Andrea looked nervously out of the window at the dark farmland. The animals were all put away, and the dogs were yapping playfully in their pens. But something was wrong. Yusif wasn't home. Her husband was due back from town hours ago, yet the sun had set and now there were nothing but the stars to light his way. If he was still alive.

"Damned things." she muttered. "Why'd they have to come here, of all places."

She hoped against hope that Yusif hadn't become a victim of the metal-fanged creatures that had been seen in the woods. They had always been spotted on the OTHER side of town... the opposite side from her humble farm. But what if they had circled around? What if Cirelon's meddling had driven them to them this way? What if they caught poor Yusif by surprise...?

She sighed. Surprised or not, there was no defense against those things. That's why no one went out at night any more. That's why Yusif must certainly be dead.

Andrea stepped away from the window and made her fifth circuit around the house... checking all of the door and windows, ensuring they were locked. Then she sat down in her chair and faced the front door. Her legs were crossed, and her slipper bobbed nervously up and down on the tip of her foot.

She waited.

And waited.

The dogs began to howl. The howling changed to a frenzy of snarling and barking. Andrea's heart leapt into her chest. She looked around, wondering where she could hide.

The barking continued, which meant the dogs were still alive. This couldn't be what she thought... this was something else.

What's going on? She rushed to the window and looked out in the direction of the dog pens. Yusif?

There was something there. A shape, lurching slowly past the pens toward the house.

"Yusif?" she whispered.

Why would the dogs be barking at Yusif?

The shape continued to approach the house. It was a man. A very large man. Its movements were slow and stiff, like... like nothing that Andrea had seen with her own eyes, and yet it matched her husband's description of one of Cirelon's golems. One of the huge, hulking, metal things that had been 'protecting' the town since those other creatures arrived. But what was it doing here?

She stood in the window and watched it come. She heard it. The sound was like their old, rusty gate blowing in a stiff wind. The footsteps were like large rocks thudding into the ground. The sounds grew louder and louder as the thing approached, moving straight towards the front door.

The dishes and glass fixtures began to rattle, and then clink together from the thing's thunderous footfalls.

Then everything stopped.

Silence.

"GO AWAY!" Andrea shouted.

Silence.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT HERE!?! GO BACK TO CIRELON!"


"A.N.D.R.3.A"
Andrea jumped. It said her name. It was rough, and not even closely human... but the thing had said her name!

"GO AWAY!" she backed even further away from the door.


"A.N.D.R.3.A. 1.T.S. M.3. Y.U.S.1.F."
"W-What?"

Had that hideous thing said it was her husband?

"Go away! My... My husband is due back any second!"


"A.N.D.R.3.A. H.3.L.P. M.E. H.3. D.1.D. S.0.M.3.T.H.1.N.G.
T.0. M.3."
"Yusif?"


"A.N.D.R.3.A. L.3.T. M.3. 1.N., P.L.3.A.S.3. 1.M.
H.U.R.T."
"Y-Yusif?" Andrea approached the door, but couldn't bring herself to open it. Golems didn't talk, did they? But if it wasn't a golem, what WAS this thing? "I-If you're Yusif then you have the key!"


"1.M. C.0.N.F.U.S.3.D. L.0.S.T. H.3. D.1.D. S.0.M.3.T.H.1.N.G."
"Who?"


"C.I.R.3.L.0.N. H.3. H.U.R.T. M.3."
"What? What did Cirelon do?"


"1. D.0.N.T. K.N.0.W. 1.M. S.1.C.K. 1.M. C.0.M.1.N.G. 1.N."
The rusty gate sound started once more, and then front door disintegrated as the huge, metal behemoth crashed through it.

Andrea screamed. The thing wasn't human. The golem was at least eight feet in height, with curved metal plates for muscles and sharp rotating gears for joints. The face was just a series of holes poked into a roughly head-shaped globe. No eyes. No teeth. Just cold, empty metal.


"D.0.N.T. B.3. A.F.R.A.1.D. A.N.D.R.3.A. 1.T.S. 0.N.L.Y. M.3."
"No!" Andrea screamed and backed herself into a corner as the thing bore down on her. "Go away! Leave me alone!"


"D.0.N.T. S.A.Y. T.H.A.T. 1.T.S. M.3. Y.U.S.1.F."
The iron golem advanced. It lifted its arms toward her and Andrea felt the metal touch her skin. The thing pulled her into its cold embrace.


"A.N.D.R.3.A. 1. L.0.V.3. Y.0.U. "
the golem said as it hugged its wife, giving her a gentle squeeze just like Yusif used to always do. Andrea's scream ended in a dry rasp as all the air was forced out of her body. Her eyes widened with terror as she looked up into the metal face of the thing that was her husband. She felt her ribs snapping like kindling wood, and then there was nothing.
---

It had been a very long night indeed... Slightly after midnight, Blaymore had run across a pair of transient thieves on their way into Montfort. Not a particularly life-changing event in itself, but while he was following them, one of them mentioned a name that he shouldn't have known. A name very familiar to the speeding assassin. He had to know more. Blaymore followed them to a more secluded part of the city, of which there were many, and then confronted them.

While he stood invisible several yards away, Blaymore created a false image of himself... making it appear to the thieves that he rose from the ground before them as a cloud of blue smoke that coalesced into the figure of a man. The image was an exact duplicate of the real thing... the bright blue cloak was drawn close around his body. Black pants were stuffed into the top of his supple, leather boots. A short blue sash was wrapped around the lower half of his face, with the remainder of his head hidden in the large hood of his cloak. His eyes... the only portion of his body that was exposed... twinkled and gleamed, changing color every few seconds in order to hide their true hue. The false image reached into his cloak and pulled out a long curved sword... a scimitar. The sharp blade was midnight black on one side, and polished to a mirror-finish on the other. He held the weapon in his black-gloved hands and stood before the men like an angry wraith.

"Kultra." he said.

Being the cowards that they were, the pair of thieves spilled everything they knew instantly. In their last city, they had encountered someone calling himself 'Kultra the Magnificent,' a crude mercenary that disappeared rather mysteriously after taking a job to kill a local necromancer. They knew nothing more, but Blaymore aready had everything he needed... the name of the city, a distance, and a general direction.

