Lore/Story Maddox - Fated(Skyblock)

So I made this as a Skyblock Lore story and decided I'd come share it with ya'll, be aware that some of it does contain skyblock-related lore that may be unfamiliar to you guys.
Hope you like it!

Spoiler: Prologue

“Maxor.”

Necron’s voice echoed deeply throughout the chamber, filled with deadly seriousness. His voice was the kind that made you feel cold and chilled, like you were covered in a sheet of ice in that moment. But right now, no one was focused on that. Instead, there was a much larger issue at hand.

“You have been found guilty of treason against the Necromancers. You have been discovered making numerous attempts to delay, prevent the missions of, and kill several of the Champions. This is a crime that cannot be forgiven. As such, you are to be executed, and your name forever removed from my armies.”

This had come as a shock to me when I heard the news. Maxor had always been an excellent Champion, very dedicated to our cause. He had even replaced much of his withering body with clockwork, making him appear like a half-man, half-machine amalgamation. From what I knew, he had been a part of Necron’s army for hundreds of years. So what could possibly have driven Maxor to betray him?

Right now, the general Goldor was keeping Maxor in place with restrains made of necrotic energy of which even a wither couldn’t break. And even as how important this was to be already, it was going to become even more incredible.

“Maddox.”

I stood up. Maddox was the name I had chosen for myself before this execution was the take place, and there was a reason why. Maxor was a Champion of the Catacombs, and so if he died, then there would be no one to protect his floor. So, I was to inherit his floor of the dungeon, and I would claim it with my duties today.

“As you are to inherit the fifth floor of the Catacombs from Maxor, you have one task to complete before you lay claim to it. You are to be the one to execute Maxor for his crimes.”

Unsheathing my double-bladed axe from its place, I made my way up to the podium where Maxor and Goldor were. I felt no remorse for what I was about to do. Maxor was a selfish, lying traitor, and so he would die like one. If it was by my hand, then so be it. I would do anything for the greater cause.

Goldor shoved Maxor into the chopping block, and the clockwork part of his head made a loud clang against the wood. Maxor struggled and fought, but Goldor was far stronger, and kept him pinned down with minimal effort. I lifted my axe high into the air, right above Maxor’s neck, and wasted no time bringing it crashing down.

The axe cleaved through Maxor’s head, and his clockwork began to slow. His doubly lifeless head fell to the floor, bringing him to death for the second time. The traitor was dead. He would hurt us no more.

“Well done, Maddox.”

Necron stepped forward from the shadows at the back of the room. He towered over everyone present, and his massive three heads imposed dominance that was rarely ever challenged. He strode forward, and everyone knelt before him, even Goldor beside me, until he was right in front of me, and I knelt too.

Necron raised his hand, and dark magic came forth from it, rushing directly towards me. I did not flinch or resist it, but let it enter my body. This was the way one became a Champion. Necron’s magic filled me, and I knew it would grant me near immortality, even as my body grew old and withered. I felt myself grow stronger and stronger, my axe feeling lighter in my hand.

Finally, the magic rushed up to my head, and began to mark me. I could not see it myself, but to everyone else, the right half of my face would be covered in a black sigil, just like all of the other champions. Once it was complete I stood up, Necron’s newest champion transformed.

And now, I had proven my worth to the great necromancer lord. I was no longer a simple warrior, but now, I had a name. I had a true purpose. I was Maddox. Champion of the Catacombs.

Spoiler: Chapter 1 - Champion

Every Champion had their floor of the Catacombs to manage, protect, and strengthen. Even Necron had his own, located deep into the earth, close to the near-impenetrable bedrock. Each Champion was free to design their floor however they wished, and assign their troops in any way they wanted. They were also able to take part in any other “activities” they wanted to, which were often experiments to try to grow in power.

The first Champion of the Catacombs was Bonzo, and he was the only current champion that I hated. He was a clown - literally, and there were a million other better options out there, so why Necron chose him was beyond me.

The second Champion was Scarf. He had been rescued from the ruins of a nearby village years ago, and has been trained as a necromancer since then. He certainly has potential, but he has some odd… interests that could be detrimental to his skills.

The third Champion is Scarf’s teacher, Rohan, but he doesn’t ever call himself that. Most of the time, we just refer to him as “The Professor”. He teaches the new necromancer recruits, and there are rumors from many of the undead that he has actually been around for a few hundred years. I found that hard to believe, due to him showing no signs of withering, but he might just be hiding it incredibly well.

The fourth Champion is Thorn. Thorn is a bit of an odd case, considering the fact that he isn’t actually humanoid, but instead a spirit. I haven’t seen him in quite a while, but the last time I had visited his floor, he had created an entire gladiator’s arena, except it was for animals. I’m not sure why he would do that, considering his vegetarianism, but to each their own, I suppose.

