PreCursive

Chapter 211 - What Remains

I accepted the glass of water from Renauld from my place sitting back on the cot. Said Gnoll sat next to me on it, flopping onto the thin sheets with a sigh. We sat in silence for a moment, and after I had finished guzzling the liquid, I broke it. “So, how did you make it?”

Renauld cut his eyes my way, deep bags visible underneath them even through his fur. “Mainly due to the Band,” He said, referencing his merc company that was seeming less and less like a cover. “When that that crazy thing demolished Fort Duality and the Revenants started popping up, we commandeered a local Guard house. We…tried to shelter as many civilians as we could through the slaughter, but…” He shuddered. “It was a bloodbath out there, Nate. I don’t know if you were in Elderwyck at the time, but I think at least a quarter of the population here got eaten. Probably more.”

I nodded quietly at his statement. I…remember thinking that it must be pretty damn bad in Elderwyck, while we were skulking through Tlatec. I wasn’t very happy to have been proven right.

“So, we’re in Elderwyck then,” I said, trying to take his mind off of whatever had happened to him. “How did I get here? Last thing I remember I was…blacking out after a fall at the Fort.” I paused for a moment, examining myself. “How long was I even out for? I wasn’t in great shape when I was knocked out, and I’m fine now.”

Maybe he had healed me? There was no way I had been out for long enough for my Status to take care of my injuries.

“Oh, so you don’t remember then,” Renauld said, nodding to himself. “It was actually Honoka that rescued you.”

I jerked in place at that, my eyes widening. Honoka was here? I almost instinctually looked around for her, but there was no point to that. I have no doubt the older woman would have made herself known by now if she had been. “Where is she?” I said in shock. “How did she even get here so quickly? Is…Grey here too?” I said, hope in my voice. I stood up quickly, the thought of both of them reminding me of someone just as important to me that needed help.

Renauld stood up as well. “Uh, well,” He stuttered a little, taken aback by my sudden energy. “The Army and the Headmaster aren’t here, no. It’s just Honoka. According to her, the Headmaster knew they wouldn’t get here quick enough to help with the Calamity, so he sent her on ahead. She apparently flew the entire way here.”

I cursed, my hopes dashed. Still, if I knew Honoka at all, she was probably frantically looking for someone we both cared about. I was a little startled she hadn’t been there at my bedside to demand if I knew where she was. “Where is she?” I asked him urgently, before another thought occurred to me. “Have you seen another Gnoll too?! A female, with white fur!” For a dread inducing moment, I was terrified at the possibility that Liora had been killed in the brief period between when I had left her, and when Rhazal had been slain. What if a new Revenant had been spawned, and it had found her helpless, unconscious body?

Thankfully, those fears were put to rest.

“Calm down,” A quiet female voice said from behind me. “I’m right here, Hart.”

A feeling of relief so intense that I nearly passed out again swept over me, because I recognized that voice. I steadied myself and turned around, to see a very welcome sight, standing in the doorway of the makeshift clinic.

Liora.

She looked to have cleaned a little, as the last time I had seen her, she had been in torn and battle-dirtied Loyalist armor like I’d had. In fact, she wasn’t wearing armor at all. The Gnoll woman was in civvies, stained with what looked like dust and blood and looking more than a bit tired.

I couldn’t help myself. I rapidly approached her, and swept her up in a hug like I had Renauld. She stiffened awkwardly, but didn’t get the chance to return the embrace before I pulled back and looked her in the eye, my hands clutching her shoulders desperately. “Liora, we need to go get-” I tried to get out urgently, before Liora interrupted me.

“Whi-Sylvia,” She corrected herself. “Has already been retrieved from the Lich’s tomb, along with the girl. Lady Honoka is seeing to Sylvia at another location, while Isolde has been placed in protective custody.”

I slumped in relief, letting out a long sigh. Suddenly aware of the grip I had on the Gnoll, I gingerly let go of her with a rough apology and stepped back. “That’s…good,” I breathed. “Maybe Honoka can get her up again.”

Unfortunately, Liora immediately dashed my hopes by shaking her head. “I’m afraid not,” She said, slight regret in her voice. “According to the Lady, the Lich was correct in his assessment. Whatever is keeping Sylvia asleep, it will require Grecyton’s expertise to solve. She does not have the ability to diagnose her.”

