IV-1 Grievance (II)

Most Legends don't live long enough to experience the fullness provided by their newfound power and skill. This is because the Post-Legend M

Most Legends don't live long enough to experience the fullness provided by their newfound power and skill. This is because the Post-Legend Mortality Phase, effectively the most dangerous period for one to become a Legend, is the point immediately after you achieve a Legendary-Tier Skill.

This is due to a number of reasons. The first is internal. Most people start thinking of themselves as invincible once they become Legends. Becoming a Legend, however, often negatively affects their cognition and behavior, prompting you to be more reckless or more careless. And careless is the last thing one can be upon becoming a Legend.

Secondarily is the danger posed by the outside worlds. There are rival Legends, rival heroes, and the moment after is the last good window they will have to make you easy prey. A Legend of physicality will be beyond most warrior-category Pathbearers to contend with, and so they will have to muster everything they have to slay you before you fully understand the depths of your new power. The same can be applied to mages or even scholarly Pathbearers.

Upon reaching Legend, most people are no longer threats compared to you, at least not alone. Your adversaries will become the divine, will become the grand disasters, skills that shake entire regions or even your world, and more often than not, rival Legends.

And that is the last reason why most Legends die immediately after they acquire a Legendary tier skill, because a Legend usually despises suffering another Legend. For Legends, more than any other Pathbearer have the opportunity to enjoy the fruits of extended longevity, but only if they stand alone at the apex of their culture or their environment. For one mountain can only inhabit one tiger.

Because the plural of Legend is war.

-The Falsehood of Immortality by Valor Thann

IV-1

Grievance (II)

"Back away from him, now!"

The words escaped Roland as a growl, and he didn't even know that he said them until a second thereafter. Flaring embers danced around his hand, and the outline of a longbow appeared. However, Valor disregarded him altogether, and the Starhawk turned, uttering a single word.

"Stop."

Roland's body stiffened. The Starhawk's voice was somewhere between a command and a plea, and the town lord stood down, but kept his gaze locked on Valor Thann. The lich, for that matter, remained utterly focused on the subject of his loathing, the Starhawk himself.

"I understand the reasons behind your ire, Legend Valor, but right now…"

"But right now, is the only chance I might get to understand what you have done, to understand what you have taken from the Great One," Valor Thann’s interruption was cold and immediate, and the Starhawk just sighed, sounding too exhausted for someone so powerful.

"It matters not that we are caged within this dimension or in grave danger." Before anything can be decided by anyone, Valor briefly looked at Uva, and especially the colors seeping out from her eyes. "I need to know what your relationship with the Great One is. How you and the other Ascendants became divine. I am a shattered remnant of myself, Matthew, but I still remember certain things, and being in your presence has brought other memories back to me, few of them pleasant."

A brief silence settled between them, and the tension in the room rose. Just then, the dimensionality outside quivered. It was like something was trying to tear through the static manner lining the space around them.

"As much as I appreciate the drama," Helix began. "It's best that we deal with this as soon as possible. I would be very upset. I will be very upset if I die at the hands of the Tarrasque just as the Starhawk is about to admit his great wrongdoing."

The Ascendant hesitated. He shot Roland a brief glance, and then began to speak. "It is true, I did transgress. I and my fellow exiles… before we were Ascendants, we were rebels. Rebels from separate communities, smaller kingdoms, and meager villages. We stood against the encroachment of the dust lord and his empire, and we were beaten. We were exiled."

"But why?" Uva asked. Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why not simply have you executed or enslaved?"

"That was not the Dust Lord's way at the time, for in those years the abyss was a great mystery to the surface, and expeditions descended constantly, seeking valuables and more. My fellow exiles and I were all considerable Pathbearers, champions of our community. The Dust Lord had sustained great losses, defeating us, and as he did not wish to suffer an extended insurrection, we were granted our lives, but the penalty for that was exile, an exile into the abyss no less. This way we would technically survive, as there were caravans descending and ascending the Abyss. And through this method, we could still serve the Dust Lord's interest by destabilizing the under kingdoms.

“It was also a form of retaliation, as the Five Faiths would often raid the surface at night."

Just then a gap opened up in the Dimensionality beyond and a deafening roar shook the world. It started as a low growl and finally died down as a screech, and something about that voice reminded Roland of the Omenborn somehow. Judging from the look on his son's face, Adam was thinking the very same thing.

"Yeah, you might want to speed this up," Georges commented, looking nervous. "And we might want to figure out our own way out of here as soon as possible right after. I'm sure as shit not looking forward to finding out what that thing's diet is."

"Anything it can fit in its mouth," Mortar commented.

"We spent many years in the Abyss," the Starhawk continued. "We established new lives there, took on new roles as mercenaries, as warriors, as artisans, and as scholars, serving the Five Faiths as they warred against one another. But we all shared a common dream, to return to the surface, to liberate our homes, and to bring down the Dust Lord. We tried striking pacts with our benefactors in the depths, tried creating allies, gathering forces of our own, but the Light Curse was our greatest impediment then. Even if we managed to build an army of our own, we couldn't raid the surface. Not easily. Not like the surface could descend and assault the Abyss with impunity."

"Wait, the Light-Curse existed then?" Adam asked.

"Yes," the Starhawk said, "it existed long before my forefathers could even recall. As to who placed the Curse on the Abyssal and why, that remains a mystery to me as well. I suspect it has something to do with the Great One."

"And the Great One," Valor said, bringing the topic back on point. "What did you do with the Great One? How did you become an Ascendant?"

"We joined the Descenders," the Starhawk said, "all of us. We partook in their expeditions. We did so to reach the very depths of the Abyss, for we heard Legend that there were places of immense power there. Places we could go that would allow us to advance our skills beyond the limits of the time." Starhawk paused then, considering his words. "There is too much to explain with regards to what truly happened. But the simple truth is that we were all reborn, but not as ourselves."

"And what does that mean?" Helix asked. Seemingly genuinely curious now.

"The Great One lays dreaming. The Great One lays dead." The Starhawk drew in a shuddering influx of mana and flickered in and out of existence. "But the Great One dreams. That, above all else, is true. And so, we made the Great One dream that it was us."

"What?" Adam breathed. "You made the Great One think it was you?”

“Perhaps in a crude sense," the Starhawk explained. "We made the Great One think that we were its true form. That it was all of us at the same time. And because it dreamed of us so, we were reborn in its body. It birthed us, it fused us as if skills locked within its soul. But we are not skills, we are path bearers ourselves. And so, to depart the cage that we found ourselves in, we created something. Something that we learned from you, Valor. You and your fellow Necrotechs.”