The fifth Champion was Maxor.. During his stay as a Champion, he had filled the halls of the floor with large amounts of gears and no shortage of traps, apparently to go along with his “clockwork” theme. But now, after his betrayal, I was of course the new Champion of the fifth floor, and I was going to bring some changes.

The sixth Champion is Goldor, the wither general who assisted in capturing Maxor. Goldor is effectively the leader of Necron’s armies, and he takes his duties very seriously. He carries with him a massive broadsword at all times, so large the sheath can’t find on his back. He’s also usually sent to do Necron’s “dirty work”, out in the mortal realm.

And finally, on the lowest floor of the Catacombs resides Necron and Storm. Necron is the almighty wither lord, the emissary of Kaeman, and Storm is his right hand. Well, I use the word “hand” lightly, as Storm has none. Instead, he uses his powerful elemental abilities to assist him, and one of his favorite creations are massive stone hands, which he uses to crush enemies.

Every Champion had their place in the Catacombs(except, of course, Bonzo) and I was going to use mine to the highest extent I could. I had many ideas for what I was going to do, and there was no time to waste to get them done.

Firstly, I had all of the gears taken down. They served no purpose other than decoration, and they were a waste of metal that could be used to make armor and weapons. I had a forge made with lava taken directly from the Nether, and went to work smelting the gears back down into usable ingots. It was slow work, but it was for a purpose - the gears weren’t made of just any metal, but Necromium.

Necromium was one of the strongest metals in the world, even stronger than the Mithril and Titanium the dwarves loved so much, and even stronger than Netherite. It was specifically tailored to harness necrotic abilities, which of course, the undead were very fluent in. It was also one of the few things that could severely damage undead, so it was vital we kept the material away fro those who were against us.

There was a surprising amount of gears in the floor, and it might have taken years to smelt them all down, but fortunately I had many soldiers willing to work on the ingots, so the task was finished in just a few days. Now, we could begin work on a possibly even more daunting task - forging all of the ingots into armor and weapons.

There were so many ingots that I had to clear out an entire room just to fit them all, and have several soldiers stand by the newly appropriated vault just in case. I tasked over fifty of my soldiers to get working on armor and weapons before attending to my own business. I had selected the best, most high-quality ingots out of the piles, and kept them in my chamber. I had special plans for them.

The only armor the zombies were going to make would be basic Necromium armor, the exact same for every single soldier. In fact, that was probably the best they could make, and I didn’t trust them with forging armor for my higher ranked soldiers. So, I was going to make them myself.

The first step of the forging was to transform the already powerful Necromium into something even stronger - Enchanted Necromium. However, forging the Enchanted Necromium would be incredibly difficult, and smithing it into usable armor would be even harder. Fortunately, I was going to have some help.

The Nether was full of powerful tools for smithing, and none better than the Enchanted Lava Bucket. The lava itself wasn’t enchanted, but rather, it was so hot that the bucket itself needed to be. It would help drastically with smelting the Necromium. Additionally, the Professor had a significant amount of potions, two of which I had “borrowed” to help me.

I downed the Strength and Fire Resistance potions, then picked up the nearby Enchanted Lava Bucket and carried it over to the forge, pouring it in. I had already taken precautions to assure that the forge itself wouldn’t melt - every part of the forge was made with the same Enchanted Netherite as the bucket was. The lava was incredibly hot, and despite the potion I had taken, I could still feel the extreme heat it exuded.

But that wasn’t important. Now, it was time to get to work.

After minutes turned into hours and hours turned into days, finally I was finished. I had burned through countless potions, and the only thing keeping me going was the near-endless endurance that I now had thanks to me being Champion. I was able to transform the ingots into incredibly high-quality Necromium, and then further forge them into the armor I needed.

Each of my generals received uniquely crafted armor and weapons for their needs. Plate armor, giant shields, and sleek, sharp arrows would deck out my generals’ attire. Unfortunately, I couldn’t use nearly as much as I would have wanted to, as I had received a last-second request from Necron to create three additional special items that he would explain his need for later.

However, I was still able to complete the upgrade for my weapon - a double-bladed axe even larger and stronger than my last, and my armor - a necromium mask, gauntlets, greaves, boots, and a solid metal shield. I hadn’t made myself a chestplate, but once my final wish was completed, I wouldn’t even need one.

I still had several ingots of Enchanted Necromium left, and I knew exactly what I was going to do with it. It had been one of the things I had wanted ever since I knew I was going to become a Champion. I was both terrified and excited of what it was, and either way I was ready for it to happen.

The Professor entered my chamber, flanked by several guards carrying crates, which I knew were filled with hundreds of small hollow needles. They set them down on the middle of the floor, and eyed the pile of Necromium on the ground. “Enchanted Necromium?” he asked. “That will be much harder to work with than regular Necromium. Are you really sure you want to try this?”

