It was boring work, made worse by the sticky discomfort of his armour. Blood and ichor had soaked through it utterly, half drying into a tacky paste that clung to his skin with every movement. Worst were the fresh patches, those were slimy.

They also, unfortunately, accounted for approximately half of his underarmour. His Fractured Warp was…indescriminate. While none of the wounds had been disabling, it’d meant a heavy hit to his health — nearly a thousand, though that number was likely to vary.

Thank the gods most of the spatial ripples were directed away from him when he landed. If he had to deal with the full brunt, the spell would be nigh unusable. As it was, it would require a careful hand. Even dangerous, the ability to instantly reposition was valuable beyond compare. He doubted many opponents in the second and third tiers would be ready for instant teleportation, especially when he didn’t have to channel.

Shoving his boredom and discomfort down, he watched the culling continue.

Not all had taken him up on his offer of free experience. Hells, most hadn’t. He would have to be insane to think that mothers with young children, or the elderly would jump at the bit to kill some beasts. Thankfully, those who had stood and fought when they’d had to had come in droves. There had to be hundreds of them, stacked up in two snaking lines that wove back to the main body of the citizens. Most of them had yet to reach their middle years. Even if someone never picked up a blade in their life, they’d have to be a hell of a slovenly bastard not to hit level forty by the time they had a few grey hairs.

That said, they’d gotten better at it, compared to a quarter hour ago. At first, almost every single person he ushered towards the grubs was an anxious mess. Understandable, with what they had gone through, even if Ianmus’s Sanctified Lilyfield had the creatures locked down tighter than a watchman’s chains.

Now, they tore into the piled meat hungrily. Frustration, fear, and anger was vented in a constant heave of descending bashes, spending their hoarded anxieties on ichor and shattered carapace.

Hells, he’d had to start reminding them every few minutes to switch out when they stopped getting bonus experience.

A mental nudge grabbed his attention. Kaius looked over to the entrance of the other breached tunnel, and saw Porkchop looking his way over the top of the crowd. Kenva was lounging next to him — an insurance in case there was a problem that needed a little more delicacy than Porkchop could manage alone.

“Ianmus wants you,” Porkchop said seriously, sending him a location towards the centre of the main group. “He’s found Niles, needs your help getting some information from him. Kenva’s happy to watch your side while you go.”

A jolt of shock banished Kaius’s boredom. Niles? He’d known it was likely that he would have been down here, but he would have thought he’d have been well away from any fighting. The idiot didn’t even have a class!

“Is he injured?” Kaius asked hastily, pushing himself away from the wall.

The sudden motion drew the attention of those waiting closest to him. Kaius gave them a reassuring smile. “I’ve got to check on something. My ranger will look after you.”

“Some sort of mana poisoning. Ianmus has him stable, but he’s delirious — thinks you might have a better shot at figuring out what happened to him,” Porkchop replied as Kaius hurried in the direction he’d been shown.

Mana poisoning? That made no sense. Sure, aspected mana could be dangerous in high quantities, but his body should naturally purge it. With Ianmus stabilising him, the problem should fade on its own. There had to be something else going on.

“Thanks, I’ll try come back soon,” Kaius replied.

Rushing across the dome, Kaius spotted Ianmus quickly. To save time, the mage had gathered everyone with a healing ability into a makeshift field hospital separated from the main group of civilians.

Hundreds of the wounded lay in neat rows as healers rushed through their lines. Some likely just needed time for their health to go to work. Others were more precarious, their injuries obvious even from across the city-square sized dome. The acid burns the grubs had left were vicious, and those who’d been unlucky enough to have a beast fall on them had suffered wounds to their torso’s and necks.

Healers clustered over the weeping holes, everyone from mid-wives to medics using their Skills to bolster Health efficiency and directly treat the injuries while the slow recovery of health went to work.

Grimacing, Kaius put the gruesome sights out of mind and hurried towards his friend. Ianmus was set up in the centre, by the worst wounded. Solar magic flowed from his staff in a constant wave. Tendrils of light brushed against torn flesh and weeping sores, leaving new flesh in its wake.

There, lying next to him, was Niles. He was pale, his features sunken — like he was slowly being consumed by some wasting disease. A dusty grey mana covered him like a shroud. Kaius could taste the magic on his tongue — the cold finality of gravedirt.

He’d seen the affinity everywhere in the dome, but it was scattered. Around Niles, though, it coursed in a flood.

Seeing him in such a state opened a hole in Kaius’s belly. Gods, what had happened to him?

Speeding up his pace, he arrived quickly. He dropped into a low crouch next to Ianmus, eyes roving over Niles’ sickly form.

“What happened?” Kaius whispered.

“No clue,” Ianmus replied, before he sent a Ray of Tender Recovery splashing over Niles body.

The boy murmured, shifting in his daze, but nothing more.

“His health keeps dropping like a stone, it’s all I can do to keep him topped up. Some sort of death-adjacent mana keeps gathering around him. Someone who was near him said his symptoms started after he killed one of the mutated ceratin, but none of them had the ocular skills to see the mana, or what might have caused it. It might be an affliction, or he’s done it to himself. ”

Kaius looked at Niles with a deep frown, unable to squash the cloying weight that he was somehow responsible for their current state. Why had he been fighting? Even if he was working towards a combat class, and had some good skills, he should have been nowhere near the front. Had he lied about his age? He knew Niles still had a few more years until his class selection, but he looked old enough he might pass as a fresh classer. Just.

Wincing, Kaius banished the thought. Besides, he couldn’t fault Niles, not when he would have done the same.

Leaning forwards, he gripped the boy by the shoulder, jerking him sharply.

“Niles! It’s Kaius, I need you to tell me what happened.”

Groaning, Niles’ eyes fluttered open. Wide and unfocused, they rolled in his sockets, before finally settling on Kaius.

“...Kaius?” he mumbled, struggling to sit up before he slumped again a moment later. His eyes fluttered closed.

Kaius growled. He needed the fool’s attention.

“Niles! Focus on me!” Kaius snapped, Eirnith burning on his temples as he cast Compel Obsession. He only had two more copies of the spell left, but to the hells if he was going to let an unclassed kid die just because he was stingy with his magic.

The spell hit Niles like a slap. He gasped, eyes snapping open as he focused on Kaius with unnerving fervour.

“What happened?” Kaius pressed, “Where’s this mana coming from?”

Niles gaped at him blankly for a moment. He blinked, eyes refocusing. “...it guided me.”

Hells, he was still delirious.

“What guided you!” Kaius hissed.

“Mana.” Niles said slowly, chewing every syllable. “Got…a skill. Is it….good?”

Ianmus whipped his head towards Niles, his stare as hard as cold iron. “What’s the skill called, Niles. I need to know.”

Niles blinked slowly, turning to stare at the mage. He frowned, as if he was fighting to recall.

“Sepulchre…Attunement.”

Ianmus jolted as if he’d been slapped. “Stupid! Should’ve bloody known,” he hissed, before turning his attention back to Niles. “Take the skill!”

Kaius watched niles blink slowly, an anxious knot in his belly. What in the hells was an attunement skill, and what did it have to do with Niles condition.

A moment later, Niles gasped. Mana flowed out of him with the breath, an ashen fog that slowly began to disperse into the surrounding air. He slumped a moment later, slipping out of consciousness.

Ianmus watched the change and sighed in relief. “Thank the gods,”

“Mind explaining what the fuck just happened?” Kaius asked, still watching Niles warily.

“He got an attunement skill, though I've no idea how, let alone for an obscure death-adjacent affinity I’ve seen mentioned maybe once. They’re vanishingly rare, I’ve only met one other person with one — the valedictorian when I was a second year at the academy.”

Ianmus paused, gathering his words. “They act like a cross between an enhancement, resistance and manipulation skill. They’re…dangerous to acquire. First you need to be lucky enough to have or form an innate link to a specific mana type — though forming one of those with a death affinity? That usually only happens to people who have lived closer to death than even you, Kaius. Those who brushed it, and returned changed.”

Ianmus gave Niles a long and thoughtful look. “After that, you need to actively strengthen that connection. That, as you’ve seen, leads to a mana of that affinity being attracted and absorbed. Without the skill itself, you end up rapidly poisoning yourself — especially in a place like this where it's of a high density. Now he has it, he’ll come right in a few minutes.”

Kaius gave Niles a dire look. What had happened to the kid? They’d chatted a few times, in fits and spurts. It was clear he was an orphan, that he lost someone in the initial waves of beast attacks — but the grim tone in Ianmus’s voice suggested that wasn’t enough. That it had to be personal.

Watching the boy stir, Kaius left his questions to the side. Everyone had secrets — he knew that more than most.

“...Kaius?” Niles questioned, shakily pushing himself up. “What happened? Are we still under attack?”

Kaius gave him an easy grin. “The city, yes. We’ve dealt with the problem down here though. How are you feeling?”

“Utterly terrible.”

Letting out a laugh, Kaius shook his head at Niles. “Better than dead, and you came uncomfortably close. A good thing we managed to get you to take that Skill.”

To Kaius’s surprise, Niles slumped in disappointment at the mention of that. His eyes went glassy, a tell tale sign he was reading his notifications.

“You’re upset? Why? From the sounds of it, an attunement is quite rare.”

“It’s good…I just wanted Identify.”

Kaius looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “You already have a skill with an ocular component — you’ll likely get some form of analysis by Silver. Besides, that’s what teams are for. You’ll be fine — better an attunement than dying from mana poisoning. Just take some time to figure out what the skill means for your build, and try your hand at a good last skill.”

Niles paused for a moment, before giving him a slow nod. “I got offered another. Gravestrike. Rare.”

Kaius shook his head. It sounded like a weapon enhancement passive — it would be a waste. Between Vesryn Bladedrills and his Attunement, Niles had a good shot of discovering a better one.

“If you remember how, you can always unlock it again later. You’ve got nearly two years left, and once you’ve unlocked some decent control over mana, especially over a specific affinity, there’s plenty of interesting skills that can pop up with experimentation. I know a fair bit about infusing your blade with energy, I can share you a few shaping exercises — though I don’t know how it will interact with an Attunement, but I'm sure Ianmus could give you a few pointers there. Still, there’s no reason not to try for an Unusual, or if you’re lucky, another Unique.”

Niles nodded thoughtfully, relaxing just a hair. A moment later, the boy lit up. “Oh! That’s right! I got an Hono—”

Kaius hissed, his eyes widening as he cut the boy off. He looked around, only relaxing when he saw no sign of anyone hearing what Niles had said. An Honour? That was a mixed blessing — it would be fantastic for Niles future growth, and the extra stats might even help with acquiring an exotic skill, but it would make it all the harder to keep unclassed Honours from falling into the wrong hands.

It’d get out eventually, but as far as he was aware, the guild planned to wait until the hubbub around open access to legacy skills died down. They didn’t want overconfidence causing any accidents, or worse, those who hungered for power and prestige forcing kids into the depths.

“Don’t spread that round. We don’t need kids getting themselves killed, yeah?” Kaius said, giving Niles a meaningful look.

Maybe he should take the kid to Dawntown when they stopped by for a visit on their way to the Dukedoms. It’d be a hell of a lot easier for him to find a team of similar capabilities there — hell, he’d be well placed for some of the other Honours their younger generation was working towards.

Niles gave him a shaky nod.

Kaius sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Listen, we’re only going to be down here until the last of the grubs have come through. There’s still a siege up top, and we’ve already taken out the hive queen that was spawning them. Ianmus can fill you in on why we’re trying to keep that quiet, and once this is done we can take you someplace where there are others trying to push the boundaries in a similar way. If you want that, that is.”

Niles let out a shaky breath, and nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Good, then I need to get back to watching the tunnels — can’t let Porkchop do all the work,” he said, giving Niles a smile.

As he stood up, Ianmus caught his eye. “I’ll need about half an hour to stabilise the rest of the worst cases, they’ll be fine if I leave them to the medics after that.”

That was fine by him — judging by the numbers they’d seen on their journey here, it’d be another quarter hour on top of that before they’d finished clearing out the last of the ceratin larvae.

Kaius made his way back to the tunnels, relieved that the issue with Niles had proven easily solvable. He liked the kid — he had the kind of grit in him that meant he would go far, if he put in the effort to train hard, and temper the worst of his reckless impulses.

Snorting, he couldn’t help but acknowledge he was being a mite hypocritical.

Regardless, he itched to get back up top. Staying here until the job was fully finished was vital, but it irked him to sit around while others were actively spilling blood in the defence of their homes. Having no way to contact Ro and check up on the situation only worsened the feeling.

He lay a steadying hand on the pommel of his sword. The Tyrant’s time would come soon enough, he could feel it in his bones. Now that they’d bested its final ploy, all that was left was to face it directly.

A/N: Soz for delay, ended up adding a few more paras while cleaning up the chapter

2026-02-10 22:12:50 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 512: Mop Up, pt. 1

Niles stared at the skills that had been offered to him, grappling with what he was seeing. Sepulchre Attunement? He had no clue what an Attunement skill was — but if it was the reason it felt like his bones were splintering inside of him, he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing.

The other, Gravestrike, must have been what he did with his blade. Some weapon enhancement Skill with a sepulchre affinity, most likely.

Feeling his heart squeeze in his chest, Niles’ mind raced. Whatever he’d done had left its damage. It was building even now, a slow degradation that gnawed within him. Would the Attunement skill fix it? He only had two skill slots left — if he took it, he’d never get the chance to take Identify.

But if he rejected it, would he ever see it again? Would he even live?

White-hot pain ripped through his chest, stealing away his breath. Niles staggered, feeling the inexorable touch of mana within him build.

He had to make a choice, now — before it was taken from him. He’d have to head for the healers afterwards.

Not that we have any worth mentioning — barely more than midwives and those with a few first aid Skills. It was a bitter thought; every true healer was above, supporting the defence of the city.

An explosion ripped through the dome before he could commit to a path. Niles snapped to the sound. It had come from one of the breached tunnels. Was it some fresh hell the gods had sent to torment them further?

All hints to the source of the noise were shielded by an eruption of ichor. It was a deluge of slaughter, hundreds of grubs liquified instantly as their viscera was ejected in every direction.

Mere moments later, a figure burst through the wall of liquified beasts, raking through a swathe of creatures with a sword that seemed to melt into the very air. Their motion was impossible to track — all Niles could follow was the evidence of their passing. Where they went, they left only the dead.

Niles blinked — was he imagining things? Had the mana sickness within him caused some sort of delirium? Surely not, it hadn’t even been half a minute.

Whoever the bladesman was, they were strong. Blue light flashed again and again, tracing the arcs of their strange sword as layered cracks ripped through the dome. Every detonation was joined by a brighter flash; the light revealed only splattered beasts as it faded.

Who were they? It wasn’t the guildmaster, nor the strange bone-armoured man from Grandbrook. Had other Golds arrived to relieve their siege? Niles couldn’t think of any other explanation. Not with how fast; how totally the sole figure was tearing through the beasts.

Frowning, Niles tried to focus through the throbbing pulse in his head. Gods, it was so bloody hard to think. He needed to get to the healers, and see if they could figure out what happened to him.

Something kept him rooted in place. It was the Gold’s movements. Swift as they were, he caught almost nothing — but there was something about it that was undeniably familiar. An impossibility that held him in place despite the fact that it felt like the hard stone floor was swaying beneath his feet.

Behind the swordsman, Niles caught sight of something that made him blink. A cloud of autumn leaves, howling on a nonexistent wind. They tore out of one of the breached tunnels like they were carried by a hurricane.

Now he was definitely sure he was seeing things.

Niles planted his blade on the stone ground, leaning on its hilt to keep upright.

“Kid?” a distant voice asked.

He barely heard them, focused on the swirling leaves. Others in the crowd were pointing at them — maybe they did really exist?

Swooping low, the leaves came to a swirling halt just in front of the front line of defenders. Sweeping in, they swirled into a tight, obscuring spiral.

Niles blinked again, listing to the side before he caught himself. Someone steadied him.

The leaves vanished, replaced by a woman. She held a bow almost as tall as she was, with an arrow already by her cheek.

He felt the twang of her bow — a concussive crack that washed over him as her projectile ripped towards the grubs.

The arrow seemed to fracture mid-flight, and the beasts simply…vanished. An entire section, gone; replaced by a carpet of pulped flesh.

Frowning, Niles struggled to focus through his blurry eyes.

“Hey, something's wrong with him! I can’t see any bites, but…”

The voice smeared into meaningless noise.

Was the woman a little blue? He’d thought she was just pale at first, but against the sea of yellow grubs, he was certain that her skin had a blue tinge to it.

Recognition cut through his pain and exhaustion. Kenva.

His eyes widened in shock. Whipping his head over so fast the room spun, he stared at the swordsman who was ripping back and forth across the dome. He saw. The glow of magic seeping from the slits in their visor, and wafting from their sabatons. The faint impression of scalemail. The bloody blade that seemed more like a thing of smoke and vapour than cutting steel.

Oh good. They were saved.

Niles collapsed, overwhelmed by the creeping touch of sepulchre mana that had been building within him.

….

Kaius sprinted across the dome, his every movement splattering larvae and soaking his boots with more ichor.

He only wished he could be faster. Bloody swarms were such a pain in the ass. Even with Slipstep, there were only so many he could reach. Mystic’s Rend helped, but even with every detonation slaying the grubs by the dozen, there were thousands that remained.

Gritting his teeth, he slashed in a low arc. Yellow-brown ichor sprayed away from him, the only remnants of an enemy too weak to survive his presence.

The survivors were holding — just. The Castellan had been right on the verge of activating its defenses. Only his latest spell had made Kaius ask it to stay its hand. All he’d needed was a glimpse through one of the boreholes the grubs had left as they’d tunneled in from the catacombs.

What a spell it was — the sensation of ripping his way through the very foundations of distance was intoxicating. It was an experience he’d paid for. Every part of him ached — those spatial fluctuations had been no joke. They’d torn right through every defense he had, pulverising him from the inside out.

Iron still hung heavy on his tongue, but Kaius refused to let the pain show — not when it was clear how desperately those sheltering in the dome needed him to be strong.

A crowd thousands strong, crammed into as small a space as possible. Even squeezing into the maintenance tunnels that surrounded the dome, they still took up a third of the immense space.

Keeping the pressure off of them would be rough — but far easier with Kenva’s help. Her Shattering Rain filled the dome in a constant deluge as she fired as fast as she was able.

Thank the gods that she’d gotten the skill evolution that she had. Alone, it would have been impossible to protect everyone — especially now that the grubs were beginning to mutate. Another sign of the tyrant's influence. Such forced growth was unnatural — but far from enough to provide them with a challenge.

Cleaving through the massed beasts, Kaius took in the full state of their situation. The survivors had been battered — he could see wounded aplenty in the centre of the mob. Thankfully, they were rallying. He’d taken some of the pressure off, but he could do more.

Checking the tunnels that the grubs were still spilling in from, Kaius saw the creatures piling into masses of writhing flesh. He grinned — Zone of Discombobulation had worked. Trapped in its confines, the grubs fell to utter confusion, wriggling senselessly as their acid jaws ripped into the flesh of anything that drew too close.

He still had five more casts of the spell. Not enough to fully cover the defenders, but enough to take the pressure off. Reaching for Eirnith, he willed the magic to exclude the fighters on the line. Five domes of shimmering magic fell upon the grubs, holding them fast. He outlevelled them to the extreme — simple disorientation empowered to the point it rendered them insensate. Each cast was nearly eighty strides wide, capturing hundreds of the creatures.

Seeing their enemy frozen and scattered, the defenders tore into them with a chorus of roars on their lips— a sight that made Kaius grin. Good, they still had their fighting spirit.

He turned his attention back to more pressing matters.

“How far are you? The grubs pressed these folk hard — the sooner Ianmus can get to the most injured, the better.”

“Seconds. The Castellan’s been opening the way.”

Before Kaius could even reply, a rumbling grind resounded from a tunnel to his left, halfway between the encroaching beasts and the clustered survivors.

It was followed by a low roar as an armoured titan sprinted into the room. Porkchop’s Dominance of Claw rocked the larvae, pulling the attention of almost every single beast within. Ianmus was atop his back — his staff already shining bright with condensed solar mana.

Porkchop summoned his Ethereal Phalanx. The puppeted shieldwall charged, ripping straight through the carpet of beasts and leaving an open corridor in their wake.

Their entrance secured, Ianmus leapt to the floor. He slammed his staff down with a focused frown on his face.

A wall of sunlight burst into existence, stretching across most of the dome. The spell looked similar to the one Kaius had seen the mage use to help Kenva take down the beast that had harassed Porkchop on the first day of the siege. Spread so thin, it felt weak — but so were their enemies.

Radiance washed over the grubs in a wave. Kaius laughed as the wall of light raced straight for him, watching the shimmering heat consume grubs in their thousands.

He was next.

Heat prickled at his skin. It hurt, a little — like he’d shoved his hand in scalding water.

Once it passed, Kaius only saw smouldering bodies. He turned, just in time to see the spell flicker out of existence a few strides before it hit Kenva and the edge of the defenders.

Four fifths of the beasts gone, just like that. The sight of it made the heat in his blood swell — thank the gods’ for mages.

“I’m going to go check the wounded!” Ianmus called, already running for the crowd that had pressed itself close. Silver mana flashed through one of the geometric circles atop his staff as he moved.

Already knowing what he would find, Kaius turned his attention to the tunnels that the grubs were using to enter the dome. Ghostly lilies filled both of them utterly. The grubs had no hope — pressed flat by Ianmus’s spell, they may as well have been fish in a barrel. Even with more of them constantly falling from the tunnels in the ceiling, they were captured immediately, steadily piling higher.

The sight of it eased the tension in his heart. Kenva was already mopping up the remnants that had escaped Ianmus’s burning wall, now all that was left was busy work.

“I’ll watch the left, you take the right? I figure we may as well force feed some of these folks some levels,” Kaius said, eying the defenders. With most of the grubs dead or disabled, he could see them watching him. They looked exhausted, but they’d just have to manage.

Every level they gained now could be the one that kept them alive to the very end of the siege.

Porkchop let out a grunt, “No difference to me.”

Kaius nodded. Turning to face the far off crowd, he wracked his brain for the right words to encourage the crowd to kill the frozen grubs. Few enough of them were true fighters, most were simply men and women who’d picked up arms when there was no other choice.

Somehow he doubted that telling them there was enough for everyone was the right tact.

A/N: been getting stuck into writing b5. Took a little bit of a different route with the recap this time around, it's set in a short trip to Dawntown a little bit before the meat of b5. Will likely continue to do similar in the future, or use them as an opportunity to show outside perspectives via characters like Ekum and others. B5 proper has been good fun as well, can't wait for y'all to see it haha

2026-02-09 21:34:39 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Interlude 29: Hold the Line

A/N: 2 of 2 chapters, go check the previous one if you haven't yet

A thousand different things vied for Niles’ attention, each one promising to be the deciding factor of his survival.

His arms burned, undertrained and weak. Every breath sent the tip of his sword wavering through the air as he struggled to maintain his ready stance. Screams washed over him in a constant deluge. Fury, panic, aggression, agony, and everything else.

If it was just exhaustion and noise, it would have been manageable. The world was not so kind. Mana surged in an endless tide, washing out his senses in a burst of meaningless colours and felt texture. The stinging heat of fire, the heavy pressure of stone, the cold chill of wind, and the sharp edge of metal: all of them were buried under the constant itching tang of acid, and another, darker element that he only half recognised. That last one was the most distracting. It seemed drawn to him, a feather-light touch against his skin as it clung to him like a lover — and left shudders of revulsion in its wake.

It felt like being buried, and memories he’d long since tried to banish.

The battle raged on, caring little for the overwhelming tide he’d been caught in. They’d been backed into one edge of the dome, a battle-line of fighters surrounding a panic mob of animals. It wasn’t just the delvers — anyone with a weapon, or any form of capability at all was hacking at the creatures.

Even him. He was far from the front, but he still stood with his blade ready. He knew how to use it, and that was enough.

It was like trying to fight the tides. The grubs crept forwards endlessly, spilling from two adjacent tunnels they had breached.

Niles forced himself to take a breath, sinking deeper into the icy chill of his Bloodsong. It pushed away the distractions, freezing them over so he could focus on what would actually keep him alive.

The grubs were numerous, but they were weak. They could hold on until help came.

Unbidden, he thought of the battle above — what if they were the last? He’d felt the faint shudders that rocked the ruins every now and then. The devastation would have to be monumental to reach so deep.

Had Deadacre been overrun? Were they the last bastion, to be slowly consumed while trapped between the ancient bones of the long dead?

Mana swirled closer to his skin, needling him as if it sought to seep in through his pores.

Ahead of him, a man let out a scream of pain as a grub leapt up and sank its acidic jaws into his leg. Ripping the creature free, the man’s hammer came down in a rough blow, splattering the beast.

The sudden violence of it shocked Niles from his thoughts. He shook himself — now wasn’t the time for panic. He couldn’t change fate, all he could do was stay calm. It was the only thing that would widen his path to survival.

Leaning deeper into the cold, he focused on his surroundings. The man who’d been bitten was far from the front lines. A clear reminder that he couldn’t relax.

Niles went back to roving. If the flood of larva only had numbers on their side, he wouldn’t have been so worried. They were slow, ungainly, and had soft bodies. Even he had managed to kill one — and had won an Honour for the privilege. Their bites might have been dangerous things full of acid, but with enough care, they could have managed.

As long as they weren’t a simple prelude to the full force of the Tyrant’s army, at least.

It was their Skills that made them so dangerous. The golden ceratin larvae had some way of hiding themselves. It made people's eyes slide over them like they weren’t even there.

Even if it wasn’t inviolate, and sensory skills could punch through their cloaking, that mattered little when there were thousands of the bastards. Niles doubted even a Silver would be able to watch every single one of the grubs at all times.

They kept slipping through the lines. Crawling closer and closer, until finally all you felt was the burn of acid and the crushing vice grip of their jaws.

He’d had too many close calls already. The vicious beasts were wily — some of them dove deep into their midst, striking well past the initial defenders' reach. If just one slipped past his notice… He didn’t have the health to shrug off that sort of wound, not without a Class.

The jolt of fear deepened his chill. Niles steadied his blade, sweeping his eyes over his surroundings for what felt like the thousandth time. It wasn’t perfect, but Sure-footed Scout could cut through their concealment. He’d picked the Legacy Skill for a reason — every bladesman needed sure footing and sharp eyes.

Grey stone and booted feet waited for him, as well as a flash of golden yellow a few strides away. Sighing in relief, Niles checked behind him.

Nothing there either. He didn’t let himself relax. Checking again, Niles slowed his pace — scrutinising every handspan. He’d caught one like that before. It was much, much easier to break through their skill with focused attention.

Frowning, he took in every detail he could. The odd smoothness of the floor, the shining brass buckles of the new boots that the man in front of him was wearing, the sizzling drip of acid from chitenous jaws sending smoke wafting to the ceiling right next to said boots.

Niles blinked.

“By your feet!” he cried, lunging forwards into a low thrust.

The man in front of him twisted, his frown twisting his thick, black mustache. Realisation hit him. He jumped back, cursing as he swiped at the grub with his studded club.

Niles felt the faintest pop of resistance, the tip of his sword ramming straight through the grubs' soft body. It was splattered a moment later.

“Thanks, kid.” The man said, a half confident grin on his face. There was a tension in his eyes.

Niles knew the smile was an act — the man had muscle, but he was dressed in linens. A labourer, not a warrior.

Ice flooded through his veins, stiffening Niles’ spine: his bloodsong, reminding him that he couldn’t slack. Niles nodded, and went back to searching.

With every breath, he could almost taste that strange mana in the air. It seemed drawn to him, trailing behind his every movement. It was as if it possessed a will of its own, hounding him with an obsession that Niles couldn’t understand.

He pushed the thought away. The cloying mana could wait.

Seeing his surroundings were clear, even after triple checking, Niles went back to watching the frontline of delvers warily.

They were fighting hard, wading in and out of the massed carpet of larva. Thankfully, the creatures moved slowly. Even with some slipping by, the worst of them was being held back. The ground was covered with a sticky sheen of ichor, broken only by splashes of bright red. They were holding.

For now.