"Phylacteries," the lich said. "The ritual of the dichotomous soul. That is why you have created sacred phylacteries to part the Great One's power."

"More than that," the Starhawk said. "The phylacteries are meant to be our personal anchors. For initially, the Great One remembered itself as all of us at the same time. Twenty individuals, and we began to bleed into one another. Madness threatened to overtake us. And we needed something to keep our stories our own. Since we were fused in the flesh of a god beyond gods."

"So that's why you've been gathering other sacred relics. Other sacred phylacteries," Uva commented. "The Forgotten Ascendants are not dead. They cannot be dead. The Great One remembers them, albeit in a confused fashion. If you return the phylacteries, perhaps they could be fully remembered and thus resurrected once more."

"That is my theory. Yes," the Starhawk finished.

"Your theory," Whisper replied, cocking his head. "You are not as sure, great god."

"I am ultimately uncertain," the Starhawk admitted. "A great many things leave me uncertain, but it is the most likely outcome, judging by the nature of our creation."

"You damned fools," Valor seethed. He drifted closer to the Starhawk, and Roland took a step toward Valor. Adam froze, unsure how to respond, but Uva didn't. She directed one of her strands in front of Roland.

"Wait, give them time. This must happen. This must be settled."

The Town-Lord regarded the Psychomancer's mana and met her eyes. She looked as resolute as he was, and the nervousness on Adam's face reached new heights. Slowly, Roland offered the umbral the slightest of nods, and she returned it. A soft breath left Adam, and he calmed somewhat.

"Have you any idea what you have done, what you risk?" Valor pointed his right hand at the Starhawk, and the crystalline limb glistened briefly with necromancy. "The Great One lay dead, and spent ages slumbering, dreaming calmly, until you managed to defile its dreams. You have interrupted and reshaped the mind of a sleeping god. And for what? Your own selfish gain, your own selfish power."

"We did it to retake a home, and to overthrow a tyrant and protect what is ours."

"And now you have a Republic and an empire, and your protection has become expansion." Valor let out a snort of disgust. "And you struck at the very people who let you into their homes and offered you hospitality. How often this turns out to be the case."

"And we have lost our way. Of that, I do admit," the Starhawk said, not defending himself or his companions. "And I have never declared my innocence. Everything I do now, I do to set things right. For that which you fear is becoming true."

Valor drifted back slightly. "You… you mean…

“The Great One is beginning to notice the incongruities in its dream. I know this. I can feel this. The other Ascendants can feel this as well. Our presences were easy to hide early on. Our deception was a small one, considering the sheer amount of Legends the Great One has amassed. But as we siphoned its power, as we used its being as a broader receptacle for our own, our own legends have bled over into its own narrative.”

The Starhawk looked down in shame. "And so madness. Madness is swelling through the Great One. Madness is consuming it from the inside, from the depths of its soul, and from the remnants of its mind. And I must make this right. I must return to the depths and bring back my fallen, forgotten exiles. And thereafter we must subdue the other descendants and properly return what we have taken. For we soon may reach a point where the Great One sleeps no more, dreams no more, and decides it wishes to be dead no more."

And as if to add weight to the Starhawk's statement, something smashed against the dimensionality again. Once more, the Tarrasque's primal bellows shook the ruined town of Blackedge.

"So you were not intending to make your champion, Roland Arrow, a god?" Uva commented with a frown on her face.

Roland did a double take at that. "What? Why would you think that?"

"Because that is what Master Inquisitor Sijik stated as his assumed truth. When I interrogated him," she answered.

Roland's surprise was doubled. "You captured Master Inquisitor Sijik? When? How?"

"The Inquisitors decided to take a little detour toward the gate currently occupied by your boy," Tequila said, his grin growing. "Tragically, instead of facing a mob of incompetent Vultags, they were assailed along the way by a small army of…" The orc couldn't help but giggle, "gray-skinned Necrotechs."

Roland's mouth opened slightly. Adam let out a brief sigh. "A lot has happened, Father. I'll explain everything later, if there is a later."

"The other Ascendants, do they know?" Valor asked.

"They know as well," the Starhawk confirmed. Then his body shook. "They know, and they decided that they wished to keep their power, by any and all means."

"And what does that entail?" Valor pressed.

"The Ascendants seek to perform a ritual, a ritual that will cost a good percentage of the Republic's citizenry."

"They can’t possibly—" Adam gasped. "What do you mean by cost? Do you mean the ascendants can't… they can't possibly be thinking about sacrificing the people, can they?"

"That is not how the Ascendants might phrase it," the Starhawk said, though it was clear that he disagreed. "They view it as an offering, an investiture of sorts. Many in the Republic have skills relating to faith. It allows the ascendants to reach through them, to channel our so-called divine power through their beings. But it also lets them serve as a reinforcing mechanism for our powers. For years, we have been trying to understand how to advance the creation of phylacteries on our own, to create a grand ritual of the dichotomous soul, of a shared soul. 

“My intention was something of communal divinity. No more Ascendants. Or rather, everyone can be an ascendant unto themselves. That they could tap into the divine wellspring of power we all share. Power of the people to the people. A unified skill that they could draw upon. But the other ascendants were not interested in such a thing. They wished to make their faithful phylacteries. Phylacteries to reinforce them. Sacred phylacteries that they could devote to the Great One. To further cement themselves as an unchangeable truth."

"Unchangeable truth?" Valor sounded livid. "You are trying to usurp the very mind and being of a fallen god. One we do not understand. One that has provided the Abyss with everything."

"I know," the Starhawk said, his voice filled with mourning. "And it is worse than you can think, Legend. For my fellow exiles are turning on each other because of this very fact. Because though we are all ascendants, all ascendants are not equals. We all have different amounts of faithful connected to us. And right now it is most likely that Kathereine the Songbringer will be the priority personality that takes hold of the Great One. In function, this will make her the First Ascendant. First among Ascendants, first above all other Ascendants."

"Broken Moon," Adam whispered. His gaze swayed from face to face until he found his eyes locked with his father. And in that moment, both Arrows shared a look of sour misery.

"It's true," Roland said. "It's part of the reason why you were born at Blackedge. Why I've been here for so many years." And Roland clenched his jaw before he admitted the following fact. "It is the reason why I descended into the Abyss. Why I disobeyed a direct command from the Republic, from the other ascendants. It's why I escalated the war and sacked Submission."