“Absolutely sure.” I did not hesitate in my response.

One of the guards picked up the Necromium and carried it to the forge to melt it down, while the other moved the crates behind me and opened them. They picked up one of the needles, which had a long tube connected to one end. He held it behind my back, and then carefully jabbed it into my shoulder.

Pain flared up immediately, and I did all I could to resist it. Fortunately, I was already rather resilient, so I shook it off quickly, but it wouldn’t be nearly as effective as more were jabbed into me.

The guard behind me continued picking up needles and inserting them into various positions on my back, legs, and arms. I knew that not only were they piercing through my skin and muscles, but were drilling themselves directly into my bones. All 206 of them, in fact, even the joints in my fingers and toes. Why? I was going to infuse my bones with Necromium.

Even despite my incredibly necrotic resilience, the needles still locked down my muscles almost entirely. I could barely move as the final needles were stabbed into my jaw and skull, and all of the needles were hooked up to a special nozzle. The other guard finished melting the necromium and brought it over.

Before he continued, the professor asked one final time if I really was ready. I managed a crude not, and he hesitantly placed the nozzle into the Necromium and activated it. The Necromium flew up the tube and trough each of the needles, and it felt like liquid fire was being injected into my veins.

The pain was unfathomable, and my resilience couldn’t even compare. I could barely even think about anything other than the horrible burning sensation I felt from the Necromium. Fortunately, it was over as soon as it began. The bucket was now full of melted bone marrow rather than metal, and the Necromium had entirely replaced my bones. I stretched my muscles, and ejected many of the needles that were previously jabbed into me, which I had actually forgot were there.

I could barely feel any pain now. None of the needles in my body even fazed me anymore, and I even pulled some of them out and tossed them aside. I picked up the giant axe next to me and picked it up with no struggle at all, and swung it around with ease. I was now almost unstoppable.

Spoiler: Chapter 2 - Slayer

The Mosquito Bow, with a frame made out of the highest quality jungle wood, hewn with enchanted necromium metal. The string was spun from the finest magic wool in the islands, and enchanted with the most potent spider poison ever obtained. It would be able to fire toxic arrows, with the ability to stun and slowly kill the target from the inside out.

I slaughtered the spiders, cutting them down in swaths and leaving their corpses in the dirt. Then, after I had killed every single one I could find, I brought them back from the dead all as one, morphing their bodies and souls together to create the ultimate beast of spiders - The Tarantula Broodfather, a spider whose upper body became like that of a human, born to wield the Mosquito Bow.

The Overflux Power Orb, forged as the most exquisite combination of necromium and perfect crystal gemstones, with the ability to bring incredible endurance to its wielder and their armies. This power is even stronger when used by the undead, fueling them even further.

I massacred the wolves, mercilessly crushing them and their packs. One I had decimated every one of the rabid beasts, I pulled them out of the afterlife and formed them together into a beast even more powerful - Sven Packmaster, who would lead the packs of wolves into battle, with the Overflux Power Orb imbedded in its heart, gifting it incomparable vitality.

Finally, the strongest of the three, the Reaper Scythe. A necromium blade and diamond handle, with the power to allow the user to raise souls from the dead, regardless of their ability with necromancy. It could capture the souls of those slain with it, and transform them into powerful undead warriors.

I was about to slay the first of the zombies I would need when I heard a voice.

Maddox…

I brandished the sword out in front of me, and turned to the left and right, attempting to find the source of the voice. “Who are you?”

I am Kaeman, the wither lord that you serve.

I was doubtful. If it really was Kaeman, I was sure he would speak to me in a much grander way, like through a beast of shadow or something. This didn’t feel right. “Why are you here?”

Is this really what you want, Maddox? Creating these machines of war and destruction?

“War and destruction? These are not monsters made to cause war. These are creatures I was tasked to create to further the cause of peace in the islands.”

Do you realize how inane that sounds, Maddox? Creating monsters of war to further the cause of peace? Do you really believe this?

I hesitated for a moment. Was it right? But in the very next moment, my mind hardened. I believed in Necron more than I believed a voice in my head claiming it was Kaeman. “Begone, deceptive spirit. Your lies are nothing to me. Necron is my lord, and I will do as he wishes.”

The voice didn’t respond. I told myself it was some kind of telepathic enemy bent on ruining my loyalty to the Catacombs, but something that they said just resonated with me, and I didn’t know why. How could I serve Necron if I was doubting my own loyalty to him…

After finishing the creation of the final morphed creature, I headed back to the Catacombs to continue the renovation of my floor. I was starting to see why Maxor had used so much Necromium to make the gears - there was so much extra metal that there was little else to do but turn it into some kind of decoration. However, I wasn’t going to waste useful material on such a thing just yet. I had more endeavors to work towards.