Before he even got a chance to breath, Niles heard a buzz. The sound cut him to the soul. It was quiet, but he could hear it even over the constant clamour that filled the dome.

It was new.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped his blade. Was he right? Had the rest of the army finally made it through the armoured doors?

Deep in the breached tunnels, Niles caught a glimpse of shapes rising out of the tide of golden flesh. Stunted wings carried the weight of twisted grey carapace and sickly yellow flesh. More larvae — no, pupae — were changing. Their backs bulged, distending grotesquely before new life tore itself free from the old.

There weren’t many in comparison to the maggots, but the sight of them still nearly shook Niles from the chill of his bloodsong. They were already stretched thin, and now they had to deal with flying ones?

Deformed or not, he knew in his bones that these ones would be tougher too. Gods, he wished he’d had the chance to pick up Identify already. It was part of the kit he’d picked from the Guild’s List, but he hadn’t had the time!

A bearded ranger on the front line answered his unspoken question.

“Malformed Ceratin Drone, forty-five to sixty!” the man roared.

Niles’ heart leapt in his throat. Gods’ scorn, most of their defenders were only low Bronze — some of the new monstrosities would be stronger than them.

Whipping his head around, Niles desperately searched for a solution, anything he could do to keep himself safe. He could fall back, further into the crowd of those who would be useless in a fight.

The thought of being just another helpless body snapped like a bullwhip. He eyed the far off ceiling. There was far too much open air, the drones might slip right over their guards. Better he stay here, at the edge of the fighters. They, at least, would be better at coming to his aid. Besides, he was deep in the lines, far away from the bulk of the fighting.

They could still flee if they had to. It was risky, but the tunnels behind them went deep. They could lift the blast doors and make an escape. Hells, there was already a delver by the controls.

That would only happen if their defense utterly collapsed. There was no telling what else lurked outside those steel doors. For all they knew, these grubs were only the threats that had been able to break through the walls. There could be more out there, lurking in wait.

The malformed drones struck before he could think of anything else. Racing forwards in twos and threes, their wings beat a clarion call. Rangers fired at the new threat, nearly two dozen arrows burning with a variety of skills that lit up the dome in a kaleidoscope of colours.

Jerking in a chaotic dance, the flying ceratin dodged what they could. Four fell, writhing as arrow shafts jutted from their flesh. Most flew on, narrowly dodging the delvers’ fire.

One of the fallen stilled as a delver buried an arrow in its eye. Relief washed over Niles, carrying away some of the tension. Good, they could still die.

The rest of the malformed drones surged on — racing towards the front. Scintillating light burst from their wings, washed out golden motes falling to the ground as they suddenly accelerated. Whatever skill they had used was potent — their forms blurred as he struggled to track them.

Roars echoed from the delvers guarding them. The gathered squads split their focus between beating away the larvae and fending off the latest threat. Niles could see them struggling to keep up. The malformed drones had more than swiftness on their side. Globs of acid sprayed from the mouths of twisted bugs, a vomitous attack that consumed everything it touched.

A delver screamed, clawing at the smoking chain that covered her arm. Her plight made Niles’ heart skip a beat, but to his surprise she didn’t run. Her wound boiled as acid and health warred. Her team acted quickly. Behind the wounded delver, a man in light robes dashed forwards — his hands glowing with the radiant power of life mana.

Panting heavily, the delver tightened her grip on her warhammer as its head shone a pale blue.

She struck.

The malformed drone zipped away — only to be yanked back into the path of her strike. Chitin crunched, the hammer pulverising the beast’s wing before it crashed into its side. The blow sent the creature sailing.

Right towards Niles, a steady stream of ichor falling from the crater in its flesh.

He froze, staring at the approaching beast in horror. It was wounded, but alive, and he could see its glistening thorax bulging like it did when it had sprayed the delver with acid.

All thought left him, banished by the surge of winter clarity that burst within him. Acting on instinct alone, Niles yanked on the mana around him — the very same affinity that had weighed on him for hours. He didn’t know what he was doing, only that it felt like the mana was urging him, guiding his actions.

The energy surged in. It was so different from the mana practice he’d had before. It didn’t burn, like the raw mana he had imbued into his eyes when learning the component skills for Sure-footed Scout. It didn’t buck against him like most affinities did when he’d tried his hand at manipulation skills. It flooded him eagerly, and everything it touched withered under the frozen touch of the grave. It was a millstone, grinding at his being until only ancient dust remained. It came with an overwhelming sense of finality: an endless rest, forever undisturbed.

It was so painful — a creeping death that tore at him from within.

Yet he didn’t stop. There was no time. Not even to think.

He wasn’t sure if it was him, or the strange connection he felt to the mana, but he guided the energy towards his blade as he moved into a high guard.

Before he could blink, the malformed drone was right in front of him. He struck, flowing through a basic high-cleave with everything he had. It was automatic, an unflourished strike in the Vesryn style he’d practiced thousands of times.

Flooded with an affinity that seemed intent on killing him, Niles cut deep into the shattered side of the ceratin. His blade seemed to drink from the creature's very life as it cleaved into its twisted body.

Slamming to the ground, the creature writhed as its skin flaked and its carapace grew brittle. Before it could fully expire, a studded club slammed into it.

Niles staggered back as the man he’d saved earlier hammered the creature again and again.

Something within him was wrong. Whatever he’d done had left its mark — a creeping chill that was building in his very marrow. He grit his teeth, fighting against the pain. Whatever it was, he would manage — he just had to survive right now. Better he be crippled than end up dead.

“You okay?” The man asked, giving him a concerned look.

Niles gave him a shaky nod. “Think so.”

Two blaring system notifications stole his attention before he could say anything else.

*Ding! General Skill Available! Would you like to learn: Sepulchre Attunement (Unique)?*

*Ding! General Skill Available! Would you like to learn: Gravestrike (Rare)?*

2026-02-08 22:26:58 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 511: Mobility Glyph

A/N: 1 of 2 chapters

Responding to his will, the system presented him with the options for his next skill evolution.

Infused Glyph of Felmenia:

Level 201:

Class Skill - Tier II

Affinity: Arcane, Martial

Type: Glyph-binding, Runic, Spellcasting

Selection Available!

Heroic

The ‘Glyph of Ceaseless Advance,’ Felmenia is valued by those who strike with the ephemeral power of a hurricane, and range far in search of battle. An Infused Variant of Aelina, Felmenia utilises spell-hymns with an offensive bent, or tactical utility. Irrevocably tied to Aelina, it is inscribed on the feet — a grounding root to support their bearer’s ferocity.

Tier I:

This skill allows the user to inscribe combat-focused Vesryn translocation, transformation, and mobility spell-hymns to be activated at will, limited only by the availability of mana to reserve into the working, and sufficient space on the body. Creates a hymnbook on the user's status if one is not already present. Multiples of the same glyph can cast hymns inscribed on their counterpart.

Tier II:

A linked node is added to the calfs, capable of supporting second tier spell-hymns.

Each level moderately increases the power, range, and area of effect of spell-hymns cast through the glyph.

Each level slightly decreases the physical size of inscribed spell-hymns.

Every 100 levels the user may learn another runic hymn of the relevant tier to add to their hymnbook.

Spell-hymns Known:

Tier I:

Yellia’s Slipstep - 80 mana

Trusant’s Expedient Shunt - 100 mana

Tier II:

Selection Available!

….

Infused Glyph of Aelina:

Level 201

Class Skill - Tier II

Affinity: Arcane, Martial

Type: Glyph-binding, Runic, Spellcasting

Selection Available!

Heroic

The ‘Glyph of Transference’, Aelina is the source of the Runeblade’s legendary ability to appear as soon as they are called upon. Its hymns are at once the logistical backbone of Vesryn, and a source of unrivaled battlefield mobility. Fleeting and swift, it is bound to the feet, where the centring touch of the earth can remind initiates that the present is ever fleeting — and time is not a resource to be squandered.

Tier I:

This skill allows the user to inscribe Vesryn translocation and mobility spell-hymns to be activated at will, limited only by the availability of mana to reserve into the working, and sufficient space on the body. Creates a hymnbook on the user's status if one is not already present. Multiples of the same glyph can cast hymns inscribed on their counterpart.

Tier II:

A linked node stretches up the shin, capable of supporting second tier spells.

Each level moderately increases the power, range, and area of effect of spell-hymns cast through the glyph.

Each level slightly decreases the physical size of inscribed spell-hymns.

Every 100 levels the user may learn another runic hymn of the relevant tier to add to their hymnbook.

Spell-hymns Known:

Tier I:

Yellia’s Slipstep - 80 mana

Trusant’s Expedient Shunt - 100 mana

Tier II:

Selection Available!

Kaius gnawed on his lip as he poured over the two variants. It was a tough call.

Unlike Drakthar, neither option would lead to his already chosen spells being changed — something he appreciated. Both Slipstep and Shunt were far too useful to risk on a gamble.

He looked at the first option, Felmenia. It would be a change — a more direct focus on combat application. On many levels, that appealed — his spells were to keep him alive, not for pure utility.

That said, Aelina had fit him just fine up until now. Did he really need more methods to inflict harm on his enemies? He already had an entire glyph devoted solely to that, and plenty of sword skills besides.

Focusing on the wording, he found himself drifting to something in the skills epigraph. Tactical utility. That implied something more, some sort of capability that extended beyond the direct exchange of blows.

Tempting, but he wanted to talk to his team first.

Kaius blinked away his notifications, focusing on his team. They’d finished with their own evaluations.

Seeing no reason for them to stand around, he nodded towards a tunnel close to them. Its brick floor was covered in a glistening slime — the detritus of the newborn larvae that had crawled down its path only minutes before.

“Let’s move people, we can talk on the way.”

Nodding, they set off at a run. They found the grubs quickly. Rather than divert their path, Kaius led them straight through the tide, crushing as many of the creatures as he could. They would lead them straight to the point they were flooding the ruins, and the more they killed now meant less to hunt down later.

“Standout options first — we all know what we need well enough now to dismiss the useless ones without handholding. Porkchop?”

“Two variations of Bulwark’s Challenge — The Dominance of Claw or The Invitation of Steel. The former is largely similar to my current skill, it pulls aggression, and the second tier effect makes it daze and weaken my enemies. The latter is single target, stronger, and can prevent the use of skills.”

Both sounded like good options, but Kaius was almost certain of which one his brother would pick. The entire point of his current skill was to prevent them from being overwhelmed when they were vastly outnumbered.

“You’re picking the first one, I assume?”

Porkchop nodded, making Kaius smile. He decided to go next — he still had to pick his spells for either option.

“Mine’s a bit of a similar choice — Keep Aelina and pick a second tier spell, or move to Felmenia. It’s specifically more combat focused, though it mentions tactical utility, which is making me lean towards it.”

“You sure?” Kenva asked. “Aelina’s worked well so far, do you want to risk it?”

“I think so. It’s mostly for battle anyway, and neither option will adjust my current spells. I’m hopeful that the inclusion of more utility will be able to broaden my options, rather than limit them.”

Ianmus nodded in agreement from the centre of their formation. “Understanable. Regardless, you should keep an eye out for spatial spells. If you accumulate them, you’ll be more likely to get an option focused on it in the future. Even if they tend towards high mana expense, they’re one of the most potent mobility affinities for a reason.”

That was something he’d already planned on. Even if Slipstep wasn’t gamechanging, he’d never forgotten that it was the sole reason they’d been able to escape from Old Yon’s dungeon.

Beyond that, only a fool would avoid maximising their chances to bloody teleport.

Putting the thought aside, Kaius focused on Ianmus. “What about you?”

“Only one real option — Witching Hour. It’s a lunar keyseal focused on afflictions and battlefield control. The other was a utility seal that strengthened my other magic — I'd rather have the added capability. The first tier spells are a hodgepodge mix — Whispered Lullaby was the main standout. It’ll put a target to sleep, and it's even more effective if the target isn’t trying to resist. Thought it’d be good for throwing creatures off, or helping with watch rotations.”

The mage’s reasoning was sound — and Lullaby did sound useful. Not just for the reasons Ianmus mentioned, either. If they were trying to avoid getting into a fight, it was perfect. Plus, they needed more non lethal options to deal with threats.

“And the second tier spell?” Kenva asked.

Ianmus paused for a moment. “There’s a few, but I'm torn between Sermon of Iniq and Curse of the Broken.”

“They both sound…pleasant. What’s the first do?”

“The Sermon will make a group of targets hearwhispered ‘forbidden secrets’ — supposed to drive them to incapacitating madness temporarily. Or permanently, if they’re too weak. The Curse is single target, worsening all of their current wounds.”

Kaius mulled it over. Curse of the Broken sounded potent — combined with the right assault, it could potentially lead to instant death. However, another method of controlling their opponents when outnumbered sounded more appealing.

“I like the sermon — we only really have a few ways of dealing with crowds at the moment, and Starfall isn’t always suitable.”

“I was leaning towards it for the same reason.” Ianmus replied, before nodding to Kenva. “Lucky last.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “It’s fine — I had one clear standout. Leaf on the Wind. It lets me transform into a gust of leaves. Vertical mobility, speed, and I'll be able to get through some pretty tight gaps. That said, I'll be more vulnerable to certain attacks.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kaius gave her a look of surprise. Skills like that were supposed to be rare, even in the second tier — though he supposed that she did have a Heroic class now.

As they ran, Kaius directed them over to a side tunnel — bringing them away from the tide of grubs that they had been trampling. Selecting their skills would only leave them unconscious for a minute or two, but he didn’t intend on spending that time being a golden maggot's lunch.

“Are you going to tell me what spells you got offered now, or are you going to keep me in suspense?” Ianmus asked, grinning at him

Kaius laughed, “Yeah, yeah. Give me a moment.”

Flicking to his skill options, Kaius focused on Infused Glyph of Felmenia.

**Ding! Are you sure you would like to evolve Latent Glyph of Aelina to Infused Glyph of Felmenia? This choice is permanent and irrevocable!**

Yes.

Making his choice, more words spilled across his vision as the System presented him with his spell options.

Liluin’s Maneuver:

Runic Hymn - Tier II (Mobility)

Affinity: Gale

Glyph: Felmenia

3000 Mana

Selection Available!

This Hymn imbues the user and all allies within fifty strides with windborn grace, vastly increasing speed and agility for up to an hour. Concentration is required to maintain this effect.

…

Voyager’s Spike:

Runic Hymn - Tier II (Mobility)

Affinity: Metal, Magnetism

Glyph: Felmenia

700 Mana

Selection Available!

This Hymn fires a penetrating spike as the user kicks. After impact, the user can rapidly pull themselves towards a spike at will when within a quarter league. While moving, a repulsive force deflects metallic objects away from the user. Spikes persist for half an hour.

…

Fractured Warp:

Runic Hymn - Tier II (Translocation)

Affinity: Spatial

Glyph: Felmenia

1500 Mana

Selection Available!

This Hymn creates an unstable fold in space, transporting the user instantly to a visible point within fifty longstrides. Spatial ripples erupt at the arrival point, interfering with spatial magic, as well as damaging the user and anything else within close proximity.

…

Kelrinor’s Open:

Runic Hymn - Tier II (Transformation)

Affinity: Destruction

Glyph: Felmenia

1500 Mana

Selection Available!

This Hymn infuses a cube of space up to five by five strides with destructive energy over a short period of time, allowing the user access through almost any impinging obstacle.

Kaius whipped to one of the available options.

Well, that made his choice easy.

2026-02-08 22:25:46 +0000 UTC View Post

B5 Chapter 510: Unwanted Gold, Finale

Black carapace lay shattered and broken, the final royal guard reduced to a lowly wretch. Ichor weeped from its wounds, as its health desperately tried to recover the damage. Two of its legs had been torn free, and its right scythe had been snapped in two.

It still fought with single minded focus, giving its very life to take them down.

A doomed endeavour — with him and Porkchop working together, a high Silver beast had no hope. It lacked the size and physicality of the nightscale, and its greatest strength — speed — was neutered when they pincered it at every turn.

It was still strong, and he and Porkchop bore their scars from the battle.

His armour was ragged, a great rent torn in its front and back from the impalement he’d withstood to deal the guard’s twin a lethal blow. Lesser cuts dotted the arms and sides, a coat of drying blood the only remnants of the wounds that had once sat beneath them. Every bit of him dripped in sweat, and his stamina was far lower than it normally would be after such a short battle.

At four-hundred stamina a second, using the full might of Hellblade Investiture was a hungry thing, but well worth it.

Porkchop had resummoned his orichalchum heavy plate multiple times at this point. It had been far too risky for his brother to do so earlier. Even if it only took a few seconds, that was a massive swathe of time in a battle like this.

Even fresh, the plate was slick with Porkchop’s blood. His healing might have been even swifter than Kaius’s, but the bone deep cuts that had stretched up his back took time to heal.

“Won’t be long now,” Porkchop growled, facing down the creature.

Kaius slowly edged to the right, forcing the beast to flick between them as it chose which was the greater threat.

His brother wasn’t wrong. Another clash, maybe two, then they could help their backline with the queen.

That monstrosity had proven annoyingly persistent. Even with Ianmus and Kenva constantly unloading their strongest attacks, it withstood them stubbornly. Not once had it halted its production of its young, a constant tide that crept towards the ruin below.

Every look at that carpet of yellow grubs made his stomach knot. They needed to finish this quickly.

The royal guard made its decision. Leaping high, it pounced towards Porkchop, both scythes raised high for a stab. The blades sparked, layered with the skills that let the beast so easily punch through their defences.

Porkchop roared, lunging forwards to meet it. The ground rumbled beneath his feet, and an ethereal shield line appeared in front of him — a vanguard for his assault.

Knowing he would only have a narrow opening, Kaius dashed in from the side.

Shields slammed into the royal guard, lowered spears driving deep into its stomach. Porkchop tackled it a moment later, chitin crunching as spikes rose from the ground. They cracked against its armour, drawing out a pained hiss.

Yet the guard’s blades still landed home. Its unbroken blade punched deep into Porkchop’s shoulder, grinding through a gap between plates. Lacking a fine point to make purchase, its broken blade deflected in a shower of sparks.

It descended into a brutal brawl, Porkchop wailing on the creature with heavy, raking strikes of his claws while the royal guard levered at the blade in his body, and used its broken one to slash at every bit of exposed flesh it could.

Kaius grit his teeth, fury rising. Reaching for his Stormlash, light lit up the chamber, revealing the deep red of its brick. Leashed to his will, lightning smote the creature again and again — never extending through the guard’s blade to scour his brother.

Hacking at the creature with his free hand, Kaius attacked its flank — and made his way to its head. It was stunned — an opportunity he couldn’t miss. Whirling his blade overhead, A Father’s Gift burned bright red as his stamina started to drop.

Cleaving into its head, a shudder ran up his arms as chitin splintered. Ichor sprayed, misting through the grating of his helm to splatter against his face.

The royal guard shuddered, falling still — though still too stubborn to accept it was already dead.

Roaring in victory, Porkchop surrounded one paw with a jagged lump of orichalcum — his Jadecrash, changed by Orichalcum Infusion.

The blow came down, splattered the creature's head with a crunch of finality.

*Ding! You have slain Golden Ceratin Royal Guard - Level 290 Obsidian Blade! Experience Gained! Increased Experience for slaying a foe of significantly higher level!*

*Ding! Runeblade Hellion has grown from level 237 > 239!*

*+6 Int; +5 Con, Str & Will; +2 Vit & Dex; +1 Free - from Class & Racial Traits!*

Neither of them wasted time celebrating.

Turning on his heel, Kaius dashed towards the queen as Porkchop extricated himself from the blade stuck in his shoulder.

The ceratin queen was pockmarked, its golden flesh pitted with weeping holes. Some were simple caverns, leaking a slow tide of brown-yellow fluid. Others were blackened and cauterised. All writhed, flesh pulsing as it grew and recovered at a visible rate.

The queen's abdomen pulsed, ejecting another wave of young. Kaius ignored the newborns, thrusting his hand towards the queen's oversized and bulbous head. The quicker they could end this fight, the better — and it couldn’t heal if it had spikes in its wounds. Four Hateful Nails snapped out in quick succession.

Kaius watched them rocket towards the creature with hungry anticipation — one that fell as thick plates of glittering stone snapped into existence in the path of each of the projectiles.

His spells shattered the stones utterly, stone shrapnel showering the chamber — but the defence worked. Each and every one of his nails deflected, spinning wildly away as they unfurled into twisted metal brambles.

“Don’t bother! The closer you get to its head, the better it is at blocking. It’s tougher than it looks, too” Kenva yelled, drawing an arrow to her cheek as a howling wind surrounded the projectile.

A damn shame — far easier if they could have just ripped off its head. He supposed his friends would have already done that if it was possible. Continuing his advance, he arrived by the creature's side at the same time as Porkchop.

As one, they unleashed on its soft looking flesh.

Ramming his blade forward, Kaius watched on in shock as the golden skin of the queen distended under the point of his sword. Even with Kenva’s warning, it was more than he expected. Stretched to its limit, his blade popped through the creature’s skin as a ripping sensation resonated up through his arm.

Its flesh was unforgiving, a thickened mass that fought him for every handspan. Hells, it was like trying to cut through boiled leather with a butter knife!

No matter, they’d get it done. Tough as it was, he’d yet to see the queen actually fight back — a living punching bag wouldn’t best them.

“Anything to look out for?” he called out.

“Nope! Ianmus is just waiting for his Halo to be ready! We’ve got a plan to take out its head.” Kenva replied, still charging her shot.

Kaius nodded, and continued his work. Flowing into a cut, he flickered Hellblade Investiture at full power, tearing inwards. Mana rushed into his blade, rapid pops ejecting spray after spray of pulped flesh. Its skin might have been tough, but Mystic Rend worked hell on its interior.

Still, neither he, nor Porkchop, were making much progress. The queen had specialised to an unbelievable degree — toughened to the extreme. Sure, she was utterly helpless without her guards, but it was still impressive.

“Ready!” Ianmus called out.

Kaius and Porkchop pulled back, making distance.

“Unload at its head!” Kenva cried, loosing her arrow.

The screaming projectile careened forward — a lethal strike aimed straight at the creatures eye. A shudder ran through the queen as mana flashed, brighter than Kaius had seen before.

All at once, dozens of stone disks appeared, hovering in the air. They were stacked, and aligned perfectly with Kenva's shot. One by one they shattered, but Kaius could already tell the defence would hold.

Kenva wasn’t done — her arms blurred, arrow after arrow firing as fast as she could manage. Most were mundane, but some burst mid air — turning into a cone of needles that shot for the creature.

More and more stones snapped into existence — but they were slow. Some appeared off centre, arrows glancing off them to slap off the distended plates that covered the creature's torso.

Kaius realised with a start what they were doing. After fighting against the creature for so long, they must have gotten a handle on how many plates it could reliably summon and control. Overwhelm it, and they’d have an opening to hit it with a Halo.

Nail after Nail rocketed from his hands, burning embers of mana flowing from his glyph in a wave.

The queen screeched, forced to summon even more stone to defend itself. It was holding. Just.

Ianmus added to the assault, snapping off sharp bolts of solar magic from his keyseal.

Attacks started to land, the queen twitching as its stunted legs heaved at the ground. Stone flowed beneath it — slowly dragging it towards one of the tunnels. It was trying to flee!

Before it got further than a stride, Ianmus’s Halo roared out from the depths of the golden seal atop his staff. It crackled, drifting across the chamber.

The queen watched it come — but it couldn’t do anything. Stop defending from the rest of their assault, and it would die just as certainly.

Its nerve broke, a disk of stone popping in front of the Halo. Its defence came far too late. The spell was within a longstride of its head — far smaller than its area of effect.

A wave of scorched air rushed over Kaius’s face as the spell expanded into a globe of roiling plasma, consuming the queen.

It slumped a moment later, its head a smoking ruin.

*Ding! You have slain Golden Ceratin Queen - Level 312 Mother to the Kingdom! Experience Gained! Increased Experience for slaying a foe of significantly higher level!*

*Ding! Runeblade Hellion has grown from level 239 > 241!*

*+6 Int; +5 Con, Str & Will; +2 Vit & Dex; +1 Free - from Class & Racial Traits!*

*Ding! Class Skill available for selection!*

*Ding! Class Skill Notifications Consolidated!*

* Infused Glyph of Drakthar has reached level 235 > 256!*

…

*Hellblade Investiture has reached level 205 > 217*

…

*Latent Glyph of Vyrthane has reached level 195 > 200*

…

*Latent Glyph of Eirnith has reached level 192 > 200*

…

*Mercurial Reversal has reached level 176 > 189*

…

*Runeblade Hymnfocus has reached level 135 > 143*

…

*Latent Glyph of Muthryn, Throat of VOS has reached level 120 > 145*

*General Skill Notifications Consolidated!*

…

*Rapid Adaptation has reached level 212 > 232!*

…

*Liturgical Bladeform: Primus Ordo has reached level 234 > 267!*

…

*Sergeant’s Insight has reached level 221 > 238!*

…

*Tempered By Dissonance has reached level 211 > 227!*

…

*Truesight has reached level 220 > 232!*

…

*Tonal Weaving has reached level 213 > 224!*

…

*Spellblade’s Harmonic Control has reached level 219 > 234!*

…

*Greater Regeneration has reached level 223 > 250!*

…

*Moment of Flow has reached level 208 > 231!*

…

*Brotherhood of Ichor and Animus has reached level 208 > 221!*

Another skill — another step closer to the peak. That was good; they’d have need of that strength. His skills had grown significantly as well. They’d barely had a moment to rest in the last week since he’d last checked his skills, and that had left its mark.

“Check your available skills quickly,” he said, as he walked over to where Ianmus and Kenva were standing. Summoning a rag from his ring, he wiped off his blade, before sheathing it.

“Won’t that slow us down?” Porkchop said, eying the procession of grubs that was trailing out of the room.

“The added strength will be worth it, especially if we get evolutions that can help us clear the grubs faster,” Kaius replied. “I’ll check if they’re still holding now.”

His friends nodded, eyes going glassy as they checked their notifications.

Before he brought up his own, he pulled out the disk the Castellan had brought him.

“Castellan, update me,” he said, threading some mana into the disk.

“My lord, the civilians are holding. There were some initial loses, but they’ve formed battle lines. So far, there have been casualties, but few deaths, though I fear it is only a matter of time. The grubs have a stealth skill, as their numbers grow so will the injuries. I still need another thirty minutes to complete my preparations to act as need be, but I am unsure if they will last that long.”

Kaius hissed, they’d need to be quick, but another skill evolution truly could be pivotal.

“We’ll be there soon,” Kaius replied, before he cut the connection.

He pulled up his options, scanning them as fast as he could — hopefully an improved Aelina would have some way of getting them there faster.

2026-02-05 23:03:39 +0000 UTC View Post

B5 Chapter 509: Unwanted Gold, pt. 6

Deep beneath the earth, Kaius stood in a chamber full of ghostly lilies and faced down his opponent.

An armored knight, the mantis watched Kaius, waiting for the slightest hint of an opening. It may have been an insectile beast, but there was a shrewd cunning hiding behind its glistening black eyes. A cold malevolence that was born to fight and die for its queen.

Kaius held his blade in a high ready, melded crystal and steel brandished as a lethal threat.

Another of Kenva’s explosive arrows ripped past them, sinking deep into the hive queen's pulsing abdomen. The creature shuddered. Under constant assault, great weeping wounds had opened on its vulnerable body. Some it managed to block with sudden shields of stone, but it was clearly out of its depth. Its entire being was focused on the production of its young, not combat.

It was still tougher than anything. Most of its stats had to be in Vitality and Constitution — he’d never seen something withstand Ianmus and Kenva’s attacks so easily. It’s like its flesh was made of stone, and each and every one of its wounds writhed, visibly shrinking as the beast’s prodigious regeneration went to work.

Instincts won over the royal guard. Stone erupted beneath the creature's feet, launching it into motion as it charged at him. The lilies summoned by Ianmus’s spell slowed the beast — just. Regardless, Kaius would take every advantage he could get.

He wasn’t fooled — his backline was the true target of its advance.

Sheltered by the pillars at the end of the room, Ianmus and Kenva were too much of a threat to their precious matriarch.

Kaius swung his blade, baiting the one-armed royal guard's feint.