"I don't… I don't understand," Adam muttered. "You… the Sullain was not lying?"

"No," Roland said softly. "He wasn't."

"I didn't intend for…" The Town-Lord stopped himself and closed his eyes. "It didn't matter what I intended. A city was burned. Countless innocents were slain. All so that I could recover a few sacred phylacteries stored there in the vicar's vault."

Adam looked ill. He turned away from his father, and that ripped Roland's heart wide open.

"Wow, this was quite the story," Helix said, sounding pleased that he managed to hear the entire accounting. "The Challenger applauds the audacity of your comrades, and he commends you for your willingness to stand against them. It must wound your soul so.”

"I care not what the orc god praises," the Starhawk said. "I care only to make things right. To make what I should have made right years ago." But he held out a hand, gesturing pleadingly at Valor. "They were my family. To stand against them takes more from me than I can offer. Many days, most days."

And for the first time, the lich's posture softened. He looked away from the Starhawk and nodded in understanding. "It is a weakness that you are not alone. It is a weakness that I understand as well. But still, but still, it changes nothing."

The Starhawk agreed. "The past is set in stone. The Legend has been written yet. Only the future awaits. And it is only in the future that I can make things right. So with this spoken, with these truths revealed, what say you, Valor Thann? Are you satisfied?"

"Satisfied? No, I will not be satisfied. Not after all I've learned. But I will aid you, Starhawk. I will aid you regardless of the wrongs you have performed. For you alone seem to be the only one trying to do something right."

A loud cry of metallic pain flooded Blackedge. Rusty was screaming once more. Screaming as the dimensionality surrounding Blackedge began to tear. Everyone rushed to the edge of the chamber. And as they stared beyond the broken glass, they saw a colossal figure trying to push its way in. 

The Tarrasque had returned. A sea of fire spilled through the tear. And the titanic beast reached in with a hand. A hand clutching a blade. A blade that hewed the fraying Dimensionality deeper, rending mana itself like it was solid flesh. The Tarrasque was wrapped in a membrane of magic. And it boiled against the Dimensionality. Spells crashed against its body through the gap it was pushing through, and they ricocheted off at odd angles.

"Well," Mortar clapped his hands together. "With that fun story told, who wants to tell us the tale of how we're going to get out of here alive? Why not? I will be honest, I wouldn't be overly bothered if the Tarrasque ate us. I'd still come back. Be an interesting way to die. But the rest of you might not like it so much.”

Uva's left eye twitched. "Starhawk," she said. "Can you contain the influences of the Outside within you?"

"No," Roland cried, but the Starhawk held out a hand. "Lord Starhawk!" The Town-Loord tried to continue, but the Starhawk spoke to Uva instead.

"I potentially could. I am uncertain, however. The Dreamtaker their nature is aberrant."

"That is but a declaration of locked perspective," the Dreamtaker whispered from Uva's eyes.

"Then I wish to enter a contract with you," Uva said. "I wish for you to forge a bargain with me right now. I offer my Dreamtaker's Gaze skill as collateral. If you allow me to serve as a bridge. If you allow me to be the conduit for both your power and the outside. So that we may all survive."

Silence washed over the room. Adam's eyes grew wider and wider.

"If the Outsiders attempt to do anything, anything at all," Uva said, a hint of desperation entering her voice. "You can shatter the skill, and it should be enough to choke their influence."

"It will be," the Dreamtaker confirmed, without any hint of deception. "It is good bargain-deal. Consider and take her word. The Seeker is trying to keep your fear-doubt-paranoia fulfilled. Calmed, Starhawk."

The shadowy visage of a god regarded Uva for a long moment and strode before her. "You ask me to risk much, Sister Uva of Weave."

"And you are not alone when it comes to risk," Uva replied sharply. "I dare say you have more. You have a higher likelihood of containing the Outside's influence than I do, recovering from a broken skill. And the Dreamtaker does not wish to be caged, do you?"

"No," the Dreamtaker said, its voice climbing, their voice spiking higher by a few octaves.

And outside, the Tarrasque tumbled through, yet it didn't head for Blackedge immediately. Rather, it was struck across the body. And there, in the distance, an obsidian armored dragon, bearing what seemed to be a reddish gold pillar, struck the Tarrasque again and again, battering it across the pocket dimension.

"Rusty! Rusty!" Rose cried out, her lips bared back in a snarl. "Listen to me, you fucking sword! Let us out! Let us out! The damn Tarrasque is inside! Let us the fuck out!"

But Rusty could only groan in misery. And ultimately offered her no reply.

"Well," Georges let out a breath as he lit a cigarette. "Think all that's been said. I think all that needs to be said has been said. Starhawk. Ascendant. God." He coughed awkwardly as he regarded the divine entity. "Maybe just do what the lass says, yeah? She's already placing her head on the chopping board next to you. Takes more than courage to do that."

Just then, a flash of light washed over everyone. Roland winced as the brightness speared into his eyes and made him flinch away. A second thereafter, there came a deafening blast. As the brightness faded, Roland watched as two forms accelerated toward Blackedge. The first was a dragon, and it smashed through a series of buildings, tumbling tail overhead until it finally impacted the base of Starhawk's Perch. The entire structure shook. The shape of the Starhawk briefly vanished before returning.

And just then, there came another projectile. It was much smaller than the dragon, but it was heading right for them. It tore through the air like a missile, and it was Adam who reacted, and Whisper who aided him a moment after.

"Shit, Shiv!" Adam cried out. He formed over a dozen of hydrokinetic arms, and they extended out from his spine in rivers of magical water. He also waved a wand, and it formed a barrier of hydrokinetic mana along the outside of their room. The projectile, now recognized as the Omenborn, came tumbling against that barrier of water, though he was slowed considerably. Finally, as he burst out the other side, tearing through the walls. He struck Adam, but the Young Lord caught him, held him back from flying across the entire chamber with his flaring vector-wings. Whisper braced Adam from behind, and the Young Lord offered the orc the quickest of nods, before they both took Shiv by his arms, looking him over.

A pained wheeze sounded from the Omenborn. His face was a bloodied mess. Part of his skull was caved in, and his left eye was dislodged, hanging by the optical cord.