It was a two-week trek on foot... which meant Blaymore could make it in about four hours. He had been born with what his mother called the 'speed of the gods.' The words made it seem like a blessing, but it was more of a curse than anyone who hadn't lived it could imagine. One year after birth, he had the body of a five year old. At that point, his metabolism stabilized until puberty hit... then everything changed for the worse. Although he didn't have to worry about the rapid aging any more, his accelerated movements and perceptions made it nearly impossible to interact with normal, un-hasted humans. Everyone seemed to move in slow motion, and to him, normal speech was a long, croaking warble while his own words were a high-pitch squeak to others. His regular movements were faster than the human eye could follow, and he had to stand perfectly still for what seemed like hours just to be seen. If it hadn't been for the training he received at the hands of the master-assassin Zayvair, Blaymore would have never been able to slow his mind and body enough to live among 'normal' men.

But still, there were times when speed had its advantages.... times like now.

Blaymore sped south out of Montfort, rested briefly...about six seconds... in Bephal, and then continued southeast. The landscape was a dark-gray blur all around him. His night-vision spell allowed him to see in the dark of night, which was fortunate, since a fall at this speed would certainly kill him. He zigzagged around a gamut of obstacles... trees, boulders, barns... town after town melted away beneath his supernaturally fast feet. Every few towns, Blaymore would stop and rest for a second or two. Then he was off, speeding towards his destination.

It was almost dawn when he arrived at Reshold... not his end destination, but one of the many micro pit-stops he made along the way. He skirted the main body of the town and kept to the treeline. To any of the townsfolk who happened to look outside, he would appear as a strange, blue streak in the night. Blaymore ducked into the woods and came to a halt in a small clearing.

I must be getting old, the assassin mused to himself, First, Zade says she can hear me despite my best stealth spells... and now...now I swear I'm almost getting tired...

Blaymore shook his head, took a deep breath, and prepared to set off once again.

Well, two more towns and I'm th- Hello? What's THIS?

Lying on the ground just beneath his left foot was what looked like a human arm. The resemblance was in outline only, for this particular object was made of metal, and was about five feet in length. Blaymore knelt down and ran his gloved hand over the arm's surface. He tried to lift it, but the weight was more than he could handle, so he studied it on the ground where it lay. Whoever the craftsman was had done a fair job of reproducing the musculature of the human arm, but at gigantic proportions. At the point where the limb would be attached to a shoulder, there was only jagged metal. As if the limb had been torn off.

No... not torn. Bitten.

Blaymore frowned. He stood and listened... to nothing. For the first time, he noticed that there was no sound in the air. No insects chirped. No owls hooted. No bats flew overhead. No rodents rustled through the foliage. Nothing.

Very curious. I think I'd better have a look around.

With a quickly mumbled spell, Blaymore vanished from sight. His invisible footsteps made soundless impressions in the grass as he crept out of the clearing and headed deeper into the forest. He pushed his way through the foliage, pausing after every few movements to listen for sounds of... anything. He had gone only a few yards when he almost walked straight into the owner of the severed arm.

The golem was nine feet tall, and constructed completely out of a thick metal which appeared to be steel. It was leaning its back against a battered tree, like an old man resting after an arduous task. Its hide bore deep furrows and scratches, and its face was one gaping hole ripped into its head. The golem's remaining arm matched the one Blaymore had found in the clearing, although it was missing three of its fingers.

The area nearby looked as if a battle had taken place. Trees were down... some broken like twigs, others felled by a blizzard of sharp, short cuts. The ground was a field of mud, all traces of grass had been pulverized.

Still invisible, Blaymore watched the golem quietly for several seconds. It didn't move. He released the invisibility spell and waited. No response.

Inert. he thought. Or blind perhaps.

He walked up to the golem and thumped on its bulging chest with his fist. He wasn't concerned with the danger... Golems were notoriously slow, but even if they were as fast as cheetahs, Blaymore could be miles away before the thing moved three inches.

No response.

It was dead... or whatever one called golems whose bodies could no longer contain the magical energy that animated them.

Oh well. The next question is... what happened to it? What could rip up an iron golem like that?

He squeezed past the immobile golem and stopped short. Just behind the golem was its attacker...

The thing was wolf-like, but twice as large as any normal lupine that Blaymore had seen. The first thing he noticed was the claws. Long... even for the animal's large size, and made of metal. The unmoving beast's fur was interwoven with what looked like strands of the same dull gray metal as the claws. The thing's elongated head was dented and twisted at a strange angle away from its body. Blaymore couldn't see the teeth, but he already knew what he would find... a mouth full of razor-sharp, solid metal fangs.

It was a razor-warg.

Blaymore's heartbeat quickened. He knew this beast well, although he had never been this close to one before. Even a dead one. But he had heard enough to recognize it... Metal bones, claws and teeth that were stronger than steel. Fur laced with wire. Resistant to all but the strongest magic. Always ravenous and nearly unstoppable. They lived in packs of six to eight, but separated into smaller groups of two or three to hunt. They tracked by vision as well as scent, and would follow prey until either they caught and consumed it, or until something more appetizing came along. Their prey was anything that moved, edible or not, and they would attack without regard to the size or strength of the enemy. With metal bones and teeth, it really didn't matter anyway.

What are Razor-wargs doing this close to a populated area? Everyone in that town is in terrible danger!

Blaymore was just about to dash off to the center of town when something burst out of the underbrush. The second and third beasts leapt at him from opposite sides. Blaymore ducked and vanished... reappearing several yards away with his scimitar drawn. He scowled at the wargs as they charged him.

There was no way he could fight them; his thin sword would shatter the first time he tried to strike. A few well-place daggers... would only make them mad.

Blaymore sheathed his sword, turned invisible, and ran. He lost sight of the wargs almost instantly; he knew that there was no way they could keep up with him. They could, however, follow his scent to the ends of Ifreann... or at least until more promising prey presented itself. He headed out of the forest and angled away from the town so as not to lead the beasts into the unsuspecting village.

I could set a trap for them, he thought as he ran. It would only take me seconds to dig a deep pit. Unfortunately, I don't have a shovel. I could get one from the town, but if they followed my scent there they might decide to say and chew on a few villagers.

A scream broke into Blaymore's thoughts. A woman. In a farmhouse behind him and slightly to the left.

No! Wait... I left them back at the forest, how could they get here so FAST?!!

Blaymore paused. The scream repeated, but was suddenly cut off. There was silence for a few seconds, and then a strange, metallic sound... like the roar of a large beast trapped in a metal drum.

This town is just TOO weird. Blaymore turned and headed back in the direction of the commotion. He arrived about two seconds later, just in time to see another golem burst out of the smashed doorway of the farmhouse. The golem's metal chest was covered with blood.

Blaymore released his invisibility spell and appeared in front of the thing as it emerged.

