WAR PLANET: The Phantom

Chapter 5

The second molve turned to the boy, that had obliviously collided with its behind. He was slumped against the wall, clutching a sharp object in one hand, the other holding the back of his head while squinting in undeniable pain. The sight produced a slice of pity, and the molve couldn't help feeling sorry for him, so instead of ending the test at that moment it backed off a few feet to growl threateningly in his direction, giving him a chance to get his head back in the game.

Ronan pulled himself to his feet, looking at his palm now streaked with fresh blood. The molve barked and snarled viciously as he heard the responding howls of the other five. He turned to face his enemy, it was a fortress, plated with raw impregnable stone stretching all the way from its head to the tip of its clubbed tail. Except it's broad chest, where its stone skin cracked open to reveal that beautiful orange light, the core of its animation, its weakness.

At least, that was what he hoped.

Ronan's dagger warmed up with a soft, white light as he pointed it at his enemy. Arching its spiny back, the molve prepared for its charge. Sharp pebbles scattered like shrapnel as it lurched forth, its monstrous paws poised to take down its prey, but its prey was acting strange now. Unlike the countless others, he didn't move. Even as his narrow gap of escape quickly disintegrated and the crushing mass of a beast easily twice his own size was prepared to flatten him, he didn't flinch.

Ronan wasn't entirely confident about the success rate of his plan, but it was too late to turn back now. Now that he was either gonna try it or be crushed by a living boulder. The beast flew at him with unwavering momentum, leaping to such a height its chest gained level with his shoulders; it was now or never. Ronan shoved the dagger deep into the molve's open chest, lodging the blade in the orange ball of energy that apparently had a physical form. A shower of stones rained down as the beast crumbled, pelting Ronan with their rough edges.

The dagger dropped in temperature until he couldn't hold onto it's freezing surface anymore, and the ball of energy swirled once around his head, then up into the sky, wisping his dagger away.

He heaved out a heavy sigh, did I kill it?

This thought wasn't the greatest source of his relief, he was more grateful to the fact he hadn't become a gruesome wall decoration; but celebration would have to wait while he figured out what to do with the five still pursuing him. He could hear their scraping paws and thick raspy breathing as they closed in on his location.

He pulled the blue sack out of his pocket, sprinkling a couple of the tiny black marbles into his palm. Two heads popped around one corner, followed by another that peeked around a separate path. Finally, the one that first encountered him came bounding out from the trail directly in front, he couldn't wait for the fifth one to appear; otherwise he'd risk getting caught. He lifted the marbles into the air, shattering them on the ground, and causing them to burst into large clouds of thick black smoke that spread throughout the entire vicinity.

The cloud spread without thinning, enveloping everything it could catch in a blinding thick veil that reeked of burning trees, blocking any sense of smell it came into contact with. Ronan's plan was to elude the beasts under the cover of the concealing smoke, but this task proved to be harder than expected, since he could only distinguish an object if it was at most a foot from his face.

Ronan turned to hastily walk down the path behind him; he could hear the molves that had been caught in his overly effective trap, they too were stumped on where to go.

The smoke irritated Ronan's nose, tickling his senses and burning at his eyes. A sneeze welled up inside him and he grabbed his nose to try and stop it, but the smoke was relentless. All at once he lurched forwards and shot out a powerful sneeze, but it didn't stop there. The smoke continued its besiegement of his nose hairs and he sneezed for a second time, obscuring his vision with tears, and amplifying the pounding pain in the back of his head.

Everything went silent, the molves had stopped their barking and heavy footsteps, he couldn't even hear the sound of their raspy breathing anymore.

They knew where he was.

He bolted, bumping into the occasional wall or almost tripping over large deformities in the ground. He ran until the smoke thinned out and he could see the light of day.

When finally ridded himself of the bothersome haze, he stopped at a corner coughing and wiping his teary eyes. He pulled the tiny book out of his pocket, scanning the pages. Words that looked like elegant gibberish orderly lined the paper with short sentences to provide their functions; a spell would be the closest way to describing it. He skimmed through the book, looking for something explosive, something that could blow the molves to bits without getting up and personal with them, and something... he could pronounce right.

Some of the words looked downright nasty, while others demanded sounds he didn't know were humanly possible. His hopes gradually crumbled, until he came across a familiar attack.

Fireball. He looked at its word and repeated it under his breath. "Rastasnatch Rastasnatch...." It was pronounceable, and kind of catchy. The thumping of the stone clad Wolves echoed through the cloud of smoke, that had shrunk in size and density.

Ronan sucked in a few deep breaths and grabbed the flashlight; in case he needed to throw something useless.

Three molves came crashing into view, and Jeremy, whom Ronan had forgotten about, let out a screeching yowl. The molves turned to the origin of the sound, finding their prey standing in fearful shock. Ronan had an idea as to what his cat was trying to accomplish by gaining the attention of three molves, but despite the time limit looming over his head, he wasn't hoping on receiving the task of taking out three at once.