"Composer! Shiv!" The Umbral was by his side in an instant as well. A mana strand sank into his mind, but she cupped his face and surveyed the damage. Roland caught the flash of pain playing across her features. She suppressed it quickly, but he recognized it for what it was. He'd seen it on Rose's face many times when she had to patch him up in the middle of battle. 

Suddenly, the Town-Lord's instincts were doubly unsure about the girl. Something wanted him to shoot her and shoot the Omenborn just in case. There was too much at risk, but he hadn't the power, and the bulk of his mind was gripped by uncertainty.

They laid the Omenborn down on the ground, and it struck Roland then just how bloody large Harlan's boy had gotten. Harlan stood two meters tall and could fill up a doorway. He looked like a wall of muscle beside Roland. 

Shiv, meanwhile, made his father look like a middleweight in terms of height and build. The damned boy was built more like a small orc than a man by this point.

A loud sigh sounded from beside the town lord, and the orc biomancer that saved him earlier walked over toward the Deathless, forming a crimson helix between his hands. "Your armor's destroyed, I see," the orc said conversationally.

"Fuck the armor," Shiv croaked. "I'm destroyed." He coughed and made a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, as he grinned at everyone through bloodied, broken teeth. “I came to save you guys, by the way.”

***

20 minutes ago…

Where the Inquisition, orcs, and dragon-knights were fighting each other the last time Shiv saw them, they sure as shit weren't doing it now. At present, everyone was focused on the Tarrasque, and even then, it wasn't enough. Spells bombarded the massive beast from all sides. Projectiles painted paths through the air, crashing against the Tarrasque so hard that shockwaves burst off of its body, bouncing off hard enough to cleave gaps in distant clouds. 

But even so, the Tarrasque was barely inconvenienced.

Shiv used his newly gained Farsight Awareness skill evolution to survey the battle from a distance. The skies above were painted in billowing waves of orange. The atmosphere was so hot that distortions hung in the air like quivering curtains. Massive formations of magi were actively trying to contain the blasts. Their ranks included dragon-knights, orcs, and even Inquisitors. They cast spells from the ruins of Lost Angeles as the sky was no longer theirs to hold. 

There had been an attempt by their aerial vanguards and cavalry to intercept the Tarrasque. Only the dragon-knights and a smattering of orcs survived that attempt.

The magi shaped a massive cage of bright yellow mana, and that extended for kilometers around the warzone. They were trying to make a quarantine to contain the Tarrasque's destructive movements. With every swing of its blade, with every burst of gravity it displaced, the air itself ionized, the world shuddered and cracked.

And near the Tarrasque, only two could contend with its might in proximity. The first was Sir Marikos, the Soaring Fortress; dragon-knight, Legend, and bearer of a Unique Skill. The other was the gigantic Jessica Hawgrave, whose blade contained the very town that Shiv had been trying to save. 

The town he needed to save if he wanted to gain a Legendary-Tier Skill as well.

A scream rose through the air, and a barrage of arcing missiles slammed down upon the Tarrasque. Blasts of Cryomancy, pyromancy, dimensionality, and more enveloped the massive beast, and they did little more than briefly stagger it. Shiv followed the path of the missiles back to the flying cathedral—the colossal automaton that Shiv briefly resided inside during his earlier unsuccessful attempt to infiltrate the Inquisition.

Things were different there. The Inquisition was keeping most of its forces in reserve, hoping to have the Dragon Knights and Orcs exhaust themselves. If Shiv had to guess, the Inquisition Cathedral ship was about six kilometers away from the Tarrasque and struggling Legends, and there was content to remain, dispatching singular formations of Pathbearer formations to aid in the struggle while keeping the rest of its near-hundred-thousand-strong army in reserve. 

Every now and again, one of the cathedral's missiles would find its way over to strike the city, consuming small groups of orcs in balls of spreading fire. Shiv scowled at the Inquisition's game. To call the bastards underhanded was an understatement, and holding back as a Tarrasque was rampaging was something only a fool might do.

Too bad for the Inquisition, Shiv intended to force them into the fray regardless if they wanted to join in or not.

"Ah, there they are in zoo," Bonk chuckled. "What a right mess we find ourselves in. But I told you to expect this, I told you that the Inquisition would be trying to exploit the situation for their own gain."

"Yeah," Shiv replied, "you did say that, didn't you? Well. Let’s get on with ‘motivating’ them. Can Hu? You really up for this?”

A loud whir sounded from within Shiv’s cape. “We are dealing with mechanical opposition. My presence will allow us to optimize our use of force and contain the adversary.” A beat followed. “And… I wish to discover how recovered I am in the field.”

Shiv breathed. “Fine. Just don’t let yourself get broken.” He was descending from high above, using clouds to mask his approach. Following him was a small army of four thousand orcs gathered from across the city—all focused toward speed and stealth.

A loud crash drew his attention back to the battle.

Farsight 51 > 52

Just then the Tarrasque emerged from the explosion, a move faster, faster than Shiv could track, and it was immediately upon Hawgrave. She was the largest of the three Legendary Tier combatants, but by no means the slowest either. Her blade shrank, becoming the size of a short sword, and she brought it down, parrying the Tarrasque's charging bulk downward. At the same time, her arms blurred into after images, striking the Tarrasque at the same time. A third afterimage erupted from her body and deflected a gravitational blast emanating from the Tarrasque.

A deafening explosion shook the world, the Tarrasque was spiked downward, and its many tentacles unleashed a flood of magic all upon Hawgrave's body. It was a flood of magic that did little to nothing, splitting around her dimension of inertium armor. Yet the Tarrasque righted itself before it was launched too far, a detonation of force washed over its enormous shape, and it held out both its hands, a singularity formed there. And then it was Hawgrave who was ripped out of position. 

But she went with the Tarrasque's overwhelming force, not even bothering to fight it. Her blade extended once more, it didn't grow as Shiv's former Skysplitter did. Instead, it elongated like a beam of light. A line of mana reached skyward, making her blade twice its former length. She slashed upward, and the blade passed through the singularity, utterly unaffected. Just then, as it descended against the Tarrasque's face, the Dimensionality faded, and the blade became a large hunk of rusted metal.

A flash of light washed over the world, a shockwave burst out and was held within the cage of magics, trying to keep the devastation at bay. The Tarrasque lurched backward, its head erupting in a spray of blood. Its singularity vanished, but before it could respond, Sir Marikos was upon it, and he brought his greataxe down upon its back so hard, the crystalline shell protecting it cracked. 