"Hold!" he shouted. "If you can speak, creature, I demand you tell me what's going on here!"

The golem made a low vibration that almost sounded like a rough voice. Then it let out a series of screeches that could barely pass for words...

"1 K.1.L.L.3.D. H.3.R...."

In the blink of an eye, Blaymore rushed inside, saw the crushed remains of a human female, and then returned to confront the metal automaton.

Blaymore drew his sword, already trying to figure a way to bring the towering metal beast down.


"H.3. D.1.D. S.0.M.3.T.H.1.N.G. T.0. M.3. 1.M. N.0.T.
H.U.M.A.N. A.N.Y.M.0.R.3.... P.L.3.A.S.E. H.3.L.P. M.3....
1. W.A.N.T. T.0. T.0. D.1.3.... P.L.3.A.S.3. K.1.L.L.
M.3."
"Are your words true? You were human once?"


"W.A.S. A. M.A.N. H.3. D.1.D. S.0.M.3.T.H.1.N.G.
T.0. M.3."
"Who? Who did something to you?"


"C.1.R.3.L.0.N."
"Cirelon," repeated Blaymore. It was an unfamiliar name. "The beasts... The razor-wargs. Did he summon those as well?"


"C.1.R.3.L.0.N. P.R.0.T.3.C.T.S. U.S. B.U.T. H.3.
1.S. 3.V.1.L. H.3. M.A.D.E. M.3. 1.N.T.0. T.H.1.S.
M.0.N.S.T.3.R. P.L.3.A.S.3. K.1.L.L. M.3. 1. D.0.N.T.
K.N.O.W. H.0.W. T.0. D.1.3."
"Where can I find this Cirelon?"


"H.1.S. C.A.S.T.L.3. 1.S. 1.N. T.H.3. F.0.R.3.S.T.
B.U.T. D.0. N.0.T. G.0. T.H.3.R.3. H.3. W.1.L.L. M.A.K.3.
Y.0.U. A. M.0.N.S.T.3.R. L.1.K.3. M.3."
"I will visit this Cirelon. I'll get him to change you back."


"N.0. I. K.1.L.L.3.D. H.3.R. 1. C.A.N.N.0.T. L.1.V.3.
K.1.L.L. M.3."
"You are ill.... Wait here for my return."


"N.0. 1. M.U.S.T. D.1.3."
The golem began to move forward. For an instant, Blaymore thought it was about to attack, but its steel gaze was focused *beyond* him to the edge of the farm. Blaymore jumped out of the way and turned to look. The two razor-wargs were rapidly approaching, following Blaymore's scent trail. Their clawed feet tore huge gashes in the soft earth as they ran. The golem marched directly toward them.

"WAIT!" Remembering the ruined golem in the woods, Blaymore zoom in front of the metal beast. "I cannot allow this! They follow my scent... I will lead them away!"

He knew his words were false. The wargs hunt by sight as well as scent... though the golem did not smell like prey, it was moving and seemed to be alive. For razor-wargs, that was all it took.

"STOP!" hollered Blaymore.


"A.V.3.N.G.3. M.3."
The wargs attacked. Blaymore went intangible at the last second, one beast leapt through him and landed squarely on the golem's chest. The other swooped in from the side, and together their steel teeth and claws began ripping out large chunks of metal. The golem stood motionless, not even bothering to defend itself. It wanted to die, and the wargs were the only thing that could grant it's desire.

Blaymore watched for a few agonizing seconds, and then turned away. In the blink of an eye he was gone, the breeze carrying the echo of his last word:

"...Cirelon..."

Far behind him, the grieving golem was being savagely reduced to a pile of torn and twisted metal.

----

The trees and foliage were like a solid green wall on either side of him. Blaymore had no idea where Cirelon's castle lay, but he knew it was in the forest somewhere. He conducted the most methodical search possible, traveling in an ever-widening spiral with the town at it's center. As he moved further and further away from the populated areas, he came across several more metal golems, and still more razor-wargs. All were dead... smashed and ripped apart. There were more wargs than would usually hunt in a single pack, indicating some kind of mass migration. There was no way that town could exist amid this many ravenous wargs... but the golems could be the key. The golem at the farm said that Cirelon protected them. The golems must keep the wargs at bay, with great casualties on both sides. If this were the case, if Cirelon's creations were keeping the town alive, could Blaymore afford to take this guy down? Maybe he should evacuate the town first... with his help it would only take a few hours to get the women and children to the next town. He considered it, and then thought that it was better to confront his Cirelon and find out exactly what was going on.

As he moved further away from the town, the vegetation became thicker and more impassable. Soon it was impossible to duck between and around the thick trees, and Blaymore was forced to go intangible in order continue the search. This slowed his progress tremendously, not to mention the drain on his very finite reserves of magic.

Suddenly the foliage thinned, and Blaymore found himself in a huge clearing . The structure at its center could hardly be called a 'castle,' but he supposed that, to the rural townsfolk, the squat fortress did somewhat resemble one. The entire building was made of metal, with a huge door in the front that was framed by two barred windows set high in the wall. One lone tower lanced upwards toward the night sky. At its pinnacle was a turret, which was no doubt occupied by guards on constant look out for razor-wargs.

Blaymore went invisible and approached the main door. It was marred with slash-marks. The deeper ones had actually penetrated the metal, but there were signs of recent repair. Blaymore cast a detect-magic spell. His eyes glowed briefly and he re-inspected the door.

Nothing.

There was no magic protecting the entrance. At least none that he could see. Without hesitation Blaymore became intangible and passed through the door.

He found himself in a large rectangular courtyard. Directly across from him was a huge staircase that led up to the tower. There were two doors, not counting the one he had come through. All were made of the same metal. One bore scratch marks similar to those on the main entrance. Recent repairs had been made to this one as well. All four walls had large notches about five feet deep and fifteen feet high, creating large floor length 'cubby-holes' or open-ended storage compartments. Most were empty, but some were occupied by motionless metal golems. Blaymore counted... there were forty-five compartments, but only seven golems were present.

Where are the rest? he thought as he stood, invisible, in the center of the room.

There was a loud *clang* and the door behind him opened. It did not swing inward or outward, but instead, the entire door rose up into a slot in the wall above it. Blaymore stepped aside as two golems entered. One was dragging the battered remains of the one-armed golem in the woods. The other carried the carcass of the razor-warg that had killed it. The door sank back down into place as soon as they had passed.

hmmm....

Their metal feet making a horrendous racket as they marched, and the golem-remains drew sparks as they were drug across the metal floor. The golems crossed the room and approached one of the other doors. The door retracted as they drew near and allowed them to pass. Soon they were gone, although Blaymore could still hear them as they traversed the interior hallways.