At the last possible moment, it lurched to the side — maintaining its top speed in a total rejection of momentum as stamina pulsed through its body. Some sort of Skill.

It would have worked on most, but Kaius had his own methods. A Shunt exploded, flattening ghostly lilies as he shot to the side.

The creature lurched again. He detonated another shunt, staying right in its face. A slash of A Father’s Gift forced it back, drawing a shrill screech of frustration from its throat.

Good, the sooner it realised that it couldn’t get past him without killing him, the better. He tired of the song and dance — far better they met blade to blade. All he needed was an opening. He’d like to see it survive a VOS-backed Nail to the torso.

If the circumstances weren’t so dire, Kaius would have almost felt a degree of respect for the creature — for the nature of its loyalty. With its black armour, there was certainly a regalness to it.

It had been far too long since he’d dueled with his life on the line. It brought him back to his earliest days in the depths, before he’d met Porkchop. Every encounter had made his heart shudder and pound as he felt the chill touch of death upon him.

Even missing an arm, the royal guard was a worthy foe.

They charged in unison. Bloody energy flooded Kaius’s blade as he slammed stamina into Hellblade Investiture. The cost was immense, but the strength it brought was just as devastating.

Sweeping diagonally from high to low, the royal guard’s scythe cut for his shoulder — an attempt at total bisection. Lilies leapt towards the strike, slowing the blow as stalk after stalk were severed. Kaius read the flows of the movement as visible lines. Ianmus’s spell helped massively, fighting the creature at every turn. Eirnith glowed on his feet as he cast Slip Step.

He warped, ducking under the strike — right inside its guard.

A faint sensation raced down his spine. A flood of nebulous energy leaving him. Sergeant’s Intuition, guiding his blade with stolen fate.

The honed point of his blade slammed into its chitinous chest. Natural armour shattered, ichor flowing down the fuller of his blade. The beast shuddered. He must have hit something important: some organ?

Scoring the first major wound of their duel filled him with heat, a sensation tempered by the screaming danger of its counterattack.

Kicking off, Kaius barely avoided having his own arm severed, the tip of the creature's scythe raking across his scaled armour. The shimmering layer of magic from Lunar Plating shattered. Bolstered by the magic, metal held, bone did not.

Heat washed through his arm, carried away by the itch of his regeneration. Kaius let the arm slump — it needed a moment to set.

Before the royal guard could press its advantage, he reached for Stormlash. Deafening cracks echoed from the ancient brick walls of their battleground as blinding light banished the darkness again and again.

He spent his spells like water, hoping to weaken the beast with searing wounds to its internals.

The royal guard was having none of it. Wary of his magic from its first brush with the spell, it moved. Blurring with speed, mana flooded its scythe. It hacked at the ropes of lightning — severing them before they could land. Each banishment made it twitch, some remnant of the Stormlords fury coursing through its scythe, but it was a lesser thing.

Kaius scowled, still hurling more bolts at the creature. He wanted this fight done quick so that he could help Porkchop. He could hear the titanic clashes of his brother’s own duel across the room, though he dared not break his focus to check.

Regardless, his arm was healed. He halted his cast, charging forward on a wave of force. For a moment, he considered using Compel Obsession or Zone of Discombobulation to foul the creature's defence, before he dismissed the idea. The guard had learned of the threat of his lightning too quickly — far better he save them to guarantee his pivotal strike.

He fired another Nail instead. The creature slipped to the side with ease. Even hampered by ghostly lilies, it was damned fast.

Mid-advance, a soul shaking scream ripped through the chamber as the queen lifted its grotesque head upwards.

*Ding! You have been afflicted by Queen’s Rebuke - Domination*

It hit him like a hammer blow, a foreign and overwhelming urge to collapse washing over him. Kaius gasped, stumbling as he hit the ground.

It passed as the scream faded — but that moment of weakness was all the royal guards needed.

Both creatures sprinted, tearing across the chamber towards Ianmus and Kenva. They converged, a single unit with blades held high.

Kaius’s heart leapt into his throat. Hurling himself after them on a wave of force, he fired nail after nail into their backs. Steel slammed home, ripping open their carapace.

They didn’t falter, continuing their course.

Recovering from their own effects of the scream, Ianmus and Kenva sprinted to the side, activating their movement skills. Kenva turned, snapping multiple shots of Ensnaring Seedburst.

Vines sprouted, diving for the guards. Their scythes flashed, cutting through the obstacles before they could find purchase.

Still hot in pursuit, Kaius grit his teeth. He reached for Stormlash, and readied himself for VOS. Better to burn it early and grievously wound both creatures than let them reach his back line.

Before he could tap into the spell, Porkchop surged past him, impossibly fast. Right as the royal guards struck, he was simply there, soaking up the heavy blows with his armour. It was cracked, blood coating its surface from the constant battering he’d received, but it held.

Kaius breathed out in relief, Porkchop must have used Intercede the Weak. He wouldn’t have been able to intercept the attacks that quickly otherwise.

Moments later, Porkchop roared in the guard’s faces, forcing their attention onto him. A shieldwall snapped into existence in front of him, summoned suits of orichacum armour charging straight at the beasts.

They were forced back.

Kaius slammed into the back of the one armed beast like a ballista bolt, hacking deep into its side. Hymnfocus burned bright as he channeled a Nail into his blade. Ripping teeth sprouted, gorging on the creature's flesh.

The royal guard hissed, reacting to his assault with a sudden slash. Mercurial Reversal bolstered his parry, but it transitioned into a low swipe before he could utilise the stolen force.

Kaius grit his teeth. Logically, he knew it was impressive that he could go toe to toe with a nine stride tall mantis that had a blade as big as he was. It still galled that he was just managing to hold his own after the creature had lost an entire arm.

He blamed the bloody metal foot. Damn thing slowed him down.

The grubs covering the floor didn’t help either. Rotating through the chamber had brought them through their path. The brainless creatures kept trying to bite them, though their mandibles may as well have been made of tissue.

That said, splattering them every second step really played hell with his traction.

Lunar magic splashed over him, as Ianmus diverted his attention from the queen long enough to refresh Silver Plating. The spell pulsed from the silver concentric seal atop his staff, layered next to a golden one.

Forcing the royal guard on the defensive with a spray of Nails, Kaius summoned an unstable edge of arcane around his blade. Sharp cracks filled the air as Mystic Rend detonated inside one of the creature's legs. The limb held, but it shuddered under the strain.

The darkness of the underground suddenly vanished as an orb of compressed light drifted towards the hive queen. Kaius grinned — no way would they let the guards block that.

To his surprise and suspicion, his opponent didn’t so much as twitch towards its queen. It watched him coldly, keeping up the pressure as they matched blades again and again.

It stabbed — a grossly telegraphed attack. Sidestepping, Kaius realised its ploy too late.

A grub, skewered and wriggling on its scythe. A snapping flick sent the creature hurling across the cavern before he could react, a lingering trail of ichor dripping from its flesh.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kenva tear her attention away from her assault of the queen to fire off an arrow — a desperate attempt to knock away the grub.

The grub popped like an overripe grape — but the shot came too late. Torn strips of flesh continued, their momentum unaffected.

The pulped larva slammed into Ianmus’s spell, detonating it prematurely.

“Rotten roots!” Kaius swore. They needed these guards gone — removing the queen was taking far too long.

He was going about this the wrong way. The guard had the size and speed advantage, worse, it was devilishly intelligent. He needed to play to his strengths. Even if he could hit far harder than the creature, it mattered little if it foiled all of his attacks.

Kaius knew how to get his opening.

Roaring out his frustration, Kaius flooded his sword with Hellblade Investiture. He leveled his blade, hilt in tight to his armpit as a Shunt hurled him straight at the creature. A rash thrust.

An opening, one that became undeniable as he tore at the creature’s mind with Compel Obsession.

The royal guard lunged, extending its own blade as its edge grew bright. Kaius saw it coming, and let it happen. Its own scythe was longer than he was tall, even the most instinctive understanding of battle said he must abandon his approach.

He adjusted at the last moment, launching himself a little high. The point of the scythe slammed into his stomach. Lunar Plating shattered instantly. His armour ruptured immediately after, enchanted scale unable to hold up against such a heavy skill backed thrust.

Agony exploded through him as the scythe erupted out its back.

Kaius only bared his bloody teeth as blood spilled from his mouth. He raised one hand.

Try parrying now.

Runes burned in his throat, and his Authority pulsed as he reached for VOS. The great rune appeared in his mind, sharper and more resplendent than ever before. Through Refinement, he’d solidified his existence, and stood stalwart before the incomprehensible rush.

He could almost see!

Hateful Nail erupted from his hand, a stride long twisted spike of steel that tore straight into the royal guard with a cracking retort.

Chitin shattered as wires bloomed open. For a moment, the guard stood frozen, its upper body only supported by thin strips of flesh on either side of a gargantuan hole in its chest.

It collapsed a moment later.

*Ding! You have slain Golden Ceratin Royal Guard - Level 290 Obsidian Blade! Experience Gained! Increased Experience for slaying a foe of significantly higher level!*

*Ding! Runeblade Helion has reached level 235 > 237!*

*+6 Int; +5 Con, Str & Will; +2 Vit & Dex; +1 Free - from Class & Racial Traits!*

More dings sounded in his mind. Kaius ignored them. Gripping the scythe in his belly, he wrenched himself backwards and tried to ignore the sucking wet sound it made. Flesh roiled, gradually sealing the wound.

“Something's wrong with you, if you hadn’t realised yet!” Ianmus called across the chamber, firing a Ray of Tender Recovery in his direction.

Kenva just shook her head in resignation.

“I thought it was pretty cool. A little help?” Porkchop added, hurling himself at the remaining royal guard.

It was battered, ichor leaking from a dozen shattered chitinous plates. Porkchop didn’t look much better. His back had been ravaged from repeated stabs, steady rivulets of blood trickling down the sides of his armour.

Kaius just grinned, mouth still too full of blood to talk. Brandishing his blade, he ran for his brother's side.

2026-02-04 21:51:12 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 508: Unwanted Gold, pt. 5

It was a quiet sound, more of a faint wrapping sensation than anything else. Niles stilled, the leather wrapping of his sword hilt squeaking under his grip. Holding his breath, his heart pounded like a thunderclap. It made it hard to tell if it happened again. Had he imagined it?

Another grinding thud, a feathering resonance he just barely felt with his back pressed against the wall.

There it was again!

His eyes flicked to the nearby delvers. They stood sentinel, but relaxed. Though they weren’t so undisciplined as to calmly chat, he could see it in the way they stood. Further out, through the half open gateway that led into the central chamber, the other delver teams were just as at ease.

He forced himself to let out a slow breath — the tension was getting to him. Even if they were mostly Bronze, there were plenty of scouts, rangers, and rogues amongst their number. They had the stats; the skills. If it was something important, they’d notice first, right?

A flicker of motion caught his eye. The old man’s cat, Yan, he’d called it?

The beast’s ears were pricked up, and for a moment he thought it was staring right at him. It was an intense thing — yellow eyes, filled with primal awareness. An instinct to hunt and watch. It made him feel small. He shuffled to the side. Yan didn’t so much as twitch, the cat’s eyes still staring straight ahead.

Niles’s mouth went dry. The wall.

Another faint resonance shuddered through his back. Yan’s eyes flicked up higher, stopping halfway through the gentle curve where the wall joined the ceiling. The cat’s hackles rose as a barely audible growl rumbled through its chest.

Niles froze, his blood leaden ice. He wasn’t imagining things.

The man in front of him paused. Reaching forwards, he placed a hand on the back of his companion’s neck.

“Yan? What is it?” he whispered.

Looking back at the spot Yan was focused on, the man frowned. His eyes slid down, meeting Niles’ own. The frown deepened.

“What’s wrong, kid? Gotta be something if both you and Yan are spooked,” the man said, softly enough to not disturb the others nearby.

Another grinding thump, this time stronger — just a little. It jolted Niles from his shock.

“I feel something, barely. Some sort of thump, four times with the last just now. Thought I was imagining it, but…”

“But Yan noticed it too,” the man replied, nodding. “Keep quiet, I’ll let one of the delver’s know. Even if it is something, we need to avoid a panic. Hensch, by the way.”

Niles gave the man a shaky nod.

Hensch smiled back, before he turned to the nearest delver, a blonde woman with a thick breastplate who was leaning on her halberd for support. A wave got her attention — she frowned as Hensch waved her over.

Her approach was swift, but from the force of her steps Niles could tell she was frustrated. Most of the delvers were, after dealing with a constant barrage of questions from their charges.

“What is it?” she asked brusquely. “Our latrine rotation isn’t for another hour, and lunch isn’t for another three.”

Hensch shook his head, pushing himself to his feet.

“Not that,” he said, leaning in and lowering his voice. “Both my bonded beast and the boy behind me have noticed some sort of sound or impact through the walls. It might be nothing, or just the battle above, but we thought best to let you know.”

The delver paused, eyes lingering on the floor for a moment before they settled on Niles. She searched his face, as if assessing his trustworthiness. It galled him — a meaningless suspicion based on nothing more than his age and bearing. He clenched his jaw, refusing to look away. He wasn’t a liar.

Another thump, slightly stronger.

“They’re getting louder,” he whispered, jolting away from the wall.

The delver blinked, nodding. “I’ll get my captain — she’s got good senses. Might need to move back into the main room, just in case.”

She strode away, heading for a willowy woman with the faintest of points to her ears. Every step she took ratcheted Niles’ tension higher. Something was happening, he knew it — every part of it demanded action, yet he knew there was little he could do. Not without causing a panic.

In front of him, Yan’s faint growl deepened as the cat bared the faintest hint of his fangs at the ceiling above. Hensch’s jaw clenched, and Niles caught him reaching for the hilt of a knife at his belt. It wasn’t a weapon, shaped more like a cook’s knife than anything else, but it was large enough to almost be called a shortsword.

Hensch gave him a look, and slowly got to his feet. “Maybe it’s best we stretch our legs, eh lad? It’s not healthy to sit on hard stone for too long.”

Niles gave him a slow nod, and pushed himself up.

Halfway through the motion, he saw a flash of dust in the light. The jolt of it shocked him with energy. He snapped to the source. It wasn’t above him, not where Yan had been watching — it was across the hall, a good thirty strides away.

Something yellow streaked down, a writhing lump that was a stride and a half long. Niles watched in horror as the lump dropped to the crowd below. It landed on a man wearing a simple off-white tunic who was staring out into space.

Black mandibles closed around the man's shoulder. It tore through his flesh, bone splintering in a vice grip as his tunic was stained a shocking red. The wound smoked.

A scream cut through the low hubbub of the crowd, bright and violent. It was piercing, freezing Niles right to his heart. He knew it!

More dust erupted as holes opened in a wide cluster around the first intruder, including right above his head. Niles looked up just in time to see a steady stream of undulating bodies fall.

Pandemonium erupted as the entire crowd was on their feet in seconds. It was chaos, a press of bodies that made it almost impossible to see what was happening.

A weight slammed into his back. It sent a jolt of terror down his spine — had one of the grubs gotten him?

Staggering into a woman in front of him, the weight rolled off — landing by his feet. Another scream to his right stabbed into his ears, before he was shoved to the side as a body desperately pushed through the crowd. The tightness within him coiled tighter as he was hit from every angle by noise and motion. It was too much. Something broke inside of him, leaving only a cold clarity. It was familiar, the same sensation he’d felt when he’d run from his burning home and the baying calls of twisted hounds; when he’d sat through the drunk’s lickings; when he pushed himself on the training field.

Niles ripped his blade from his scabbard. He kept it low — the crush was too tight for a proper guard. Reaching to the pouch at his belt, he grabbed the oily rag he used to clean the weapon, and hurriedly wrapped his offhand before switching to a half-sword grip.

A shrill shriek from the mouth of the tunnel yanked at his attention. He didn’t see its source — too focused on the spray of blood that splashed across his face. The woman in front of him collapsed, a grub gnawing its way through her throat as she desperately clawed at the creature. She was terrified.

“Attack! Civilians, move to the main chamber. Delvers, form a battle line!” someone cried.

He barely heard it.

The growing pool of blood surrounding the woman at his feet yanked him out of the cold clarity he had found. Her eyes went glassy,and the pulsing edges of her wounds stilled. Niles froze. He knew he should move. Should take his blade and ram it through the soft looking body of the grub. Should do something.

Something soft and heavy landed on him. A sizzle entered his ear, followed by a burning heat as something dripped onto the back of his neck.

Barely a heartbeat later, a heavy shove sent him stumbling forwards. He could move again. Spinning, he saw a squirming grub falling to the ground with a savage gash opened in its side. Hensch was standing there, his oversized knife dripping.

The cat, Yan, dashed forwards. Its fangs grew, sinking into the grub that had nearly been his end and tearing it wide open. Iit had already been moving for his leg, hungry for his death despite the gaping wound Hensch had cut through its body.

Hensch’s hand clamped over his shoulder. “Move, lad — this tunnel is a deathpit. Follow me.”

He gave the man a shaky nod, staying close as Hensch waded into the crowd.

It was slow moving. In the sudden panic, few were moving in the direction of the main chamber. They were too focused on escaping from the grubs that werestill falling from the ceiling. By the gods, were they endless?

Every few moments, Hench’s knife would glint, its edge shining like a mirror. Tight stabs skewered grub after grub. Every time he got one, he flicked his blade — tearing open their fragile bodies.

The grubs were everywhere. Half of Hensch’s kills came from skewering grubs that had latched onto people, tearing into anything they could reach. Some stumbled away, trailing blood as they clutched a smoking hole in their arms or legs.

Others simply fell, his actions too slow to save them from a bite to the neck or head.

Who was he? Hensch was too calm, his movements too experienced for him to be anything other than a fighter. But why lounge in the tunnels with the rest of them? An ex-delver?

Niles breathed, moving in the man's wake. Whoever he was, his presence gave him the time to find the cold again. This was what it meant to be a delver — acting even through the worst chaos and danger.

He refused to slack just because he was near someone strong. Complacency would get him killed.

His grip tightened on his blade — tight enough that he felt its edge bite into his makeshift wrapping. He switched back to a low guard — constantly flicking between the floor and the ceiling in case a grub got between him and Hensch.

In all honesty, Yan was doing most of the work of keeping the ground clear. The mountain lion-sized cat was weaving through the crowd with sinuous grace, hunting every grub close. Every time, it would rip into their bodies — separating their heads before it moved to the next target.

Though the rain of larvae never stopped, the crowd was moving now — a panicked stampede towards the main chamber, rather than directionless panic.

It almost made it more chaotic. Every second, someone shoved past him with a scream on their lips — some simply frightened, others with gushing holes that left the ground slick with blood.

Far different from Hensch’s steady steps.

He had to fight to stay behind the man — pulling against the current that sought to yank him along with its path. For a moment, he lost sight of him as a bulky man shoved him to the side, racing between them in his haste to escape.

A streak of yellow and black fell from overhead. The man panicked, all but throwing himself through the crowd. Half a dozen people staggered as he shoved them aside.

In that same instant, Niles heard sudden grunt of pain directly in front of him. Hensch stumbled. The grub had latched onto his thigh, its dripping mandibles coated in the blood.

Niles absorbed the scene in an instant, the familiar ice of his Bloodsong pushing aside the chaos. Hensch’s blade was trapped by his side, arm pinned by a screaming mother clutching a child to her chest. Yon was longstrides away, tearing into another grub.

He had to act.

Tightening his grip on his blade, Niles lunged like he was holding a short spear. The tip of his blade lanced out like a viper, a move he had practiced on the sparring field thousands of times.

Enchanted steel punched through the soft yellow of the creature's body, sliding under the black carapace that coated its head. Writhing, the creature's jaws released.

Niles flicked it down, yellow ichor spilling as the grub hit the ground. Silent in his intensity, he slid into a downwards stab — and threw his whole body weight behind the point of his sword.

Chitin crunched.

The larva shuddered for a final time. System chimes sounded in his mind, more sonorous and potent than he had ever heard before.

*Ding! You have slain Golden Ceratin Larva - Level 36 Seed of Potential!*

*Achievement Noted - You Are Being Observed*

*Ding! Significant Feat of Strength performed under Observation. You have been awarded an Honour: Ruthless Underdog*

Niles forced himself to breathe, reeling as a sudden rush of strength flooded through every part of him. Did the guild know that unclassed could get Honours? It hadn’t been part of the release a few weeks ago.

“Thanks, kid. Let’s keep movin” Hensch said, dragging him from his thoughts. The man limped forwards, one hand pressing on his wound while his other brandished his knife.

Niles forced himself to focus, following close behind. His questions could wait until he’d survived the current crisis. Hopefully the extra five stats he’d just gotten to everything would help with that.

2026-02-03 21:12:29 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 507: Unwanted Gold, pt. 4

Kaius peered into the room. A rounded chamber, fifty long strides or more across. The ceiling was far higher than the rest of the catacombs — though its walls were still filled with the same grave-niches he’d seen all throughout the complex. Pillars encircled the space, propping up the ceiling, and dozens of openings littered its sides — leading to tunnels spiralled away into the black.

It almost looked like they might have once been covered in engravings, though they were heavily weathered by time.

He didn’t bother to look closer. The queen held his entire attention, laying at the far side of the room, a little to their right.

It was an undulating mountain of flesh; a grotesque refinement of the larva it spawned. At least forty strides long, its head was bulbous, and made of black plates that pulsed. Expanding and contracting, the poor coverage of its chitin revealed flashes of golden flesh.

Kaius had no idea how it could even move. Six legs lay haphazardly scattered over the first quarter of its body, but the things looked far too spindly to support its bulk. Behind those lay what could only be described as a fleshy sack; half molten as it oozed over the red brick of the ground below.

Disgusted fascination gripped him as he watched its naked thorax pulse and undulate in a constant ripple. There was a building intensity to it as the contractions grew larger; the timing between them shorter.

A heartbeat later, the crescendo arrived. The queen's thorax scrunched as a gaping sphincter opened on its rear.

From that pit of horror, an amniotic deluge flowed, and with it came more of the creature's horrid spawn. A tide of maggots, dripping with slime.

The newborns quivered, writhing as they acclimatised to their sudden life. Soon, they moved — an undulating carpet that crept for the closest tunnels.

Kaius watched them leave, still held frozen by what he had just witnessed. Swallowing thickly, he suppressed his urge to gag. By the gods was he glad that they had decided to circle around and approach from a different angle. He had no doubt that killing any larve so close to their mother would alert the creature.

At least this way they could survey the battle ground.

“Gods,” he whispered, the sound masked by the constant squelching coming from the room ahead.

“Definitely one of the more disgusting sights I've ever seen,” Ianmus agreed.

“Ignore it, I spotted the guards,” Kenva said, pointing past the queen.

Following her queue, Kaius saw them almost immediately. They lurked in the shadows, towering figures that stood taller than their mother. If their queen was the epitome of sloth, her guards were the killing edge of a blade given life.

Half again as tall as he was, they looked like a mantis covered in black plate, with only thin golden lines revealing the colour of their hidden flesh. Standing as still as statues, their bulbous black eyes hid malevolent depths — he could almost feel their willingness to die in service.

Folded tightly to their chests in a cross, their blades looked as dangerous as any greatsword. Sickle-shaped, they tapered to an edge so fine it looked almost transparent.

Kaius’s eyes drifted lower, settling on their powerful legs.

“Speed focused, you said?” he asked Porkchop.

Before his brother could reply, the queen’s abdomen contracted once more — spilling its grizzly contents across the floor. Kaius grimaced, they needed that thing gone. He would have thought it miraculous how quickly it could birth its spawn, if it wasn’t so dangerous.

“That’s what the Matriarchs said,”

Kaius nodded, before he analysed the creatures.

*Golden Ceratin Royal Guard - Level 290 Obsidian Blade*

Beast, Elite, Minion, Skirmisher

*Golden Ceratin Royal Guard - Level 290 Obsidian Blade*

Beast, Elite, Minion, Skirmisher

*Golden Ceratin Queen - Level 312 Mother to the Kingdom*

Beast, Elite, Hive Queen, Bastion

Their levels were manageable. Just. The queen was a higher level than even the final Guardian they had faced in their most recent delve, however she wouldn’t be the primary threat. From what Porkchop had said, the creature was almost entirely geared towards the production of her young, plus a few defensive and supportive abilities. The queen could have had all the stats in the world, and it wouldn’t have helped with how bloated and immobile it was.

The royal guards were another matter. Two-ninety was strong — and a speed focused foe would stretch his capabilities. It was the average level of the deepest Depths layer they’d reached — a place where every fight had required the full cooperation of his team. Could he hold one alone?

A wide smile spread across his face at the thought of it. He’d grown in the weeks since their last delve. He was well into the second tier now — all of his general skills and two of his class skills had reached that new level of power.

He’d be a fool to use Starfall — the area it covered was larger than the room itself, and he didn’t fancy getting caught out by his own spell. That said, his empowered Drakthar still made the rest of his spells more potent. Beyond that, he had Hellblade Investiture.

His prosthetic might be an issue, but he’d learnt from their tussle with the nightscale — he was fully loaded on spells, including his mobility ones.

“We tie up one each. You confident?”

Porkchop gave him an affronted look,“You think I'm going to let an overgrown bug show me up?”

“That’s the spirit,” Kaius said, before he looked behind him to his back line. “You two focus on taking down the queen. We’ll call out if we need help.”

Kenva nodded, while Ianmus drummed his finger on his staff as he looked up at the layered keyseals that sat at its tip.

“I’ll use one of my new spells — Sanctified Lilyfield should work well.” The mage said.

Kaius grinned, excited to finally see his new keyseal in action. Much like Keyseal of the Rising Dawn, The Nights’ Watch came with a first and second tier spell. The former was relatively basic — Silver Plating. It gave Ianmus’s target an additional layer of magical protection.

Sanctified Lilyfield was much more interesting. Supposedly, it would cause giant, illusory lilies to sprout from the ground in a large area. To the mage's allies, they would barely be visible, and would be utterly incorporeal. To hostiles, they would swamp the field, bogging down movements, and hampering attacks.

Kaius breathed deep, slowly drawing his blade as he gripped it tightly. He met his brother’s eyes.

“I’ll take right, you take left?”

Porkchop nodded.

“We open with a heavy strike on the queen — either we injure her, or the guards dive for the attack and make our jobs easier.”

“Sounds good,” Kenva replied, while Ianmus simply gripped his staff tighter, brow furrowed in intensity.

“Go!”

They burst into motion.

Kaius raced in, hearing the scream of his heart as the battle rush hit him like an alchemist's tonic. Everything came into instant clarity — even the awkward weight of his prosthetic was forgotten.

A step. That was how long it took for the royal guards to react. Gods, they were fast. Twin scythes as long as he was tall unfurled. Silent specters, they leapt over the queen with silent agility.

Another step, and their attacks flew.

A blitz of Hateful Nails erupted from Kaius’s hand in a burst of rapid cracks, mana vented so quickly it looked like he’d set the limb alight. Over his shoulder, he felt the concussive blast of Kenva’s arrow racing past his head.

There was no time for her to charge Howl of the North Wind — Bare Thy Heart took its place, a crackling arrow of verdant energy as large as a lance that boiled with explosive potential.

Solar mana pulsed, and captured stellar might shot on the tail of the rest of their opening salvo. Preeminent Halo.

In the wake of their attack, the ambient mana in the room went wild — eddying currents swirling into a chaotic storm in the face of so much raw energy.

The royal guards were ready for them. One charged, lunging forward as its bladearms swept high. With every step, spire of rock erupted from the ground to push it forward faster — all while its weapons sparked with crackling fury.

“Mine!” Porkchop said, letting loose a bassy roar. His Bulwark’s Challenge hit the creature like a physical blow — ripping its attention away from the rest of their party.

The other royal guard threw itself at their attacks.

Kenva’s arrow arrived first — only to be cut out of the air by a slashing limb. The arrow detonated, rocking the creature back a step — and revealing a hairline crack on the creature's scythe.

It recovered by the time Kaius’s Nails arrived. Both of its scythes moved in coruscating arcs, intercepting all seven of his projectiles. The metal spikes sparked with every impact, spinning off into brick walls of the cavern, each releasing a cloud of dust and ancient brick shards.

When the creature lunged for Ianmus’s spell, Kaius held his breath. They couldn’t be that lucky, could they?