The Tarrasque tried to move, tried to discharge its gravitic powers once more. But as it did, Marikos simply blocked, and while Hawgrave was flung back and forced to manifest two flaming wheels beneath her feet to counteract the forces pressing against her body, Marikos remained in place. Marikos didn't move an inch.

An awkward stalemate had formed between the two, but in the time it took for Hawgrave to recover, and for Marikos to anchor himself against the Tarrasque's gravitational powers, the behemoth regenerated. Its bifurcated face came back together, and the cracks lining its shell filled. It let out a vicious cry, and it teleported. 

First, it materialized behind Marikos, and it seized the dragon-knight by the tail before he could turn. Marikos was immense. He made Shiv look like an insect. The Tarrasque, however, manhandled the dragon easily. Caught by surprise, Marikos barely managed a cry of alarm before he was flipped across the horizon. He tore through the air, ripping a bloody path through aerial path bearers, lest her Dragon Knights were blasted from the air, blasted from the sky. Orcs were caked against Marikos' obsidian armor, and inquisitors mostly vanished in puffs of blood or shards of bursting metal.

Hawgrave swung on the Tarrasque again, but the massive beast held out a hand, and before she could land a blow, her arms jolted to a brutal halt. Her entire body shuddered. She made herself grow larger, and she managed another meter closer to the Tarrasque. But that was all. Where the Tarrasque was slower than Hawgrave, and couldn't move Marikos when he was prepared, it was faster than the dragon knight, more versatile in its magic, and it was far stronger than Hawgrave. 

Strong enough to rip her off her feet and slam its immense bulk into her face. Her armor let out a metallic crash as she was launched through the sky as well. As she tumbled over and over, trying to right herself, her blade left her hand, swiping and slashing, blindly, scoring marks along the Tarrasque's body. But that was all they were, marks. Each cut barely went deeper, barely left a slight chip on its flesh, and every successive blow grew less and less effective. 

The Tarrasque was growing more resistant to physical force with every exchange.

"Holy shit," Shiv breathed at the sheer carnage on display. The fight here was like watching hell on earth. And it was felling awesome. It also reaffirmed one thing: Sullain would have annhilated Shiv if he wasn’t so emotionally compromised.

Hawgrave materialized the wheels beneath her feet, but then she let out a cry as the Tarrasque slammed a fist downward in the air. A massive blast of gravity struck her in the chest, and she went down, plunging into the abyss at jaw-dropping speeds. The air combusted around her, and in a moment, Hawgrave vanished into the darkness. 

Her blade tried to go after her, but it was held in place. Crashing waves of gravity collapsed around it, and the Tarrasque teleported, channeling its massive form into a stream of dimensionality mana. Spells bombarded it from all sides, but then it detonated its magical resistance once more, and the protective wards containing the devastation it wrought collapsed one and all. A collective scream followed. Every mage on the battlefield howled in misery as their mana fields were utterly shredded.

Shiv spiked himself faster. He was still just over a kilometer above from the cathedral ship itself, and eight from the actual battle. As he made his approach, he activated Creeping Void, releasing a deluge of blackness through the air. 

“Stealth Skills!” He shouted. “Patrols incoming.”

The orcs shouted confirmations to each other, and as one, they followed Shiv down, using the sound of his gravitic pulses to guide them.

Some of the Inquisitorial patrol formations rose through the cloud-beds beneath Shiv. Two wings of aerial calvary shot forth in his direction. They were followed by a group of jet-winged automata, each bearing long lances that sported gleaming tips. Shiv looked behind himself and studied the small army of stealth orcs that followed in his wake.

"All right, guys, we're about seconds out. You know Bonk’s plan. We take the ship, and we fly it into the battle, or we move it into the danger zone by whatever means possible, and we force the Inquisition to expend themselves. Hopefully we can find someone there to blackmail Hawgrave with. Hopefully we can find the City-Lord aboard the ship, and we'll be able to use him to blackmail Hawgrave into releasing the town as soon as possible."

His voice trailed off as he squinted with his Farsight. His vision zoomed and he found the sword. He found Hawgrave's sword struggling against the Tarrasque. Bursts of dimensionality mono washed through the air. It was like a flicking tongue of black and static, waving, tracing waves from the abyss to the sky.

 A gap formed in the sword and a dull cry of pain sounded. The Tarrasque slipped in, but just as it did, Marikos rejoined the fray, roaring in anger. His body was incandescent with a blazing inferno. He impacted the sides of the Tarrasque and went off like a bomb. A small sun manifested over the Tarrasque. The world grew bright enough to part the Abyss.

But rather than shatter this time, the beast's crystalline shell held.

The Tarrasque briefly reared back from the compromised sword, and it grappled with Marikos. Its massive hands closed around the dragon knight, trying to fling him aside. Marikos's greataxe licked up, and its edges were bright with an impossible amount of pyromancy mana. As Marikos struck the Tarrasque, an ocean of fire washed over its body. Yet even through the Inferno, Shiv could see the Tarrasque's outline. Its magical resistance glowed brighter than the flames consuming it.

"Stand and fight, monster," Marikos cried. He struck, hammered, and slashed with every bit of his greataxe. Its butt cracked into one of the Tarrasque's eyes. And then the dragon-knight adjusted his grip, dropping the bladed end against the Tarrasque's forehead. 

As he battered the beast, it let out an annoyed shriek and began to cut into him as well. The crystalline blades it had stabbed over the edges of its shield. Chunks of obsidian burst free from Marikos' armor while sparks filled the air as its dagger met the tip of Marikos’sgreataxe.

But while Marikos held the Tarrasque at bay for a moment, the instant it turned its full focus on him and released the blade, it was as if watching a storm assail a mountain. A hurricane far, far larger than said mountain. The air turned fluid with the plasma, and Shiv watched as the Tarrasque shuddered and then reappeared behind Marikos. 

It cleaved into his back, slashing deep through his armor. The dragon-knight doubled-over, but refused to be launched aside. He swept out with his axe, but the Tarrasque dodged and opened its mouth. It clamped its huge jaws down on Marikos, but recoiled as several teeth burst apart in bloodied fragments. Marikos then did what Shiv often used to face gargantuan monsters. He launched himself down the Tarrasque's throat.

But the titanic beast had learned from its earlier encounter with Shiv. It tore itself in half immediately, ripping its throat open with a burst of Biomancy mana unleashed by a tentacle. At the same time, it projected itself upward into the air, and Marikos tumbled free from inside the Tarrasque's chin in a welter of blood. 