Must be taking the damaged one for repairs... and using the metal from the wargs to make more golems. I'd better follow them.

Blaymore went intangible and passed into the dim hallway. He released his invisibility spell for the moment. The chances of him settling this thing without some kind of battle were slim, and steadily getting smaller. He would have to remain visible in order to conserve his magic for whatever lay ahead.

Blaymore crept down the hall, following the noise of the golems. They came to a large, very wide stairway that led downward. The steps were huge, obviously proportioned to make it easier for the golems to travel up and down in the 'castle.'

The stairs ended at a wide hallway. Blaymore paused and listened. He heard the golems stop, and then the *clang* of another door opening. Going invisible once more, he zoomed ahead shot past the golems as they were entering some kind of huge rectangular storage room/laboratory. The remains of about twelve golems lay piled along the walls. At the far end was a table where a thirteenth golem was being repaired by a tall, thin man. The man's hair was black mixed with streaks of gray. Behind the table was yet another metal door. The man looked up as the golem's entered.

"What? Another? Place him against the wall and return upstairs."

The golems complied, placing the damaged golem on the floor and laying the dead warg on top of it. They turned and left, but Blaymore remained behind. The door closed.

Blaymore approached the man and watched as he toyed the golem on the table. He was using some strange tools to adjust the with the gears in the shoulder-joint.

With a wave of his gloved hand, Blaymore created a false image of himself at the opposite end of the table. As usual, the image appeared as a cloud of blue smoke that slowly coalesced into a replica of his own form, standing with his arms folded and a stern look in his flashing eyes.

"Cirelon." said the Blaymore-image.

Cirelon looked up and frowned.

"I certainly hope you didn't leave the door open on your way in," he said as he continued to make adjustments on the golem.

Blaymore was taken aback. There was no fear or surprise in Cirelon's voice. Blaymore took a second look around the room. Nothing moved, save for Cirelon. The golem-maker had put down his tools and stepped out from behind the table. He approached the image.

"Last time the door jammed, two of those metal-haired bastards got in an made a hell of a mess. Took six of my best golems to route the beasts, and WEEKS to repair the damage, so you understand if I'm a bit concerned."

"You've got more pressing problems than the wargs."

"Really?"

"Yes. Me, for one. I want to know what's going on."

"What ever do you mean?"

"I encountered a golem that said-"

"Golems do not speak." Cirelon's mouth twitched slightly and he looked away for a moment.

"This one did. It had murdered a woman... and said that YOU were responsible."

"I have killed no one... except a great many of those damnable wire-haired beasts. Just who ARE you, anyway?"

"Death." said the Blaymore-image.

"Yes... you do have a rather gothic look about you, don't you. But I was under the impression that death wore black... not that shocking shade of blue." Cirelon reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pair of spectacles. He settled them over his eyes and squinted at the image. "Still... a most remarkable illusion, I must say, even if the colors ARE all wrong."

uh-oh. thought Blaymore.

"So where are you REALLY?" Cirelon looked around the room, squinting through his spectacles. When his gaze passed the point where Blaymore was, he stopped. His lips curled up into a faint smile. "There you are."

Blaymore dispelled the false image and released the invisibility spell. He stood motionless before Cirelon, but out of the corners of his eyes he was scanning the periphery for movement.

"Ahh... I see the color was right after all. My apologies. Please allow me to introduce myself..." Cirelon bowed eloquently. "Cirelon... Master Creator, and soon to be immortal mage. And you would be...?"

"Death."

"Of course. Well if you intend to kill me you've come at the right time. In just a few hours it will be too late."

"Too late?"

"I'll be immortal, of course."

"That's what this is about? Immortality?"

"Quite right. My last experiment was a success... that simple-minded farmer was successfully transferred out of his own body into one of my creation."

"Against his will."

"No matter. Success is success, regardless of how many simpletons get hurt."

"Change him back. Put him back into his own body."

"No... can't do that. The bodies always die after the transference."

"Doesn't sound like such a success to me, then."

"Oh, but the results were almost perfect."

"Then why did he kill his wife? Why did he throw himself to the wargs?"

"Minor confusion caused by the transference. Yet even that is a positive... it took him several hours to realize that he was no longer in his own body. He hugged his wife thinking he was a man, yet he was inhabiting a body capable of crushing stone-"

"How do you know what happened?"

"I was watching, of course. I see what all my golems see...."

That explains why he wasn't surprised by my appearance. He's been expecting me... this is bad.

"So you're stealing townsfolk to run your experiments. And what about the wargs? Did you summon them here?"

"SUMMON!? No one in their right MIND would summon those things."

"Which does nothing to remove my suspiscions. What are they doing here if you didn't bring them?"

"A few packs decided to migrate in this direction for some infernal reason. Just about killed them all off now, just a couple of packs left... but I've had to divert much of my precious time and energy to the golems that protect that little mud-pit of a village. I even had to pull the wards that seal this fortress. Yes, since those beasts' arrival, my progress has been excruciatingly slow. Yet, the safety of the town is... or was... an necessity."

"Subjects for your experiments."

"Of course! I'm not going to allow a perfect pool of subjects be gobbled up by those things. It's bad enough that half of them LEFT when the wargs arrived... but that doesn't matter now. The experiment is almost over. I'll make a few adjustments and perform one final test. Then the process will be ready to transfer MY mind into the glorious body that I have created. I shall be immortal!"

"I'm not letting you harm another innocent villager."

"Oh, no. My use for the townsfolk is over... Why bother with them when I've got a most intriguing subject right here?"

Cirelon ran his fingers across the golem's chest, and the metal automaton sat up and slowly moved off of the table. Blaymore studied the creature as it stood beside it's master. This golem was smaller, with a more complex system of gears in the freshly-oiled joints. Its face was almost human, with glowing orbs for eyes instead of the cold, empty sockets that the other golems had.

"You like?" said Cirelon. "I hope so. This body will be your home for the next... oh... thousand years or so."

"You don't honestly expect that thing to capture me, do you?" Blaymore considered his options. The golem was far too slow to be a threat, but Cirelon might have some dangerous magic up his sleeve. He would have to die...

"Yes. Golem, Capture."

Blaymore drew his sword. The golem took a step towards him... and was suddenly standing one foot in front of him. A hammer-fist whipped through the air towards his head. Blaymore barely ducked in time, but the surprised assassin was too slow to avoid the second blow to his gut. Blaymore doubled over and rolled across the floor. He leapt to his feet and was knocked backwards as the golem's steel fist slammed into his chest.