He scowled as it thrust out its cracked blade — just barely nicking the tightly packed orb of golden fire with the tip of its weapon.

Golden fire consumed the limb utterly. The insectile warrior screamed, a chittering squeal that stabbed Kaius in his very marrow.

Before the creature could recover, he loosed a shunt — sending himself straight at the beast with his blade held high. Hellblade Investiture flooded his sword.

Ghostly lilies sprouted, a field of fouling beauty. Kaius struck. Entangled in his friend's spell, the creature couldn’t get its bearings fast enough. He aimed for its left hand side — right where Ianmus had taken off its arm.

A cutting scythe intercepted his thrust, flicking his blade off course. Shuddering resonance rocketed up his arm, cracking bone. Pain arced like lightning. Kaius clenched his jaw tight, fighting through it.

The bastard had some sort of retributive skill. He refused to be out done.

Slipping his off-hand free, he hurled a Stormlash at the creature. Simultaneously, he spun through his hips, hurling his blade in a vertical arc — Liturgical Bladeform guiding his meld of spell and steel.

Lightning bound the creature. It seized, just for a moment. More than long enough for his slash to cleave home into its shoulder.

Infusing the strike with Mystic’s Rend at the last moment, Kaius felt the crack of the beast’s carapace giving way — right before the unstable arcane infusion granted by his skill detonated.

It screamed, backing away as it watched him warily.

Kaius bared his teeth, relishing in the purifying aggression that washed over him. It saw him as a threat, far too much of one for it to make a play at his backline without dealing with him.

It was right. He was.

Already, Ianmus and Kenva were throwing everything they had at the distant hive queen. Arrows sprouted from its bloody flesh, and smoking tracks were carved across golden skin. Yet the wounds healed astonishingly fast, and worse, the creature was putting up a surprising defence. Again and again, Kaius watched sudden sheets of stone erupt from the ground, intercepting his friends' attacks.

The guard in front of him tensed. So did Kaius.

In unison, they moved — the beast propelled by stone, him by a burst of force. Blades clashed again and again, a constant din filling the cavern. It was joined by a sudden screech of tearing metal.

Sliding under a cleaving blow that would have taken off his head, Kaius looked to the source of the sound — a massive scratch down Porkchop’s side. His brother was embroiled in an all-out brawl. Stabbing blows landed on his back again and again, struggling to penetrate his thick armour.

In turn, Porkchop was throwing everything he had at his own guard, yet it avoided most attacks with ease. An impasse.

“How’re you holding up?” Kaius asked, feeling out the flow of his foes movements.

“Feeling like it’s kinda bullshit that I got the one with two bloody scythes, to be honest!” Porkchop replied, freezing for a moment as he blocked a flickering stab at his neck withThe Stone That Weathered Time, the skill flooding his body with protective energy.

“I don’t know what to say, other than you picked that one.”

“Fuck you!”

Kaius laughed; he’d come help soon, but before that he’d have to put down his own opponent.

It was his brother’s luck that he’d had a full set of spells inscribed before the chaos had hit. With Redoubt of the Speaker, he was confident on finishing off his half-crippled guard. As soon as he’d figured out its tempo, he’d strike.

After all, he didn’t want to miss.

2026-02-02 21:16:36 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 506: Unwanted Gold, pt. 3

Deadacre’s catacombs were barren things. The sewers above were labyrinthine, but there was a method to their madness. Ventral waterways cut through the ground beneath like arteries, while smaller capillaries serviced the needs of every lane and tucked away buildings.

The catacombs couldn’t have been more different. They were three dimensional, like a tangled heap of yarn had been used as a blueprint. Each tunnel was similar — a cramped thing made of a dark brown brick, barely tall enough for Porkchop to stand. They were, thankfully, wide enough for them to comfortably maneuver as a cohesive unit. Being forced into single file would have been hell in the current circumstances.

Tiny niches littered the walls, walled off with thin clay plates that had sealed away their contents for millenia. Not all survived, and those that broke revealed ancient bones, rotten scraps of cloth, and squat urns.

There was no light to see. None of them needed it.

A sudden shriek came from around a bend ahead of them. It heralded another wave of beasts — a motley collection of rodents that came up to his waist, and an ant-like creature that crawled on the roof.

They died quickly, just more bones for the graveyard they travelled through.

Kaius knew they were getting close. The calls of beasts were constant — a chittering hum that crawled down the back of his neck. Logically, he knew that none of the creatures posed much of a threat to him and his team.

It was still hard to shake marrow-deep instincts that screamed at him. Being stuck in a bloody catacomb full of monsters was uncomfortable, no matter how strong he was.

Taking another corner, Kaius locked eyes with a skull set deep into a hole in the wall. He looked away, feeling its gaze following them even as they passed.

He’d read up on the catacombs before their first foray into the ruins below. Very little was known about them, other than that they were old. Much older than the city and sewers above. That much was obvious. The deep red-brown of the brick was so very distinct compared to the grey stone masonry used in much of modern Deadacre’s construction.

As far as people had been able to tell, they were built at minimum in the dark ages following the shattering — millenia old. It was entirely possible that they were pre-imperial. Much of the surviving imperial ruins had been those that had been intentionally buried deep and hidden as best as they were able to. Hiding them beneath existing ruins wasn’t out of the question. Such structures existed, not many, considering the immense age, but they did exist.

Some were even famous. Galtha was the closest: an ancient township that had been excavated in the central regions of the Greenseed Dukedoms. Little more than foundations with a few murals and basements. Kaius didn’t quite understand the hubbub, but the author of the book he’d read about the catacombs had been insistent that there were commonalities between the two structures.

Namely, the extensive warren of bones that sprawled beneath the surface.

It was a scholar's fascination, and his worst nightmare. If Porkchop was right, the dense network of tunnels would make it a painful exercise to cleanse the city of golden ceratin. He could only hope that the Tyrant had fully subverted their natural instincts.

If they were all crawling for those sheltering in the ruin, they would at least be in one place. If they were spreading as far as they were able, it would take the full weight of the guild to track them down and root them out before they grew into full fledged horrors.

They had to take out the source, before the problem could grow. Thankfully, they were getting close. The flow of beasts was getting thicker, though they had yet to see signs of the grubs themselves.

As they ran through the dark, Kaius weighed up their approach to the coming battle. Magna had been clear, the hive queen was guarded by two other large forms — though they knew frustratingly little else.

Porkchop had warned them of Royal Guards — hive spawn produced solely to protect their matriarch. Speed-demons with scythes that would put a mantis to shame. He and Porkchop would have to tie up one each, to give Ianmus and Kenva the space to put down the queen. Even if the creature was tough, he didn’t doubt that his teammates had enough firepower.

Porkchops ears twitched, pricking in the direction of their target.

“I hear something,”

A few more bends, and Kaius heard it too. The rhythmic slap of flesh — like a steak thrown at a butcher's block. The noise was faint, but layered, made by many bodies. The grubs, it had to be.

It didn’t take long before he saw them. Maggots as large as his thigh, with pale yellow bodies that were capped by a head of gleaming black carapace that dominated a third of their total size — most of that made up by hooked mandibles that shone with a sticky fluid.

There were so many, a loose procession scattered through the tunnel, dutifully crawling deeper into the dark.

Kaius analysed one, letting out a hiss.

Golden Ceratin Larva - Level 31 Seed of Potential

The sight of the system's words curdled his blood. Rotten roots, Porkchop was right.

Again and again he pulled up their description. All were the same, their levels ranging from thirty to forty. That was… manageable. Maybe. The creatures weren’t physically imposing, and with their soft bodies, they should be easy to kill. If they breached the ruins, the lower ranked delvers that were defending them should be able to cleave through them easily.

It all depended on numbers, and how they dealt with the surprise. Oh how he wished that imperial construction didn’t resist intrusion from foreign magic. Things would be far less fraught if they were able to give the defenders more warning.

Racing into the tunnel, Kaius looked the way the creatures had come — seeing endless pale bodies undulating past the bend, with more spreading through side passages.

The closest larva clacked its mandibles, wriggling closer.

Kaius scowled, stomped. His boot sank into its giving flesh. The creature popped as he felt its body give way. Ichor gushed, soaking through his boots.

Magic swelled behind him — one of the sigils atop Ianmus’s staff swelling in potency.

“Don’t,” Kaius replied, waving them forward. “There’s too many of them, no point in wasting our strength.”

Porkchop nodded, “Gotta cut off the source — their largest danger is how swiftly the queen spawns when threatened. It’ll be impossible for us to stem the tide here; all we’ll do is give the queen more time to bunker down.”

Ianmus hesitated for a moment, but nodded.

They ran on. If the grubs provided one benefit, it was a highlighted trail that led them straight towards the Matriarch. Despite his words of wisdom, Kaius did his best to squash larva with every step he made. It didn’t slow them, and every little bit counted.

As they moved, they saw fewer and fewer roving packs of beasts. The earthmages must have already collapsed the tunnel they were using to enter — they’d felt more than one shuddering rumble through the earth in their descent. Most likely, those that had made it in had already moved higher to strike at the city.

The distinctive clank of whirring metal from a tunnel to their left yanked at Kaius’s attention. He whipped his blade up, spinning to the potential threat. Porkchop fell in beside him, hackles up.

A whirling multi-armed monstrosity of steel spun out of the dark. It moved with jagged grace, spraying blood and ichor with every movement. A worker drone, covered in the viscera of slain beasts. Kaius paused.

The automaton screeched to a halt. One of its many arms hurled something at his chest. Kaius caught it reflexively — a disc of dark metal, with dense inscriptions coating its surface.

Before he could question what had just happened, mana surged within the automaton’s core. There was a flash of violet light, followed by the dull gleam of superheated metal. The drone collapsed.

“What the fuck?” Kaius questioned.

He lunged forwards, storing the automatons’ remains in his ring — and splattering a grub that went for his ankle.

*Ding! You have slain Golden Ceratin Larva - Level 32 Seed of Potential! Reduced Experience for slaying a creature of significantly lower Level!*

“Appologies, lord Unterstern. This was the furthest I could direct a drone without its stores running dry, triggering safeguards, or both,” the Castellan said, its voice coming loud and clear from the disk Kaius held clutched in his hand.

“The Castellan?” Porkchop questioned.

“Just so,” the automaton replied. “Creating an artefact keyed to the facility’s wards, and capable of detecting natural telepathy took some work, but I thought it prudent in case the lord was incapacitated. It’ll allow you to contact me as long as you are within a league of the facility.”

Kaius took the development in stride. He waved to his team to continue, setting off at a run towards their destination — the chamber they’d been shown on the map of the catacombs.

“There’s been a breach — a Golden Ceratin hive queen broke into the catacombs. Its larvae are heading for the citizens sheltering in the central dome.”

“I’m aware, I have drones defending the surrounding tunnels, but most of the creatures are boring their way through the ceiling. They must be wiped out — that particular species is an invasive plague, though thankfully their natural instincts seem to have been overridden.”

“Can you stop them before they do? If they’ve already made it that far, there must be enough of them to overwhelm the delver squads,” Kenva asked, breathy from the pace of their run.

“No, though there is another option. I know the risks of revealing the facilities active state, but repair work has gone well — I can momentarily overload the lights and utilise the beam defences in the entrance dome to cull a vast majority of the larva. It’ll take time, power will need to be rerouted. The ceratin will have broken through by the time it’s ready.”

Kaius hesitated. It was better than the blatant intervention of automata, but it would leave signs — ones impossible to ignore. The automata weren’t really an option anyway — the panic and distraction they would cause could just as easily lead to more deaths.

A heartbeat later, a bitter tide of disgust fell thickly on his tongue. He couldn’t just let people die.

“If it looks like the defenders are going to be overwhelmed, do it. We’ll come to assist as soon as the queen is dealt with.”

“By your will, my lord. I will distract you from your purpose no longer.”

The Castellan fell silent, and Kaius stored the communication disk away. They ran on, the silence broken only by the regular splash of the larva they trampled.

“Fuck,” Ianmus finally said.

Fuck, indeed. Kaius thought to himself. The smouldering tension in his belly brightened, as did his hungry desire to leave the hive queen shattered and broken. The sooner they could get to the ruins, the better.

“I’ll let the others know.” he said, before he reached with his Will towards the communication artefact in his ear.

“Ro, we’re getting close to the hive queen. Porkchop recognises them. The larva normally scatter, and mature into warriors — and occasionally another queen. So far they’re not doing that, but who knows what the Tyrant will do.”

There was a faint crackle before Ro’s voice came through — distortion, likely from their proximity to the ruins below.

“Hells,” she cursed. “A problem for the future, if we make it through. Even the most prolific species will take months to mature like that. Anything else? You wouldn’t reach out for just that.”

“Yeah, the Castellan sent a worker drone with a communication artefact. The larvae are boring through the roof of the dome, and there’s enough of them the defenders will struggle. It repaired some defences, and can flash the lights to blind people before using them, but…”

Kaius heard the guild administrator growl in frustration.

“But that’ll still give the game away. Shattered bloody axles. We best hope you can kill the queen quick enough that it won't need to act.”

A moment later, Kaius heard the sound of stone shattering as Ro let out a heavy grunt.

“Shit! Watch the tail!” she roared. “I’ve got to go — fight hard, we’re getting slammed up here.”

Kaius clenched his jaw as the connection was cut. Squashing down his nerves, he leaned hard into the simmering heat of his Bloodsong. They had a job to do, nothing more to it.

2026-02-01 23:02:04 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 505: Unwanted Gold, pt. 2

Yellow wardlights flickered in the Plucked Hen’s common room. They were well made — mimicked the soft luminance of candle fire in their tone, and a gentle waver. But even quality struggled to hold up to a week of hell.

Kaius sat at the makeshift round table that had been arranged in the centre of the common room, with his team at his left. The meeting with the city's leadership seemed unending — half an hour and they had yet to come to a consensus about if they should hole up and wait for something to change, or make a break for it.

He thought it a bit asinine — fleeing was suicide.

As the governor went through an exhaustive account of the state of their supplies, Kaius eyed the lights. That momentary flicker suggested a failure in the circuits that controlled them. Most likely something had loosened in the constant barrage of shudders that occurred during the Tyrants nightly bombardment. If the formation had been laid into the foundation of the building, it wouldn’t have taken all that much.

It would have been an easy fix — even lacking direct knowledge of the script, he would have been able to simply copy the work of whoever had initially laid them.

Not that he had the time. At least the thought of it was a good distraction.

A sudden flash of movement across the table ripped him from his peace. Madra, standing up with a sudden start. The man’s eyes were distant, almost like he was checking his notifications.

His status wouldn’t have left his eyes so wide, nor his face so pale.

Kaius’s stomach dropped. Something unexpected had happened — he doubted the gods would be so kind for it to be something pleasant.

Everyone stared at the earth mage — even his fellow member of Stonespire, Isaac. The other earthmage frowned, concentrating for a moment before his face twisted into an expression of horror.

Gods’ scorn, that wasn’t good.

“Madra, what’s happening?” Ro said calmly. Her voice was still iron hard, accepting no rebuke.

“A breach,” the man gasped. “Deep beneath the walls — barely on the edge of my senses. I would have missed them if I wasn’t scanning to distract myself. They’ve dug a tunnel.”

Pandemonium erupted. Kaius leapt to his feet, reaching for the comforting presence of his blade. They’d gotten into the catacombs? They were doomed. The structures beneath the city were a warren of overlapping paths — it would be almost impossible to hem the creatures in. They would be everywhere.

“Be ready,” He urged Porkchop through their bond — someone was going to have to seal that tunnel, and they were the only full team.

“Always.”

“Focus, mage!” Rieker barked, making Madra blink in shock. “Numbers, movements — anything you can tell us.”

Madra gave the man a shaky nod, before he turned to his fellow stone mage. “Boost me, I need better sight.”

Mana swirled around the pair, quickly racing into Madra's eyes — causing them to burn a vivid brown. He gasped for a second time.

“It’s hard to get a picture of strength, but three larger creatures have tunneled their way in. They must have some sort of natural earth magic — I have almost no influence surrounding them. Beasts are flooding in — movements are consistent with standard forces, though there could be Silvers hidden amongst them.”

The rest of the inn was dead silent. Kaius swallowed thickly. They’d waited for a change, now they had one. He only hoped they were strong enough to survive. If the beasts moved down, towards the ruin…

It would be a slaughter. The noncombatants hiding in those tunnels may as well be trussed up bits of meat even if they fought back. The Castellan could help, but that was a problem all on its own.

An active ruin, friendly to the common man? It would draw the attention of every major power on the continent. Deadacre wouldn’t survive that attention — wars had been fought over less.

And if his command over the automata was discovered, he doubted even being a Platinum delver would help him. He’d immediately become the most wanted man on Vaastivar.

“What are they doing!” Ro hissed. Her eyes flicked to Kaius for a bare moment, dread on her face. She must have come to the same realisation.

“They’re spreading out, and moving up. They must be planning to flood the city.”

“Gods’ scorn,” Rieker whispered.

The guildmaster snapped to the captain of the guard, jerking his head to say the man should join him. “We need to mobilise — get your men on the wall, I’ll get my delvers to cover the sewer entrances large enough for major excursions.”

He switched back to the stone mages. “Can the two of you collapse the tunnel they made — and maybe funnel the creatures to a specific exit?”

Isaac hesitated for a moment before he nodded, “Working over that distance will be tough — Half an hour for the entrance, another half to collapse key routes through the sewers.”

The captain of the guard leaned over the table, inspecting the large map they had been using to plan the battle. It was more than just the streets — with the help of the earthmages, a second page showed the tangled network of sewers beneath the city.

“What about there?” he said, pointing to an open square in the south-west of the city. It had two large sluicegates leading to major conduits in the tunnels below.

“It’ll work. It’s close enough to the breach, we might be able to shave off a quarter hour or so. We’ll still need teams posted up through the city — no way we catch all of them in our net.”

Rieker nodded, before he stepped away — already barking orders into a communication artefact.

“We’ve got a problem,” Madra hissed. “The creatures that bored their way in have stopped, but I'm picking up movement. Some sort of swarm, and they’re moving down. I think it’s a hive queen.”

Rotten roots. What in all of the hells was a hive queen doing with the Tyrant’s forces? Such beasts never left their territories, existing under constant guard. Plus, Kaius had heard that they were mostly useless in combat — most of their abilities were geared to being hardy and pumping out as many young as possible.

Where the hell had the Tyrant even found one? Insectile beasts that could proliferate like that were priority targets — they were far too dangerous to be left alone.

If the creature’s young were heading towards the ruin… The Tyrant must have known there were people down there the whole time. The new born creatures would be weak…but so were those sheltering in the tunnels.

Ro met his eyes, her face filled with firm conviction. “Go, we need that queen dead.”

He nodded. “Where?”

Madra tapped the map — a section of sewers only a few blocks further into the city from the square they were planning to funnel the incursion into. “Beneath here — they’ve found some sort of open chamber in the catacombs."

Kaius nodded, before turning to his team. “Let's go. The longer we take to wipe them out, the more chances people die.”

There was no reason to wait. After days of battle, they had long since taken to moving fully kitted at all times. While he felt the cold chill of dread, Kaius couldn’t say that he was shocked by the development.

He’d always known something was coming — some tragedy the Tyrant had held in reserve for their darkest day. Carnage was in the air. This was the creature's last gambit, its last challenge before they would face it in the field. He felt it in his very bones.

Right as he moved towards the door, a bell toll struck him full in the chest. He paled — that was the sign of an incoming attack.

A runner burst through the door to the inn, chest heaving as he looked at them with wild eyes. Every single pair of eyes rested on the man, their silence heavy with dread.

“Massive push — they’re sending everything at the eastern gate.”

By the bloody gods. If it was a final gambit, it was a rotten good one.

Kaius gripped the hilt of his blade, meeting Ro’s eyes.

“Go! We’ll handle this part,” she urged.

He obeyed, running for the door with his team hot on his heels.

…

The sewers were even more rank than he remembered. Damp cobble covered in a green-brown slime surrounded him on all sides as he ran along one side of the tunnel. It was one of the larger ones — a thoroughfare big enough that he and Porkchop could move side by side.

To their right, a stream of shit and offal flowed. It had rained twice in the last week — deluges that had pulled rotting meat and viscera into the black rivers that ran beneath the streets. A grand testament to the situation they had found themselves in.

Turning a corner, Kaius spotted six beasts — lurking, furred things with claws as long as his arm. Driven by a Tyrant’s mania, they cared little for the grime of their surroundings. So much so that two of them waded though the chest high sewerage.

They hit the creatures like a typhoon, barely breaking stride as they left shattered bodies in their wake. His target fell cut in two, while Porkchop simply crushed the other barring their path.

*Ding! You have slain Shaggy-maned Turos - Level 108 Viperclaw! Experience Gained! Reduced Experience for slaying a foe of significantly lower level!*

Kenva dealt with the ones wading through the muck — no way they were jumping in that.

“I smell it,” Porkchop said, growling deep in his throat.

“I think we all do, friend!” Ianmus gasped from behind them.

“No, not the sewer. The hive queen. I wasn’t sure at first, given where we are, but its musk is all over the beasts we’ve fought. Pheromone markers.”

“You recognise it,” Kaius said grimly. It was obvious with their bond, and Porkchop wouldn’t bring it up unless it was relevant.

“I do. It’s a creature known to the dens — one of the few we are taught to scent from a young age. Native second tier when fully grown, though when well established they can get much stronger. The system calls them Golden Ceratin, but the closest translation of our name for them would be the Reaving Plague.”

Great, just great — that didn’t sound like something they should worry about at all. He groaned, resigning himself for a brutal fight.

“What a joyful and totally not ominous name!” Kenva said, echoing his opinion, “I assume you memorised them for their defenceless nature and delicious, gooey interior?”

They took a left, gunning hard for their destination — the faster they arrived, the better.

“I wish. They’re hive creatures, like Madra guessed. When the nest is attacked, the queen produces thousands of spawn that burrow away and flee — each one matures into a warrior, and if the conditions are right, one will find a forgotten hole to mature into a new queen. We hunted them immediately if they were found — let them get established and it is a nightmare to root them out.”

“So Deadacre’s got an infestation, then,” Kaius said grimly.

“Maybe. It really shouldn't be here — I've never heard of one leaving its nest, nor do they have a tendency to roam far once a territory has been established. If the Tyrant is controlling them, maybe the grubs won't scatter like they normally do. Madra said they were heading down — they’re weak. Even the non-combatants should stand a chance against them — as long as they don’t get bitten. They can secrete a nasty acid.”

Acidic, because of course they were. Another problem for the pile. Regardless of how the Tyrant’s control worked, they would still need to treat Porkchop’s information as a credible threat. Hunting down the grubs to the last sounded like it would be a nightmare.

They had Madra and Isaac to help, but that was a problem all on its own. The mages were aware of the existence of the ruin, but they’d been kept far from it. If they got too close, they might be able to sense the sealed lower levels that were still very much active.

Of course, the ruin was warded against such things, but Kaius didn’t want to risk it unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Well, if it's as bad as you say, we best hurry up and put the beast down. The sooner we can stop that queen from producing more larva, the better,” Kaius said.

They ran, leaving bodies in their wake as they pushed deeper into the sewers.

2026-02-01 04:51:47 +0000 UTC View Post

Slight additions to chapter 461

RR is getting to the Castellan reveal, and I noticed I never actually mentioned how the Castellan identified him through his blood lol. Added a small section, as seen below

---

As his friends joined him, the Castellan crouched down once more. Though this time, it kept its hand on its sword, presumably to maintain whatever skill was protecting them from the arcane mana.

“First, an answer to your earlier question, my lord,” the Castellann said. “Your blood. There are biological markers present in all beings, but over significant spans of time they are…unsuitable for determining House lineage. Sympathetic resonance is far more important. Blood calls to blood; an unbreakable bond that can be felt, with the right capabilities. Unterstern was more than aware of this, and prepared…contingencies.”

“Contingencies?” Kaius questioned.

Rather than answer, the automaton gestured to Kaius’s sword.

“Your blade is most fascinating. There were multiple different scripts involved in its construction, and as simplistic as they are, the work is masterful. There is even a derivative of the sovereign star built into the binding. That above all proves your claim.”

“Excuse me?” Kaius replied. What was that — and how did it relate to what the automaton was saying about his blood?

When the Castellan responded, Kaius could have sworn he heard a hint of delight in its otherwise even voice.

“The greatest achievement of the House of Creation, and the very same mechanism through which I recognised you. It is a lordship, and a divine right to rule, built into my very marrow — into all critical infrastructure that Unterstern had its personal, unminded, unmonitored hands in creating and designing. No one else had the knowledge, or the mastery, to find its far-flung presence in their works.”

2026-01-30 02:29:49 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 504: Unwanted Gold, pt. 1

Kaius sat in the common room of the inn that had been chosen as a command centre. Everyone was there, from the city and guild leadership to the elites. Yet another meeting. They’d taken to having them every morning — a stubborn ritual to herald surviving yet another night of the Tyrant’s attacks.

Seven days. Seven gods-cursed days.

That’s how long it had been. How long they’d been trapped in an endless cycle of fending off maddened beasts. It was doing his damned head in.

He’d been so bloody sure that the Tyrant would have attacked by now. Maybe not on the second day, or even the third, but seven? Maybe he was wrong. Maybe there wasn’t a reason behind the Tyrant pulling back its forces right before securing a major breachhead, every damn day. For all he knew, it was insane!

It couldn’t be. The damn thing was too calculated — too bloody good at finding just the right mix of threats to occupy his team and the other elites. Even when he’d managed to convince the others that he and his team should stick together, it just threw more at them.

Kaius clenched his jaw, thinking of the massive, shaggy-furred beast that they’d dealt with last night. The thing had been infested with some sort of fly. It had taken them a better part of an hour to take the thing down — its parasites hadn’t taken kindly to their attack on their home.

He leaned on the wide table in front of him, doing his best to ignore the way his gambeson stuck to his skin. He’d been wearing it for five days straight at this point, and even with cleaning enchantments the battlegrime had grown thick.

It was a sensation he was used to, but it would never be one he enjoyed.

Across from him Fyfen, the governor's chamberlain, droned on about logistics. The man was detailed to a point, but his message was simple. They were losing too many men, and eating too much food.

It didn’t take a ledger to figure that out, it was obvious enough just looking out the window.

Kaius forced himself to focus. He might have been tired, but this was important. This was where the direction of the defence was decided — he had a duty to keep himself abreast.

The air was thick like treacle, mired in confusion and suspicion. They should have been overrun. That much was obvious.

Against an army of beasts that vastly out levelled most of the city, it was the only natural result. Somehow, they had held on. Or, perhaps, the death of the city had been drawn out in a display of dominance and cruelty.

The Tyrant was a wily thing. Every time it commanded a push, it had some new surprise for them. Some collection of undeniable threats that forced every real power in the city to react. Then, just as the walls started to buckle, as good men and women lay down their lives in droves, it pulled back — giving them time to lick their wounds.

Fyfen sighed, running his hands through his greasy hair. His green doublet, once shining and bright, was stained brown. Dirt and dried blood, no doubt.

“We’re at our limit. Our forces are exhausted and stretched thin. Every push we lose more, and greater numbers are injured. With the state of our medical camps and alchemical supplies, we’re going to take more losses. It’ll all start crumbling from there.”

The captain of the guard scowled, his jaw covered in thick grey stubble. “Surely not. My men have never gained so many levels — that strength has to mean something.”

“It’s not enough. There’s too many beasts, and the average discrepancy is still too great. The walls help, but the second we suffer a true breach…” Fyfen trailed off.

Kaius grit his teeth, unable to disagree. Even for him, the last few days had been beneficial. Skill levels had come in droves, and everyone on his team was nearing their next class skill evolution.

Not that it helped against a damn army.

Even his Refinement had barely changed anything. His Authority was sturdier — sturdy enough that he could comfortably overwhelm his teammates' influence when they’d had the opportunity to test it. That was hardly a decisive factor. Sure, he’d noticed the difference in his individual fights, but a single fight wouldn’t change the tide of the siege.

Not yet, at least. He’d hoped that his advancement would prompt the Tyrant to action, given its fascination with essence, but he hadn’t been so lucky. Not even his teammates reaching the cusp of their own refinements had tempted it.