He dropped the book in a crazed panic, and sprinted down the path beside him. By the time he was almost through the hall, the three molves appeared, skidding around the corner all at once and toppling over each other into a scrabbling heap. He turned around, stuck his right arm out, and cringed. "Rastasnatch!"

A pitiful flame snaked out in front of him and withered away into a tiny string of smoke.

He remembered the same results when he'd tried turning the stick invisible, until Jeremy brushed his leg.

That's it!

Jay!

Jeremy narrowed his almond eyes as Ronan eyed him with a flicker of enlightenment, the corner of his mouth rolling up into an evil smirk. Jeremy's animal instincts tingled and he turned to bolt, but Ronan was used to catching his cat and snatched him off the ground before he could leap into an uncatchable dash.

The molves returned to their objective of chasing Ronan, who faced them with a squirming cat in his arms. "Rastasnatch!"

The air surrounding him filled with a energetic crackle that ate at his energy until he felt like he'd done a set of push-ups. The space he stood in heated up, but he didn't see any fire, and the molves were closing in. He dropped Jeremy, and turned to run, while the flashlight he was holding sizzled and steamed, burning at the tender palm of his hand and forcing him to drop the unbearably hot object as he ran.

He ran as fast as his remaining energy would allow, never bothering to check over his shoulder as the molves slowed their pursuit to inspect the glowing red object he'd dropped -the surprise he'd unwittingly left them. He reached the corner as a rumbling blast shook the ground and pushed him to his knees with a tremendous shockwave. Small burnt pebbles soared through the air, landing like droplets of rain all around him. He sat there, clutching his ringing ears from the thundering boom that roared behind him.

The explosion was equivalent to a small land mine, rocketing chunks of debris into the air that still burned as they sat in their landing spots. It came out of nowhere, shaking the ground and roaring with deadly ferocity, leaving in its wake a plume of grey ash and smoke that shrouded full extent of the blast.

Ronan could no longer hear the pack of molves, nor feel their malicious intent weighing down on him, so he waited until the cloud dispersed into a thin hazy sheet to shakily inspect the scene.

He looked into the cloud of dust, his fear washing out with dumbfounded confusion.

"What the hell?"

The walls that once stood as sturdy blockades were reduced to smoking gravel, and a circle of spiking scorch marks surrounded three balls of orange energy hovering around their incinerated containers.

He watched one of them lift the flashlight up, coated in black scorch marks. The three balls rose to the sky, swirling away and leaving Ronan with two molves to go.

He wandered the maze until he caught a glimpse of a molve's tail disappearing behind a wall, and stealthily tiptoed after it. His vision was still blurred from the smoke balls, and his movements had become sluggish as his injury pounded at the back of his skull. He grabbed his second dagger, and concealed himself behind a corner where he could glance at the molve.

The overgrown cobble was speckled with loose grey stones that suddenly landed a purpose in Ronan's plan. He grabbed a rock and peered around the corner at the molve, it's back was turned as it slowly stalked down its trail. Backing away from his spot, he lobbed the rock so it landed directly in front of the opening. The scraping shuffles of the molve stopped, and it let out a low growl.

Its clicking claws got louder and louder, as it approached the origin of the noise. Bending low Ronan waited for his target to show, he was oddly getting the hang of fighting giant stone beasts. Its pointed nose appeared first, followed by its rough angular jaw, and then its fiery orange eyes. He leaped in front of the beast, giving it no time to react before he jabbed the dagger into its flaming core. The molve shrieked and struggled before it crumbled into a heap of rocks, and the orange ball snatched the blade, quickly fleeing the scene. One more.

****

The boy's style of fighting was odd, and most of the time almost panicked. Yet he'd taken down five of the molves, whether by sheer luck or a simply strange skill set. The sixth molve watched him as he stood in front of the heap of rocks, it was the last one, and it wasn't going down without a fight.

A grey cat it had neglected to notice before looked up at it impassively. It had to be the boy's guardian, but oddly enough, it wasn't making a single noise to alert its partner to the closing danger. In fact, it looked irritated with its partner, bearing a smug grin as it beheld the final molve perching behind Ronan on top of a wall.

Ronan leaned up against the wall and sighed, brushing the ash and dust off his uniform. There wasn't a point to doing it, since his clothes were beaten tatters regardless of the debris.

"I wonder where that last molve is." He rubbed the back of his head with a wince of pain, impassively watching Jeremy stared vacantly to the sky.

A sound so small it wouldn't have had any significance in a natural setting, came from behind him, but the setting was eerily silent, so the sound of scraping claws and falling pebbles was an alert equivalent to a bomb siren.

He slowly looked up at the last molve frozen in its hiding spot.

"Oh..."