"WHA!" Blaymore hit the floor. He could barely breathe, and the room was spinning. This thing was faster than he expected...

"Haste spells are nice, aren't they?" said Cirelon. "Not quite as fast as you, but then, with the element of surprise he doesn't need to be."

Dizzy, Blaymore attempted to rise. The golem zoomed all around... behind him... in front of him... beside him... Rock-hard blows rained down upon his chest and back...

"I would hate to deprive you of your precious speed after the transference. So as soon as I saw your capabilities, I began modifying this golem with the appropriate spells and special mechanical gears. Not bad for a rush job, don't you think?"

Blaymore fell to his knees. The golem's fist was like an iron mace, yet Blaymore knew that the metal creature was pulling its punches. He could have easily been killed with the very first punch. He fought to clear his mind so that he could bring his own speed into play, but the damage had already been done. He was dazed, and could barely see, let alone formulate a plan of attack.

"I was going to paint it blue for you, but you arrived sooner than expected. Oh well, you'll have all the time in the world for aesthetics later."

The next high-speed punch flung the already dazed assassin across the room. He slammed into the wall and collapsed. Blaymore's conscious mind reeled... and then was gone.
---

"You can wake up now."

Blaymore opened his eyes. He was sore... everywhere. He felt like one big bruise. He looked around and found that he was strapped to a flat, rectangular table. Leather bands looped around his arms, legs and chest, tying him securely to the metal.

A similar table sat a small distance away. Laying on it was the speeding golem that had captured him so easily. Cirelon, still wearing his spectacles, stood between the two, making some adjustments to the golem. On one side of him was a cart crammed with various tools and instruments. On the other, a large pear-shaped crystal sat on the floor. The tip of the gem reached to Cirelon's shoulder, and the entire thing pulsed slowly with a ominous light. Blaymore saw his scimitar leaning against the wall on the far side of the room.

"I wouldn't try to escape that table." said Cirelon without looking at Blaymore. "The straps are enchanted. Intangibility won't get you out of this one."

"What are you doing?"

"See this crystal?" Cirelon jerked his head toward the crystal on his left. "Gem of transference. It took me quite a while to find a pure earth-crystal of that size... and even longer to get the enchantments right. And all the while I had to keep those damned wargs away from my experimental subjects."

Blaymore mumbled his intangibility spell, but found that he was still held firmly. The enchanted straps and table would not let his ephemeral body pass through them. Frustrated, he released the spell.

"See," said Cirelon. "I told you." Cirelon finished with the golem and turned to the huge crystal. He grabbed a rag of his tool-cart and began wiping a smudge off of the gem's surface.

"Transference spells are quite common, you know." he said "It's just those annoying side-effects that have to be worked out. It just won't do to get safely transferred to an immortal body and then go insane, would it? Or one day wake up and find your self back in your old body, which is dead and rotting away in a grave somewhere for years."

"Golems aren't immortal." said Blaymore.

"No, but they're much more durable than the flesh we're born with. Plus the added benefit of strength and interchangeable parts. I can inhabit one for centuries, and when it finally wears out I'll just transfer myself over into a new one."

"Unless those wargs out there get you first."

"Doubtful... The golem body I've created for myself is much more powerful than the simple ones I have protecting the village. Stronger metal. Faster reflexes. And I would still have my superior intelligence.. I'd be virtually unstoppable..."

"Unstoppable. Immortal. You people are all the same. If it isn't love, it's power. If it isn't power, it's immortality. I've brought down so many people like you that your lunacy doesn't even surprise me anymore."

"Lunacy? You mean you wouldn't jump at the chance for immortality? Not that you have a choice here-"

"No. I've seen immortality and the chaos it brings. Madness is just the beginning."

"Not this time. Not with me."

Cirelon began touching the polished facets of he large crystal. He tapped them in a certain order, as if entering some kind of code. The crystal began to hum, and it's light pulsed faster and brighter.

"You're not going to get away with this" said Blaymore.

"Of course I am." Cirelon touched the final facet and then stepped away. "Don't worry... it won't hurt very much. The process is quick and relatively painless... you'll find yourself getting tired.... then sleepy... then you'll just drift off. When you awaken, you'll be in your new body. And if all goes well, Ill be in MY new body by the end of the night."

"I don't think so, Cirelon." Blaymore strained against his bonds.

"Oh come now... you don't have golem-strength just yet. Oh... and your new body will still respond to my commands, so don't get any ideas about attacking me when you awaken."

With the straps drawn tight against his limbs, Blaymore began moving his wrists back and forth rapidly. The leather rubbed against the coarse cloth of his robe...

"I can't allow this to go on," said Blaymore. "I'm going to stop you." Blaymore could feel himself getting tired.

"It's a bit late for that now. The connection between you and the golem has just been completed. The transference is beginning. We'll continue this conversation later..."

Blaymore felt himself getting sleepy, but he forced his wrists to keep up the hyper-speed motions. Everything below his elbows was just a blue blur. The straps were getting hot; they were resistant to magic, but not to heat. His wrist bracers and the fire-retarding cloth of his cloak kept most of the heat away from his skin, but thin wisps of smoke were beginning to rise from the straps.

Everything around him began to dim as his consciousness began to slip away. Blaymore fought the crystal as it slowly drained him. It was a race now... he had to free himself before it was too late.

"Hey!" shouted Cirelon from across the room. "What are you doing over there!"

The room swam; Blaymore felt himself growing weaker... but at the same time, a loud ripping sound came from the strap on his right arm. The smoking strap had given way... he was free! He quickly reached over and undid his other arm.

"Golem! Get him!" shouted Cirelon. "Stop Him!"

Blaymore was struggling to undo the remaining bonds. Though he was almost free, the crystal was still draining his mind. His fingers felt stiff and numb. He saw the golem across from him sit up and get to its feet.

Blaymore freed his chest and legs and then rolled off of the table. He landed on his feet more through luck than skill. He stumbled out of the way just as the golem's fists reduced the table to scrap metal.

"Watch out for the crystal!" howled Cirelon.

No problem there... thought Blaymore, who was trying to get as far as possible from the pulsing gem. His movements were sluggish, but he was still at least three times as flexible as the golem. He managed to veer to one side and avoid the golem that sped up behind him. He ducked the metal fist and ran for his scimitar. The golem appeared in front of him.

Not THIS time! Blaymore changed courses and avoided the grasping metal hands. His speed was returning as he got further away from the gem. A few more feet and this would be an even match.

