The first blow of my maul fell with no more force than my hatred. It was aimed at a boot—the foot it was supposed to protect. But the plates could do nothing against my hatred. I saw it burst, and the foot exploded. With the rebound, I used the shield to strike the face that had lowered to see why his limb hurt so much. While the shield did its work, my maul already flew toward the second enemy's knee. He collapsed satisfyingly. Then I faced the first wretch. He had already put his full-body shield between him and my rage. Now I activated both runes on my maul. I could feel the incredible force of the charged maul. It traveled at a speed that made my arm a blur. The strike was upward, traced diagonally. It struck the sacred warrior and sent him flying into two others. I appreciated that, as the blow was so strong it spun me twice on my foot. At that moment, I was very glad I had slept. Even with my new physical strength, my arm went numb, but it was worth it. There were five fewer. I thought it was time to reason with them.
Amid groans that sounded louder than they actually were—except for the one with the foot and the one with the knee—I began shouting at them. I explained that they had attacked a territorial being, but there were no bodies of anyone in the cave. They did not let me continue.
"That does not matter," they said. "Evil corrupted their beings. The only thing left for them is to die to purify their guilt."
Did they understand themselves when they spoke? Or did they just spew whatever filth came into their heads? Gentlemen, I asked, we can talk. Death as an option serves nothing. There is no life after. Why despise life with unnecessary deaths? Return to your home. You who have one, take care of it, educate your children, enjoy your descendants.
As if I were speaking to the stones of the enclosure, they looked at me with self-importance.
"You are foolish, dwarf," the warriors declared. The few healers who had entered did not seem so convinced. They were still too far to heal these two. It seemed those three in the back would not move again—I had to remember that blow; it would help me in this battle.
"You are stupid to doubt the power of the paladin warriors. We are over a hundred. We are the power of light. And you are a dwarf who strayed from the path to serve a Dark Lord. Even if only one survives, our duty is to ensure you die!"
That was the end of dialogue. I pulled a bag of iron filings from my garments and threw it into the air above their heads. One of the acolytes attacked with a sacred lash, bursting it—just as I had planned.
The chain lightning was an attack I had learned in my new existence. It was nothing more than a discharge of energy that jumped from one enemy to another, each time with less force. However, if it had means of transfer, the force was not lost. So I hid behind my shield and invoked it. The chain scattered until it became a true net, attacking all who were there. Even among the healers, only two managed to put up a shield in time. The rest ended up, at best, paralyzed. But due to the high level of metal in their bodies, most began to cook in their metal tombs. The few paladins still conscious kept shouting enchantments...? I did not know why. None of them were mages. Moreover, their spells were a joke: Paladin's Temperance, Fortitude, Invulnerability? There were no faith-based enchantments. Yet these men were dying while exclaiming them. However, more were coming. Among them came a bearded mage. He was going to be a problem. Immediately, he barked instructions and cast a +2 protection against lightning... He must be the leader. Should I reason with him? But he dispelled my doubt. As most surrounded me, he instructed them to destroy any eggs they found to prevent attacks. They killed to avoid being killed? This man was crazy. He made my blood boil. It was only fair that theirs did too.
None of them noticed, not with their shields and maces constantly attacking me. The rune of the demolishing blow took a minute to recharge, so I used it to clear a row of enemies. Each time a line of them fell, the rest separated. Almost all used protection cast by the mages disguised as priests. But my blow was not magical—at least not yet. I struck physically. The maul did physical damage. Anti-magic barriers had no effect. Moreover, enemies over one meter eighty surrounded a dwarf of one meter twenty. In theory, they should only encircle me with their shields while those behind or they themselves... Each time they tried, my maul was charged and ready to open gaps. The entire cavern was heating up. We were already at least forty-five degrees Celsius. Being a smith, this presented no problem for me. It was hot, but I could still move. They were not so lucky. Each time they removed their damage shields to recharge—something I saw cost them more effort due to keeping the living alive—they struggled.
I was sure I had received several blows. The scales had resisted but were not invulnerable. The pain was strong, but no stronger than my fury. Each time I wanted to relent, I saw the damage they had done, and my determination renewed. Moreover, I still had a trick up my sleeve. As protected as they were against magic, it would be a waste of my strength to attack them with it. So I consecrated all that mana to keeping my bones together after each warrior's assault. I protected my head and lungs. The rest of my body, my armor took care of. When I felt tired, I began absorbing all the heat around me. This cooled them a little, then made them sluggish when the temperature dropped to five degrees and kept falling. All that heat did not disappear. Even in magic, energy was conserved, so I concentrated it around me. That burned their skin, and some kept their distance. It exhausted me too. I dehydrated very quickly. But I could not let them tire me out. It was now or never. I pulled all the bags of filings I had saved from my garments and threw them into the air. My aura burst them and melted the filings—I had no idea what temperature surrounded me. I must be burning magic to a great extent to avoid becoming a dwarven torch.
The lightning rune was active. I could feel the air charged. The impact was brutal. All received a shock. Most wore armor and damp clothes from condensation—except me. Their plate armor was cracked from the temperature changes. Everything was ready. Yet I was tired, and the impact was more than my magic could resist. I was thrown and crashed against the wall. As I lost consciousness, I wanted to think the promise made to me was true. If not, all those hisses were a sign that I would fall into some inferno with snakes or something. Would you be proud of me... my son?