If only the Tyrant would show its blasted face!

“It’s testing us, it has to be,” he muttered.

Hanrick shook his head. “How can we be sure? We face a slow death. I don’t fancy pinning everything on supposition.”

“The boy’s right, it’s the only thing that makes sense. We must remember this thing came with the phase change — by the system's own words it is a challenge. It’s been seeing if we can endure, I’m sure of it.” Rieker insisted.

“You’ve been saying that for days!” Hanrick yelled, leaning forward to slam his fist on the table. “We have seen nothing but fighting and death! You heard Fyfen, we’re on the edge of a total rout! We must prepare to tunnel for safety. We have the earth mages, it’s our only chance!”

“And then like foxes, they will follow and feast on our innards. A tunnel is suicide.” Porkchop growled.

“Then what would you suggest? More waiting, in the vain hope that the Tyrant will offer itself to you?”

“Yes,” Ro replied, butting in. “Even if we are wrong, trying to hold the walls is our best bet. If we are right, something will change soon — so far it has always backed off at the last moment. It has tested the rank and file, but it hasn’t pushed our elites to the limit — not truly.”

A low grumble spread through the room, and Kaius watched the guard captain’s jaw clench. The man was going to say something.

He suppressed the urge to sigh, hoping their discussion would end soon. Better the weight of his sword in hand, and the sting of wounds on his skin than more of this.

….

The boundless night shone through a gap in the trees, subtle starlight gleaming on Her carapace. Huddled low under the boughs of a tree, She paid it no more attention than the thousands of other sights that crossed through Her lidless eyes.

Sight beyond sight, knowledge beyond knowledge. The smallest of the bounties that the highest of powers had granted Her.

All around Her, the agents of Her duty wandered. Directed to Purpose, their alms were welcome. Bone crunched, coming with a rush of sweet power.

Her mandibles quivered with joy, beautifully melded carapace and scales grinding sonorously as needle-fangs were bared. Such joy, to see her sacred duty enacted! It had always been clear that it would bring Her a wholeness otherwise unfathomable, but to experience it in truth!

Under Her will and capability had unshaped stone been knapped into killing spears. Weakness cast off, sloth banished, cursed illusions of safety forgotten. No longer would those meandering dreamers dare to profane the right way of things.

She was close. Not much more. Those closest to the Truth had already been tested. Now only one barrier stood between Her and the holy fulfilment of her being.

A single pocket of rot. A dense seed of unworked ore, in need of the refining purity of fire. They thought it hidden — closed off behind barriers of steel and artifice. Soon they would know of their folly. All would learn to savour the lordly gifts they had been granted. No longer would they languish in mediocrity, no longer would they flounder.

They would strive! Or they would die.

Only then would she relish in sacred Challenge, and whet her appetite with youthful embers.

She chittered, listening to the soft grind of crushed stone through three sets of distant ears.

….

Niles hated the strange stone of the tunnels. Harder than granite, it pulled at the heat of his core like it possessed malevolent will.

They were deep beneath the earth — too deep. He didn’t like thinking about the sheer volume of stone above his head. It wasn't right, people were meant for the open air.

At least he wasn’t in the main chamber. That central dome was packed. As enormous as it was, there were still too many seeking shelter for it to fit all of them. At least, while maintaining enough room for their defenders to move around. He was in one of the many tunnels that ran off of it, with thick steel doors sealing them into separate sections.

Walking through that dome had been odd. Even in the middle of the scrum, he’d been able to tell how barren it was. Other than a large, faint circle etched into its centre, there had been nothing. Why build to that scale, just for an empty room?

Maybe the ancients had used it for the same purpose they were. He hoped the cold stone wouldn’t end up becoming his tomb as well.

Pressing his back up tight to the wall, Niles pulled his cloak in tight around him. He felt like a pig in a slaughter house. Penned in. Restrained. Unable to escape.

A bare handspan in front of him, an old man coughed. The jerk of the motion startled the oversized cat the man had with him. The beast sat up, letting out a questioning yowl that drew nervous looks from all who sat nearby.

“Shhh, Yan, I’m alright — just a bit of dust in the air.” the man muttered, soothing his beast.

Niles bit back the urge to scowl. Who brought a pet with them to an emergency shelter, let alone a beast? Who knew if the madness that had infected the creatures above would spread. Gods, he wished that he didn’t have to sit right next to the thing. He knew the man had some sort of bond skill, but still.

He settled for eying it warily while he focused on the comforting weight at his hip. There was no way he’d let that beast catch him by surprise.

Not that he had anywhere to go. With the solid steel doors of the tunnels shut, their section was half-packed with bodies. They’d clustered in tight — trying to give as much room to their defenders as they could.

It felt unlikely that they’d be much help if his section was breached. Two Bronze teams? Against Steel beasts? They’d be nothing more than an appetiser before the main course. Besides, if they were down here, and not up there where the real fighting was, they couldn’t be all that skilled.

Hells, they’d probably volunteered.

His gut clenched tight — old instincts alert and weary. Something was going to go wrong, he knew it. It was an itch in his bones. There was no way in all of the forsaken hells that he would be caught lacking. Not after his fate had so suddenly turned.

Under his cloak, Niles reached for the hilt of the sword digging into his hip. His sword. An honest to the gods artefact. His.

It didn’t feel real. Nor did the skill that pulsed through his body as he wrapped his hand around its leather hilt. Vesryn Blade Drills.

He couldn’t even remember why he’d been in that alley. All he knew was that it had been the moment his life changed. Gifts beyond imagination thrown at his feet, followed by a job? One that came with training — one that had led to him getting a bloody legacy?

It was quite literally almost impossible to believe.

Niles refused to waste it. He refused to die in these tunnels — no cost was too much to secure himself an edge.

Leather squeaked under the force of his grip as he drew his blade slowly. Not by much, just enough to bare a handspan of gleaming, quality steel.

Ever so slowly, he reached down. There was no point in alerting anyone, they’d only panic. Cold steel stung his palm.

It bloomed hot and loud as he gripped tighter, skin splitting as his blade kissed the bones in his palm.

He released, gritting his teeth to stop himself from gasping. Not too deep, that was good. He couldn’t waste his health, not when he needed it so dearly. A tenth, nothing more.

Feeling the blood drip from his palm, Niles grabbed a hidden edge of his cloak — letting the thick wool soak away the blood.

Health roared into the wound, a raging torrent compared to the trickle he’d known only weeks ago. The wound sealed quickly, bringing with it the much welcome chimes of system notifications.

*Ding! Lesser Regeneration has reached level 3!*

*Ding! Constitution has grown to 20!*

Niles smiled. Finally.

He needed every advantage, every bit of safety he could get. He’d already lost everything once, he refused to let it happen again.

Breathing slowly to ease his racing heart, he leaned back into the cold stone of the tunnel.

And felt a soft thump resonate through the wall.

A/N: Soz, slept through my alarm. On the upside, I finished writing B4 yesterday! Finally get to write about some different fucking cities, oh my god. You guys will get to see the end in a roughly 3 weeks.

2026-01-29 22:40:07 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 503: Ashen City, Finale

Kaius was more than experienced with the many varied ways in which growing stronger could be unpleasant.

Refinement was up there, though perhaps a little more tolerable than the years of agony it took to merge Rapid Adaptation, and the sensation of having his entire being melt when Brotherhood of Ichor and Animus had changed him.

The second he accepted the system’s prompt, his Aspects exploded. Every iota of essence that he had fed to his pillars, every scrap of power that he had forced to flow through his triumvirate, all of it.

One second, he was sitting focused, his entire attention directed inwards. The next, he was swept away in a tide of agony. It was like having every scrap of arcane power from the imperial mainframe injected into his veins.

His aspects might have been metaphysical, but the wave of shards that rocked through his soul cut him as easily as glass. From the point they once hung above his soul, a shockwave of energy expanded — scouring him from his deepest, most internal self.

Kaius gasped, lurching upright before he flopped back.

“Kaius!”

Nigh insensate, he couldn’t make out who had called his name, let alone respond.

Essence tore through him, attacking everything it touched. Lancing at his soul, it expanded and breached the edges of his soulspace.

Now in his body, it reigned with terror. Shudders wracked his body as his muscles seized, tearing sensations overwhelming him in a wave. His blood curdled, incapable of withstanding the simple superiority of the energy that suffused them.

Barely managing shallow gasps, Kaius grit his teeth as his gums wept blood. This wasn’t the end. No matter how destructive, he refused to believe that he’d made a mistake. He’d followed the system’s guidance to the letter.

Whatever was happening, it was a necessary step. No warrior was born in a cocoon of silk — blood and fire had always been his womb.

A single shudder wracked his chest, followed by a terrifying stillness. Health bloomed, a maddening itch only heightening his agony as the resource desperately tried and failed to restore the damage Essence left in its wake.

Rotten roots, had his bloody heart stopped?

Kaius tried to suck in a breath, only to hit a solid wall — his lungs filled with a soup of dissolving flesh.

Forcing himself to open his eyes, he saw only a painted smear of red. There was a faint impression of movement — his team crowding over him, maybe? It was hard to focus on with his body actively dissolving.

Kaius rode out the torment knowing, hoping, that whatever was next would come soon. Maybe he’d been wrong? Maybe there were latent risks to Refinement. Some preparation he had failed to make due to lacking knowledge.

With the thought, came fear. Surely not? The information packet they had received on this step of the Path had mentioned no such thing, nor had Xenanra.

The wave of essence hit his bones. The agony of it made him twitch. A crack ran up his arm, the limb flopping to his side. There was no more pain — he wasn’t sure if there could be more pain.

Gods’ scorn, the pain was nothing — it was the feeling of his body betraying him that tore him to the core. He should have been gasping. His heart should be pounding in his chest. There was nothing — no image he could focus on. Not even a sound, that too washed away as sticky heat trickled from his ears.

Even those worries fled as the essence reached his head. Unknowable colours flashed through his mind's eye, and his thoughts blurred, leaving only the most basal awareness behind.

Time became meaningless.

The system stepped in.

Suddenly he was back, a witness to essence being chained by an alien power. Step by step, he was reborn. Bones remoulded, blood pumped hot, and his breath came in a violent gasp as his nerves screamed once more.

“If you don’t answer me right now, I’m going to drag you to the hospital between my teeth!” Porkchop’s voice sounded loud in his mind, full of panic and frustration.

“I’m. Okay,” he squeezed out, “Getting. Better. Part of it, I think.”

After that, he pushed away his friends’ pleas — he needed to understand what was being done to him.

Everywhere the System touched, his body was remoulded. It wasn’t stronger — not like the rebirth he had experienced during his ascent to the second tier. There was a little of that, but it felt fractional.

No, instead it felt like an acclimation. The System didn’t remove all of his Essence. Traces remained, coursing through his flesh as they slowly dissipated into nothing. Unlike earlier, there was no pain. He’d grown tolerant of the violence of its presence. More than that, he could sense it with a clarity that he’d never been able to before. It felt like it was his — an ownership that could never be revoked without his will.

Once his body was reforged, his attention dipped inwards — to his soul. There, the reclaimed essence grew brighter as it was compacted. Bit by bit, the System separated the glowing cloud into three distinct forms.

Pillars.

One second, there was nothing. The next, he felt a crunch.

His Aspects stood proud and tall once more, their previous murky grey replaced by a shining white.

*Ding! Refinement Completed! Alabaster Foundation achieved!*

*Ding! Moderate Feat of Strength performed under Observation. You have been awarded an Honour: Trailblazer III*

Kaius took a deep, shaking breath as the process finished. It turned into a splutter, bloody remnants of his tribulation splattering into his lap. He blinked, only to realise his eyes were pasted over.

“Hells,” he said, wiping his eyes. It only smeared the blood.

“Here,” Ianmus replied, pressing a wet cloth into his hand.

He wiped at his face, staring at the shock of red that soaked the rag. His friends were clustered in close, their faces a shared mirror of concern.

“What in the fuck was that?” Kenva said, standing up and placing her hands on her hips.

“Refinement? I didn’t quite expect it to be that bad, but I'm fine now — better than fine, really,” He adjusted in his seat, only to realise the entire thing was saturated with his own bodily fluid. “Gross. I need to wash off his blood, I'll explain what I can while I do.”

He’d long since lost any shame about being in his small clothes in front of his team.

Hurrying to the washroom, Kaius turned on a spigot and practically dove under the stream of water. It was a wide room — tiled, with a wide bench that dominated one wall and a series of taps above them.

Scrubbing at the buckle of his armour, he slowly disrobed — a steady stream of brown and red running into a nearby drain. As he worked, he walked his team through what he had experienced — the detonation of his pillars, the dissolution, and the rebirth. All of it.

Listening to his story, Ianmus slumped onto the washroom’s bench. “So, it’s an experience we’ll all have to go through, then. It sounds…unpleasant.”

Kaius grinned, his teeth still stained bloody. “Oh gods, is it. Worth it though — I got the next Trailblazer honour.”

His team stilled, before similar hungry smiles spilled across their faces.

“We best hurry up then, don’t want others to steal our thunder now, do we?” Kenva said, removing her armoured jacket to scrub at the embedded grime under another tap.

“What about the Refinement’s effects? I know you said it felt Essence focused, but have you checked the system description?”

Kaius shook his head. “No, but I will soon. Now that I'm not distracted, I thought it best we discuss our current situation.”

“The Tyrant,” Ianmus said glumly.

“The Tyrant,” Kaius agreed. “It’s up to something. It’s a threat created by the System, and has something to do with essence. Plus, we know it's fond of direct challenges, based on Dross’s experience. I think we should be ready to face it head on, soon.”

“You don’t think it’s going to attack the city again?”

Kaius hesitated. The guards and defenders of the city had survived. Today had been a meat grinder, and every man and woman who still breathed had come out the other end stronger for it. They’d been forced to grapple with monsters beyond their capability — it was exactly the sort of thing that aligned with the Integration. At least, it did with his limited understanding of what the system was aiming for.

He had no doubt that no one who’d lived through tonight would treat safety as a given ever again. That, and there would be those that learned they could face creatures as strong or stronger than them and succeed. If the Tyrant had been trying to nurture warriors with some sort of twisted care, it might have succeeded.

But would it stop?

“I don’t know. If it is a challenge, like we suspect, then it might not yet be done. We might have to persist through a few waves before it comes for us. We just have to be ready when it does,” he finally said.

“What else can we do? We’re already on alert, it’s not like we can magically get stronger just because we wish it so.”

“We need to stay close — no doubt if Rieker has the same suspicions, it’ll come up in tomorrow's meeting. I want us to stick together as a team — if the Tyrant is really sending targeted threats to occupy us and the other elites, us acting as a single unit will not make too much of a difference for the defence.”

Kenva paused, thinking for a moment. “I’m happy to move together, but I think Ianmus and I should really focus on those fliers. They were lethal. Without us, some of the more dangerous ones will be able to run amok.”

“That’s fine — I just want us close enough to be able to support each other if anything happens. As long as we can push for it in the meeting, I'm happy.”

Kaius knew that it would be something of a hindrance for the defence. That pulling Ianmus and Kenva from such a high vantage point would limit their ability to leverage their strength. He couldn’t get the image of them being attacked by the Tyrant from his mind.

He felt responsibility for the people of Deadacre, but this was his team. Losing them might just damn near kill him, especially if it was because he wasn’t there to help them.

Shaking his head, Kaius banished the thought. He wouldn’t let it happen.

“I’m going to check these notifications — best we know the effects of Refinement in case it's beneficial for the days ahead.”

Alabaster Foundation:

Aspect Refinement - First Stage

The first stage of refining your Aspects into an indomitable foundation that supports all that follows on the path, an Alabaster Foundation is a thing of fragile purity. Weakness has been excised, but cracks remain. With such a brittle thing, taking the next step will be precarious and fraught indeed. More importantly, to be satisfied with such a small victory is unsuitable for one of our oaths. Pursue further Refinements to solidify your claim as one who walks the Path, and secure your place within these walls.

As a stage of Refinement, the Alabaster Foundation begins the process of transformation that is mandatory to progress further on the path. Your existence has been remoulded, granting fractional benefits to baseline capabilities. Far more importantly, you have been inundated with essence, strengthening your connection to the energy, and the Aspects that generate it.

Infinitesimal improvement to baseline capabilities.

Minute Essence Resistance gained.

Minute improvement to Essence control and awareness.

Slight improvement to Essence generation.

Slight empowerment of Aspect abilities.

Slight improvement to Authority and Authority control.

…

Trailblazer III:

Honour

Pillars of the self, enshrining fundamental truths. Soon to be reforged in platinum flames so that they may support the foundation of all that will come.

Awarded to the first twenty to Refine their Aspects in a given cohort. Provides a Moderate decrease to the difficulty of further stages of Refinement. +5 all stats, +3% all stats.

Bonus: For being in the first five of your cohort to achieve this Honour the stat bonus is increased to +8 all stats, +4% all stats

Kaius blinked as he read the description of his latest Honour. It was bizarre: a total departure from the progression of every other honour he had received.

“Huh.”

“What? Something weird about refinement?” Porkchop asked.

“No, not that,” Kaius replied with a shake of his head, “It’s the Honour — Trailblazer III. The progression’s strange. It’s… Easier to achieve. First twenty to refine, instead of first five. Same with the bonus, it’s first five instead of first.”

His friends went quiet at his explanation, mulling over the change. Kaius found it almost hard to believe — an Honour? Getting easier to acquire?

“Maybe it’s unique to Trailblazer — or at least to Honours relating to eventual Ascension,” Ianmus said, breaking the silence. “It would make some sort of sense. Nurturing ascendants is one of the System’s major goals, and the Path is supposed to be a devilishly difficult endeavour.”

Kaius nodded his head slowly. It didn’t feel like a complete picture though. “Why such a radical divergence though? All of our other Honours grow more difficult to complete, but the bonuses and requirements are just as restrictive as ever.”

“Bah, it is not so strange. Those of the greatest potential are always given the most favourable hunting grounds in the dens. If the system wants ascendants, it will have greater reason to encourage those who are growing close. I would not be surprised if later steps of the path have guaranteed Honours.”

That was more than possible, perhaps even likely. Someone could forge their aspects and reach refinement without ever achieving an Honour — perhaps it was partly a reward, and partly a prompt to encourage those on the Path to pursue other advantages.

The wet slap of sodden leather on tile drew Kaius’s attention. Kenva had tossed her jacket to the side, and had started scrubbing her boots. She grinned at them.

“Regardless of why, this is a good thing — it means the rest of us have a much better chance of achieving the same Honour before someone beats us to the punch.”

“Too right,” Kaius replied with a sigh, leaning back under the running water to scrub at his matted hair.

As the warm heat washed over him, Kaius pulled up his status.

Status:

Name: Kaius

Dynasty: Unterstern

Age: 20

Race: Human (Dynastic, Greater Beastblooded) - +1 Con, Str, Wil, and free stats per level

Layer Reached: 29

Class: Runeblade Hellion - +6 Int; +4 Con, Str, Wil; +2 Vit, Dex per level

Level: 228

Resources:

Health - 7,469/15,860 (96/min)

Stamina - 6,935/15,690 (109.9/min)

Mana - 1,270/19,760 (139/min)

Free Mana - 1,020/17,850

Reserved Mana - 250

Stats:

Constitution - 1586 (770 + 142 + 74%)

Vitality - 960 (410 + 142 + 74%)

Strength - 1569 (760 + 142 + 74%)

Dexterity - 1099 (490 + 142 + 74%)

Intelligence - 1976 (868 + 172 + 90%)

Willpower: - 1390 (560 + 172 + 90%)

Stat Points: 0

Aspects:

Pillar Corporus: The Struggler’s Madness

Reinforcement: Titan’s Marrow
Seed: Forged in Endless Strife

Pillar Mentis: The Veteran’s Edge

Reinforcement: Glass Mind
Seed: Campaigner’s Reason

Pillar Animus: The Ceaseless Warrior

Reinforcement: Purity of Self
Seed: Hardened by Life

Refinement:

Alabaster Foundation

Class Skills (10/10):

Infused Glyph of Drakthar (Heroic) - 235

Hellblade Investiture (Heroic) - 205

Latent Glyph of Aelina (Heroic) - 200

Mystic’s Rend (Heroic) - 200

Latent Glyph of Vyrthane (Heroic) - 195

Sigil of Vesryn’s Pact (Unique) - 200

Latent Glyph of Eirnith (Heroic) - 192

Mercurial Reversal (Unique) - 176

Runeblade Hymnfocus (Heroic) - 135

Latent Glyph of Muthryn, Throat of VOS (Heroic) - 120

General Skills (10/10):

Rapid Adaptation (Heroic) - 212

Liturgical Bladeform: Primus Ordo (Heroic) - 234

Sergeant’s Insight (Unique) - 221

Tempered by Dissonance (Heroic) - 211

Truesight (Unique) - 220

Tonal Weaving (Unique) - 213

Spellblade’s Harmonic Control (Heroic) - 219

Greater Regeneration (Heroic) - 223

Moment of Flow (Heroic) - 213

Brotherhood of Ichor and Animus (Heroic) - 208

Hymnbook:

Glyph of Drakthar -

Stormlash (Tier I - 120 mana)
Hateful Nail (Tier I - 100 mana)
Starfall (Tier II - 2000 mana)

Glyph of Aelina -

Yellia’s Slip Step (Tier I - 80 mana)
Trusant’s Expedient Shunt (Tier I - 100 mana)

Glyph of Vyrthane -

Warhaven (Tier I - 1000 mana)
Bound Maelstrom (Tier I - 200)

Glyph of Eirnith -

Zone of Discombobulation (Tier I - 300 mana)
Compel Obsession (Tier I - 350)

Glyph of Muthryn -

Redoubt of the Speaker (Tier I - Variable)

Formationbook:

Sigil of Vesryn’s Pact -

Unbroken Through Suffering (Tier I)

Honours:

Born for Slaughter (Bonus)

Sublime Prodigy - Glyph Binding (Bonus)

Birds of a Blood Soaked Feather (Bonus)

Persistent Survivor (Minor) (Bonus)

Kingslayer (Major) (Bonus)

Ruthless Underdog (Bonus)

Ruthless Underdog II

Trailblazer II (Bonus)

Hordebreaker

Ruthless Underdog III (Bonus)

Persistent Survivor IV (Minor) (Bonus)

Paragon (Major) (Bonus)

Daring Challenger (Minor)

Triarch (Bonus)

The Wheel Turns

The Paver Of Ways (Bonus)

Hordebreaker II

Massacre II

When Killers Meet

The Mighty Stand Alone

Spellchain II (Bonus)

Trailblazer III (Bonus)

Bound Artefacts:

A Father’s Gift - Growth Longsword (Epic, T1)

Continue Tempering for Growth Conditions!

A/N:damn this status thing is getting big lmao

2026-01-28 21:47:24 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 502: Ashen City, pt. 2

The devastation Kaius had witnessed at the eastern gate followed him as Kenva led their team further into the city.

Oh, it wasn’t as severe. Most of the structures by the wall had been leveled — leaving little more than rubble and foundations. Blocks away, the buildings still largely stood, but not unscathed. The ubiquitous smog of fire and ash hung like a funerary shroud over Deadacre.

It hid little to his Truesight. Terraced houses, once the proud homes of the working men of the city, were slumped and browbeaten. They stood, barely, but only by the supporting presence of their neighbours propping them up.

Roofs had collapsed, rubble was strewn in the streets, and everywhere he looked he could see the evidence of death.

A twisted wing, hanging out of a broken window. The gutted corpse of a wolf being dragged behind a team of half a dozen men. Pale faced guards carried on stretchers as medics sprinted for the hospitals that had been set up in the centre of the city.

One caught his eye. A young man, features hidden by his helm — all except for the shock of blue visible through his visor. His chest was bandaged tightly, bright carmine still weeping through the thick wrapped dressing. Pressed tightly to the wound, Kaius could see that same red oozing through his fingers.

Even with health, a lack of relevant Skills and low Vitality left many injuries deadly. They simply killed faster than they healed.

Kaius saw a flash of golden mana to his right. Ianmus.

The mage wove his Ray of Tender Recovery quickly, as he had every time they had come across the wounded — a terrifyingly frequent occurrence. The Tyrant may have given them a reprieve, but the wounds still remained to reap their due.

At his current strength, channeling a simple first tier spell was quick, only a couple of seconds. Following a short pulse of energy, a warming beam flashed across the street, smelling of lilacs and spring growth.

The guard gasped as the magic washed over him. The medics carrying the stretcher stumbled, their gaze snapping to the source of the magic as they slowed their sprint.

Kaius could see their hesitation — if their charge was healed, even enough to just barely live, they needed to leave him and find others. Triage was a pitiless thing.

Ianmus shook his head sharply, “Go! I’ve only restored his health — it does nothing for the injury!”

The lead medic nodded, and they took off at a sprint.

Again, Ianmus’s staff pulsed. Every few moments, a ray would burst from its tip. Sometimes, it moved fast — tearing straight through a gap in the crowd to splash over a prone body or limping form. Other times, it slowed to a trackable pace — curving up and over the crowd as Ianmus used Lightweaving to direct his healing to where it was needed.

The mage winced, “My mana’s dropping — my regeneration is good, but I can’t keep this up indefinitely.”

“Keep at least enough for your keyseals. Any less and you’ll be risking more lives than you’ll save now if the Tyrant returns before you can recover.” Kaius replied, the ash in the air tasting thicker than he remembered.

It was a bitter order, but one they all knew was wise. Ianmus was a competent healer, but his skills were poorly suited for something like this. Tender Recovery was swift and fast, but was only truly helpful for stabilising those rare few whose health was running dry, but would survive the trip to the hospital if they had it.

Actually treating wounds directly required him to freecast — a long and costly process. He would save far too few, and then leave them open for tragedy if an unexpected strike came. As much as it stung, it was the simple reality of the situation. No matter his or his team’s abilities, there were lives they could not save. An unavoidable cost in blood and breath.

Every broken home and twisted body they passed hammered it in deeper. It was a bitter nail, driven so deep he could feel it pricking at his heart.

The agony it brought only inflamed his fire. His aspects had been burning bright ever since his confrontation with the nightscale. Rather than simmer and still, they had grown hotter. A fierce conflagration that towered within him as essence surged.

Long before rising to Silver, he’d known there was a certain responsibility that came with prominence and capability. People looked to you for guidance, stability, and certainty. Often, for the most dire and needed of tasks, you would be one of the few capable of responding to the call.

Today, he had learned that those expectations came with a terrible weight. It was no yoke — no chain of expectations that forced him to act against his own wishes. No, that would have been far more tolerable.

It was the anchor of inadequacy. The burden of failure.

All he had achieved, every scrap of strength he had scrounged, hadn’t been enough. One man couldn’t turn an army. He couldn’t stop the fires, the destruction, the death. It burned all the worse for the fact that no one expected him to.

Right this very moment, he could see a dozen sets of eyes staring at him and his team. Warriors who’d been battered and broken, who’d fought and died in droves to protect their homes. People, who’d been thrown into the charnel house, and survived all the stronger for it.

Yet there was no recrimination in their eyes. They looked at him, and they stood tall. Jaws hardened, shaking breaths grew deep and smooth, and quaking hands stilled.

They didn’t care that he hadn’t saved them. They cared that he had stood and fought, that he would fight.

How could he collapse under the weight of the dead, when the living still begged him to be tall and unbroken?

He refused to bow. Never had he crumbled before fear, never had he faltered, simply because death lurked in the uncertain future. He knew himself — through tribulation he had found deep in an Ascendant’s lair, that much was certain. He could not save everyone. So be it.

That failure was only more fuel for the fire.

Almost unconsciously, Kaius started to cycle. It was rote now, a weaving of essence through his pillars. Already, he was at a precipice. Each rotation was slow, his pillars so saturated with essence that they struggled to take more in.

His need was great, so he shoveled more in any way.

Every lost soul and every desperate stare only urged the flames higher, and his cycling swifter.

For now, it required little of his attention. It was hard to tell when it had happened, but the cycle of energy had grown familiar. A groove had been cut, and energy flowed through the path that had been made for it.

He knew that would change soon. His true breakthrough would require focus, but he wasn’t there yet. Not quite. He let the pressure build, staying steadfast in his course.