Once I had seen how the Necromium infusion of my bones had turned out, I had began to think about similar potential uses to use it. One of my ideas had been to try and create a living suit of armor, with a spirit inside it, controlling its actions. Unfortunately, by the time I had returned, my generals had made almost no progress on the experiment. I refused to stop there, though, I was going to have them keep working until it succeeded.

As much as I wanted to stay and assist with the work on the armor, I had been called on by Goldor to assist him in another mission, along with the Professor and Storm. We were to head to one of the nearby village to recruit a new generation of necromancers. They would be trained as they grew up and would eventually become potentially as powerful as me or the Professor.

The village in question wasn’t very large or far away, and we made it there quickly. It was centered around a large lake connected to a river, and had a lot of docks for fishing. We all stood on a nearby cliff, mostly out of sight from the people in the town, until Storm made the first move.

Instead of heading towards the village to rescue a child or similar, Storm instead walked over to the edge of the cliff, and looked down at it. He conjured up a hand made of fire, and had it hover out in front of him.

“Storm-“

Without warning, the hand flew towards the nearest house to us, setting it ablaze. I heard screams come from the town, as the people panicked at the sudden burning.

“What are you-“

Another house ignited, then another. Soon, half the town was burning, and it didn’t stop there. The three creatures I had made just earlier moved out of the shadows and marched towards the village. People were slain left and right, and carnage was left in the wake of the monsters. Along their path, several undead picked up small children and carried them with them.

Was this really how new necromancers were recruited? Was this how Scarf became a necromancer? The Professor? Bonzo? Was this how I became a necromancer? This wasn’t right. I had thought that our goal was to bring peace to the islands, but this was anything but peace.

Do you see now, Maddox? Necron’s goal is not to bring peace, but chaos and destruction. His vision is a world broken by necromancy, a withering wasteland.

Suddenly, everything that Kaeman had told me earlier made sense. Not only was Necron lying to me, but those like Goldor and Storm still aligned with him despite that. Now I could understand why Maxor had betrayed the Catacombs. He had seen the true atrocities that the necromancers could and would cause.

I watched the village burn in complete shock, unmoving. What should I do?

Spoiler: Chapter 3 - Repentance

I sat in my chamber in silence and solitude. I felt lied to. I felt like everything I knew could be a lie. I just felt… betrayed. I had put all my trust in Necron, and Storm, and Goldor, and then I saw the atrocities they commit… I was numb. I thought all of this was for peace. To bring a perfect world into existence. But it wasn’t. Why did I ever believe?

I looked down at my hand, then at my axe. How much blood might this axe have shed if I hadn’t learned sooner? Would the responsibility for the deaths of thousands be placed on me, because I was tricked into believing the lies of Necron? And not just me, but everything I had created, too. How many innocent lives were taken by the Revenant’s scythe, or the Broodfather’s bow?

I couldn’t just… do nothing about this. Could I simply keep on watching as my brethren in the Catacombs continued murdering hundreds, thousands of people just to further Necron’s greed? I had to do something. But what? I certainly couldn’t take on Necron in a fight. Did I just run away, and never return? Or was there something else I could do?

I threw my axe down onto the floor in frustration, leaving a large crack. I looked out upon the thousands of zombie soldiers I had in my legion, wondering what I could possibly do. Then, as I saw each of their undead faces, I had an idea. The only way to prevent the slayers I had made from killing even more would be to kill them myself. Specifically, the Revenant Horror.

I opened up the doors to my chamber and strode through them, axe back in hand. The soldiers knelt down and looked up at me for orders, but I had none. In fact, I swore I would never even look one in the eyes ever again. Where I was going, I wouldn’t need to. I was going to kill the Revenant Horror and then abandon this old life forever, in every way I knew how.

I couldn’t let this slaughter go on any longer.

The graveyard was empty and barren, as it always was. The zombies never showed themselves unless you set foot onto their soil at night, and after I had killed many of them to fuel the Horror, there were few left. A few of them made slow lunges at me, but I dispatched them without a problem. I had bigger fish to fry, or in this case, zombies.

I stood in front of the emerald altar in the center of the graveyard, my axe drawn. Thunder cracked, and it began to rain, but I wouldn’t let it affect my mission. Fueled with a complete and utter hatred for the monster I had created, I shouted out into the night, “Show yourself, Revenant Horror!”

There was silence for a few moments, save the crashing of the rain and the howl of the storming wind. I tried again. “Show yourself, you horrible fiend! Show yourself to your creator!”

This time, I heard the clanking of armor behind me. I spun around, readying my weapon, and found myself face to face with the monster I had called out from its hiding. The Revenant Horror.