Then what?

Blaymore knew he didn't have anything that could take down the golem… his scimitar, when he eventually retrieved it, would be useless. All he had were a few daggers and some non-offensive spells. Blaymore dodged again, and at the same time he reached into his pocket and retrieved one of his invisible daggers. Hopefully Cirelon's monsters would power-down without their master.

"Golem! Protect!" commanded Cirelon as the dagger sped towards his throat.

The dagger clanged off of the metal giant's chestplate as the golem zoomed in front of its master. Before the deflected knife hit the ground, Blaymore had retrieved his scimitar. The effects of the gem were almost gone…his speed had almost completely returned.

"NOW let's see who-"

The golem charged. Blaymore zoomed around the perimeter of the room, intending to reach Cirelon before the golem realized it's error. However, things didn't work out that way. After taking only a few steps, the golem quickly returned to its master and was there to greet Blaymore when he arrived. Blaymore struck, and his scimitar drew sparks against the creature's metal hide. The assassin tried to side-step the golem, but it anticipated his move and reached out to block that strike, as well as the four that followed. It was as if the golem knew exactly what Blaymore was going to do before he did it.

"What the-?"

"Golem! Kill him!"

Blaymore was already across the room, headed for the door. This troublesome golem would have to be dealt with before he could put an end to Cirelon's lunacy. Running at high speed, Blaymore went intangible and passed through the metal door and back into rectangular workshop. He stopped and turned, fully expecting the golem to smash itself to pieces as it tried to emulate Blaymore's move. What he did NOT expect, was the golem's ephemeral body to pass unharmed through the door exactly as he did.

Intangibility! Damn you, Cirelon!

The monster bore down on him, Blaymore turned and ran through the door at the opposite end if the room and into hallway. The golem followed, it's footfalls were like a blacksmith's hammer pummeling the metal floor… only at an incredible speed that was matched only by Blaymore's own. Sparks flew as the golem trailed the assassin through the hall and up the stairs.

Blaymore emerged into the enclosed courtyard, where fifteen golems were detaching themselves from their wall-units and beginning to lumber towards him. They were slow and easy to avoid, but the one following him quickly joined him in the large, open room and began chasing him toward the main door.

In a flash, Blaymore was outside. He instantly went invisible, in case someone or some thing was watching from the tower. Instead of continuing out into the woods, he turned and disappeared around the far corner of Cirelon's fortress a half-second before the pursuing golem emerged.

Halfway down the length of the wall, Blaymore paused and waited. There was no way the golem could know where he was… the metal beast would waste time searching for him in the woods while he crept back inside and dealt with Cirelon.

The golem, however, had other plans. Blaymore heard the noisome behemoth approaching him from the rear. Without stopping to look, the assassin took of at a 45-degree angle to the wall and headed out towards the underbrush, with the golem close behind.

How did it know where I was? How is it still following me?

Still invisible, Blaymore spun and prescribed a sharp arc, sending him back towards the fortress. He nearly ran headlong into the golem that had swerved to intercept him on his new path. Only his greater speed saved him from being pulverized. There was no way the golem could have made that maneuver unless... a) it was simply faster than Blaymore, which was not the case, or b) it had anticipated the move.

But golem's aren't that smart! Are they?

Blaymore repeated the trick, suddenly spinning and running off at an angle. The slower golem was once again waiting for him. Blaymore felt the thing's metal fists sink into the ground behind him as he narrowly avoided the beast.

By the gods!! he thought. It's reading my mind!

It was true. The golem had blocked his attacks against Cirelon. It knew where he was had been hiding… and it approached him from behind, so it even knew which direction he had been facing. Now it was anticipating his movements and cutting him off at every opportunity. Their minds were still connected from the attempted transference! Blaymore's every thought was echoed in the whatever passed for the golem's brain.

DAMN!

Though he was faster than the golem, there was no way Blaymore could outrun his own thoughts! There was no trap he could set for it or fancy maneuver he could use to trick it; because as soon as a plan formed in his mind, the golem would move to counteract it. He had to break the spell that bound them, but how? And would the golem let him?

Blaymore headed out into the forest. The thick underbrush surrounding the forest slowed him down, since he had to either dodge trees or go intangible and run through them. The golem simply plowed ahead, destroying everything in it's path and only losing a fraction of it's speed. Blaymore led the creature through the woods. As the trees began to thin again, Blaymore knew that he was approaching the town. Should he lead this thing into a populated area?

Blaymore veered toward the farmhouse where the previous golem had thrown itself to the wargs. He shot down the center of the property like a blue arrow. The metal-toothed beasts were still there, resting after making a meal of every animal on the farm. Several more wargs had joined them, making a pack of four. They all looked up as Blaymore sped past them and off into the distance. Irritated at the intrusion, the pack growled and joined in the pursuit, falling in behind the golem. They were so slow that their presence was a non-issue, but Blaymore knew that, however and wherever this chase ended, they would be eventually be there… following the trail to an easy meal.

And who would that be? He could easily double his speed and out-run the creature, but that would be useless. It would know where he was and eventually come for him. Even worse… golems didn't get tired, and it would keep after Blaymore until the assassin's muscles gave finally gave out. But if he got a large enough head start, he could double back and kill Cirelon before the golem could-

Dammit! Blaymore cursed himself for giving away his plan before he had a chance to implement it.

The golem already knew what he was planning. But wait… what will it do? What if I make our shared mind irrelevant by acting faster than the golem could react? Thoughts or no thoughts, I'm STILL faster than it is…

Still thinking of leading the golem away and then doubling back, Blaymore spun immediately and shot past the confused automaton. He poured on the speed, and was back at the fortress in less than two seconds. With the golem following, he headed straight for the main door. His thoughts were of Cirelon's neck and the blade by his side…

…Cirelon sees what they see…

Blaymore suppressed the remainder of that thought before it even finished forming. He scowled and forced the words from his head, knowing the mind-reading golem was right behind him traveling at its full speed.

Blaymore veered away from the fortress as the last possible instant… his mind was a complete blank.

Behind him, the golem tried to turn and cut him off, but was moving far to fast to complete the maneuver. Instead, it went intangible to avoid a damaging collision with the metal fortress door. Blaymore turned in a tight loop and fell in behind the golem as it smashed into the door… the door that was now enchanted to prevent entry. Cirelon knew of his approach and had replaced the wards around the outer doors and walls… Blaymore had been heading into a trap the whole time.

But now the tables were turned.