Porkchop gave him a sharp look, likely sensing the violent activity within his soul.

Kaius shook his head softly. “Soon,”

Porkchop gave him a nod, before switching attention to Kenva at their head.

“What happened at the end of the assault? We couldn’t exactly see much, but Rieker made it sound like it was rather intense.”

Kenva sighed and shook her head, gesturing that they should take the next right as she lead them to where they could rest.

“It was madness. The Tyrant put a lot into that final attack, it wasn’t just the nightscale. Some horned thing as large as a house made a breach to the north, while a pack of Silvers leapt over the wall to the south. We got hit hard too — nothing extravagant, but a full flock of high Steels seemed hellbent on keeping us and the mages from helping out the wall.”

Half-distracted by the building heat within him, Kaius frowned. “Sounds like it was trying to tie up our elites.”

“It was, I'm sure of it,” Ianmus replied, another flash of light cutting through the street from his staff, “Whatever suspicions you and Porkchop have, I'm almost certain that I share them. The wall was hit hard, but right when it looked like we were going to be overrun. It could have been a coincidence. The nightscale and the pack Arc and Ro were dealing with fell at almost the same time, but it felt far too targeted.”

“Lets hold off on that for a moment, there’s our inn.” Kenva replied, nodding to a building halfway down the street — the inn Ro had commandeered.

It was relatively untouched by the devastation that had spread through the city. A few broken windows, and the awning over its door had been smashed, but other than that it was standing strong — the only fire present glowing gold in its hearth. Even its sign still remained — the Plucked Hen

Some of that would have been how far they were from the walls, but most would have been luck. More than a few other buildings on the street had suffered far more.

Porkchop shrunk using his natural magic. His shoulder level with Kaius, he fit through the door. Just.

Hurrying in, they found a dozen defenders bustling through the common room. At its centre, five tables had been pulled together. A familiar man sat at its head. Fyfen, the governor's chamberlain. The man was barking orders, leafing through reports.

“Ah, you’re here. Good.” Fyfen said, looking up at them as the door swung shut behind them. “Take the top floor, it’s a suite that’s large enough for the four of you. We have a command meeting in the morning, so get whatever rest you can.”

“You don’t need help?” Kaius asked, eying the bustle in the room.

“I’ll be fine — I’m not the one that’s been fighting all night.”

Kaius didn’t press the issue — not when his pillars felt so full of essence that they were about to burst. All he needed was a little more.

Hurrying upstairs, he barely paid attention to the state of their rooms. All he did was rush straight to a plush leather chair sat next to their private common room’s fire and collapse into it.

His team followed.

“The Tyrant’s testing us, isn’t it?” Ianmus said, taking a seat at Kaius’s right. “We passed some bullshit challenge, and it pulled back to give us some breathing room. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”

“That’s what we think too — Rieker does as well.”

“That’s just great,” Kenva replied, “What does it want though — and when’s it coming for us? Dross made it damn clear that it’s got some kind of fascination with essence.”

She looked at Kaius for comment, only to pause and narrow her eyes. “Why are you so quiet?”

Kaius clenched his jaw, focused on the sensation of pressure within. Just a little more…

He forced another revolution of his essence. With it packed so densely into his aspects, it was almost impossible to retain the state of automatic cycling he’d achieved earlier.

One, final mote drifted in.

He felt a click, followed by a tremor that shuddered through all three of his Aspects. It grew in intensity, a chiming resonance that began to build — one joined by the familiar tone of a system notification.

*Ding! Sufficient Essence Saturation of Aspects Achieved! Begin Refinement?*

Kaius grinned. It was a bloody thing, all teeth and hunger. Regardless of when the Tyrant came. He would be ready, and he intended to pay back the blood debt it had wrought.

“I’m about to refine,” he replied.

Ignoring his team's surprise, he closed his eyes, and shifted his will to the notification.

Yes.

2026-01-27 21:34:23 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 501: Ashen City, pt. 1

As the searing heat of Ianmus’s spell faded, Kaius looked down at the corpse of the nightscale as he sucked in heaving breaths.

Ianmus’s voice sounded in his ear.

“Forsaken hells, at least it's dead. We’ll leave you to it — it’s a madhouse up here.”

“Thanks for the help,” he replied, still watching the dead beast.

It hadn’t been his most dangerous fight, not by far, but it had been strenuous and stressful all the same. Fighting without his spells had been…frustrating, and the absence of his backline had only highlighted the advantage of having powerful allies to support him at range.

With time, he knew that they could have worn the beast down — they’d been hurting it more than it had hurt them. He was no stranger to battles of attrition. In their most recent delve, almost all of the Champions and Guardians they’d fought had been taken down in such a manner.

They hadn't been able to afford it. There were a thousand other battles he needed to take part in.

Fires raged through the city. They threw off a flickering light that twisted and warped through smoke and dust, blanketing the city in a smouldering miasma. Mixed with the roars of beasts, and the distant cries of injured warriors, it was a hellish scene.

Like he’d been transported into some twisted nightmare.

Kaius looked up, seeing the turbulent cloud of flying beasts cutting through the night. Every few moments, there was a flash of light. Skills creating temporary beacons in the sky.

Just as many of them came from the beasts themselves as the bombardment of his fellow defenders.

Kaius grit his teeth. He had to get back to the walls.

Yet before he could look away, the cloud of creatures surged. It was sudden; cohesive. An unnatural unity as they took flight to the east. Away from the city — back whence they had come.

The constant hammering he heard from the walls stopped in the same moment, leaving a bare few pained growls, and the distant sound of isolated battles within the city walls.

“What’s happening?” Kaius hissed.

“Looks like a retreat to me.”

“But why?”

It made no sense. The Tyrant’s horde was enormous. Even well defended within the walls, they were being pressed. If it kept the pressure up, they would inevitably be worn down as their forces grew fatigued and Resources dwindled.

“Gods only know,” Rieker replied, “It could be we dealt a blow by killing the nightscale — perhaps this entire push was merely a front to strike for our centre. Nor was it the only high Silver that struck. There were even a couple golds. Ro and Arc were dealing with one to the south, and I took one down with the help of Dros and the earth mages north of here. Regardless, we can't celebrate yet — wait for the bells.”

“We should head to the eastern gate then, the fighting was thickest there. They might need our help.”

Rieker nodded.

As a group, they set off. Cutting through the square, and running through the city streets, Kaius’s mind raced.

Every block they travelled, he heard less and less ongoing fights — everything pointed to the army pulling back. Could they really have struck a heavy enough blow that the Tyrant was reconsidering its approach.

It felt wrong. Everything he’d seen of the creature spoke of wanton violence. Intelligent, yes — but wanton and cruel. It could have just ground them down — better than letting them rest after their surviving defenders had likely gained levels and strength.

A sudden thought drew a frown on Kaius’s face. Could it have been giving them a reprieve on purpose? The system itself had spawned Tyrants as part of the next stage of the integration. From the mouths of Ascendants themselves, he knew that a major purpose of the integration was to force growth.

That growth came with a bloody toll, but it was the system's goal. No one, not even people like him and his team could stand up to an entire army. The Tyrant was a challenge, one he was certain was directed at people like him. Hells, it sounded like it had almost let Bronwyn and his team go before it had sensed some trace of essence on them.

Could this entire invasion merely have been a prelude? A filter, to bloody the nose of Deadacre, and feed its warriors if they proved themselves stalwart enough to withstand its advance?

A reminder to all that they needed to struggle to survive?

Mulling over his thoughts, a churn set into his belly. It felt needless. A cruelty that extended beyond the Tyrant itself to the machinations of the System. How could the gathering and growth of Ascendant’s be so vital that it would kill uncounted simply to squeeze out a few more?

The Depths and even the Crucibles were lethal, sure, but they were just there. You sought them out, because you hungered for something — wealth, strength, a fight: something you held dearly enough to risk your life for.

Even the world, for all it was full of dangers, was a natural thing. The system might have empowered beasts, but they were alive. Things of natural wants, instincts, and desires. Brutal, but not cruel.

The Tyrant was Death, and it sought to spread its gifts.

It felt blasphemous to question the highest power he knew, but what else could he do after all he had seen in the last few days?

Kaius clenched his jaw, focusing on his steps as the streets slid by. Far to his left, he saw the defenders on the wall slowly move — some moving to the stairs down, aiding the wounded. Far, far too many of those being carried were too still. Too limp. A bloody toll indeed.

He had to be wrong — there had to be some reason. Some desperate need for Ascendants, or some unavoidable reality of wider existence that it was trying to prepare them for. It was the system: unassailable in both its influence and its impartiality.

Bells tolled, each tone ringing long and mournful from deep within the city. They came from the central temple to the gods. Normally they rang like that in celebration. He supposed in a sense that it was — it was their signal that the beasts were pulling back in truth. Somehow, it didn’t feel like a victory.

A simple reprieve, nothing more.

Rieker looked towards the city centre, “So they’ve truly left. Come, we should rejoin the others. We need to take this opportunity to restore out strength as much as possible — who knows how long this will last.”

“We’ll be ready.”

“I think we should be prepared to face the Tyrant,” Kaius replied grimly. “Some sort of challenge, just like it offered Bronwyn and his team.”

“Aye, I thought of that,” Rieker said with a clipped nod, “All the more reason to rest. Regardless, even if that happens, there will be more to the battle.”

Kaius gave him a sharp look. Surely if they bested the Tyrant, the matter would be done with.

“The beast’s, boy. What do you think will happen when its control slips, and thousands of beasts find themselves surrounded by natural predators and dire rivals? When Silver, or even Gold creatures find themselves displaced from their territories, and try to set secure hunting grounds around Deadacre? We’ll be dealing with the effects of this madness for a while yet, no matter what tomorrow brings.”

Kaius didn’t have a response for the man. Rieker’s words rested on him heavily.

Regardless, he hoped that the Tyrant would challenge him. The creature had wracked up a blood debt that he intended to collect. It had sown death, so he intended to let it reap it in kind.

The very thought of burying his blade in the belly of the creature scoured him from within, a hearty burn that outshone some of his tired frustration.

….

Devastation waited at the eastern gate. Rieker had already left them, hurrying on ahead to help direct their gathered forces — though not before insisting that they rest.

A heavy thought, given what lay around them.

The walls, once sturdy icons of Deadacre’s sovereignty, were battered. The great stone blocks were cracked, parapets had been torn free, and there was more than one chunk that had been wholesale destroyed on the wall's upper edge. There was only so much the defensive enchantments could do. They only helped distribute blows — not negate them. Plus, it wasn’t like Deadacre had some sort of rare masterwork protecting it. The enchantment had barely lasted an hour before burning out.

No doubt the runewrights he’d met were hard at work fixing it already.

Worse was the blood. Great, red streaks that ran down the defenses. Kaius could only desperately hope that most of it was from the Tyrant’s forces.

Rubble and flame littered the streets, the only reminders of shattered homes and crushed dreams. What buildings still stood were hollow skeletons, their walls and roofs collapsed inwards.

All he could smell was ash and iron.

Bodies were everywhere. Mostly beasts, thank the gods — but his eyes were too sharp to miss the twisted and still forms that lay scattered through the chaos. Surviving defenders picked through the wreckage, a sea of pale faces. Some had faces twisted by anger. Some embraced their fellows fighting against the madness with sudden joy for their continued life. Some wailed, collapsed over the torn bodies of friends.

Most looked hollow.

He tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade as his smouldering aspects pulsed.

“Gods’ scorn, I can’t wait to get my hands on that Tyrant.” Kaius said to Porkchop privately as his gaze lingered on a set of legs jutting out of a collapsed building. They were twisted. Broken, without sign of regeneration.

Porkchop grunted, frustration and anger clear through their bond. “This loss is senseless — the Dens quarrel, and territory disputes in the Sea can leave many broken in their wake… but not like this. Never like this.”

“Kaius! Porkchop!” A relieved yell cut across the milling crowds, yanking at his attention.

Kenva, relief on her face as she raced towards them with Ianmus hot on her heels.

She hit him like a bolt, slamming into his chest as she wrapped him in a hug. A heartbeat later, she threw herself at Porkchop — grabbing his chest and shoulder.

Porkchop let out a snort, bending down to put his head over her shoulder, “It’s good to see you too, Kenva.”

“You have no idea how horrible it was to just watch you fight that overgrown lizard. I felt useless.”

Ianmus slowed as he arrived. Walking over, he clapped Kaius on the shoulder and gave him a smile.

“It was rather unpleasant,” the mage said, agreeing with Kenva.

“Nonsense, we would have been fighting it for far longer without your help,” Kaius said, shaking his head. “Do you know where we can go to rest? Rieker was rather insistent.”

Kenva nodded, “Ro told us she’d commandeered an inn a little west of here — she wants us close, just in case.”

Kaius nodded, waving at her to show the way. They had much to prepare for, and he wasn’t enough of a fool to say his suspicions about the Tyrant in front of so many who’d just weathered its assault.

A/N: Started replaying Control recently, though I didn't get all that deep into it the first time. Forgot how much I love that specific subgenre of bureaucracy meets cosmic horror. I really need to read 'there is no antimemetics division' one of these days.

2026-01-26 21:33:18 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 500: Nightscale, Finale

Porkchop roared as the nightscale broke into the open square. Bulwark’s Challenge hit the creature like a physical blow, yanking at its head so it had eyes only for the demon-faced creature of orichalchum that stood sentinel.

Mana whirled through his body, and flesh simmered and popped. Handspan by handspan, Porkchop swelled in size and might as the ghost of antlers sprouted just behind the horns of his helm. Normally, he was just over a stride taller than Kaius at the shoulder. Now, with his natural size-controlling magic relaxed, and empowered by his Skill, he stood a titan of twelve.

He charged, flagstones rippling like water beneath his feet.

The very sight of Porkchop’s furious momentum set Kaius’s heart blazing. With the link between their souls, his bloodsong was amplified by his brother’s own.

Blade held in a high-guard, he ran left. Porkchop’s Gladespirit was draining, but the strength it granted was prodigious — more than worthy of being the capstone skill of his first class. Kaius had full confidence the nightscale would have its hands full. It was a perfect chance for him to tear into its flank.

Even with a leaden limb, he felt like he was flying through his wide arc. He watched the nightscale like a hawk as it raged, glowing claws and snapping teeth wailing on his brother’s titanic form. Heavy plate clanked and bones creaked, but the flesh held — and punishment was responded to in kind. Jadecrash, Warden’s Maw, and the simple ferocity of orichalchum claws and teeth raked their enemy.

A limb bound in metallic crystal smashed the nightscales jaw with a crack, lurching its head to the side.

Away from Kaius.

It was the moment he was waiting for. Digging deep within himself, he flew into a full, wild, sprint.

Only for him to hear a ragged gasp of shock at the edge of the square far to his left.

A delving team — five men strong. It was obvious: they bore no banner or tabard of the guard, only the motley collection of shining artefacts that had been chosen by utility first. Those very same creations were ragged and battleworn, streaked with grime and blood, scuffed and torn, dented and scratched.

Kaius locked onto the leader. His bronze breastplate was dented, and the chain on his arm was torn and bloodsoaked. Brown hair had darkened to black, tainted through the night of chaos they had fought through. Kaius vaguely remembered his face. A Steel team, maybe.

Each and every one of them was staring at the clash with open awe. In the space between heartbeats, he watched the leader flick between the clash, and Kaius’s own charge. The man's jaw clenched, and his fingers tightened around the haft of his mace.

Kaius’s eyes narrowed. Bloody bastard was not thinking of trying to create a distraction to give them an opening, was he?

The reveal of Honours to the guild had made it obvious why he and his team were so unusually strong, but Kaius feared it might have led to some unrealistic expectations. In a fight like this, a single grievous wound was rarely a decisive factor.

He needed them gone. Before they made the fight even more chaotic.

“Back!” He screamed, frantically waving away the far off delvers. “Rieker’s already coming!”

At his sudden cry, one of the nightscales black eyes snapped to him. Great. The game had been given away.

It tensed, readying itself to strike as it saw him mere strides away. He gave the beast his full attention, refusing to leave himself open.

A flash of shadowy purple slashed for his throat. He couldn’t pull back, not so heavily committed.

A Father’s Gift arced through the air. Hastened by Mercurial Reversal, he caught the blow. Stolen force gleamed at the tip of his sword as a deep clang resonated through his weapon. It wasn’t enough. Not quite.

His neck was saved, but shadow-wrapped claws ripped into his side. A deluge of wet heat flowed as Kaius felt the familiar kiss of stinging agony. His armour was tough, second-tier scalemail, but it only blunted the strike — barely saving him from total evisceration.

It was still a grievous wound, a full slab of meat and gristle removed from his already boiling flesh. It barely slowed him.

Kaius dashed in, the initial deluge of blood already slowing to a trickle as his health went to work. The pool dropped notably, but he could handle dozens of wounds like that before he went dry.

Blue light banished the grim darkness of night. Lightning arced from his hand, wrapped in a firm grip. Once a bare thread, now it was a rope as thick as his wrist. The benefit of evolving Drakthar and having so much Intelligence.

Porkchop moved in conjunction with him, all but throwing himself into the nightscale with skill after skill. Shocked by the sudden ferocity, the creature wrapped its massive jaws around Porkchop and squeezed.

Orichalcum groaned. Porkchop did not; only raking his claws across the creature's throat — splitting its scales.

A welcoming opening, Kaius thought.

Stormlash snapped once, winding its way around the throat of the nightscale. The spell pulsed, seizing the creature's body.

Kaius dived in, blade trained on the scratch Porkchop had torn through the scales on its neck. A bloody aura of war and violence bloomed within the sword's smokey crystal edge — Hellblade Investiture fueling his viciousness.

That red reflected in the shining black of the nightscales eyes.. It tried to rip its head back; to writhe and yank as it extracted its jaws from around Porkchop. His brother had none of it, heavy arms wrapping around the lizard's neck as he cinched it in tight.

“Now! I’ve got him.”

A hair before Kaius ripped through its neck, it flicked, turning into a smokey shadow. Porkchop fell through its form, unable to maintain his grip as the nightscale went incorporeal.

Kaius plunged his blade into the shadowy mass anyway. He felt its flesh — that heavy drag of tough, wooden flesh against the edge of his blade. Waves of smoke wafted from the passage of his blade, a stride deep into the creature’s neck.

His sword’s enchantment, Ghost of Severance, cared not one whit for its Skill.

A broad smile split his face as the nightscale screamed, bellowing its agony to the night.

Freed from Porkchop’s grasp, it ripped itself backward. A shallow flicker snapped it back to physicality, quickly followed by a bright flash of mana.

Shadows clung to its form, granting the lizard a sinuous burst of speed.

Yet the creature's shock did not last for long. A high Silver always had pride, even if it was bestial. Fury twisted its features, and it lunged forward, raking the air with three of its limbs. Each claw cut a ragged gash in reality. Rifts of purple shadows hung in space, hovering a moment before blade-like beams of energy shot towards Kaius and Porkchop.

They were a storm. Dense and heavy, he knew it would be impossible to dodge — Sergeant’s Intuition and Moment of Flow made that plenty clear.

Leaping to the side, Kaius heard the air sizzle as one beam cut past him. Three more hemmed him in. Trusting in his blade, he cut.

Ephemeral magic shattered against his blade. A wash of thinner energy blew over his torso, sparking against his armour and tearing at the skin and muscle beneath.

Porkchop fared worse. Unable to dispel the skill, dense blades slammed into his armour. They seemed to sink straight through the barrier, gushes of blood welling from between the plates.

He let out a roar of pain. “Armour penetrating! Went straight through.”

Kaius could only grit his teeth, enduring his own wounds as he ran out of the remnant clouds of mana.

Kenva’s voice crackled in his ear. “Need help? I doubt it’ll be able to keep that up with a few holes in its back.”

“No!” Kaius replied quickly. “It’s got an incorporeality skill — if it’s aware of you, we might never get a chance at a deciding wound.”

Kenva let out a concerned grumble. He ignored her. They could handle this themselves.

“Push it! We can’t give it room!”

A wall of shining blades separated them from their target — they charged all the same. It was reckless, but it wasn’t like they had any other options.

Burning mana washed over him again and again, every stride they moved hard won under fire. Before they could make it half way, a sudden crack stabbed him sharply. Porkchop staggered to the side in the same instant, wheezing.

A sinuous tail snapped away, gone before they could punish the sudden attack.

This wasn’t working — they were taking too much of a beating.

Unless…

Kaius grinned. It’s incorporeality! He had never seen the creature use it in conjunction with another skill. At its level, such a skill had to take immense concentration — it would give them an opening. A small one, but a moment was all they would need to get back in its face.

Racing directly towards the closest cutting arc of mana, Kaius hacked through it. Ignoring the burn, he snapped his hand up in the midst of the smog — aiming it right at the creature's eye.

Either his plan worked, or he’d leave it half blind — both options worked just fine for him.

Light burst from his hand, a precious Nail streaming trails of smog behind it as it rocketed towards the nightscale.

Kaius held his breath.

The beast flinched, flickering into a shadowy mass. It was a sudden reprieve — the only opening they needed.

In the thick of the melee once more, they brawled. Bit by bit, they hammered the creature, happily taking wounds to carve their marks in its flesh.

Kaius was conservative with his spells — but he still spent them. A Nail to foul a joint, a Lash to give Porkchop an opening to ram his Ephemeral Phalanx into its chest, and even a rare Shunt to reposition when he absolutely had to.

It still held strong. With its size, finishing the fight alone would be a battle of attrition — they’d need to fully wear out its health. That would take far too long.

Thankfully, all they needed to do was keep the creature busy until Rieker arrived. With the three of them, they’d be able to properly tie it down for his backline.

Yet inevitably, his spells all but ran out, and as the minutes passed, there was still no sign of the guild master. It felt like an eternity. He was simply too swift, all of them were — there’d been dozens of exchanges and the hourglass still hadn’t run out. One Stormlash, that was all he had left. He saved it.

“How bloody far are you, Rieker? This is like trying to pin a greased up hog!” He yelled through his communication artefact.

“Right here!” The guildmaster roared, cutting across the square.

Kaius snapped to the side of the square.

Rieker was dressed for war. His splint mail was painted heavy with blood, and each hand bore a warhammer raised high — one burning gold, the other a deep red.

He leapt. Stone splintered. The guildmaster sailed through the night.

Registering the new threat, the nightscale roared and lurched towards Rieker's descending form.

“None of that!” Porkchop growled, a Phalanx shoving the beast back as he cracked it in the jaw.

Kaius moved in conjunction, thrusting towards the creature's throat with Hellblade Investiture. They’d give Rieker the opening he needed.

Hemmed in, the creature thrashed.

Rieker hit its back like a descending meteor. Both hammers fell, and flesh cratered. A savage crack resonated through Kaius’s chest as blood sprayed across his face.

Hissing in agony, the beast staggered. Its back two pairs of legs quivered as they struggled to hold up its weight, suddenly numb and weak. Rieker must have broken its back!

“Grab it again, Porkchop!” Kaius roared, watching the guildmaster hammer the same spot again. “Do everything you can to make it go incorporeal, we need to know if it can flicker in quick succession.”

He’d never seen the creature use it more than once every few minutes, but was that a hard limitation? For all he knew the nightscale was simply trying to avoid draining its resources, or overly straining itself.

Kaius knew Rieker would have heard, and would work towards the same goal. He didn’t know enough about the guildmaster’s abilities to ask him to do anything specific.

“Gladly.”

Porkchop lunged, wrapping his arms around its neck as he wrenched the creature's head up, baring its throat. In a repeat of his earlier move, Kaius lunged for its throat — making sure he stayed clearly in the beast’s line of sight.

The beast snapped back, sliding ephemerally out of Porkchop’s grip — though it didn’t make it far with its back limbs unresponsive. Much like every other time it had used the skill, it barely lasted a second.

It roared, fangs shining a bright white.

Rieker struck before it got the opportunity. From the flank, he dashed straight to its head — the air warping in his passage. It was a move without subtlety, one that let the nightscale see the one who had injured it so deeply was coming.

There was no flash of shadows — just a sudden, furious screech before it lunged towards Rieker with its jaws wide.

His other hammer swung up. Bone cracked; the nightscales jaw snapped shut. Rieker leapt to the side, smacking it again.

It was astounding to watch. Even preoccupied with his own assault on the creature, Kaius marveled at the guildmaster’s economy of movement, and the strength of his skills. It was plain that there was no dramatic stat difference between them any more — but Rieker had decades of experience and Skill training on them.

Another hammer blow cracked its scales.

“If it could go incorporeal quickly, it would have already.” Rieker growled.

“Pin it!” Kaius roared.

Lightning snapped forwards as he cast his final spell. The beast seized. Both of Rieker's hammers slammed into its temple with a resonant thump, a Skill dazing it further.

Porkchop pounced, his full body weight muscling its head down to the ground.

“Now, Kenva!”

“Thank the gods, my back fucking hurts from holding this.”

Gore exploded from the back of the nightscales head, chips of bone and a bloody mist ejected by a sudden expulsion of wind.

Kaius heard the sudden crack and shrill scream of its flight a moment later.

Six more shots landed, arrows punching deep into the stone surrounding the beast. Hungry tendrils ruptured from the earth, quickly finding their prey. They wrapped the nightscale tight, thorns clinging to it jealously as its legs were yanked tight to its body.

Kaius heard no ding, but he was not so green as to expect one. He rammed his blade into its eye, feeling the crunch of its orbit. The bone held, so he stuck again. As did his allies.

Far above, he saw a familiar glimmer. A burning star, drifting towards them. It was slow over such a long distance — easy to dodge.

Yet that pace belied a devastating power of destruction.

The nightscale struggled weakly, its burning vitality desperately keeping it alive despite its wounds. They hammered it, never giving it the chance to recover and break its bonds.

Ianmus’s Preeminent Halo drifted closer.

Closer.

He could feel its searing heat, building with every stride it approached.

“Back!” Kaius yelled, more for Rieker's benefit than anything else.

The spell touched home, almost gently — right on the cratered hole Kenva had left in the back of its head.

Dawn broke, even if just for a moment.

*Ding! You have slain Nightscale Elder - Level 283 Shadeborn! Experience Gained! Increased Experience for slaying a foe of significantly greater level!*

*Ding! Runeblade Helion has reached level 225 > 228!*

*+6 Int; +5 Con, Str & Will; +2 Vit & Dex; +1 Free - from Class & Racial Traits!*

More notifications waited for him — too many, the night's battle had pushed his skills hard. He’d check his full status soon, once he was somewhere calmer.

2026-01-25 21:25:50 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 499: Nightscale, pt. 4

Being chased by a lizard the size of a house had a certain way of hurrying his thinking.

Bent low over his brother’s gore-splattered back, Kaius did his best to ignore the constant roars just a few strides behind him.

It was just a tad harder to put the intermittent snaps out of mind. Thank the gods the nightscale didn’t seem to have any ranged capabilities beyond the breath attack he assumed it couldn’t easily use while sprinting.

They’d successfully driven the creature into a hot enough rage that it was ignoring the Tyrant’s direction, but now what? They had a furious beast on their tail that was managing to damage just about every bloody building they ran past.

That sort of cost was acceptable, if it actually helped put the beast down. Right now, all he could think was the dozens of people who would now be without homes. Sure, that happened in war, but Kaius still wanted to prevent it if he could.

They needed a plan. One that wouldn’t end up with them pulling city guards into the meat grinder. A beast like the nightscale would tear through them like they were made of wet tissue.

A memory shot to the forefront of his mind — one of the squares they’d passed through on their way here. It wasn’t far, maybe half a dozen or so blocks.

Snapping jaws shook him from his thoughts as humid breath rolled over the back of his neck.

Kaius jolted in his seat, lunging forwards as Porkchop lurched to the side.

That was way too close! They needed some room.

Rearing back around, Kaius summoned a Stormlash to hand. The magic crackled, pale blue light illuminating the gloom that soaked through Deadacre’s streets.

The beast screamed as lightning scorched its snout. Every muscle in its body seized for a moment. With its legs locked up, it slammed to the ground.

It only took a few seconds for the nightscale to scramble back to its feet, but it was enough for them to gain some distance — and give him some room to bloody think.