Surprised, Marikos tried to reorient himself, only for the Tarrasque to swat him over the head with a claw. The world shook. Marikos' armor shattered. Blood erupted from the dragon’s face. He blasted down toward the Abyss as well, and in the same instant, the Tarrasque teleported once more.

Hawgrave’s blade had been falling while Marikos and the Tarrasque warred, but it went stiff as a stream of dimensionality speared into it. This time, the Tarrasque managed something of a partial jump as its upper body vanished in a stream of blackened static pouring into the blade. Shiv's heart rate accelerated, and he realized the Republic patrols were within his Creeping Void. 

It was time for him to start causing some chaos of his own.

He immediately began creating a Vitae Golem and started infusing it with specific skills—one among which was Omnimancy.

Thanks for the last gift, Sullain. Let’s see what I can do with it.

"There, capture that ship, drive it toward the chaos, bring me the City-Lord, and get out afterward," he declared, and as one, the orcs behind him pumped their fists but didn’t cheer.

But the Deathless was distracted. His eyes kept flicking to the Tarrasque, slowly vanishing into the blade. He needed to be faster, he needed. And just then, Hawgrave rejoined the battle. She shot high up into the air, and caught the Tarrasque by its hind legs. It kicked against her, and a few of its tentacles whipped and channeled beams of magic to drive her off. But the Tarrasque's spellcraft was raw and primal, and Hawgrave’s armor was anathema to attuned mana itself.

"Come on, you fucker," Hawgrave shouted. “Get out of my Rusty.” She struck the Tarrasque with a brutal uppercut, and she reared back with all her might. The wheels at her feet were spinning faster and faster, jet streams of fire erupted behind them. In the same instant, a field of Dimensionality collapsed around the Tarrasque, and began to pull as well. 

Some of the mages in the battle had recovered, and together they formed spells of force to dislodge the Tarrasque. Yet they were weak after having their mana fields shredded, and their spells broke apart against the Tarrasque's magical resistance. However, it did surprise the Tarrasque long enough for Hawgrave to rip it out with an animalistic shout.

She flung the Tarrasque through the air, and at the same time wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her blade. She swiped it up in a reverse grip, accelerating toward the Tarrasque even as it flew. Shiv couldn't tell how many times she cut it. With every strike, she seemed to perform ten others, each one something between an after image or a mirage, or maybe she was simply cutting so fast that she utterly exceeded Shiv's ability to perceive. 

The Tarrasque went tumbling through the sky, and every time it tried to summon its gravitic powers, Hawgrave would drive the tip of her blade into its skull. The interruptions kept the Tarrasque on the back foot for now, but Shiv noticed that her cuts were dealing concussive damage. Its shell wasn't even getting scratched anymore.

"Eyes forward, Insul," Bonk said, knocking Shiv on the side of the head with a club. "Focus!"

It was the first time the Heroic-Tier orc properly chided him, and Shiv just nodded. He realized why a moment later, and saw his small army of stealth orcs butchering the patrols sent their way. Cuts of sound had formed around the patrols, and the orcs were upon them, ripping them asunder with bare hands, daggers, short swords, stilettos, or in one case, what looked to be piano wire.

"Go! Go now!" Shiv ordered his Vitae Golem. It shot forward through the air, and with a flash of gold vanished. A moment later, a massive blast detonated over the flying cathedral.

Golemancy 9 > 12

Shiv grinned and accelerated forth himself. Chaos swept through the inquisitorial ranks, and it only got worse as a blanket of Creeping Void splashed down over them, blackening the space around the cathedral-sized ship. At the same time, the magi formations near the ship had pockets blown into them. Some were set ablaze, glittering like embers in the air, while others were annihilated outright. 

The survivors were scattered, and ultimately, unready to contend with a small army of Master-Tier Stealth and Reflex orcs in their midst.

Shiv's Golem had been infused with four skills aside from Omnimancy. The first was Pillar of Orichalcum. What followed were Gravitic Wrestler, Strider of the Unbending Path, and finally, Inertial Overdrive. 

He dispatched it with a single order. To have it fly as close to the ship as possible, brutalize as many magi as possible with the Omnimancy, activate its Pillar of Orichalcum, and then spike itself as much as it could, as fast as it could, before discharging, just before it ran out of vitality.

Inertial Overdrive 125 > 126

Gravitic Wrestler 170 > 171

The resulting explosion had two effects. The first was utterly disrupting the protective formations surrounding the Inquisitorial cathedral ship-automaton thing. The second was damaging its upper section, large enough that someone might be able to lodge themselves within its hull if they couldn't get inside it. 

And that was when Shiv froze time himself. 

He shoved Bonk inside his cape alongside Can Hu, who he alerted to the plan along the way, and taking advantage of the chaos, he accelerated through the air, leaving most of the formations to the mercy of the stealth orcs he managed to wrangle up with him.

As he got within 500 meters of the ship, he felt that dense field of shifting Magical Resistance that troubled him earlier. Shiv went outside of context to avoid risking his temporal shell. Coldness licked through him, but he was going to start draining from the ship, or reality itself later, and ultimately he wasn't going to stay out of context for long. 

He slammed against the top side of the ship and found its outer hull badly mauled. Where once the upper section of the ship was lined with large towers and parapets, now it was flattened and fissured, with many sections rendered mangled furls of alloy. 

However it was a testament to the cathedral-sized automaton, that its insides weren't breached at all. High Master-Tier Toughness, at least, Shiv thought to himself. He lodged himself against a particularly deep chasm in its hull, and he dismissed both his outside context and his temporal shell to avoid suffering any damage to his Chronomancy.

In the same instant, he manifested his Pillar of Orichalcum. A flash of red and gold extended skyward from Shiv's body, and also staked down into the ship’s damaged hull.

He clung hard to the ship's damaged exterior, and he committed every bit of focus he had to increasing his toughness. He didn't bother with his Inertial Overdrive yet. He didn't want to be distracted. The pillar grew more solid with every passing second, and as the orcs slammed into the ranks of the Inquisition, chaos erupted in all directions. 

Shiv could hear the roar of battle, of screams filling the air, but he ignored them. He ignored them because a sweeter sound greeted him. The sound of metal groaning and parting, and the feeling of the ship shuddering to a brutal halt against his pillar.

