piece of his armor. He began walking towards Roketh, the only one that he had not got his hands on thus far.

Boom! A large explosion hit The Butcher in the chest. He flew back and landed on his stairs up to his temple. As they all looked up, including Butcher, they saw something remarkable. A small, red battle suit landed and a familiar voice said, “Looks like you guys need a hand.”

“Dagde?” Roketh spoke, “That you?”

“Yeah, where’s Jace and Vyger?” Dadge asked looking around.

“After we defeat him, I’ll tell you.” Roketh said as they all stood for round two.

The Butcher took in a deep breathe and rubbed his hand up his sword. The blood that covered it was all over him, and he rubbed it into his chest more, “What a beautiful slaughter I have today, fate is shining on me.”

“This guy gets off on killing?” Dadge asked, getting set for battle.

“He just killed three of our knew allies, and he’s working for Kronock, but thats not the complicated part...” Roketh said blankly.

“What is the complicated part then?” Galin asked, getting ready for round two.

“He’s one of the Eight Lords.” Roketh said coldly.


-Can the Butcher be defeated? It seems as soon as they made allies they lost them, can they possibly overcome this warrior of death? More so, if he dies, Roketh will not recieve the power of the Earth gaurdian.-

CHB Stay Tuned

ouch! nice work, chb. hope you sleep well tonight, john23! ^_^

Very nice... and yes torey, I think I can finaly rest in peaice *gurgle* gurrgle*.....

JUST THEN EARTHKEEPER COMES DOWN, AND TAKES THE HEAD OF JOHN23!...
OUch......