The large undead stood clad in full plate armor, the very same that all my former soldiers wore. Its little exposed skin was riddles with stitches and scars, left over from when I originally summoned it. Its lips were split in a mangled grin, which looked more like a sneer. Finally, the Reaper Scythe it carried had wisps of souls weaving around it, and I knew that the Revenant could summon them as soldiers whenever it wished.

“Why have you returned here, Maddox?” It said, in a guttural, yet condescending, tone. “Are you running away? Are you afraid of death?”
“I never should have created you. Not when everything you do is to cause death and strife. I won’t let that continue.”

“Really?” One of the souls circling the scythe stopped to let out a piercing wail, as if in response. “Sounds to me like you’re just afraid.”

I gripped my axe tighter in my hands, resisting the urge to attack the Horror right then and there. My anger grew hot, replacing any mercy I might have had for the monster. “It is your time to die, foul beast. You are nothing but hellspawn!”

The Revenant Horror cocked it head and split its leer wider, taunting me. “And yet if I am hellspawn… does that not make you hell yourself?”

That was the last straw for me. I rushed at the Horror with my axe, swinging it down upon it. But it had anticipated my attack, raising the handle of the scythe in its defense and spinning away from me, letting my the weight of my axe carry it downwards. Taking advantage of my unbalance, it swung its scythe at me from behind.

Sensing the weapon behind me, I fell into a roll and countered the attack with my axe blade. Sparks flew as the metals clashed, before both of us relented our attacks and stood neutral again. I hadn’t noticed it when I first lunged, but the souls on the Revenant’s scythe were wailing louder than before, screaming in both pain and anger, seemingly directed at me.

It paid no attention to them, instead choosing to rush at me. I deflected its first attack, then parried the next two before responding with an attack of my own, which the Revenant was able to deflect as well. I spun my axe around to the undead’s side and was able to cut out a chunk of its mangled body, but not before its scythe swung down at me.

With little time to react, all I could to was raise my hand to grab the scythe’s handle before it fell on me. I didn’t know if it was strong enough to pierce my helmet, but I wasn’t taking the risk. The fight became a battle of wills - who would be the first one to give in? For a mortal man, they would not have been able to hold up the scythe for more than an instant, but my necromium-infused bones were more than up to the task.

We stayed at a stalemate for several moments, neither of us willing to budge, before I pushed the scythe upwards, then spun away to avoid its downward strike. Both me and the Revenant quickly stood up into defensive positions, eyeing each other in contempt before the Horror introduced its ultimatum.

Listing its scythe high in the air, it began to summon the spirits of the weapon, causing skeletal hands to begin to force their way out of the ground. Easily over a hundred undead started to crawl out of the dirt all around me, and I noticed that the scythe no longer had any souls flowing around it. The Revenant had summoned every single zombie at its disposal just to fight me.

The first undead didn’t even have a chance to react once it was out of the earth, my axe lopping its head off. Instead of the body dropping to the ground like other zombies, it dissolved into dust, which was carried off my the harsh winds. I kept slicing at the slowly growing horde of zombies, cutting down their ranks, but with every one I killed, I would find two more to replace it.

Then, the Revenant decided to rejoin the fray, and I had to deal with additional scythe attacks taken against me as well. The ring of undead started closing in on my, and I barely had any room to move. The closest undead reached their claws out towards me, and the Revenant’s scythe came hurtling at my head, inches away from me.

It never got there.

I had taken careful measures to not only enchant my weapon with the best enhancements available, but also to give it the strongest ability I could find. I knew that in a battle, the results often came down to who had the stronger weapon, and between me and the Revenant, there was a clear winner.

Instead of attacking one of the undead, I swung my axe down at the ground, burying it deep into the earth and activating its ability. A shockwave spread through the dirt, knocking all of my opponents backwards and throwing them across the graveyard. The Revenant was the only one to stay on his feet, and one of the only few to even me staying alive after my ability.

The few undead that did live got up groggily, and several had limbs missing. Even the Horror seemed shaken up by the power of my ability. I yanked my axe out of the ground and faced the fiend with it, ready to get right back into the fight. I rushed directly at it, and although it was able to block the attack, its movements were sluggish, which I quickly took advantage of.

Spinning around the Revenant, I brought my axe down on its right arm, cleaving it right off with a spray of black blood. Then, in a smooth movement, before it could even turn around, I swung my axe at its head, severing it off. The body and head fell to the ground, splashing into a puddle, lifeless again, and all of the undead souls turned into dust. The Revenant was dead. The deed was done.

With the rain pouring down all around me, I threw my axe down onto the ground too. I was done with it. I never wanted to use it again. I wanted to get as far away from this past life as possible, and it would have to start here. Then, after a moment’s pause, I took of my helmet and threw it down with my axe. I looked down at the artifacts on the ground, sinking into the mud, and knelt down. Then, for the first time in all my life, I cried.