Initially, even with his pillar of Orichalcum piercing, grinding against the bottom of the ship, it continued dragging him along. But as it grew more solid, and as Shiv refused to move, as Shiv was anchored in place, the topside of the cathedral ship began to rip open as if a metal rod had been inserted into a compromised sheet of metal as it was accelerating through the sky. The cathedral ship ground more of itself apart against Shiv, but soon came to an utter halt. A loud electronic cry sounded through the air, followed by klaxons and sirens.

Shiv was where one of the cathedral ship's larger arches used to be. Now it was mostly a deformed gorge, with hissing steam and leaking hydraulics spilling through the air. But staring along the back of the ship, he could see a series of ports where it fired its missiles from earlier, and each port unleashed a pulse of mana. A few Shiv could recognize: Hydromancy, Pyromancy, and to his surprise, Biomancy, though that one was the weakest, adept at most.

"All hands," the ship bellowed. "We have been boarded. There are enemies in the air. There are intruders on the hull. Prepare for cleansing protocols. Prepare." And then a burst of static, followed by a loud shrieking noise, came from the cathedral ship's speakers.

"Can Hu! Bonk! Out! Now!" Shiv called out.

The first one out was the orc with the club, and he emerged, slamming his weapon against the top side of the ship. The entire structure began to rattle and shake violently, and soon he was using his heroic pure skill to great effect. With every impact, the resonance built, and the ship began to tear asunder even more. Can Hu, meanwhile, emerged from inside Shiv. But to his surprise, the penitent, was nowhere to be seen. 

Instead, a large ball with a series of extended metal flaps jutting out behind it hovered in the air, and from behind a panel of glass, the penitent piloted a vessel of its own making. At the same time, he channeled streams of binaric numbers from his green optics, and they spilled through the cathedral ship, spreading as if a plague. Soon, the entire expanse of the cathedral ship was drowned in ones and zeros, the numerals sinking deeper, growing brighter and more frequent, until the vessel was utterly bathed.

"Un-un-unable to comply," the cathedral ship cried out.

"That's okay, let me help you," Bonk shouted in response. As the huge orc struck the ship once more, its outsides cracked, one of its engines exploded and then tore off the rest of the structure. The resonating vibrations were hitting new heights, and the ship wouldn't be able to take much more of this. And so Bonk stopped hitting the ship, rather he waited. He waited and watched as the hull beneath Shiv's Pillar of Orichalcum finally split apart, and just then the insides of the ship depressurized. People were sucked out in an instant, but with Shiv's Pillar of Orichalcum lodged against the ship's exterior, they were dragged out along the cracks, and they emerged as streams of spraying gore.

Pillar of Orichalcum 213 > 214

Bonk laughed as he drove his club between the gaps and started to lever violently. More of the cathedral ship's hull broke apart, and a second later Bonk jumped down, dropping inside the ship. Shiv cast himself back in time, skipping the hull weakening process, and then accelerated into the open wound as well. 

He slammed down next to Bonk just as Can Hu arrived, and even with the Pillar of Orichalcum dismissed, the cathedral ship didn't move.

"Can Hu, how's it going?" Shiv asked. “You got this?”

"This machine is suppressed, but not subdued," Can Hu replied. "It is trying to fight me for control over its sensors, engines, and core."

"Can you take control of it?" Shiv asked. He looked around, and he was pretty sure they were inside crew quarters. Several bunk beds lay scattered nearby. A mess of armor and weapons were scattered on the ground, and messy splatters of awful painted the walls, which felt sympathetic for the inquisitors here. Whatever his animosity toward them, this was an ugly way to go.

"I will be able to attain full control over its sensory mechanisms in the next minute. Full subversion will likely take time." Can Hu paused as a brief series of beeps sounded from inside his flying apparatus. "Ten minutes and thirty-four seconds."

"Hear that, Insul?" the orc chuckled. "Ten minutes and thirty-four seconds. No time at all in a day, but an eternity in a fight. Now let's go buy the Penitent some time."

"I will remain here in this compartment," Can Hu said. "My current armor should be capable of contending or at least delaying an Adept-Tier adversary in combat. I will direct the other orcs through this gap once they arrive."

Shiv gave Can Hu a nod. "Alright, stay safe, don't get killed, and if things go south, get out."

"Understood, Pathbearer. May you experience many violent deaths."

Shiv grinned and gave Can Hu a thumbs up. As he staggered toward the door, he found a wheel lodged to its center rather than any handle. He realized this was more like a vault door than anything else, and he rolled his arms, preparing to use his gravitic field to rip it free.

"No, no," Bonk stopped him with an outstretched hand. "We don't want to compromise the internal structure anymore. It's already very unstable." Just then, the Orc placed a palm on Shiv's chest. The Deathless blinked, but then the Orc started vibrating, and so did Shiv. Before he could ask Bonk what he was doing, Bonk took a step into the door and then started phasing through it. 

Shiv's eyes widened, and Bonk tightened his grip on Shiv's torso. With a pull, both of them were through, and Shiv slipped past solid matter in an instant. He couldn't breathe. Everything felt tight around him, heavy. Shiv wasn't particularly claustrophobic, but even so, the sensations weren't what he called pleasing.

They were inside a narrow set of corridors then, and Shiv noticed a spider-like automaton crawling along the walls. His single glowing eye noticed them, and it reared back, preparing to act, only for a bone drill to shoot out from Shiv's cape and punch clean through its head.

Marksmanship 13 > 14

As it crashed down, sparks flew out from its open wound, and Shiv waited for more enemies to arrive. But when none did, he let out a breath and looked at Bonk. "What the hells was that?"

"A Master Tier skill," Bonk grinned.

"What kind," Shiv asked.

Bonk pressed his lips together. The Deathless shook his head and snorted. "Fine, keep your secrets, I'll beat 'em out of you one day."

"One day soon," the orc replied. "We haven't gotten the chance to properly spar, have we?"

"Get to that. After I reached Legendary."

"Huh, taking advantage of my kindness," Bonk commented from behind. But then the orc laughed. "Finally, what a very orc-like thing for you to do."

Shiv ignored him, and they continued down the halls. As they came to a splitting path, Bonk tapped Shiv on the shoulder and gestured for him to follow.

The Deathless blinked at the orc. "How do you know where to go?"

"Because the entire place is vibrating," Bonk said, "and that means I have a very clear spatial visual map of every quarter and every person within this vessel." And slowly he turned, "including the city lord you want to talk to."

And just then, Bonk swung out his club and utterly obliterated an invisible Pathbearer Shiv didn't even notice. A splash of red painted the walls, and a mangled bag of meat, clad within a compromised suit of armor, impacted the far wall.

