Magic The Gathering - Invasion Cycle Book 03 - Apocalypse by Magic The Gathering

Author:Magic The Gathering [Gathering, Magic The]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: OCRed & Converted by Evil Punker, Magic: the Gathering Novel
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Despite himself, the evincar retreated. Not since

Volrath could another man manipulate the flowstone of

the Stronghold. "How did you do that?"

"It is mine," Gerrard replied coolly. He reached out, as if intending to seize Crovax's breastplate. Before his fingers came anywhere near the evincar, though, another hand

pressed itself out of the walls of the chamber. It was a huge hand, and powerful, and it reached for Crovax.

He whirled away and sent his own will into the stone.

The reaching hand shrank and smoothed itself into the

wall.

"Your powers are not compleat," taunted the evincar.

"Even so, Yawgmoth has said I will rule over you, that I will command the rest of the invasion."

Crovax sneered. "You will never rule over me until I lie dead."

167

Apocalypse

Nodding deeply, Gerrard said, "That's precisely what I had in mind."

In a silent accord, the two men charged. Gerrard's

halberd head cut a white loop through the air, seeming

unstoppable. Crovax's axe whirled out to deflect the blade.

Metal clanged against metal. A cold shiver moved through Crovax's hand, his axe jangling. He thrust again, trying to skewer the Benalian's heart.

Gerrard was too quick. He turned to one side, allowing

the evincar's blade to jab past him. Then he lashed out with his hand, grasped the blade, and hauled on it.

Crovax tried to twist his axe, to sever the man's fingers, but Gerrard's hand was a vise. If the evincar held on, he would be pulled down beneath the halberd. If he let go, he would be disarmed .. .. No, not disarmed. While Crovax was in his throne room, while the throne room was yet his, he was never disarmed.

Crovax did not merely release his blade. He shoved it at his attacker.

Gerrard staggered back. He gaped at the axe in one

hand and the halberd blade in the other.

Crovax also stepped back. A simple flourish of his claws sent tendrils of power to the boneless meat bags that had been his vampire hounds. They suddenly lurched. Their

bones were still shattered, their organs were still wet pulp, but they moved. Pain meant nothing anymore. Contusions

crackled as the shaggy beasts lurched toward Gerrard.

Broken fangs grinned at him.

The young savior of Dominaria spun, hacking into the

monsters. His halberd bit deep, cleaving fur and all

beneath. The blows would have stopped any living thing, but not these dead hounds. They bit his legs. They clawed his sides. They climbed him with a back-broken, humping motion.

168

J. Robert King

Crovax smiled proudly. "You say that Yawgmoth has

given you dominion over me? It hardly seems so. What

undead creatures fight for you, Gerrard? You control

flowstone, yes, but what of dead flesh? Who but a

necromancer could truly rule the Stronghold?"

Gerrard fought like a badger. He sliced and chopped

with axe and halberd.

The vampire hounds came to pieces. Hunks of flesh no

larger than stew meat pattered to the ground. Still, dark magic animated them. Like bloody mice, these chunks

wriggled over to climb the battling man. Bone shards bit into him. Muscle fragments bled their poisons into his

wounds.

Gerrard roared. He turned the flowstone floor to

churning liquid. Every hunk of hound flesh sank into the floor, sucked away.

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