The magical barrier erected by Cirelon shattered under the thunderous impact of the speeding golem. A shockwave buckled and then completely destroyed the door. The golem took most of the remaining force, losing one arm and crushing the other beyond usefulness. It was still on its feet, struggling to maintain balance. Most of the joints were fused in place by the explosive passage though the barrier. It would no longer be a problem. More golems mulled about in the entry way. They reached out for him, but they were so slow that they may as well have been motionless statues. He ducked and avoided them, as he waited for the reinforcements to arrive.

The wargs stormed into the fortress like an invading army. There were even more than Blaymore expected… seven wire-haired devils leaped through the smashed entryway and immediately began attacking the golems. The haste-golem was the closest to the door, and it was the first to fall. Sparks flew as metal teeth met metal flesh. The wargs ripped it in half and then moved on to the others. The golems fought back, bashing and crushing with their iron fists. Two golems caught one warg between them and were in the process of trying to snap its metal neck when the warg's pack-mates fell upon them. More sparks shot across the floor as the golems vanished in a fury of fur and wire. One by one, more golems fell. Though they had the advantage of incredible strength and endurance, the wargs more than made up for that with their pure, unbridled savagery.

Meanwhile, Blaymore crouched in a corner. He didn't bother with invisibility, since the wargs could detect his scent regardless. For the moment, the beasts were busy with the golems, but they would finish with Cirelon's toys very shortly. It would be best if he wasn't around then… but then Cirelon himself still had to be dealt with.

Across the room, the inner door opened and more golems marched out into the courtyard. Blaymore shot past them and into the hallway. One of the golems turned to follow him, but it was knocked down and ripped apart by an attacking warg, who was in turn thrashed by the golem's 'brethren.' Blaymore didn't stay to see the rest.

He dashed down the dark hallway and back down the oddly-proportioned steps into the basement. He passed another pair of golems on their way to the slaughter, and finally came to Cirelon's lab. The huge door was just still being lowered after the departure of the golems… there was about a two-foot space between the floor and the bottom edge of the door. Blaymore leapt into a roll and skidded under the door, which clanged shut a second later.

"I SEE YOU MADE IT."

The voice was like thunder, causing painful echoes on the bare metal walls of the room. Blaymore look up and beheld the source of the voice… a twelve foot iron and steel golem. Cirelon's masterpiece was a marvel of metalwork that was both intricate and immensely powerful. The thing looked more like an animated suit of armor than a golem. Metal plates covered and protected the gears in the joints. Bulging metal arms hung down at its sides, both ending in fists the size of large anvils. Each finger was tipped with a single retractable claw, and the right arm was fitted with contraption that looked like a giant crossbow. A collection of sharp metal spears stuck out of a quiver attached to the golem's back. The face was remarkably human, except for the two glowing, red eyes. It looked nothing like Cirelon's aged visage, although Blaymore had absolutely no doubt whose soul inhabited the towering juggernaut.

"You did it, didn't you." said Blaymore.

"OF COURSE. YOU LEFT ME LITTLE CHOICE. THE PROCEDURE WAS A SUCCESS."

"Too bad you won't be enjoying your immortality very long, Cirelon."

"JEALOUS? YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE TO JOIN ME, LITTLE MAN, BUT YOU RAN."

"The wargs are chewing through your golems right now, Cirelon. Soon they'll be scratching at this door behind me."

"WELL BY ALL MEANS, LETS LET THEM IN."

The Cirelon-golem stepped up to the door. Its motions were fluid and balanced, evincing none of the clumsy stiffness of a regular golem. He drew back its fist and punched completely through the thick steel door. The sound knocked Blaymore to the ground, almost deafening him.

Cirelon stuffed his fists into the hole he'd just made and literally ripped the door in half like a man would tear a piece of paper.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND, NOW?" said Cirelon. "THE STRENGTH. THE POWER. AND I WILL LIVE IN THIS BODY FOREVER!"

"We'll see…" The wargs were coming. Blaymore could hear the screeching of their claws against the metal floor as they came. Cirelon stepped back and drew out one of the long spears from his quiver. He fitted it into the 'crossbow' on his right arm and aimed it at the doorway.

The first warg appeared. Though any other creature would run at the first sight of the Cirelon-golem, the maniacal warg attacked without hesitation. As soon it was airborne, Cirelon released the spear directly into the thing's chest. Impaled through the center of its body, the razor-warg flipped end-over end, hit the floor and slid back out into the hallway, trailing a smear of red blood across the floor. It lay still for a moment, then began to twitch and jerk sideways, trying to grasp the protruding spear between its jaws and yank it free. Meanwhile, three more beasts rounded the corner and barged into the room.

Not having the time to ready another spear, Cirelon popped his 12-inch finger-claws…

*shhh-Cli-CLACK!*

He swatted the first leaping warg out of the air like a bumble-bee. Cirelon's claws sliced through the wire and matted fur, but glanced harmlessly off of the creature's metal ribs. Still, the force of the blow sent the creature flying into the wall. The second and third wargs slammed into Cirelon's chest simultaneously in an effort to bring the large prey down. Their claws left marks on his formidable chest-plate, but Cirelon stood strong. He grasped one snarling beast by the neck an flung it away. He forced the third onto the floor and placed his foot on its neck.

"YOU SEE!" Cirelon yelled triumphantly as the warg squirmed and snapped at his foot. "THEY ARE NO MATCH FOR-"

Cirelon lurched forward as the first warg attached itself to his back. It sank its claws into his shoulder-plates and tried to take Cirelon's entire neck into its muscular jaws. The second beast soon joined the attack, as did the third, which was freed by the other two. With one warg on his back, and one swinging off of each arm, Cirelon fell to his knees.

The huge golem swung his right arm and slammed the warg hard onto the floor. The beast loosened it's grip, allowing Cirelon to yank his arm free. He grabbed the beast by the snout and slung it away. He immediately began pummeling the second warg with a series of blows that reverberated through the room. The beast yelped as its flesh was being smashed against its metal bones…

Meanwhile, Blaymore watched silently from behind a pile of broken golem-parts. The battle was fierce, but is looked as if Cirelon might indeed triumph. His golem body was taking tremendous amounts of punishment from the warg's claws and fangs, and surviving with just deep scratches. The beasts, however, weren't backing off.