"Let's keep going," Bonk said, ignoring the man he just killed.

They descended through the insides of the ship, but with every passing second, screams sounded from the bulkheads, from within rooms, screams and orcish laughter. How the other orcs were infiltrating the ship Shiv didn't know, but there were many skills available to a path bearer, and if they were like Bonk in any way, they might just be able to phase into the ship, rather than ripping it asunder, a la Shiv.

Shiv frowned slightly to himself as he crushed the head of an opponent. Adam had compared him to the orcs several times, stating that he was brutal like them, that he was rough like them, but increasingly he didn't quite think so. He was more brutal than the orcs, he was rawer than the orcs. 

The orcs were only brutal because they found it to be amusing. Shiv was brutal because he had no other options.

When this is done and I have a Legendary skill, I'm going to tell the system to go fuck itself, and I'm spend some actual time getting all my schooling and supplemental skills improved. This is bullshit. I don't want to be sloppier than an orc.

After a few minutes of frantic fighting, they arrived before a large set of doors.

"Alright," Bonk said, beginning to vibrate again. "Time for us to…"

And then the light above the door flashed green as it suddenly came open. Just then a crackle sounded through the halls. "Shiv, Bonk, I am within. I have penetrated the ship's communication network. In another minute, I will have full control. I am granting you access to the missile loading bay now."

"Damn. Good job, Can Hu," Shiv replied. The penitent was getting stronger, and Shiv loved to see it, especially since he was one of the reasons for Can Hu's recovery.

As soon as they entered the room, Bonk held out a hand, and Shiv halted behind him. The orc leaned in close and pointed down the large chamber before them. A series of shifting belts moved in the air along the ceiling, and they carried with them large tube-like arrows enchanted with magic. 

They were being loaded into long cylinders by a mess of metallic hands. In the background, large gears spun, and steam filled the room with misty ambiance. "Four rows of cylinders down, third run horizontal. Our friend is inside one of those alone. I think he’s trying to launch himself out and flee.” The orc laughed. “How delightful.”

Shiv did a double-take. "The… City-Lord's hiding inside one of the cylinders?"

Bonk said with a slight chuckle, "He ran inside immediately earlier. I think he was shouting something about letting him free or firing himself out. He was used quite a bit of profanity."

Shiv stared at the orc. "You could hear all that?"

"More like feel the vibrations, but yes."

"Why does everyone have a better Awareness skill than I do?"

"Because you should learn to use more than your eyes."

"I did," Shiv replied, as he pouted.

"Without your enchantments."

The Deathless pouted harder. "Alright," he said, "I'm going to go say hi to the City-Lord."

The orc shouldered his club and stared at Shiv with one eye. "Alone?"

"Yeah," Shiv said, as he prepared to shift out of context. "This way he won't see me coming. And also, if shit goes wrong, hit the bastard over the back of the head.”

And then he did something Bonk couldn't do. He vanished into his vitae and stopped time.

He rushed to the cylinder Bonk indicated, and he reached up, ripping it open with a snarl. Inside, he found the city lord hiding. The man was fully armored, and bolts of arcing electricity danced along the copper wiring lining the exterior of Stormhalt's plates. Shiv scoffed in disgust at the city lord. "Running alone and leaving your forces. Aren't you pathetic?" He struck the City-Lord in the gut once, and a detonation of white and red spread through the missile loading bay.

A loud grunt sounded from the city lord as he tumbled over, coughing violently, and Shiv caught him by the throat. He lifted the man up and ripped his helmet from his face. Lightning spilled out from the City-Lord's eyes as his expression twisted in a scowl. Before the City-Lord could unleash any of his Aeromancy, Shiv briefly slapped him across the left ear. 

The man let out a cry and he stumbled. Shiv wrapped his Aegis of Assimilation over the man and began to squeeze against his Magical Resistance. His armor flared with radiant mana, but slowly it began to crack.

"Pretty good resistances," Shiv grunted. "Hell, pretty good armor in general, I didn't even manage to dent it. What is that, heroic?"

The City-Lord muttered something under his breath. Something Shiv couldn't hear. "What is that? Couldn't quite catch that."

Stormhalt coughed a few more times, but slowly he straightened himself. Shiv kept his Biomancy tied around the city lord's body, and he gripped and squeezed the man's throat as well. The man choked.

"I said," the City-Lord wheezed, "Lady Kathereine, the Songbringer, I invoke your power.”

"Huh?" Shiv said, not fully understanding the City-Lord's words. But then a whisper danced across Shiv's ears, and he heard a lyrical, soft, but ultimately alluring female voice come from behind him thereafter.

"And you have my aid, oh Stormhalt. You have my promised aid, and that of my husband as well."

And just then, Stormhalt smirked at Shiv. At the same time, the Deathless's Psycho-Cartography skill screamed in terror, demanding that he cover the City Lord's mouth. That was all the city lord got out before Shiv clamped his jaw shut. But in the next moment, a thunderous presence settled beside Shiv. A thunderous presence that loomed over him. For the first time, the Deathless chanced to glance to his right, and he was surprised to see a towering figure glaring down at him. 

They looked faint and ethereal, yet their presence was undeniable. Their mane and beard were comprised of twisting storms, and their eyes flashed with bolts of rageful lightning. Their body was shrouded in a dense robe of stormstuff, and in their right arm was a spear, while the left was a shield made from slabs of stone. 

Draped around the giant's back was a feminine figure. Shiv could only see half her face, but her features were among the most alluring he ever witnessed. Her hair was well-styled, curled at the ends, and her lips were red, while her skin was white as a sheet.

Just then, the City-Lord clamped his hand around Shiv's wrist, and he began to pull. To Shiv's surprise, he felt his grasp get ripped aside as blast of lightning struck him in the chest. The Deathless was blasted against a missile cylinder just behind him, and suddenly, the City-Lord’s fingers were wrapped around his throat. 

A billowing cape of storms expanded from his back. His lightning grew denser and darker—more than meager Aeromancy. And Shiv felt a few bolts rip through his flesh as it forked against him.

"I wasn't trying to escape," the City-Lord said calmly, with a snarl behind his lips. "I was trying to fire myself into battle, and to carry my gods into the fray. I am no coward, you damned foolish child. I am an Avatar of the Ascendants, and on this day I have come for one reason, and one reason alone: to break Roland Arrow and take back what he has stolen.”