Bosses - Blades of Fire Database

So this is all that remains of Aecides Alexander! He looks nothing like the portraits I’ve seen. He doesn’t appear to be much of a threat, especially given how swiftly Aran dealt with him. Yet, something tells me this isn’t the end of it…

It might just be a legend, but I’ve come across references to a Thaumaturgist myth about an immortal entity born from the devotion and practice of evil. The details I’ve read strongly resemble the path Aecides followed in life, with the cruelty and viciousness of his deeds. Most revealing, however, is that the myth states only an undead being can transform into this entity. Here’s what I’ve learned:

The immortal entity is said to wear legendary pearlescent armor and wield a massive shield made of the same material. It is incredibly difficult to defeat, though not impossible. Overcoming it requires keen observation, patience, and the ability to stay alive long enough to exploit opportunities.

In addition to being a formidable warrior, the entity is a powerful mage whose attacks surpass any attempt to block them.

Since the entity is immortal, it cannot be killed outright. Instead, it must be sealed away in a place with magic stronger than its own. The entity will do everything in its power to nullify that magic and impose its dark power.

Finally, here he is, Cavimo Rex, the Lord of the Crimson Fort. His presence chills the blood, and I barely feel the quill in my hand. Though I feel compassion for this wretched being, panic invades me when he looks at us with his empty eye sockets and approaches, dragging his gigantic sword. But I cannot falter, I am a witness to this adventure, and Aran needs my notes. Let us recall the tragedy of the Crimson Fort and its fearsome host:

Cavimo, like the other inhabitants of the Fort, is a Cursed One, tireless and eternal in madness.

His story is marked by three nightmares:

The first nightmare is red. Death. A legendary cavalry charge, the Red Charge for the conquest of the Fort. Cavimo won, but in his mind, he saw defeat, walking among the dead whose blood stained the Fort and the surrounding land.

The second nightmare is green. Hunger. The crops ruined by the corrupted land. Believing the Forgers had abandoned him, Cavimo turned to the sly Autharks, who deceived him with false promises. This brought the curse that afflicts the place and all who dare enter.

The third nightmare is golden. Fire. Upon discovering the Authark deception, Cavimo tried to burn the Crimson Fort. But the red wood never burned, and the dead rose from the curse. There was no escape, not even for his only son, the prince, whom Aran and I grew fond of.

When Aran pierced Queen Nerea with his blade, a Thaumaturgist miasma erupted from her body, solidifying into a grotesque form that crawled painfully away. Before Aran’s eyes, the shape morphed into that of a human figure - Erin, Nerea’s younger brother, fleeing for his life.

I cannot fathom the torment Aran must have felt upon realizing that his beloved Nerea, dead at his feet by his own hand, was innocent, enchanted and controlled by Erin all along. Mad with rage, Aran charged at Erin, but the Royal Guard subdued him and locked him in a cell within the Palace.

Erin now seeks to renew his pact with the Thaumaturgists! We must stop him at all costs, or there will be no future for anyone.

I know that Aran can do it. I trust him implicitly.

Ashkhanar, once one of the Three Kings of Antiquity who sacrificed themselves to save humanity, is now a colossal abomination - a grotesque mockery of his former royal lineage. He is a terrifying adversary, summoned from the dimension where the Three Kings are imprisoned. Here are my notes:

Ashkhanar’s armor is nearly impenetrable.

His attacks are massive. Forget about blocking, focus on dodging instead.

He is slow, so counterattacking from behind is a viable strategy.

Exercise caution when distancing yourself. Ashkhanar casts powerful spells that can trap you.

Beltharun, the Red Monarch, was one of the Three Kings who sacrificed their souls to Thaumaturgy and used their dark power to crush the Authark revolt, a victory that ultimately led to their own downfall. The volcano within Beltharun increases its pressure during combat until it reaches its limit. Here’s what you need to know:

The final eruption will cover the ground with lava and fire. Watch your step.

His massive saber burns with flames, greatly enhancing its power. Blocking his attacks is not advisable.

A good strategy is to attack aggressively during the moments when Beltharun is recharging his flaming power. Don’t wait for the volcano to erupt!

King Narameth, also known as the Lord of Lightning, sacrificed his immortal soul for the sake of Humanity. It’s paradoxical that he now seeks to kill us. You can read more in “The Legend of the Three Kings” in my Chronicles. Now for the combat notes:

Narameth is a master of lightning. If his magic affects you, strike steel against floors or walls to discharge yourself.

If lightning magic ensnares you, any attack you take while electrified will inflict multiplied damage.

Beware of his ranged attacks, keep this in mind when distancing yourself from him.

Weapons with wooden handles will insulate you from Narameth’s magic.