I nodded slowly, disappointed but unsurprised. “As long as she’s fine until then, I…suppose I’ll just wait,” I said lowly. We stood around in silence for a moment, before Liora broke it.

“You were able to do it, then.” She said, in more of a statement, then a question. “There are still questions among the citizenry about how the Calamity was slain, and by who.”

“After a fashion…yes,” I answered her, aware that it was way more complicated than me just out and out killing Rhazal. “I did deal the final blow.”

We were all startled, then, when the sound of a crash and then a slamming door echoed from the front door of the clinic. I hadn’t been paying attention to anything over Liora’s shoulder, so I hadn’t caught it in time.

But it looked like there had been an eavesdropper hanging around the front of the building, spying on my reunion with Liora. I only caught a brief glimpse of some random teenager scrambling as he took off down the street. For a moment, I was tempted to sprint out of the clinic and try and catch the little shit and ask what he was up to, but I…frankly I didn’t have the strength to do so. I still felt too rung out from everything that had happened, with a queasiness in my stomach that hadn’t disappeared since I’d woken.

Liora, Renauld, and a handful of the other nurses in here had seen the commotion as well. I cut my eyes over to my fellow ex-Agent. “How much do you think he heard?”

Liora sighed. “Enough, most likely,” She said tiredly. “You can expect rumors of the man who slew the Calamity to start circulating on the streets before days end. You do have a distinctive apppeanance, after all,” She nodded at my exposed, Primordium prosthetic. As if in response to her attention, a brief cascade of reds and blues flowed over its surface. Shaking her head, she slapped a long black leather glove onto my chest. “Here, cover that up. Perhaps it will help.”

I murmured my thanks and slipped the glove over my prosthetic, thankful she had thought of something like that. I chalked it up to her greater experience in her…now defunct position. While I was doing that, she had sidled up to Renauld in order to have a brief whispered conversation with the other Gnoll. When she was done, she turned around and nodded at me. “Let’s go. I’ve filled Lady Honoka in all that I could, but she still wished to speak with you. Understandably…I’m not aware of everything that happened.”

I nodded to show my own understanding, and after exchanging my goodbyes with Renauld, we left the clinic behind.

I braced myself as I stepped out into Elderwyck. Which was…a good idea.

I had never seen a more war-torn place in my life. And I’d seen my fair share of battlefields, by this point.

The streets of Elderwyck were beyond ghastly. Bodies and gore were everywhere, and more than a few buildings had simply collapsed under the assault of the Revenants, spilling rubble into the streets of the city. Everywhere I looked, I only saw two kinds of living people. Either they were completely shell-shocked and traumatized from the experience of running and hiding from Rhazal’s creations. These people were either wandering in a daze, barely responding to the words of those around them. Or they were sitting wherever they could, sometimes in the middle of the shattered streets, and weeping to themselves.

Either quietly, or very, very loudly.

The second group was what gave me more hope, though. These people were doing what they could to help others. Everywhere I looked, people were stepping up to either tend to the stricken, or clean the streets. Grim faced survivors searched through rubble, pulling bodies from broken buildings to be loaded onto carts. Kind caregivers urged the near comatose out of the roads to quiet places where they could recover. Impromptu food lines had sprung up from the storefronts of restaurants and bistros, doling out soup to the hungry. In a way, the people of Elderwyck were pulling together in the wake of tragedy.

I only hoped Herztal could do the same.

Liora noticed the way my gaze lingered on the aid workers, as she led me through the streets to wherever Honoka and Sylvia were set up. “I’ve been doing the same, since Rhazal was slain,” She said quietly. “It’s been perhaps five hours since then, and the degree to which the people have rallied is…remarkable.”

I glanced at her, since her words had reminded me of something. I was almost afraid to broach the subject, but maybe…

“Have you went and looked for any hint of…” I trailed off, but Liora understood me. There was only one person that she would have gone looking for. Someone that…maybe could have survived their last charge. He had been strong enough, after all.

Liora glanced at me for a moment, and gave me a slight nod. Without speaking, she reached behind her to withdraw a familiar pair of daggers from a pouch.