Spoiler: Chapter 4 - Sacrifice

I made my way through the streets of the city like a shadow in the night. I kept my cloak tight over my head so as to hide my face, to assure that no one saw what lay beneath. Nobody even spared me a second glance as I passed before them, which is exactly what I wanted. I reached up with my hand and touched the mark in the cheek from outside my hood, feeling it thrum with dark power. If only I had never let it inside me.

Once again, seeing the hundreds of people going about their days, not one of them knowing about the great evil that lay just miles away make me think about what might have been. Would I have destroyed this city? How many of these people might have ended up killed by my hand?

I had slain my worst creation, and with that I may have saved hundreds, even thousands of lives. But yet, I still had a lingering feeling that told me something wasn’t right. Had I really done enough? All of the other Champions were still out there, and they might come for me. I couldn’t just simply let all these people die and not lift a finger. I would be just as bad as the one who would do the killing, then - and I didn’t want that to be true.

And yet, at the same time, I just wanted to learn how to live a “normal” life. A life just like the rest of all of these people, happy and blissful in everything. How could I do both? I wanted to run away from this reality - that I used to be a monster just like Goldor, Storm, Necron - but my mind wouldn’t let me forget.

I was in the center of town now, where the town hall was, and there were people everywhere. People talking, arguing, shouting, vendors announcing their items, even performers. I cared for little of it. My aim was to get to the town hall, where I knew Mayor Seraphine would be working. She might be one of the only people who would understand what was going on, though.

Before I made it, though, I was interrupted when many of the people around me began to scream in terror and rush past me, fleeing from something behind me. I spun around into the now empty street behind me as the last of the townsfolk tricked past me and saw what they were running from.

“Maddox.” Goldor said, venom dripping from his voice. His massive sword was almost as large as the buildings he stood in front of, making them seem tiny. He was covered nearly head to toe with necromium plate armor, decorated with insignia denoting him as the leading general of Necron’s armies.

“Did you believe you could betray the Wither King and get away with it? Did you really think you could just run away with no consequences?” Goldor brandished his sword in front of him, one of the only who could even lift it. “Today you will receive your judgement.”

I heard a door open behind me, and looked behind me to see Seraphine coming out of the town hall. She began a question, but quickly stopped when she saw Goldor and his massive blade. I knew he was only here for me, but I didn’t want anyone caught in the crossfire. “Get inside!” I shouted, before I spun back around just inside to see Goldor’s greatsword falling down on me.

An instant before it would be slicing into my head, I reached up with both hands and grabbed both sides of the blade, stopping its momentum just before it hit me. Still, I was shoved back by the sheer force of the attack, causing my feet to dig deep into the road.

I heard a gasp behind me as Seraphine witnessed the attack. She was still out here. Turning my head towards her direction, I shouted again, but this time with more force, “Get inside!” This time, she took heed to my words, and retreated into the hall and shut the door.

“Oh are you being protective of your little human friends, Maddox? So unfortunate that they’re going to all die anyways!”

My head snapped back towards Goldor after his taunt. I wanted to make a response, but I was too preoccupied with lifting up the massive sword to prevent it from killing me. So, instead, I remained silent, choosing to instead glare at Goldor until he swung his sword high up in the air again. I let my hands down and backs a few steps back, bracing myself for another impact.

This time, his sword came from the side, and I held out my forearms like a shield to protect me. It struck my arms with a resounding clang, as the metal in the blade clashed with the metal in my bones. Goldor seemed surprised, as he had likely expected that despite my enhances strength, the sword would slice easily through my arm.

Technically, it had, as it had cleanly cut through my skin and muscle. But my necromium bones underneath were almost completely unscathed. Then, as Goldor watched on, the wounds knitted themselves back together, another perk of my metal skeleton. Before long, there was nothing left to even show that the wounds had been there.

“What have you done to yourself?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I responded, flexing and stretching my newly healed forearms. “I replaced my bones with Necromium.”

Goldor didn’t respond, and I could tell he was reevaluating me, trying to think of any weak spots that he could exploit. But thanks to my bones and necrotic resilience, I doubted there were any. Replacing my bones with Necromium was likely the one thing I didn’t want to have back from my time in the Catacombs, as painful as it was. I silently thanked Scarf for giving me the inspiration. Hopefully he wouldn’t turn out like the other Champions.

I snapped back to reality from my thinking just in time to deflect another attack from Goldor. Unfortunately, this time, the blade struck my wrist, right between the bones, completely severing my hand and throwing it across the road. Horrible pain flared up and it felt like eh end of my arm was on fire. But yet, it felt like I could still feel my arm, somehow. I looked over at it, and saw a strand of blood connecting the stump in my arm and my severed hand.