Perhaps I should even the odds a little. thought Blaymore. Direct intervention was out of the question… his assassin's skills weren't meant for wargs or golems. But if he could swing the odds away from that murdering bastard…

In the blink of an eye, Blaymore was out of the room and up the stairs. In the courtyard he saw the remains of Cirelon's golem army scattered across the floor like wind-blown debris. Arms and legs. Heads. Hands. The razor-wargs had literally chewed them up and spat them out. Three warg carcasses were also present… two of them twitched occasionally, still fighting for life. Blaymore paused just outside the fortress, and then rushed off. Once again, he assumed a tight spiral search pattern, this time centered on Cirelon's 'castle.'

The trees were green and brown blurs as he swept in wide arcs further and further away from the fortress.

Two miles out, he found what he was looking for.

The wargs, a pack of six, were resting in a small clearing. Blaymore paused in the center of the group for about three seconds... that was all it took. All six beasts were up and snarling, hungering for the feeling flesh between their razor-sharp teeth. Blaymore took off... continuing his search. He ran slower now, so he could keep track of the wargs behind him. They were following like he knew they would. He swept out another five, then ten miles without finding anything. Then he made an abrupt turn and headed in a straight line back to Cirelon.

A blue blur in the mid-morning sun, Blaymore sped back through the thick underbrush, into the corpse-laden courtyard, and down into the familiar dark hallway.

He had been gone less than ten minutes; Cirelon was still under siege. Of the three wargs that were actively involved in the attack when Blaymore left, only two were still alive. One, the largest one, appeared unharmed, while the other's leg had been twisted out of place. They both circled around Cirelon , snapping at his extremities while the golem tried to keep them away with one of his spears. Cirelon's golem body was covered in scratches. Though most of the damage was merely aesthetic, his chest plate was ripped open; the long, jagged hole revealed a complex network of metal thick rods and support beams beneath the surface. His crossbow-mechanism was smashed and useless, and is left hand was crunched as if in a giant vice... impairing its usefulness as well. One of his fierce, glowing eyes was missing, along with a large swath of steel plate from his face.

The remaining eye fixed on Blaymore as he entered the room.

"Not faring so well, eh Cirelon?"

One of the wargs, the wounded one, turned toward the blue-cloaked intruder. Cirelon struck, driving his spear straight down through the beast's back, impaling it. The remaining warg leapt and grabbed Cirelon's arm in its powerful jaws. Cirelon twisted and started slamming his fist into the beast's face.

Sorry, Cirelon... thought Blaymore, I can't let you win this one The other wargs were on the way, but it would take just a little longer for them to get here. It was up to Blaymore to keep the Cirelon-golem busy until then... and to make sure the battle ended the way he wanted it to.

Blaymore sped up to the wounded warg and grabbed the spear protruding from it's back. The beast snapped and slashed at him, but a few quick jerks freed the spear... as well a most of the warg's innards. Blaymore took the spear and began scraping it against the metal floor at high speed. His arms moved faster and faster. Sparks began to jump from the point. He continued until the tip glowed red hot, then added a few hundred extra strokes just to be sure. When he began to feel the heat through his gloves, Blaymore approached Cirelon, who was still wrestling with the remaining warg. Moving too fast to be seen, he squared off and shoved the spear up through the hole in the golem's chest plate. He had no idea what mechanisms Cirelon had built into the interior of his golem body, but the addition of a red-hot spear certainly wouldn't help them work any better.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!" Cirelon's remaining eye pulsed and then dimmed. "WHAT- WHAT- WHAT-..."

Then the wargs arrived.

Blaymore leapt out of the way as the six wargs he had gathered from outside burst into the room and attacked the wounded Cirelon. He saw the golem go down and disappear under a blanket of metal-laced fur and gnashing razor-sharp teeth.

Every few seconds a warg would be flung backward by a powerful arm, but its snapping jaws would instantly be replaced by two or three others. Cirelon tried to rise several times before he finally broke free. His metal hide was missing large sections now. Blaymore could clearly see the intricate gears and clockwork mechanisms that the metal protected. Cirelon had removed the spear from his own exposed chest, and now he swung it back and forth like an ineffective club...

"You Bastard!" he howled at Blaymore. His voice lacked the force that it had just a few seconds ago. "I'm going to get you!"

"I doubt that." said Blaymore.

Cirelon managed to spear one warg and stomp the neck of another before the remaining five brought him down again. The snarling beasts began ripping and tearing at his body. Again, Cirelon fought them off and rose, but the cycle just repeated itself. There were too many sets of jaws snapping at him... to many enemies... if he concentrated on one long enough kill or disable it, the others would rush in and begin ripping at his anatomy. As Cirelon disappeared from sight for the fourth or fifth time, Blaymore nodded and smiled.

"Another job well done." he said, and then vanished in a flash of blue light.

---

It was late afternoon, and after helping the nearby villagers with a high-speed evacuation, Blaymore returned to Cirelon's fortress. Golem and razor-warg bodies still lay strewn about in the courtyard. The same was true for Cirelon's workshop.

The final battle must have gone on for longer than Blaymore anticipated. Hunks of metal and wire-laced fur were everywhere, and there wasn't one square foot of floor or wall that didn't bear huge dents or deep, jagged scratch marks. Overall, there were nine warg carcasses in the room. One had gotten away.

As for Cirelon himself... there was no sign of him or his remains. There were so many piles of dented, scratched metal in the room that Blaymore couldn't tell which had belonged to Cirelon and which were just scrap metal he kept in his laboratory. They all looked the same. He kicked over a few of the lighter pieces and turned up what looked like metal hand with claws broken off at the tip of each finger. Further searching uncovered a few large gears of a more delicate construction than those in the 'regular' golems.

The wargs were all twisted and broken, recognizable only by the wire-lace fur that still covered most of the bodies. Their metal bones, strong as they were, could not stand up against Cirelon's superior craftsmanship. Fortunately, there had been enough of them to do the job.

Blaymore looked around for a few more moments, and slowly uncovered enough Cirelon-specific debris to satisfy him that the golem lord was no more. He was about to leave when he took notice of something...

The very first warg... the one that Cirelon had nailed with his crossbow... was missing. It had still been alive when Blaymore saw it last, although it had been impaled through the chest with a spear. It certainly could not have lived long, yet now it was nowhere to be seen. Of all the wargs in the room, It would have been the least damaged corpse.

Suspicious, Blaymore passed through the metal door and into the room where Cirelon had attempted to transfer him into the 'Blaymore-golem.' The room was as exactly as he remembered it, except for three vital things...

The first was the spear leaning against the far wall... the tip and half the shaft were coated in fresh blood.

Second... the transference crystal was gone.

And third was the pile of scrap metal... the very last identifiable remains of Cirelon's golem body... strewn across a horizontal table in the center of the room.

The End...?