Hooked ones.

I took a deep breath, and looked away.

Guess that answered that question.

“I…moved what remained to Lady Honoka’s current residence,” Liora said quietly, a resigned sadness in her voice. I think it had been a faint hope that our leader would have survived his sacrifice, but it had been a hope nonetheless. I couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

I didn’t know what to say to a loss like that, despite my own familiarity with it. So I said nothing.

I think Liora appreciated that, at the very least.

We walked the rest of the way through the ruined streets of Elderwyck in silence.

………………………………..

Liora led me to a large, nearly palatial estate farther into the city. I had never been here, but I knew what it was, just from briefings.

The old Ducal mansion, that had been donated to the Elderwyckian guard.

I barely gave it more than a disinterested glance, as Liora led me up to the large, ostentatious wooden doors. The few guards that were watching their headquarters had barely given us more than a passing glance before waving us inside, apparently familiar with the sight of Liora.

I was a bit surprised by this. Liora had an explanation, though.

“The war is a distant concern now,” She said, as we plodded along the path up to the manse. All around us in the garden were relief stations set up by both guards and volunteers. They looked to be more than busy with their work, so we didn’t bother them. “After the massacre up at the palace, none of them are interested in holding firm to an oath to a dead man. Come, the Lady is just inside.” She said, reaching for the handle of the double doors.

However, the both of us had to hastily step aside when they were blown open by a surprising group.

Orcs.

A group of five very rich and important looking Orcs stalked out of the manse, either snarling in outrage or simply scowling. None of them gave us a second glance as they stalked back down the path we had just walked down. They practically shoved the wrought iron gate off of it’s hinges at they left the guard headquarters behind.

I blinked after them. “Wonder what that’s about?”

“Nothing good,” Liora said, unexpectedly grim. I looked at her in surprise, to see her shaking her head. “From what I understand, Tlatec is furious about the losses they suffered from the Revenants. Their regional Governor is said to have lost his life in the fighting, and to make matters worse, they can’t establish contact with the greater Empire. The Portal Stone is apparently malfunctioning, and they can’t get through to Indiqua for instructions. And…they’re blaming us.”

I tilted my head in thought. “Honestly?” I said aloud, before nodding. “That’s…fair. Nerexxa was impersonating a human noble, and…she’s pretty much at fault for everything.”

Liora just sighed, but didn’t contest my words. Instead, she led me inside of the manse and up from the large double stairs at the far end of the entry hall. Eventually, the Gnoll woman stopped at a door near the top of the building.

It was pretty obvious that Honoka was inside.

Because I could feel a furious, powerful presence radiating from the other side of it. It was like I was standing with my back to a bonfire, and I was being cooked slowly from it. I wasn’t, but the sensation was extremely uncomfortable.

God, this wasn’t helping my roiling stomach.

“This is where I leave you,” Liora said, doing her best to ignore the presence. I shot her a betrayed look, causing her to just shrug. “I can still give more in the relief efforts. I cannot give more, by being shouted at. I’ll…see you later, Hart.” At that, the Gnoll woman gave me a nod and turned back the way we came.

“Bye…” I trailed off lamely, to Liora’s retreating back. I shook my head at my own silliness. I mean, it’s not like Honoka was going to hurt me or something. I had no reason to be afraid of her. I firmed my will and reached out for the doorknob.

I yelped and yanked it back when the flesh of my exposed hand sizzled slightly from the head of the metal.

Okay, maybe she would. What the hell had her riled up so much? It’s not like Sylvia was dead, after all. Just…comatose.

Whatever, I’d just ask her.

I reached out with my gloved hand, and gingerly opened the door.

On the other side of it thee room was a heat haze that filled the air. I only had a moment to be relieved by the sight of a seemingly sleeping Sylvia resting on a bed along the far wall, before my attention was stolen by Honoka.

The older woman was sitting on a chair facing the door I had just open, hunched over and cradling something. At my entrance, her head snapped up with startling speed.

I was shocked by the sight of tears in her vermillion eyes.

With a snarl, she stood up, knocking her chair backward and holding out something that caused my stomach to drop. “Where did you get this?!” Honoka hissed at me.