Suddenly, my hand flew back towards my body and reconnected with my arm, twisting all of the bones back into their correct place in an instant. I flexed my finger back and forth, and it felt like nothing had even changed. My hand had reattached perfectly, somehow, but I wasn’t about to question it when it might just have saved my life.

Goldor, after just witnessing my wounds heal in an instant, was now even more shocked after seeing my arm reattach itself. Apparently, I was near invulnerable, and I preyed on Goldor’s surprise quickly.

He lifted his blade to block my first punch, but his weapon was far too slow to block the second. Then the third, and the fourth. I landed hit after hit, pushing Goldor farther and farther back. Even more incredible, my unarmed attacks were causing serious damage, denting Goldor’s skull inwards. Rage took over me, and I continued to beat his bones and armor.

At some point, I ripped off his helmet, but in my fury I didn’t even realize it. I also manage to disarm him, too, and began attacking him with his own weapon. In the moment, I didn’t even want Goldor to die, because I wanted to keep hitting him, and let out all the anger and fury I had stored up inside me. Finally, I struck the killing blow with his sword, slicing his head off, even ripping through some of the metal in his helmet from my sheer strength.

Once my anger at the evil wither general subsided, I turned around to see that a gathering was taking place near the town hall. Hundreds of people were watching me, and likely had watched me as I beat up Goldor. Some looked on in awe, others were shocked and mortified.

Yes, I may have saved many of them from their deaths, but I had also just killed Goldor in cold blood in front of many of them, and many had probably seen my incredible regeneration. But did they see me as a hero, a savior of the city?

Or did they look at me like I was a villain?

Spoiler: Chapter 5 - Atonement

The town was having a celebration today.

Not because of me, though. Because of some expedition to the Crimson Isles that I had never known about, considering I was holed up in the Catacombs. From what I knew, the team had returned after a few months of researching, and were being celebrated because of it. The Crimson Isles were incredibly dangerous, even for some of the undead, and so I could understand how it would require incredible bravery to even take a single step onto the islands.

All of the expedition members were decked out in a familiar black-silver metal, which means that not only had they found Netherite, but they had been able to mine and forge it, an accomplishment just on its own. In addition, some of the armor appeared to contain scales, and although I didn’t know what kind of monster in the Crimson Isles would have scales, it had to have been powerful.

As my eyes drifted through the group of explorers, one of them in particular stood out to me, and she appeared to be the leader. She didn’t wear visible armor, but instead a cloak that almost looked like it was on fire, , which obscured the top of her face. Although I didn’t know her name, I almost had a feeling that I recognized her - but I didn’t know why.

Her eyes scanned the crown as well, and she seemed to linger on me for a few moments, almost as if she had a similar experience. I didn’t have Goldor’s blade with me - I had discovered a unique property where I could cause the weapon to vanish and reappear at will, so I wouldn’t have a three-meter blade with me at all times. It seemed like she recognized me as well.

She made her way up to me after the main celebration, when the crowd was beginning to disperse, confirming my theory that she recognized me as well. As she neared, I was able to notice more details about her outfit. I seemed that, indeed, the cloak she was wearing was made of fire - but how she was able to wear it without getting burned, I didn’t know.

As she walked towards me, the tongues of flame from her cloak licked at passerby, but didn’t cause any damage. Additionally, I noticed that she wore some kind of pin, likely representing her as an explorer. Her expression looked tough and serious, but looking closer, it seemed like something was off about it; like she was trying to hide something.

“You,” she said to me, crossing her arms over her chest. “Who are you?”

For a moment, I debated lying about my name, but I decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. So, I told her. Her eyes glazed over, and she seemed lost in thought for a few seconds, before she focused back on me. “I… I feel like I recognize that name.”

She glared at me, trying to soak in every little bit of information she could about me, trying to find out who I was, and I did the same for her. And yet, it seemed like neither of us could really remember the other. Something odd was definitely going on.

“And what about you?” I asked. “Who are you?”

She seemed shocked for a moment that I didn’t know who she was. Given that she seemed like some sort of celebrity here, I supposed that the confusion wasn’t unreasonable, but my question was still genuine.

“You really don’t know who I am?” She questioned. “I’m Elle, the leader of, of the Crimson Isles Expedition.”

I caught her stutter, the first outward sign of nervous ness that she had shown thus far. There was just something off about her, but I was willing to look past it to find out why it felt like I knew her.

Elle looked around at the crowd in the main square, before turning back to me. “We should probably find somewhere more, private… Maddox, to talk. I just can’t put my finger on who you are, and I feel like this is something important. Come. I know a place.”