What irony! Poetic justice written in the blood of the unfortunate King Koko, dismembered and devoured alive by a thousand Morlocks who will soon be hungry again. And his loyal subjects? I doubt they even cared for their ill-fated, devoured leader.

They’re probably already killing each other to crown a new one… Here’s my illustration - at least something of King Koko will remain for the annals of history.

I have never been so close to Queen Nerea as today, in the courtyard of the Iron Castle. She appeared out of nowhere, majestic, and fixed her gaze upon Aran. Something happened, I can’t be sure, but I thought I saw her make a subtle gesture with her left hand, something characteristic of certain Thaumaturgist spells… then they both stood still for a few seconds… then she approached Aecides, whispered something in his ear, and vanished without a trace.

I have seen that gesture from the Queen before. I remember the day of her coronation. I remember the anticipation giving way to disbelief when the Queen spoke in the language of the Thaumaturgists and made that very same gesture. I remember her army blocking the exits, surrounding the crowd, and drawing their weapons.

Those among us who were armed also drew their weapons, only to watch in horror as their steel turned to stone before their eyes… Abbot Dorin got me out of there, but many died that day. Aran told me in his cabin that his purpose was to kill the Queen. What I saw today in the courtyard of the Iron Castle tells me that he is not prepared for that yet.

Today, in the Abbey’s cloister, I once again recognized how incredibly difficult it will be for Aran to kill the Queen. He stood frozen before an ancient statue of her. I doubt that his thoughts were filled with happy memories, but I cannot be sure, as he is extremely reserved and reveals nothing to me.

My history books offer little insight. From them, I learned that Aran’s father was a high-ranking officer in the royal guard, whose family fell from grace after being accused of high treason. I am starting to piece things together: I believe that Aran and Princess Nerea were lovers, and it was this forbidden relationship that led to the downfall of Aran and his family. Surely, the King never intended for his heir to wed a commoner.

If Aran holds himself responsible for his family’s ruin, if he was torn apart from the woman he loved, and if that woman is now the sorceress he is destined to kill, I cannot even begin to fathom the weight of the burden he bears.

I never would have imagined that Erin, Nerea’s younger brother, was the Thaumaturgist manipulating events from the shadows! What madness and what tragedy! Aran has slain the Queen, while Erin has emerged unscathed and is now poised to be crowned King. Aran is left with nothing but revenge and a lifetime of remorse for having killed Nerea. I do not even dare to ask him how he feels, so I will attempt to express my own emotions through my art.

I almost fainted when Tok uttered the name Thalmudak! That smelly, crazy ogre claimed to have personally seen Queen Nerea unearth and resurrect the Athanatoi and saw their leader pledge allegiance to her. If it weren’t for the Athanatoi marauders we’ve encountered, I wouldn’t believe the corpulent fool at all.

I remember spending entire nights reading stories about the Athanatoi, about how they were torn from their distant world against their will and how, with false promises, they were recruited to fight for the Thaumaturgists against the Forgers. Thalmudak, their leader, fascinated me.

It was said that he let enemy survivors go, even tending to their wounds after battle. Poems and songs have been written about him. That he breathes the same air as me today fills me with both terror and awe.

It was inevitable and yet something that should never have happened. Aran and Thalmudak, face to face. The battle of the millennium. Thank goodness the Titan Forger left Thalmudak badly injured beforehand, because otherwise Aran wouldn’t have made it out alive.

I still have to pinch myself to make sure it wasn’t a dream. I admit I wished for Aran’s victory, but I enjoyed the confrontation and I know that I will remember it as long as I live. Here is my illustration of the noble and brave Thalmudak, king of the Athanatoi!

Normally, I feel anguish watching Aran cut through the infected hordes that block our path to the Royal Palace. But this time, I found satisfaction in witnessing the Matriarch’s defeat. If she and her minions had souls, they would deserve to be cast into the deepest pit of the Forging Hell, and in my anger, I have prayed for it to be so.

The thought that Aran, his steel, and my meager skills are all that stand against this terror is beyond what I can express. I try not to dwell on it as I finish my illustration of this abominable creature.

This is the tale of a cursed creature, whom I shall name Vhoroo, though that is not his true name. Centuries ago, Vhoroo, a petty thief, attempted to rob an Authark temple and was caught in the act.

The Autharks showed no mercy to thieves and imposed upon him their most dreadful Thaumaturgist curse. They transformed his body into a grotesque mass of deformities, cursed his true name so that anyone who uttered it would perish instantly, and condemned him to the solitude of eternal life.

Since then, Vhoroo has been shunned by all. He fled to the Kar-Lethel Swamp, where he descended into madness, losing even the ability to speak. Now, all he does is dig dens and hoard everything he steals. Though he no longer understands why he does this, he cannot resist the compulsion. Thus, it has been since that fateful day he attempted to rob the Autharks, and so it shall be for all eternity.