Near a cliff swept by howling sea winds, Aaron and Mepham faced each other amid soft grass and thick shrubs.
Tendrils now covered the Warlock's missing left hand. A sticky film also coated many of his earlier wounds, and tentacle-like growths had sprouted from the torn flesh, covering the gaps.
Mepham held a slender shortsword. He had lost his weapon while fleeing, and Aaron's flames had ruined his spellbook. The Warlock was in terrible shape. Had those tendrils not stabilized his wounds, he might already have bled to death.
Aaron could no longer tell whether his plan had succeeded or failed.
Mepham likewise watched the young man before him, astonished by Aaron's growth.
In just two months, Aaron had gone from an apprentice trainee Knight to a powerful spellcaster?
Well, he was a Godspawn.
The Warlock could sense that Aaron's power now rivaled his own. Gravely wounded as he was, his only chance of winning lay in his wealth of experience and the mercy of his Patron-and even the supreme Dark Sun.
There was still a chance!
Mepham studied Aaron carefully. Novice spellcasters like him were prone to leaving openings.
"Before we begin, I have a question," Aaron said. "Abby. What did you do to that girl?"
"Abby? Who's that?" Mepham did not understand.
"The little girl in the fishing village. The one who liked following you around," Aaron said coldly.
"Huh?" The Warlock thought for a moment before remembering that there had indeed been someone like that. Realization dawned on him. "Oh, her. I sacrificed her, of course."
Mepham's expression remained indifferent, as though he were discussing something utterly trivial. "I've sacrificed so many people. Who can remember them all? She's probably somewhere in the sea now, living as a Sahuagin."
"Seriously, she followed me around all day. Annoying