She was holding the staff that I had borrowed from Tlazo.

The staff of the Lich that was supposed to have been, once upon a time, a companion of Grey.

And hers.

Oh.

Shit.

<<Chapter 210 | Table of Contents | Chapter 212>>

Chapter 210 - Survival

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A STATUS, YOU ASSHOLE!” I screamed into the air of Elderwyck, trying to yank my glowing spear out of Rhazal’s skull before I stole a ‘Skill’ from him. If that was even what I was stealing.

But I wasn’t quick enough.

I braced myself as best as I could for what was coming…but nothing could prepare me for it.

Suddenly, a flood of disgusting, corrupted, almost smoky feeling Aether shot up the connection formed by my weapon with the Calamity’s corpse.

When it reached me, it was like a dirty bomb went off in my head. The world went dark around me, my sight suddenly cutting out in a panic-inducing mirror of my restored right eye. Without my prompting, it felt like my body was covered with a greasy misting of smoke, swirling all about my form.

Oh.

Wait.

No, that was because I was falling.

In the moments that I had been blinded both mentally and physically by whatever I was stealing from Rhazal, the dissolution of the Godbound’s physical form had completed. I was now in free fall, plunging through the foul-smelling, grimy clouds of Miasma generated from his death. Panicked, I tried to throw out several Thorn Grapple’s with both hands even though I still couldn’t see. I was hoping, praying that one of them would connect with one of the crumbling towers of Fort Duality before I hit the ground.

They didn’t.

Impact.

I hit the crumbling, shattered stone, and my head bounced off it.

I blacked out.

……………………………………………….

I don’t know how long I was out of it, after I had fallen. But slowly, slowly, consciousness started to return to me.

Only, slightly, though. I was barely aware of my surroundings as my mind swam through what felt like a lake of tar to awareness.

I gazed blankly up at the clouded skies above me as it started to rain. I didn’t even flinch as the drizzle slowly began to soak my ravaged form.

At least as I was able to see still. I had that going on at least.

I don’t know how long I lay there, barely able to form a thought in either my core or outer rings. But, eventually, a noise pierced the fog that had descended on my mind. It was odd. It almost sounded like there was someone pounding on a massive, impenetrable pane of glass somewhere to my left. Sluggishly, I turned my unfocused gaze that way from where I was lying to see what it was.

Ah.

I could see where I had fallen, now. I hadn’t fallen all the way to the foot of the ruined Fort like I had thought. Instead, I had landed not far from the all-important Portal Stone which had been the true focus of everything that had happened.

The noise was coming from it.

I don’t know if it was just my head wound, but it looked like something was trying to almost…break out of it. On the other side of the emerald pane of crystal on the front of the Stone, etched with a seven armed spiral, something lurked. Repeatedly, a scaled, taloned arm was crashing into the other side of it, looking like it inhabited a space that existed wholly on the other side of the glass.

Bang…bang…bang…

Even through the haze I had descended into, it was terrifying. The surface of the crystal was hazy, but I could still see through it like it was a clouded window. Behind the indistinct figure, a swirl of dark red Aether, so similar to that of Nerexxa’s, spun slowly, illuminating the vaguely feminine figure. They never stopped their blows against the crystal, sending crashing noises echoing out through the rainy city. I…it was loud enough that I think the entire city had to be able to hear this.

Bang…bang…bang…

And then nothing.

The crashing stopped, and something else appeared at the crystal that terrified me.

A face.

But…not, at the same time.

It was as if the features of the thing on the other side of the crystal existed on a plane of existence higher than my own. I couldn’t see or perceive a thing about it. I knew there was a face there…but that was it.

The not-eyes in the face that wasn’t there roved around the world beyond the crystal, before settling on me. They narrowed my way suspiciously, but after a moment, non-existent eye ridges raised in surprise. Moments later, a glower emerged on features that didn't exist.

“I should have known,” A disgusted, feminine voice echoed out from beyond the crystal. “Of course it would be a Precursor that ruined things. It’s all your kind are good for, in the end. Wrack and ruin trail in your wake like flies on shit.”

