Assault — Vladimir Duran

A Rising Knight: Vol2, Iss1
Welcome back to the war. It missed you. Follow Vlad's declaration of revolution it's time to put up or shut up. He'll have to fight through a fully manned military strong hold as a one man raiding party. Will the memory of burning towers and smoke blacked skies cripple him or will he find a better way.

Excerpt

An arc of blood soared through the air, gushing from the torn throat of a man Wraith had just killed. His first barrage of spells had chilled the room far below freezing and even fresh blood could not hold on to its heat. Droplets froze to glittering rubies in midair and shattered when they hit ground.

Wraith released his grip on the man's hair and let the body fall to the ground. The blade he'd taken out of the man's hand and used to kill him clattered to the floor after him. He stood alone in the blasted conference room, I Will Not Bow1, playing in his ears. That was the last of the Hunters in this room.

Eleven other bodies were strewn haphazardly around the room. Some lay like broken dolls, no marks visible on them other than trails of blood running from their eyes. A few slumped over sparse utilitarian furniture, hideous gashes exposing their innards. A greasy stain trailed down one of the walls to a wreckage of flesh and bone slumped on the ground beneath it. Hoarfrost and points of ice slowly spread across everything, tucking the massacre in under a blanket of white. The shadow mantel of the Wraith played with those points.

If not for that blanket the abattoir sent of death would have threatened to choke him.