The square would give them room to fight without destroying the livelihoods of an entire neighbourhood, but it had problems of its own. Even constrained, the nightscale proved a tough nut to crack. Sure, they’d fought harder, and he had no doubt that they could eventually put the beast down.

But every second he fought this thing was another that they weren’t on the walls, supporting the guard. Every second he spent here meant more deaths. It needed to go down quick, but he didn’t have his spells, nor did they have the support of their backline.

Unless… it had dropped its invisibility.

Visualising the position of the square in his head, Kaius craned his neck towards the siege tower by the eastern gate. It was a fair distance, but he knew Ianmus and Kenva could handle it.

Keeping the nightscale occupied long enough for them to line up a devastating blow sounded much more manageable. Especially if they could recruit a bit of help — the whole reason they had been sent alone in the first place was that he was the only one who could see the damned thing.

Craning his head back, Kaius confirmed the nightscale had yet to catch up with them. If there was one thing the constant destruction of every building it passed did, it was slow it down.

“I have an idea!” Kaius said.

“So do I! We pull it to that square we passed through and get Ianmus and Kenva to blow a hole in the back of its head!”

Kaius blinked, “That’s my idea!”

“Liar, you're just saying that because yours was worse!”

“Whatever, just get us to that square! I’ll see if people can help!”

Cobblestones crunched beneath Porkchop’s claws as he tore his way through the city streets. Kaius did his best to ignore the rabid hisses that were uncomfortably close behind them, focused on their goal.

The nightscale was a tough bastard, as any creature of its size and level would be. Even if the creature was now visible, Ianmus and Kenva were perched on a tower half a city away. A gods blessed shot if there ever was one, especially with how energetic their foe had proven to be.

Given time, they could do it the long way. Wear it down, pepper it with fire until it collapsed under the weight of empty resources and gaping wounds. Unfortunately, they couldn’t just tie up half of Deadacre’s elite forces dealing with one threat.

They needed to be decisive; needed help pinning it in place, so Kenva or Ianmus only had to spend seconds lining up their shots.

Ro would know what to do.

“Problems?” Ro’s voice came through the command channel breathlessly. She had to be fighting, none of them had the luxury of leading from the back.

“In a sense!” Kaius replied, before he heard a snarl behind him. Mana flooded his blade, Mystic’s Rend crackling. Spinning in his seat, he slashed at the nightscale’s snout.

Black scales cracked as his Skill detonated. The sudden flash of noise and pain made the beast flinch — good, every longstride they could pull ahead was worth its weight in platinum.

“We’re pulling it away from the centre, and it’s dropped its invisibility. It can’t keep it up—” Kaius dropped low, Moment of Flow warning him a moment before a flashing arc of light flew over his head. The face of a building ahead crumpled, wood and glass shattering with a scream.

“—while using other skills!”

“Good, then kill it!”

“It’s taking too long! It’s bigger than the drake we killed; without my spells, we’re just leaving flesh-wounds. We’re pulling it to a square — the one with the statue of the dancing ladies. Can anyone help us pin it down long enough that Kenva can put an arrow through the back of its skull? Even if it survives, it’ll be enough of an opening for us to tear its throat out,” Kaius replied, hurrying through his words.

Porkchop lurched to the left, taking a corner at the last possible moment. Hissing in surprise, the nightscale’s momentum proved too much for it to follow swiftly — it still slashed at them with a claw as it passed.

He read the motion in an eyeblink. It was going to hit him in the side!

A glassy shimmer split the night, Hellblade Investiture and Mercurial Reversal making his blade gleam from within. Sweeping his blade up high overhead, the creature's claws met a crystalline edge with a thunderous crash. Unable to drive his parry through his hips like he was used to, the impact slammed him down.

Every bone in his body ached as he strained, desperately levering against the nightscales claws.

Black arcs slid across the edge of his sword — he held. Just.

Seeing them escaping once more, the nightscale screamed. It scrambled, tearing away cobblestones in its efforts to turn and follow.

Ro’s ragged gasp cut through the cacophony. “I’m a little busy with my own problem! Let me check with the others, if you don’t hear back in the next minute, assume you’re on your own.”

She cut the connection. Great.

A frustrating response, though not one he could blame her for — they were all stretched thin.

The plain brick and stone of the narrow terraces around them smeared. Each bore new scars — some suffering simple broken windows, while others were closer to half collapsed. The devastation was stark — a reminder that tonight would bear a cost in livelihoods as well as lives.

Kaius held his breath, hoping for a response to his plea.

Charging past a pub, he caught a glimpse of its sign. A quill sitting in a green tankard. They weren’t far from the square now — maybe a few blocks.

His communication artefact buzzed as Rieker’s gravelly and very welcome voice sounded in his ear.

“Ro tells me you need a bit of a hand? Some sort of overgrown gecko?” Rieker teased, though he paused to grunt every few words, “I’m just dealing with a breach in the north eastern section of the wall — I assume the one it entered through. One more Silver and I’ll be able to help for a few minutes.”

Kaius blinked. The wall had been breached? When in the hells had that happened? He’d assumed the nightscale had used its invisibility to scale the defenses at some point. Gods, he needed to get back — this had to be a major push. He shoved down his worry. If Rieker was willing to leave, the situation had to be under control.

Still, the faster they could finish this, the better. Holding the eastern gate was critical, and that was just that much harder without him and Porkchop there.

“Please,” he replied, “We just need to pin it down long enough for Kenva and Ianmus to take a shot. We’re just about at the square, we’ll keep it busy while you arrive.”

Hells, if Rieker was coming, they might not even need that. The man was ferocious, and at his level he’d have multiple second tier class skills at his disposal.

“I’ll be there in five minutes.” Rieker’s voice cut out.

The moment he was gone, Porkchop reached through their bond. “I’ve already reached out to Kenva and Ianmus — they can see the square. They’ve got their hands full stopping the fliers from tearing people off the wall, but they can still help — just waiting for us to create an opening.”

Kaius sighed in relief. With a Gold at their backs, and their back line ready to support them, he felt far more confident in handling the nightscale.

His growing confidence did little to blunt the itch of his anxiety. Leant low over his brother’s back, he heard the terrible scream of tortured wood and stone every few bounding steps. Another home gutted, another building sacrificed to maintain their lead.

At least it meant that whatever shadowy skill it used to become incorporeal was likely heavily draining. The nightscale would have long since caught up to them without the narrow streets hemming it in.

They burst into the square a few minutes later, pale flagstones cracking beneath the force of Porkchop’s footfalls.

It was a dead thing, but pretty in its own way. There were no trees, no planters — nothing he expected from the village squares he’d seen surrounding the Sea. They couldn’t survive, not in Deadacre.

Instead, it was littered with benches and small gazebos — places where the local community could come and mingle under the watchful eye of the twirling stone ladies at the square’s centre.

Now it was streaked with ash, and the hubbub of city life had been replaced by the roars of the beast. Most were distant, one was terribly close.

“There!” Kaius yelled, pointing towards the open ground surrounding the central statue.

They arrived a moment later, Porkchop skidding to a halt as his claws dug furrows through the stone.

Leaping free, Kaius ignored the clank of his prosthetic as he touched down — focused instead on the plume of dust that was rapidly approaching.

Rolling his shoulders, Kaius settled into his stance as he forced himself to stay light and loose. With room to maneuver, the nightscale would be even more vicious — he’d need to stay on his toes if he wanted to keep them.

Beside him, Porkchop resummoned his heavy plate.

“I’ll get in its face.”

“I’ll flank.”

“Try not to lose a leg this time.”

Kaius snorted softly, though he kept his eyes on the street the nightscale would come from.

A moment later, he spotted it, and all thoughts of making a retort fell from his mind. A six-legged streak of black, all scale and hissing fury.

The second it hit the square, it locked on to them — still frenzied by their earlier harassment. Kaius grinned, ready for the carnage. Rieker was already on his way — he’d sent word just a few blocks before they’d arrived.

He wasn’t worried. The square might give the nightscale extra room to maneuver, but they had been given that same grace. Property damage would be far less of a concern.

How long would it take the wretch to realise they hadn’t been running because they were scared?

2026-01-25 04:05:35 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 498: Nightscale, pt. 3

It was so nice to cut loose; to feel that marrow deep thrill as his world collapsed to just him and his target.

The nightscale was a vicious creature, no doubt about it. Nothing that large should be able to turn invisible — it was patently ridiculous. Yet now that he had ripped a person-sized hole in its back, the high Silver creature abandoned that stealth. The ever present shimmer that tried and failed to hide from his Truesight vanished with a faint crackle of sparks. In that same moment the shadows that spilled across the street were sucked in. Like oozing pitch, they coagulated over the nightscale's claws.

Kaius narrowed his eyes at the sudden switch. Why disable its stealth? He might have been able to breach it, but it was still an advantage — unless it had to. Did the invisibility interfere with using its other abilities?

That was something he could use.

Flesh rumbled beneath him as the nightscale growled. It burst into motion. Rearing up, it hooked its claws into Porkchop. A sudden heave sent Porkchop flying, heavy plate clanking as he crashed through the facade of a building across the street.

Kaius tensed at the sudden surge of violence. Not just a weak ambush predator then, it had some real might on its bones.

His brother growled, shaking himself loose from the rubble.

“Wait! Catch it off guard when its focused on me!” Kaius pushed through their bond.

Porkchop’s muzzle pulled back into a snarl, but he held — despite the need for violence that flooded their connection.

It didn’t surprise Kaius in the slightest when the nightscale came for him next. Moment of Flow Cut a sphere of danger through the air, a line that arced straight through his heart. From his crouch, Kaius exploded into a dive. Ripping his blade free, he threw himself from the nightscale's back — right as it contorted to swipe at him with burning claws.

They slashed through where he had been only moments before, missing him by a hairs breadth. Black dripped from each of the crescents, a searing aura that washed over his scalemail. Stabbing cold gnawed at his ribs, an agony that tore a gasp from his throat.

He didn’t recognise the affinity — shadow, darkness or something similar was his best guess. Regardless, he had no resistance to it. Not yet at least.

Touching down, Kaius kicked off and raced straight back to the beast’s side. He had to keep the pressure on; they’d only just gotten its attention.

Another claw arced to him. It was fast and agile, despite the fact the creature had not fully turned on him. His eyes soaked in every movement, Skills dragging his attention to how best to turn the blow.

There was an opportunity here, a chance to cripple one of the beast’s six legs.

He snapped his blade up, Mercurial Reversal accelerating his parry into a blur. Catching the blow edge to edge, his Skill drank deep of the nightscale's strength, sapping its energy. Even lessened, the creature was a giant monstrosity. Kaius allowed himself to slide across the cobble, knowing he had no chance of fully negating the force of the attack.

A Father’s Gift shone like a new dawn, stolen power glinting on its tip. Feeling the burning potential, Kaius listened to the urging of Sergeant's Insight. The Skill directed him to the beast's shoulder, where its obsidian scales grew thin and small. It was practically an open door to its shoulder joint.

Diving under another hissing swipe, he raced in.

In that same moment Porkchop surged out from the shattered shopface, the ground rumbling with every step. Dropping his shoulder, he threw himself at the reptile's chest. Mana flared, and a ghostly shieldwall burst into existence — spears levelled at his target.

The Ethereal Phalanx charged forward, spearpoints crushing through obsidian scales. It was glorious, a unified charge that rocked the beast back and left it growling in fury.

“By the matriarchs, it’s so much easier when I can see the damn thing!” Porkchop said, laying into the nightscale with consecutive uses of his Jadecrash.

“Stay focused! Its still got other skills!” Kaius replied, still feeling his side burn from the close brush with the creature's pitch coated claws.

Meat and scale tore open as he slammed his blade home into the creature's leg. Mana surged through him and into his blade, a stinging tingle building in his hands as arcane energy coated his weapon. The thin wire of energy warped, detonating in a staccato that ripped apart the creature's flesh.

He saw the glint of bone, a perfect opportunity.

Unfortunately, nothing came easy in life. Ignoring the grievous tear in its leg, the night scale swiped. Kaius felt a flare of dread. He tried his best to sidestep away from the strike, only to put his bad leg down into a puddle of blood.

It was barely a slip, a slight imbalancing that he corrected in a moment. It was enough.

The nightscale’s hand smashed into his chest. Layered cracks rolled through his chest as his ribs ignited into a burning fire.

It was like being punched in the mouth by a drunk ogre.

Then all he heard was broken glass. He came to a rapid stop, splintering wood erupting around him as his breath was knocked free.

Helmet ringing like a bell, Kaius shook himself. What the fuck? Where was he?

The shattered remnants of a cabinet fell from his body as he stumbled to his feet. Every movement made bone grind on bone, five hotspots on his chest, two in his spine. Other than the breaks, he was…pretty good? He had his sword, his armour was mostly undamaged.

Outside, the battle still raged in earnest. The nightscale was working itself into a frenzy, infuriated at Porkchop’s stoic disregard of its claws and bite. Every wound was paid for in blood as Porkchop mauled everything he could get his claws on.

He laughed, leaping through the shattered window as he rushed back to the battle. Just a bit more, he knew it. No way it could keep letting them attack its side uncontested. Any more and they’d be digging a tunnel into its chest.

As he ran, a soul deep itch settled into his wounds as Greater Regeneration splinted broken bone and rewove it whole.

Flashing to the creatures side, he spent his resources like water — Investiture, Rend, and Mercurial Reversal brightening the night in tones of red and blue as he struck as often as he could.

Gradually, the wounds he opened widened — a cavern of flesh that sprayed its lifeblood.

It was too much for the beast. Rearing up, the nightscale clawed at the nearest roof, desperate to heave its body round to face the threat that constantly attacked its chest and sides. The building buckled, burying the creature in rubble.

Kaius swore he could see the frustration boil over — embedded and trapped, the nightscale thrashed. Shattered beams and debris exploded like an alchemical bomb had been detonated.

Moment of Flow gave him the warnings he needed. He stepped to the side, avoiding a phantasmal line the skill painted through the air a heartbeat before a wooden beam was hurled in his direction.

“Back up,” Kaius said. “Give it a moment to work itself deeper.”

“Just keep an eye on that tail.”

Kaius nodded, it was a fair call. Long and sinuous, the reptile's tail was flexible and wrapped in strong muscle. One good whack from that would snap him in half.

The dust settled, revealing a small mountain of rubble that had collapsed over the nightscale. It wasn’t completely pinned, but it would be slowed — a good opportunity for a crippling blow.

“I’ll keep it busy while you go for its leg!” Porkchop said enthusiastically, another Bulwarks Challenge roaring free of his throat.

A low rattle rippled through the beast’s chest — a thin glow of mana surging in its throat. Some sort of breath weapon? He didn’t know, but he trusted his brother.

He raced in.

Moving at full speed, he planted his lead foot. Every scrap of momentum he had was driven through his hips as he brought his blade from high to low. Crystal warped through the air, a brutal cleave that ripped open the slowly sealing wound on its shoulder.

The nightscale jerked, the mana in its throat dying as Porkchop cracked its jaw. Before Kaius could capitalise on the opening, an earsplitting crack rang from behind him, heralding a spike of danger that rammed down his spine.

“Tail!”

He detonated a shunt, the rolling wave of force blasting him back. Just in time, the thin, boney tip of its tail whipped through the air almost faster than he could blink. Broken wood and tile were kicked up in a spray.

Gods’ damnit, that was his second to last cast of that spell. No matter, he could still see the gleaming pink of its bones.

Before his angle was ruined, Kaius thrust out his hand — a spinning Nail ripping towards his target.

Steel met bone. Steel won, shattering the joint as hooked wires wound themselves through the bleeding wreckage.

The fire in Kaius’s belly roared, elated at successfully executing his plan.

Now he just needed to repeat it enough times to immobilise the creature for good.

That warmth died when the nightscale shuddered. Mana burst from its core, seeping into every facet of its being. For a moment, he didn’t know what to make of what he was seeing — everything he got from Truesight was disjointed. It was like he was looking at the creature through a prism, his perspective wrong in some ineffable way.

Reality blinked as the beast became its own shadow. Rubble fell through the creature.

As did his Nail, the gnarled tangle of steel sliding through the creature’s illusory flesh to hit the ground with a dull clank.

“Hells! Back up!” Kaius yelled, racing away from the creature.

Porkchop didn’t need to be told twice — retreating down the street in an instant, they watched it snap back to physicality. Growling deeply, the nightscale turned.

Cold, black eyes burned with a fury.

Rotten roots, if it had an incorporeal ability, there was no way they could keep it pinned. Still, they had succeeded at something. The beast didn’t even make so much as a twitch towards the city centre.

Oh no, it wanted them dead. A problem, considering it had been able to hammer them when it was half pinned and they were hitting its flank. Gods, he wished Ianmus and Kenva were here — they’d already made plenty of openings his back line could have exploited.

They weren’t though, so he’d just have to manage without.

Kaius leapt on Porkchops back. “Pull it back to the wall while we figure out a better plan?”

“Lets.”

Porkchop spun, charging down the street. The provocation was too much for the nightscale. Predatory instincts took over, and it raced after them.

2026-01-22 21:31:35 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 497: Nightscale, pt. 2

Kaius swung for the nightscale’s side with all his might, the burning aura of his Investiture prickling against his skin like a god’s spite made manifest.

Unenhanced, A Father’s Gift was a sublime weapon that had been tempered in godly waters. Backed by his Investiture, he felt like he could cut through adamantine. A shame the cost was so high, he’d have to be sparing with its use yet.

This fight was still going to be tough, Kaius had no doubt about that. He had a bare five casts of Hateful Nail, a smattering more of Stormlash, and only three of Shunt and Bound Maelstrom. Worse, his mana channels still itched from breaking the army’s initial charge with Starfall — he’d have to save his spells for critical moments.

At least he’d recovered enough to comfortably use Mystic’s Rend.

On the precipice of Gold, the nightscale was incomparable to the masses of lesser creatures that Kaius had slain that night. With its natural size and physical abilities, its strength was only multiplied further.

Glinting scales of midnight black may as well have been dwarven plate, even its very flesh felt like cutting through oak.

Yet he still cut.

The nightscale screeched as a plate-sized scale shattered in the path of his blade. With his blood roaring hot, Kaius braced and leaned in; his brother’s forward charge was the only force he needed.

Blood flowed in a steaming wave, washing the streets; cleansing them of accumulated ash.

The wound he had left was deep, but unlikely to cripple the creature. Not with its size and strength. No, it was a provocation. The gaping crater in its flesh would be impossible to ignore.

They had to pull it off its path — if it reached the triage centers at the city centre, the losses would be incalculable. More than that, they needed to force it to turn. At nearly forty longstrides from snout to tail, there was nowhere near enough room on the street for its sinewy form. Even if it clearly had the power to demolish buildings with its physical strength alone, the debris would hamper it — allow him and Porkchop to strike at its vitals.

Letting out a low, crackling hiss, the nightscale lunged to the side to escape his blade. Glass shattered and wood splintered as its leading leg raked through the facade of a wooden house.

Kaius readied himself, flames of heat building within him. Bloodsong called, and aspects responded. It was a vigour finer than any wine. He readied himself, the creature would strike now, he was sure of it.

The nightscale’s massive head rose and it gazed upon them. Its eyes were deeply sunken, and black as night. He tensed, ready for it to lunge, and the carnage to begin.

Mana welled within the beast, rising to a sudden crescendo. Kaius felt a flash of danger from the thick limb just ahead.

Porkchop felt his sudden apprehension — lurching wide to the left and drawing them away from the threat.

Yet the attack never came. Claws burnt bright, digging deep into the paving stones. The nightscale accelerated. Uncaring of the damage it caused to its surroundings, every swaying step left destruction in its wake.

“What the fuck?” Kaius said.

It was running? Gods’ scorn, that made no damned sense! No one sane so blatantly ignored a deadly threat — it wasn’t like it could escape. The damned thing was slowed far too much by the city infrastructure.

“Do you think it's the Tyrant?” Porkchop asked as he redoubled his pace, slowly closing the gap the nightscale had created.

“It must be, why else would a common beast be targeting our wounded — it shouldn’t even know where they are! Not unless the aerial beasts were able to communicate with it somehow.”

“Well then, we just need to make it certain that its only hope to reach its target is to kill us.”

Surging forward, the ground undulated beneath Porkchop’s feet as he unleashed Breaker of Men. Spikes of crystalline metal erupted in a wave, and he charged straight at the nightscale’s side.

Kaius’s stomach lurched. Bloody hells, Porkchop was going to tackle the damn thing. With him on his back.

A laugh slipped from his throat as he grabbed his brother’s armour with his off hand.

Porkchop slammed into the creature's side, digging his claws into the slowly healing cut that Kaius had made moments earlier.

The sudden jolt of the collision nearly threw Kaius clean from his brother's back. The mauling didn’t help either. Tensing, Kaius forced himself forward, thrusting his sword deep into a gap between its many ribs. Mana coalesced along his blade edge, collapsing a moment later.

Mystic’s Rend blew a fist sized tunnel into the nightscale, arcane burning at the edges of the creature's pulsating flesh. Good, the affliction was suppressing its recovery.

Yet to his dismay, the beast still didn’t turn and face them — only letting out a frustrated roar as it lurched to the side in an attempt to throw them off.

Kaius grit his teeth, mounted combat wasn’t working. He and Porkchop were too set in their fighting styles — his agile and swift, his brother’s brutal and hard. Yet on his own, he’d struggle to keep up with the pace of the creature. He had no stockpile of mobility spells, and had a cursed hunk of steel in place of his bloody foot.

He needed some way he could tear into it and become a biting viper the nightscale couldn’t ignore.

Gritting his teeth, Kaius’s mind raced as he hacked at the reptile's side. Without leverage and reach, they may as well have been light scratches.

Porkchop, at least, was having more luck. Every swipe of his claws tore great strips from the beast’s side, staining his armour a deep red.

It screamed, and heaved towards them — a slam that sent Porkchop stumbling back, and nearly knocked Kaius free.

Leaping back, Porkchop roared his Bulwark’s Challenge. The skill ripped at the nightscale’s attention, its head snapping to Porkchop as it let out bone-rattling scream. It heaved up like a cobra, bracing itself with its back four legs as its forelimbs burned with black energy.

Kaius’s breath caught — had they finally done it?

His anticipation was ripped away from him as the creature snapped its head back to the centre of the city. The skill surrounding its arms winked out. Falling back to the ground, it surged forward again.

He could have screamed. Porkchop did, another Challenge echoing off the surrounding buildings.

“By the matriarchs, I've fought such a coward!” Porkchop growled, layering his complaint with a goading jab in beast-speak — a raw impression even an unthinking beast would comprehend.

Kaius couldn’t help but agree. They needed to pull it away — or put it down. Yet the damn thing was too big for them to pin down — bastard just kept running away! Unless… what if it couldn’t. Maybe he needed to try a different kind of mounted combat.

“Bring me in close! I’ll jump on its back.”

Porkchop was already moving, “That’s insane! I like it! Fighting with you up there is annoying anyway, I keep getting worried you’ll get squished.”

A fair worry, considering the blows he’d seen Porkchop shrug off before in the past.

He pushed the thought out of mind, honing in utterly on their slow approach to the nightscale. Between its middle set of legs seemed best — its body broadened there, and its odd gait made the space between its limbs undulate far too much to keep his footing.

Guided by his intent, Porkchop surged in.

The gap closed.

Kaius pushed off Porkchop’s armour, popping himself upward. He tore into one of his precious Shunts, force exploding behind him.

A howl spilled from his lips as he sailed through the air. Seizing his blade in both hands, Kaius brought it up high for a plunging stab. By the gods, he was going to make his arrival hurt.

Investiture surged, binding his weapon in roaring energy. He hit the reptile knees first, slipping on its glossy scales. Before he could fall, he drove his sword down with every scrap of force he could muster.

Scales broke. He hit bone. That broke too.

The nightscale screamed. It was bloody music to his ears — he’d love to see the bastard try to run from him now.

Half aware of Porkchop throwing himself bodily at the creature’s first set of legs, Kaius hauled on his hilt. Levering it back and forth, he widened the wound. Steaming blood welled from shattered scales like a mountain spring, soaking him in his foe’s vitality.

No, it wasn’t enough. This thing needed to die — to feel its oncoming death, so it couldn’t even conceive of ignoring them. His spells were precious, but this was the time to use one.

Kaius reached for a Nail, and ignored the stinging tingle in his glyph as he forced the spell to surge into his blade.

Guided by Runeblade Hymnfocus, his blade drank deep of the spell's effects, and brought their changed power to ruinous fruition.

Embedded deep within the nightscale's body, vicious metal teeth erupted from the edge of his sword. They whirred, a tearing mass that consumed the beast from within.

It wasn’t enough — he needed more. Kaius flooded his sword with stamina, honing it to a killing edge with the burning light of Hellblade Investiture. Blood sprayed, misting his face through the grating of his helm.

His lips wetted with the taste of iron, he drove his blade forward, carving a bloody furrow up its back. Muscle, bone, scale — it didn’t matter. All were shattered and torn, only to be kicked free from the wound in a fountainous spray.

That, finally, was enough.

The nightscale slammed to a halt and bucked. It failed to shake him free, his sword embedded like a fisher’s hook.

Hemmed in by the street, the creature hurled itself through the nearest buildings. Debris fell over it in a wave, nearly knocking Kaius free from his perch. Kaius snatched a glance and saw it strike Porkchop — ripping him away from the hole he had gouged in the creatures ribs.

Needle teeth closed around heavy plate, and the creature flung Porkchop free. He hit the paving stones with a crash, scrambling to right himself as he slid to a halt.

For a moment the beast seemed torn between diving after Porkchop, and the ever growing wound Kaius was opening on its back.

At that moment, the Nail he had channeled through Hymnfocus faded, its energy spent. With the sudden absence of the ripping teeth in its back, the nightscale snapped to Porkchop. It hissed, rearing to strike.

Kaius frowned; that wouldn’t do, not at all. Focusing his will, he pushed mana through Mystic Rend — and was doused as his buried blade detonated four times in quick succession.

Rippling jerks rolled up the nightscale's spine. Its head snapped back — focused right at him. Its eyes were wide and shining, a burning hate that screamed vengeance.

The sight of it only widened Kaius’s smile.

He twisted his sword, driving it a little deeper.

No way it was going to ignore them now.

A/N: Soz for delay. Also, at some point in this fight there may be a small continuity editor where the nightscale uses a claw skill before I want it to. I can't find the reference to it. I may have imagined it. Who knows!

2026-01-21 22:13:14 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 496: Nightscale, pt. 1

His prosthetic sucked. Not enough traction. Even putting a boot on it, the simple fact he wasn’t getting physical feedback from his footing led to him making constant, slight adjustments.

It was a considerable problem when the stones beneath his feet had been painted a consistent, slick ruby.

Thank the gods he’d lost his leg now, not a year ago. He had the dexterity to manage the impediment. That didn’t mean he had to like it — just another month or two and he could lob the damn thing back into storage.

Until the next time one of them got a limb ripped off, that is.

“Heave!” a sergeant yelled from down the line.

Guards and militia alike let out a roar, shoving forwards with their shield as they forced back the beasts. Two fell from the wall, and two more fell with spearpoints in their throats.

Despite their success, Kaius could see the sweat. The pallid clamour. Not even the rust red of dried blood — human and otherwise — could hide it. The defenders were exhausted. They were scared.

Their constant struggle had made them strong, but few were built for a drawn out battle like this. Even he was growing tired of the constant burn of his muscles.

He did what he could to lighten the pressure on them. Dashing along the wall, he charged into the narrow gap between the parapet and the guard's shields. A dozen beasts tried to capitalise on the sudden opening. Each one grew intimately familiar with the taste of his blade.

The beasts were weak. Endless, but weak. He could give the shieldwall a moment's rest, they deserved it after a night like this.

Kaius forced away the image of blank-eyed bodies being dragged from their positions, replaced by yet more men. There was always someone — three rotations of men on the walls, and he’d yet to see an entire squad make it through without losing someone.

At least he’d recovered a fair chunk of his mana. Once it was full, he’d get his own opportunity to rotate off — though he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. They needed him.

Ro and Rieker had insisted. When the Tyrant itself came, he needed to be sharp, not worn down from endless toil. Even Arc had agreed.

The sharp crackle of a communication artifact shook him from his thoughts. The command channel.