The voice wasn’t as heavy as Rhazal’s soul speak had been, but it still wasn’t pleasant to hear. What was worse, was that my core ring wasn’t able to shield me from the effects of it, as it was reeling from what I was starting to suspect was a concussion.

Something at the core of me pulsed in response to the voice.

Something dark.

Somehow, the non-being noticed. “Oh? Hah. Ha ha ha! At the very least, that failure Rhazal was able to inflict one last curse upon you, interloper! I may not be able to return, but at least the thought of his last gift to you will warm me in the storm.” The thing in the crystal sighed, before backing away enough that their face wasn’t nearly smashed up against it. Now, I could see the whole of their form other than their face. That remained shrouded in dimensions beyond my understanding.

They reminded me of Nerexxa in a way. Only…more.

I didn’t have the words to describe them more than that.

They defied explanation.

“I only regret I won’t be able to see the misery you will endure because of it. Still, a decent consolation prize, even though this surprise possibility didn’t pan out,” The voice mused, before flicking a taloned hand almost dismissively. “Oh well. Goodbye, Precursor. Suffer well for me.”

The indistinct figure deliberately turned its back and slowly started to saunter away into the vortex of bloody Aether behind them. In moments they had passed through the eye of the spiral and disappeared from sight, swallowed whole.

The Aether on the other side of the crystal winked out. In fact, a charge that had been present in the air I had barely noticed vanished as well. The last wisps of Rhazal’s murk that had been swirling around the Portal Stone dissipated with the Miasma, and the world went quiet but for the pitter-patter of raindrops.

I limply turned uncomprehending eyes back to the heavens, uncaring as to individual drops falling into them. I didn’t flinch on each impact, nor did I even react as a small puddle began to form underneath my prone form.

Instead, I felt my consciousness began to fade.

But my core ring had recovered enough that it could muse things over, even as my outer ring lost awareness completely. The world started to go fully dark all around me, and I didn’t care at all.

Somewhere, deep inside me, I knew that it was over. The crisis that had threatened to consume all of Vereden in divine malice had been, somehow, averted through a series of last-minute saves.

And I didn’t care. Instead, I was just relieved that my personal struggles were, for the moment, over.

Nerexxa had schemed for years and years to engineer the circumstances that would lead to Rhazal’s awakening, and the possible return of her mistress. Only to be slain at the last minute by an apathetic Lich that had been blackmailed into dealing with her, after previously being turned down by him.

More than she deserved, honestly.

Rhazal had slept for eons, waiting for the day he would be called upon to do his duty once more. I’m not sure if that thing even had real emotions or desires before I killed him, but I couldn’t help but hope he did. It would be a fitting punishment for such an ancient monster, to feel the hopelessness and misery he had likely inflicted on countless others in both the present, and the ancient past.

And Ixiah…

Well, if that had been her at the Stone like I thought it might be…

It seemed like she didn’t care at all about either of their struggles.

I couldn’t help but find the entire thing incredibly ironic. I would have laughed if I had the strength for it.

Instead, my core ring closed my eyes and prepared to drift off into unconsciousness. I couldn’t stave it off any longer. Idly, as darkness closed in, I wondered.

Would I even wake up again? Maybe my injuries from the fall were too much. Maybe the puddle I lay in would grow, and I would drown on dry land in a rain puddle. Here lies the mighty Precursor, bane of Calamities. Slain by precipitation.

Hah…

At the last moment, before the world fled, a faint light pierced my eyelids. I couldn’t open them, but it was warm and comforting. It was as if a ray of sunlight had pierced the clouded skies to shine down upon me and me alone.

It was…nice.

At that, I embraced the darkness once more.

……………………………………..

I almost didn’t want to wake up. I wanted to stay in the cool, comforting nothingness of sleep I had drifted into. No thoughts or worries weighed me down, in this void. No mysterious Spirits intruded upon the vastness of my sleep. No Vampires or Calamities were threatening entire planets, here in my unconsciousness. I didn’t have to wonder if anyone I knew in Elderwyck had survived the chaos of the last few days.

There was only emptiness.

Sadly, I didn’t have a choice.

As if from a great distance, I became aware of a sensation.

I was shaking. No…

I was being shaken. The faintest impression of a hand rested lightly on my shoulder and was trying to draw me from my slumber.