The Graveyard was one of the only places that really felt eerie to me. It seemed to just have an aura that made me almost paranoid, but now that the Revenant Horror was gone, there was little real danger here. At the very least, I would take it over the middle of a bustling town where anyone could overhear our conversation.

Along the way to the graveyard, I had been thinking about any way that I could have possibly known Elle, but nothing really seemed to add up. Perhaps I had known her before I was recruited as a necromancer, but if that was true, then how would she have survived without becoming a necromancer herself? Maybe she had discovered Necron’s true motives and escaped like I had? I just didn’t know, and this was my opportunity to perhaps find out… and maybe remember my past before I became a necromancer.

There was a bench near the inside of the entrance to the graveyard, and both of us sat on it. It felt oddly romantic, even though I knew that this was for a much more serious discussion than any relationship could hold. However, before we had a chance to talk, we were interrupted by a voice.

You can’t run from your past, Maddox…

I leapt up from my seat and stood ready, and so did Elle, as small fires ignited in her hands. I didn’t summon Goldor’s sword yet, but I was ready to in an instant if needed. “What was that?” Elle asked, her voice both nervous and brave at the same time. I didn’t know either, and it certainly wasn’t Kaeman’s voice. So what could it be?

Then, in the distance, I saw a figure rise up from the ground. If there was enough light, I might have recognized it, but the shadows obscured its details. All I was able to see from this far away was that it seemed to be some kind of undead, wearing a gladiator’s mask, and wielding an axe. An axe that seemed far too familiar…

I summoned Goldor’s sword, slamming it into the ground and then grabbing Elle’s hand, and I wasn’t a moment too late. The figure slammed my old axe into the ground, sending a quake directly towards us. Me and Elle were only able to stay on our feet due to my quick thinking.

“Who are you?” I shouted at the figure, who was approaching from the darkness. It didn’t respond, but I was slowly able to pick out more details from it - not only was the axe my old one that I had thrown down days prior, but so was its mask, and I had an idea of who it was. It was the Revenant Horror. And somehow it had come back to life.

I looked behind me to see Elle frozen in fear, some kind of supernatural paranoia filling her mind. It was up to me to best the Horror now. I turned back to it, and asked it, this time almost in curiosity, “How?”

The Horror stopped and looked me in the eyes, then spoke in a hollow monotone. “You, Maddox, would know more about that than anyone else, wouldn’t you? After all, you created me.” It turned to face Elle, who was still frozen. “And I suppose you have yet to tell your friend here about that?”

“That is of no importance! How have you returned back to life?”

“A simple answer. Necrotic magic is even more powerful than you believe, Maddox, and you have yet to fully understand its abilities. You live in fear and hiding, when you could be living a life of immortality. In that sense, I pity you.”

I picked up Goldor’s blade and held it out in front of me to counter the Horror’s rushing strike, then swung it in a massive arc, cutting the undead across the chest. It stumbled back, but showed little physical damage, and didn’t even bleed. Then, instead of attacking again, the Horror activated another ability, one I had never seen before, lifting the axe over its head as a swirl of magic appeared around it.

The blades of the axe began to grow rapidly, quickly becoming as large as the trees around us, reaching up into the air. I had little time to react as the Horror spun the now massive blade around and struck Goldor’s greatsword, sending it flying across the graveyard, then swung back above me and came crashing down, and would have cleaved right through me, and perhaps Elle too, if I hadn’t acted.

Just like with Goldor a few days earlier, I was forced to hold the blade up above me with my bare hands, but this time, it was significantly more of a struggle. My muscles and bones strained to keep the weapon from hitting me. Somehow, as I was holding it up, I felt it getting lighter above me, almost as if it was shrinking in size. I looked up to find that, indeed, it was, and I took full advantage of it.

I carefully stepped away from the blade and let it drop into the ground. The Horror, not expecting my sudden movement, was unable to pull it up in time for my attack. I rushed behind it and grabbed its helmet - my old helmet- and threw it off, revealing its mangled skin underneath. Specifically, my eyes were drawn to the neck, where it seemed like the skin had not healed nearly as well. So, that was where I attacked.

I summoned Goldor’s sword back to me, and just like I had with him, sliced the Horror at its neck. Its head came off cleanly, and this time, just for good measure, I absorbed all of the necrotic energy I could from it. The Horror would terrorize the world no more.

I turned around to look back at Elle, whose expression was a mixture of shock, fright, and awe. She had seen everything, and heard everything too. It seemed I had a lot of explaining to do.

 

Wait.. this isn't skyblock off topic!

 

wtf!!!! (what the freak!!!) skyblock (hypixel (not wynncraft))

 

Bold choice posting skyblock fanfiction on the Wynncraft forums

 

Might not be the best place for it, but it's cool nonetheless. Thanks for sharing.