“Kaius! We need you, the northern wall’s been breached — large, invisibility or camouflage abilities, and unknown strength. Kenva’s following its trail, but can't pierce its cloak — I need her focused on aerial threats anyway.” Ro barked.

Shit, if Kenva couldn’t get through its Skill, it would be at high-steel at minimum. He was the best the city had at besting that sort of thing — but to abandon the wall?

He shot a look down the wall, at the exhausted rows of men who were pushing back the beasts. More would die if he left, more would die if he stayed.

Fucking war.

“I’ve got Steel teams coming to support the eastern gate, but I need you and Porkchop to go now — it's heading straight for the temple!”

God's scorn! That was where their healers were.

“On it!”

Kaius kicked off, the thump of an Expedient Shunt hitting him in the back. Touching down on a nearby roof, he only stumbled a little.

A little to his left, he caught sight of Porkchop diving from the wall — unsummoning his armour as he went to reduce the impact. His brother didn’t bother with a roof, not when he’d simply crash straight through it. Landing with a heavy thump, Porkchop’s armour reappeared with a pop.

He tore down the street. Kaius ran to meet him, jumping from roof to roof until he leapt directly onto Porkchop’s back.

Even weighed down with heavy armour, his brother was fast.

“Whats our plan!?” Porkchop asked as his claws tore up the cobblestones.

“Don’t really know — hard for us to get intel when the only thing people can see is that it's big, or maybe strong enough to break houses! Is it enough if only I can see it?”

They were able to share senses, but it wasn’t the same as seeing something personally. The shift in perspective would make dodging hell.

“It should be — probably not going to be able to pull off a perfect parry, but that's not really my style anyway.”

Kaius nodded, looking further into the city as he heard a crash. A drifting trail of dust cut the sky, revealing the creature's path. Every second that passed, he heard another crash.

Rotten roots, was the thing even trying to navigate, or was it just running straight through every building that stood between it and its target? More importantly, how the fuck did it know where their healers were in the first place! Even if the Tyrant was directing the beasts, surely it wasn’t actively doing so? It was a godsdamned army!

Grinding his teeth, Kaius simply leaned in close to Porkchop as he tightened his grip on his blade. He wished he had more of his spells. Necessity had limited his options significantly, but if he had Compel Obsession or Zone of Discombobulation he would have felt much more capable of slowing the creature’s advance.

As they raced through Deadacre, Kaius got a close up look of the devastation he had missed while defending the wall. It felt like every second building had been broken by the bombardment of the initial push from the aerial beasts.

Holes had been blown in roofs, windows had been smashed, and some houses had been utterly leveled. Fires lit the horizon in a hazy orange, too large and numerous to be explained by the watchfires that were scattered through the streets.

Tearing around the corner, he got to see one up close. An inn, consumed in a solid wall of flames — orange tongues slowly spreading to the surrounding buildings. The sight of it fixated him.

Left untended, the entire city might go up in flames.

“There!”

The call came from a nearby alley. A delver team, six strong. One of them clutched a staff, pale faced and drained thin — yet seeing the fire the man clenched his jaw tight and downed a tonic.

A bead of water grew at the tip of their staff.

It was barely a moment, then they were gone. They tore around another corner, growing ever closer to the creature that had broken into the city.

Kaius was oh, so tempted to take the opportunity to reinscribe as Porkchop ran. He knew it would have been idiotic — inscribing was volatile. No longer how swiftly he could inscribe his first tier spells, all it would take was a little distraction and they could destabilise. He didn’t fancy losing a finger right before a fight, let alone blowing a hole in his temple.

A deep bestial rumble rolled over the roofs from their left, followed by a crackling hiss. God's scorn, it was close. Some kind of reptile, maybe?

They had to only be a few blocks away, judging by the splintering crunch of broken wood he could hear. It was hard to tell — the dust the creature had kicked up had spread wide, mingling with smoke to obscure its source.

“Come on, we're getting closer,” Kaius said.

As he leaned in, Porkchop raced, taking corners at speed as they drew closer and closer to the source of the noise.

Crossing an open square, Kaius heard his communication artefact crackle. Kenva’s voice came through a heartbeat later. “I see the two of you! Take your next left and head to blocks, then take another — you’ll be behind it. I think.”

“How big is it? Can you tell at all?”

Kenva hesitated. “About as large as that drake you told me about? I can really only pick out where the dust is swirling around it, it's hard to tell. Long and low to the ground, rather than bulky or tall.”

Well, now he really wished he had more of his spells. Fighting large creatures was as much about managing distance and striking at exposed vulnerabilities. He was plenty confident at the damage he could do with his blade, but it was a pain in the ass when he couldn’t bloody reach anything important.

Regardless, they would just have to manage. There were ways around the restriction — worst came to worst, they took out its legs, exactly like they had done with the siege ogre so long ago. Plus, Porkchop wasn’t anywhere near as limited in his choice of abilities, and was plenty big himself.

Following Kenva's directions, they burst onto the street she suggested — right behind their hidden target.

He saw it immediately, its invisibility as strong as wet tissue when faced with his Truesight. Its body was lithe, yet still two full longstrides across at its widest. Three sets of legs jutted out from its body at right angles, its odd, wide stance giving it an undulating gate. Each of its claws may as well have been swords, and its body was coated in scales the colour of obsidian — light warping strangely over their surface.

The thing was moving steadily, a solid run rather than a desperate sprint. As it moved, its long, whip-like tail cracked from side to side — smashing in walls and shopfaces with every touch.

He identified it.

Nightscale Elder - Level 283

Beast, Ambusher

The heat in Kaius’s blood flared. Finally, something real. A battle that would make a difference — and a challenging one at that. Even if they’d fought higher level creatures, the night scale was large — larger even than the drake. Its physical abilities would be commensurate.

“Can you see it?” Kaius whispered.

“Yeah, kinda awkward though,” Porkchop said, pausing for a moment, “Unless you want to stay on my back? It’ll make the perspective shift a bit better.”

Well now, that sounded interesting. They’d practiced a little mounted combat before, but not against something larger than them. He could always dismount if it wasn’t effective.

“Why not?”

Porkchop charged.

“Go for the flank! Drawing it back towards the wall should be our focus.”

The beast was way too long to comfortably turn on the city street — even if it was strong enough to destroy buildings, the rubble would still hamper it. Levelling someone's home wasn’t exactly ideal, but it was far better than giving the nightscale room to manoeuvre.

Feeling Porkchop’s acknowledgement through their bond, Kaius seized his stamina. He was ready to activate Hellblade Investiture at a moment's notice, but not just yet. Not when it might give them away.

The nightscale was confident. Sloppy in only the way an apex predator could be. It must have heard them, yet it was so certain in its invisibility that it continued moving forward without a care in the world.

Right up until his blade erupted with a furious red glow.

A/N: Lapsang does make me think im drinking dried chipotle tho. Funny thing for the americans, dried mexican-style chiles only became readily available in NZ in the last few years. I literally smelt dried (not canned in sauce) chipotle for the first time this saturday, which is how I made that connection.

Still had to go to the bloody bougie supermarket to get them though. Worth it (made Saman Nosrat's braised pork with chillies)

Had no clue what I was doing, I just grabbed 1 bag of every chillie type lol. Think I did like 2 dried chipotle, 2 canned, 5 passila negro, and 5 ancho (or maybe poblano). worked out fine after 5 hours of braising, blending and sieving the sauce + shredding meat, then 3 more hours of braising (since I added too much water to sieve the sauce).

Moral of the story, finding authentic mexican food in NZ is hard as fuck. Now, our relative proximity to south-east asia, on the other hand...

2026-01-20 22:30:58 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 495: Defending the Wall, Finale

A deep blue bird flashed past a window, appearing in view for only a fraction of a second. It likely thought itself safe — blocks away, and obscured by buildings. Hells, the only reason she could see it in the first place was that the front half of the building they flew past had been crushed by a boulder some beast had lobbed into the city earlier in the night.

It was enough; Kenva snapped to the movement immediately.

Gotcha.

That flock had been a right pain — Barshnem Needlers the system called them. Bastards to the last, all twelve had been flying low, dipping through streets to harass everyone they could find with piercing hails of feathers.

Not everyone had escaped with injuries.

Damn things were wily. Hiding from her since she’d taken out a third of their number. They wouldn’t escape a second time.

She knew their flight pattern now; the way they clustered and dipped through the allies. From that one glimpse, she could practically see them through the walls — aided all the while by Way of the Survivalist and her Mentis aspect.

The low chatter of the other archers on the siege tower calling targets fell into the background. Drawing her bow, Kenva felt the strain of its limbs — a tier two weapon of war that held enough tension to snap a grown man's leg.

Stamina and mana flooded into her arrow, one of the ones she had sung from Hanrick's tree. That flock liked to spread out; if she wanted to take them out with a single shot, she’d need to layer Shattering Rain with her latest skill.

Weaving the two abilities was tough — she wasn’t anywhere close to as dextrous as Ianmus or Kaius when it came to manipulating energy.

Gritting her teeth, Bare Thy Heart snapped into place, and her arrow was surrounded by the ghost of a spearlike thorn. Her back ached — gods it hurt to hold the bow at full draw.

Yet despite the discomfort, she didn’t let even the faintest tremor show in her posture — as still and statuesque as if she was carved from steel.

Every bit of her focus was on a ruined wooden house, five spots down from where she’d spotted a needler through the window. Its roof had collapsed. Beams propped up the ruins — leaving a thin gap barely a handspan wide wide that gave her an angle into the street beyond.

Even for her, it would be a hell of a shot. Not to thread the gap. She could do that with her eyes closed, even if it was multiple city blocks away. No, it all came down to if she judged their movement right.

There was no sign of the needlers. No shadows; no flashes of a wing tip over the roofs; no reflections as they flew past a fortuitously angled window. Nothing that she could use to see if she’d judged right.

It was all down to trust. Had she judged right? Did she know her target's instincts, even better than they knew themselves?

The corner of her mouth tweaked up. Of course she did.

Kenva loosed, the heavy snap of her bow making the closest archers to her jump.

The wind shattered before her arrow, screaming. An illusory thorn as large as a sword arced through the night.

She focused on that slot in the broken house, her tiny window into the street beyond. Her arrow shot through the wreckage, skimming past splintered beams and broken roof tiles by the barest of hairs.

A flash of deep blue eclipsed the hole. Her arrow vaporised it, and the tightly bound energy within her projectile detonated. An ear splitting crack resounded, audible even over the ever present din of war.

Barshnem Needler - Level 133

Beast, Harrasser

…

Barshnem Needler - Level 137

Beast, Harrasser

Kenva flicked to the notifications. Nine. Nice, she’d finally gotten the fuckers. Goddamn winged rats, they’d been playing hell on the ground teams.

Her slight grin vanished as the building wreckage she’d shot through let out a pained groan. It collapsed, dust and debris pluming upwards.

Whoops.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Ianmus was still facing the other way, firing his solar rays like a clan-trained deadeye. Each one dropped a beast that harassed the fighters on the wall.

Thank the gods he hadn’t noticed. Property destruction was…amateurish.

“Kenva! We’re supposed to be saving the city, not levelling it!”

That wasn’t fair! There was no way he saw — he was just assuming it was her doing. Bastard.

Still, she had more work to do. A flock of particularly tricksy birds was not her normal prey — there were far many other threats to deal with. After its initial push, the Tyrant seemed fit to pull back most of its Silvers, no longer spending them wastefully on a frontal assault. Now, they were under constant harassment. Flying monstrosities, strafing over the city under the cover of their weaker brethren to sow as much devastation as possible.

It was their fault the city looked like Kaius had dropped a Starfall on it. A war of attrition, grinding them down and never letting them rest.

Her, Ianmus, and some of the other mages from Mystral were just about the only deterrent stopping those flying creatures from running roughshod over the walls. She and Ianmus were covering the eastern quadrant, where the action was heaviest.

And boy was it heavy. They’d already brought down bloody four of the bastards!

Kenva scanned the night — dropping any flier she could reach with unenhanced arrows. It had been an hour since they’d seen a Silver one. Too long — and more than a couple of them were damn fast. It was hard to take them out when they only ever blitzed through the horde above, dropping as many skills as they could before vanishing again.

The dragonfly was the worst — a skyborn lord, the system had called it. Damn near as long as a caravan, it was a bloody terror. Too many had fallen to its acidic bolts.

She settled on a group of guards far below her dragging a wagon full of wounded towards the well defended temples at the city centre. Not all of them were moving.

It was a stark reminder of what was at stake. She couldn’t save everyone, she knew that — all she could do was fight like hell.

That skyborn needed to go. Thankfully Porkchop had managed to piss the thing off. It might have simply been the Warden’s Challenge he roared whenever the thing appeared, or it might have been the chunk of masonry the big lug had managed to lob in its general direction. Regardless, the skyborn spent most of its time trying to melt her friend down.

It wasn’t really working. Porkchop was tough. He benefited from Kaius’s absurd resistances, and the creature's strafing attacks gave him too much time to heal. The weeping sores it left still looked agonising, and Porkchop couldn’t do squat to stop it.

So she searched the night, hoping to spot it and put it down so that her friend could have a much needed break. He had far more important things to focus on, like holding the wall from all the other beasts that kept trying to clamber over it.

It didn’t take long for the call she was waiting for to come.

“By the matriarchs, the hell beast is back! Can it not just die!” Porkchop said, his rumbling fury clear. A heartbeat later, his roar cut through the constant yells of battle — a deep basso she would recognise anywhere.

His words sent a jolt down Kenva’s spine. She loosed her arrow, skewering a bird that was about to dive for an archer on her right. Racing across the tower, she skidded to a halt beside Ianmus. His three keyseals had formed concentric rings atop his staff, and he was flooding mana into the most simplistic one. It was the keyseal he’d created in their delve, the one that helped him stabilise and hasten his freecast spells.

Whatever he was doing must have been complex.

His Preeminent Halo was effective, but the dragonfly they were after had a tendency to change the direction of its flight every few seconds. The spell simply moved too slowly.

“Spotted it yet?” she asked.

She could see Porkchop on the wall to her east, his armour covered in gore as he slammed his claws into the neck of a speckled feline beast half his size. His lower half was smoking — caustic fluid running in rivulets as it seeped between the cracks of his heavy plate.

Watching blood sizzle as it hit the acidic Skill, Kenva bit back a wince. Gods, how did he just ignore it? She was no stranger to pain, Porkchop was moving like he hadn’t even been hit!

“There!” Ianmus said, pointing to a patch of cloud high above the battlefield, “It’s hiding in the shadow!”

Four wings buzzed in a rhythmic blur as the dragon fly hovered, obscured by its fellow aerial beasts that flocked around it.

Its tail lanced forward, curving under its body as a bubble of noxious fluid steamed at its tip. The bolt of acid rocketed free.

“Watch out!” she called, sending the message to Porkchop.

He dodged a little too late. Acid splashed over his pauldron, and he let out an infuriated howl.

“I hate this thing! Bastard won't even fight me properly!”

Kenva’s mind raced. They needed to bring it down somehow, but the bloody dragonfly never came close enough for them to pin it down!

“Any ideas?” she asked, desperately hoping the man had something.

He gave her a terse nod, still focused on his shaping. “This spell's going to be more of a moving wall of light than a ray — it’ll be weaker, and slower than normal, but I'll be able to manoeuvre it. Think you can take out one of the dragonfly’s wings if I use it to hide the angle of your shot?”

That would be perfect! She was certain the creature was a visual hunter like its mundane cousins. If Ianmus could force it into a poorly timed dodge, she was sure she could hit it.

“Do it.”

She drew an arrow, flooding it continuously with Howl of the North Wind. She needed the extra speed and power it would bring. Besides, the insects' wings were delicate — if she could take one or two of them out, the Skill’s windburst might be enough to knock it straight out of the sky.

“Hurry up, please!” Porkchop called, as he did his best to avoid the worst of the dragonfly’s bombardment.

Kenva grit her teeth, checking on Ianmus. The mage cast that instant.

A wall of roiling gold shot into the night sky, tearing towards their distant target. It was a large thing — easily fifteen longstrides across. Perfect for blocking the sight of the dragon fly. As the spell hurdled through space, swarming beasts were caught in its net. They punched straight through, screaming in agony as feathers and carapace smoked from the scouring.

They were, however, alive. Ianmus hadn’t lied when he said it would be weaker.

Spotting the approaching threat, the dragonfly lurched diagonally downwards out of its path. Ianmus merely grit his teeth, and the spell curved to chase. The Silver beast went berserk — jolting in a dizzying series of jumps as it sought to avoid the wall of light.

The dragonfly dived down and away from them as Ianmus’s light wall moved to meet it. Kenva’s eyes sharpened. Even with what looked like fifty strides separating the beast and the spell, from her angle they were aligned.

She loosed, the crack of her arrow making a ranger on her right gasp and clutch his ear. Her shot was there in an eyeblink, blanketed in the fury of a typhoon.

A heartbeat after it punched through the wall of light, cutting winds erupted — and an audible roar. She held her breath — and grinned as he saw the skyborn lord plummeting down, the outer half of its left wings in tatters.

She’d been aiming for the joints. All that and it still nearly dodged?

Squashing the warring feelings of dissatisfaction and victory, she drew another arrow and tracked its trajectory — the thing wasn’t dead yet.

Hang on. It was falling towards the inside of the eastern wall, just to the right of the gate. Where Porkchop was.

“Porkchop?”

“Huh? Oh!” he said with vicious glee, watching the beast that had boiled his flesh spiral down towards him.

He backed up a step, claws digging in.

“He’s not going to do what I think he is, right?” Ianmus muttered, eying the sixty stride drop to the city streets below.

“Lot smaller than that cliff,” Kenva muttered.

Porkchop launched from the wall, burying his claws into the dragonfly’s midsection. The beast roared, its tail shimmering as it struck Porkchop again and again.

Kenva just barely made out a squelch as they fell behind a house.

“You okay?”sShe asked tentatively through their communication artefact.

“Much, much better now.” Porkchop grumbled. A moment later she saw him leap upwards, digging the tips of his claws into the gaps between the mason blocks of the city wall as he clambered back to his position.

“That’s ridiculous,” Ianmus replied. “Bloody physical classers.”

Her reply was cut off by a crushing boom far behind her, joined by a rattling hiss. The sheer volume jolted her into action, and she burst across the tower.

A billowing plume of dust waited for her, just inside of the northern wall. The artisans quarters! Something must have gotten inside — a chunk had been taken out of the parpets, and the defenders were scattered.

Yet she saw…nothing — right up until another building collapsed as if an explosion had gone off next to it. More dust billowed, swirling up against…something.

Something large. It surged forward, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake as it pushed deeper into the city. Right towards the central temple that they were using as a field hospital.

Icy shock coursed through her in realisation. She reached for the artefact that linked her to the command line instantly.

“Shit! Ro, something with a camouflage skill just breached the northern wall! It’s going for our wounded!”

A/N: I'm now certain that dictating made me insanely waffley. It's actually cooked how much better the pacing has been since I swapped back to typing lmao

also lapsang suchoung is really good. Still highly suspicious of pu'er tho, tea shouldn't smell like that. Swapped to tea when coffee + amphetamine adhd meds started melting my brain. Oddly, loose leaf has switched up my preferred flavours. Used to love a good earl gray or flavoured black tea (usually chai or other spices), but now i'm all in on chinese black teas. I suppose they have been tea-maxxing since approximately the invention of tea, so not that surprising.

2026-01-19 21:31:02 +0000 UTC View Post

B4 Chapter 494: Defending the Wall, pt. 3

Kaius watched another man die. It had barely taken an instant. One moment, the man was fifty longstrides down the line from him, just another face holding a spear.

The next a hawk with a wingspan as large as a man’s slammed into his chest. He’d just...fallen; screamed his way down from the wall until he’d hit the street with a wet crack.

Kaius swallowed, driving the image of the man's flattened skull from his mind. He hadn’t been able to do anything. He could have killed the beast in a single cut, but he couldn’t be everywhere.

All it had taken was a moment of distraction — the militiaman being just a little less braced than his fellows on either side.

Another breath quelled the hole inside of him. Was life really so cheap?

Sliding forwards, he cleaved through a buzzing moth as large as his head. His section of the wall was littered with dead beasts. They just didn’t stop coming — apparently just a little too slow, and a little too bestial to realise his gap in the opening was not a weakness.

It almost made it hard to focus on his true target, the black tide of gnashing teeth that crashed towards the walls.

Just a little further. The Tyrant's forces were almost at the dragon’s teeth. Damn the monstrosity that led this army, but its tactics had worked. With their archers and mages tied up with the swarming flock above them, the ground forces had been able to advance almost entirely unhindered.

No matter, they would hit the scattered spikes of stone like they were solid walls. As the front collapsed, the charging creatures behind would only drive their vanguard deeper onto the spikes.

It would be a cascade — a teaming mass of uncoordinated flesh. Perfect for a Starfall.

Or seven of them.

It was a barrage that took almost his entire pool of mana to cast. A preparation he had made to break their initial charge. It would leave him vulnerable, limited to using only a fraction of his normal arsenal of spells. There would be little opportunity to sit down and reinscribe during the fight, but it would be worth it.

Kaius fingers twitched as he watched the army, as if he could cut their number down with blade alone. It was a good thing both he and Porkchop had been placed where they were — it was going to be a slaughter, warmagic or no.

The Tyrant’s forces had formed themselves into a great wedge, headed by beasts so large that they might as well have been siege engines unto themselves.

Irontusks, as well as squat armour-plated bull creatures, and more joined a menagerie that formed a hammer. One that would strike directly at the gate.

If he couldn’t break their charge, that was.

His heart thumped heavy in his chest. Either he slaughtered this advance alone, or hundreds of guards would die.

All around him, men fought, desperately doing what they could to fend off the aerial beasts. Constant bombardment may have held the flock at bay, but even injured, each creature that reached the walls was vicious. Even one took multiple guards to take down, rarely without injury.

Kaius had no eyes for their plight, focused so thoroughly on the steady thump of thousands of feet on the earth.

His heart beat, and the army drew closer. They were bare longstrides from the dragon’s teeth.

Every muscle in his body was tense, like a warbow under full draw. H wrapped his Will around seven inscriptions. Each one was a roiling packet of mana forced into false stability; weapons of destruction to the last, they hungered to be set free.

His heart beat again.

Suicidal and rabid, the vanguard rammed the dragon’s teeth. Angled pikes of stone ripped through hide, scale and flesh alike, driving deep. Blood sprayed wide, a terrible baying call of agony filled the night.

Just another moment! He only needed the ranks to buckle!

Yet to his dread, he watched energy flash through the leading ranks of beasts. Bodies toughened, gleaming shields of a dozen affinities snapped into existence, and charging monstrosities accelerated.

Stone broke. Shaped into deadly traps or not, common granite failed in the path of system-backed might. The vanguard's advance continued, slowed but not broken.

Alarm spiked, a flash of cold that spread down Kaius’s back. He wanted nothing more than to unleash his spells — wipe the threat away.

It would have been folly, he had to wait. Only the first row of teeth had been failed — hundreds more still separated the tyrant's ground forces from the wall.

Focusing his vision, he watched the vanguard of massive creatures drive themselves deeper onto the spikes, widening their wounds. Blood flowed in a great ocean, a bounty of red that watered the parched ground surrounding the city.

They were slowing!

Behind the vanguard, momentum and rabid fury drove the remaining forces onwards. They slammed into the back of the front line.

An Irontusk buckled — the unexpected crush driving a stone spike deep into its throat.

Momentum died, leaving only a heaving crowd that desperately jostled towards the city. More were coming. Wide, flanking lines that advanced behind the wedge that raced for the eastern gate, but they too would be slowed. Forced to clamber over obstacles that only the most adroit would be able to ignore, they would be helpless against the archers on the walls.

It was exactly the moment Kaius had been waiting for.

Seven spells, seven promises of obliteration.

His mind ached as mana burned through his glyphs. Never before had he felt such strain, a raging torrent that scoured him with a god’s fury, bucking against his grip as he sought to direct their potency.

Glyphbinding was supposed to make him immune to manaburn, wasn’t it? Yet the natural conduits connected to his glyphs burned. It was liquid acid, a blistering heat that shot through his arms to stab directly into his chest.

He almost lost his grip; the spells surged, threatening an uncontrolled eruption. The very thought of it sent a bolt of stark shock through him. Hundreds would die — none of the guards would stand a chance of surviving so many Starfalls.

Gritting his teeth, Kaius martialled his will, forcing his focus out onto the army that was quagmired in the stone dragon’s teeth. Reaching for his Authority, Kaius wrapped the burgeoning spells in a grip of iron — forcing them to obey his commands.

Seven spells; seven fields layered across the wedge formation. Each one touched edge to edge, covering as little of the remaining dragon’s teeth as he could manage.

His arms shook with the strain; the agony that felt like he had shoved them into a stoked forge. They burned with visible light, glowing a furious orange as the remnants of his spellhymns dissolved into embers.

He cast.

Fields of black opened, invisible against the night sky to all who could not sense the brilliance of the mana wrapped up within their forms.

Kaius staggered, gasping — yet he refused to look away.

Beasts, furiously snapping and clawing as they tried to clamber over their skewered vanguards, suddenly looked up.

Burning light banished the dark. Flaming boulders descended in their dozens, whipping the surrounding air until it screamed.

Gore exploded, mangled flesh and stray limbs thrown free as the first star descended to the earth. Then it happened again, and again. A bombardment that shredded the Tyrant’s forces in a wave unending.

Kaius’s migraine worsened as the system chimed so frequently it might as well have been a single, drawn out note. He grinned, gods it was glorious. Definitely worth feeling like he’d shoved his hands into a meat grinder.

When his spells winked out, there was a single moment of silence. Every guard, and every beast stared at the devastation — a pockmarked field of craters, each filled frothy red mud and broken bodies.

“Hells, save some for me!” Porkchop grumbled, though Kaius could feel his brother was more impressed than anything else.

Kaius just allowed himself to enjoy a moment to breathe.

He knew they still had much to do — his bombardment had only slain a fraction of the Tyrant’s forces, a single contingent making a play at the gates. Beasts still gathered in their many thousands, from the smallest hare to the hulking forms of great monstrosities. Yet they were still — their charge broken against stone fortifications and stellar devastation.

The moment of frozen time ended as a single burning orb cut across the night sky. It was familiar: solar magic wrapped in a barely stable shell. Ianmus’s Preeminent Halo.

It slammed into the beasts, right at the far end of the cratered field his own Starfalls had left in their wake. On impact, it expanded — a burning orb that consumed a dozen beasts with gluttony.

A bare morsel compared to his own fatalities. Kaius laughed, even as roars of fury rippled down the lines of the attacking beasts, and his friend’s spell signaled a return to battle.

“Glyphbinding is such bullshit!” Ianmus said through the artefact in his ear.

“You’re just jealous. I will readily admit I feel like my hands have been flayed, though.” He replied, inspecting the glyphs that wrapped from the back of his hands and up his wrists.

The skin around the black lines of his inscriptions was split and red raw. That didn’t concern him — the physical injuries were almost completely gone. No, what was troublesome was the ache he felt in his circuits. Deep down, he knew that even avoiding another burst like that, casting any spell would worsen the damage. Especially from Drakthar itself.

“How long does it take to recover from manaburn?” he asked.

“Thank the gods, I was ready to throw myself from this if you managed that without backlash. It’s hard to tell — if it's just pain in your circuits, maybe a few hours. I’d hold off on casting or inscribing until then. No mana tonics either.” Ianmus replied.

“Will you be alright on the wall without your magic?” Kenva asked.

“Of course.”

Blade work was such a large part of his class for a reason. He’d do just fine without magic — even if it would be annoying to avoid Mystic’s Rend and Hymnfocus. Inevitably, the beasts would reach the walls — he’d have to work hard to make sure they didn’t take them.

Watching the tyrant's remaining forces pick their way across the dragon's teeth under heavy fire, Kaius caught half a dozen nearby guards staring at him.

One of them gulped as he raised his brow in their direction.

“Can you do that again?”

He shook his head, “It's down to good old steel, now.”

It would have to be enough.

A/N: Soz for the big delay, it's a public holiday and I forgot I hadn't already queued up today's chapter

2026-01-19 05:05:20 +0000 UTC View Post