Ah…

Go away…

A voice pierced my comfortable void. “Nate…you…get up…”

That voice was…a bit familiar.

“Nate…fine…” The voice continued, sounding mildly exasperated.

Wait, wasn’t that…Renauld?

That fact pierced straight through both my outer and core rings, sending a bolt of sleep-erasing adrenaline racing down my spine.

Renauld!

My eyes popped open, and I immediately sat up straight from wherever I was. This was a mistake for multiple reasons.

The first was that the world spun around me from the sudden movement, turning the adrenaline that had filled me into stomach-churning nausea.

The second was that my head had instantly collided with the skull of someone else. The only thing I saw in the seconds after opening my eyes was black and white fur.

So…I guess I had headbutted Renauld right after waking up.

My bad.

My core ring thought this was hilarious, as my outer groaned aloud at the unintentional assault, flopping back down onto what felt like a bed. I heard Renauld stumble back from the blow, cursing, as I lay there in mortification. After a moment, I somehow mustered the will to live and opened my eyes once more.

Looking around, I saw that I appeared to be in a…Healer’s…‘shop’? Healer’s office?

It looked more like a repurposed butcher’s shop, honestly. All around me were people in varying states of wellness lying unconscious on cots, lined up neatly against the walls. Some looked to be in…very rough states, to be honest, while others just looked to be unconscious. Some were awake, some were moaning, and moving between them were what seemed to be either harried nurses or overwhelmed volunteers.

Still, they seemed to be handling things well enough.

Speaking of nurses….

It had been Renauld that I had headbutted, alright. The Gnoll was standing next to my own cot and rubbing his head from where I had smacked right into it.

I took in the sight him for just a moment, a bit of relief rolling over me. I…in all of the chaos over the last few days, I had forgotten that Renauld had still been in the city. With the assault on the warehouse, my capture, and then fucking everything with Nerexxa and Rhazal, he just…hadn’t been a priority.

Which I felt honestly terrible about. But thankfully, he seemed to have pulled through the nightmare that had fallen on Elderwyck.

Renauld was wearing his Healer’s robes once more, and they were coated in bloodstains. The Gnoll himself was frankly exhausted looking, which made sense to me. I’m…not sure how long I had been unconscious for, or how I had even been rescued from my deadly puddle, but surely disaster relief had started by now. It made sense that a Healer would find themselves in constant demand after the Revenants had ravaged the twin cities.

I took a deep breath, and with some effort, stood up and approached the Gnoll. He stopped rubbing his head at my approach, looking up just in time to be surprised at what I did next.

I wrapped the fox-like man in a rough hug, letting out a long, relieved breath. “You made it…” I whispered over his head.

Tentatively, Renauld returned the grasp, slumping in his fatigue. “Yeah…” He breathed an entire solemn story in that one word.

“Somehow, we both did…”

<<Chapter 209 | Table of Contents | Chapter 211>>

Chapter 209 - Moonlit Guide

When the last wisp of Rhazal’s vanishing soul dissipated into its component Aether, I doubled over in sudden weakness. I clutched desperately at Tlazo’s staff to keep me standing.

All of the strength and power that had been given to me by the Great Spirits was suddenly flowing out of me. It was like there was a spigot on my soul that had suddenly opened its valve at full strength, and was dumping the Aether right out of me.

A faint mist was visible to my exhausted eyes, as it wisped off of my dirty, battle-stained body.

When at last the draining of my borrowed strength had ceased, something in the core of me ached a tad. It was exactly painful, but it wasn’t pleasant. If I had to equate the sensation to anything, it would be equivalent to the soreness of muscles after a particularly hard workout. Something intrinsic to me had been stretched its limit, from the meddling of Elys and her companions.

Speaking of…

Above me, the Great Spirits were holding one final exchange.

Well!

That’s one annoyance taken care of.

Elys sounded out, sounding particularly self-satisfied. Orus sighed in answer, a sound akin to the rumblings of an avalanche.

IF THAT’S ALL, I’M GOING BACK TO SLEEP.

I HAVE LITTLE INTEREST IN THE AFFAIRS OF MORTALS THESE DAYS.

The gigantic representation of a mountain began to fade from the space we were in, only pausing momentarily when Neris spoke up again.

DO HOLD ON, MY DEAR.

I HAVE SOMETHING TO DISCUSS WITH YOU, WHILE YOU’RE STILL AWAKE.

FOLLOW ME TO MY REALM AND WE CAN SPEAK ABOUT IT THERE.

Orus sighed once more, sounding very much like a cranky old man, but acquiesced.

VERY WELL, BUT BE QUICK ABOUT IT.

At that, both the wave of Neris and the peak of Orus faded away, leaving only the moon of Elys, the sun of Tarus, and the mist of Anima in the surroundings.

Tarus broke the surprisingly awkward silence that had descended on us. For as proud and sometimes nearly malicious as he’d sounded in the confrontation with Rhazal, now he just sounded…sad.

Elys…

Was this entire set of circumstances...by design?

I blinked at the odd words coming the representation of the Vereden's star. Design? What...did he mean by that?

Was Tarus implying that...I was meant to be here? That Grey's lover had wanted me to be the one to kill Rhazal? I...didn't know to feel about that, and I'm not sure I had the mental strength to contemplate it.

Elys, conspicuously, did not answer. A quick roll of shadow rolled across the face of her silvery surface for a moment, impossibly fast. I had no idea what that meant.

Tarus seemed to, where I did not. A sigh escaped him, sending a flare jetting out from his surface. The fires of his sun almost roiled dejectedly, as he spoke next.

Old habits truly die hard for us, don't they, my love?

You cannot stop yourself from meddling.

Anything for the next generation, after all.

That seemed to be enough to snap Elys out of silence. When next she spoke, there was a note of coldness present in her voice that I had only heard when she addressed Rhazal.

I am no longer your love, Tarus.

That age is past us.

You forsook me first, with your dalliance with that…strumpet.

But enough with this.

These are private matters, and not for the ears of others.

Nathaniel.

I blinked slowly up at the moon, who had just shifted her rays of light to shine down on me. I had been leaning on my borrowed staff, just watching the odd spat between celestial bodies and trying to catch my breath. But now, I straightened up since I’d been directly addressed by my mentor's apparent lover. Moments later, I felt Tarus’s attention fall on me as well, warming me in this void.

Well done on slaying Rhazal.

I knew you could do it.

Even if we had to do all the heavy lifting ourselves.

Tarus grumbled, but without any heat to it. Elys just ignored him.

Unfortunately, this isn’t completely over for you.

I felt a bolt of adrenaline roll down my spine at her words. “Wait, what do you mean? I thought Rhazal was dead!”

Well…

His soul is dead, to be certain.

Anima said, finally speaking up once more. Elys picked up after her.

But not his body.

Unlike you, he was not wholly transferred into the Concord.

His corporeal form still awaits you out in the physical.

And you’ll have to deal with it.

Fortunately, it’s just a husk at this point, with no driving will behind it.

It should be a fairly simple affair for you to dispatch.

Tarus appeared to finally shake off his attitude and melancholy, and addressed me in a much more reasonable tone then.

With the death of the driving mind, Rhazal’s Revenants have dissipated back into their component Aether.

His shadow is slowly fading as well, and I begin to shine on Herztal once more.

The attunement has been halted, but not before a milestone was reached.

The danger is not yet passed.

There was a grim tone to the proud voice of Tarus, while the implications of what he was saying sunk in.

“There’s…still a chance Ixiah could come back?” I said, dread in my voice.

Possibly.

But only while Rhazal’s body remains on this side as an anchor for her to latch onto.

That which bars her from Vereden has weakened enough that she might be able to do so.

Which means we need to get you out of here, and back into the real, so you can deal with it.

I wanted to sag in place at Anima’s explanation, just from the sheer exhaustion of it all.

Hadn’t I done enough already? Hadn’t I given enough, sacrificed enough, to prevent this catastrophe? I just wanted to lie down and sleep for the next week after everything that had happened. During the entire confrontation with Rhazal that I'd been numb to the world. Fear and uncertainty hadn't touched me, much less thoughts of what could have happened if I had failed.

But not anymore. They rolled over me in waves, and I barely held it together under the light of both Great Spirits.

I didn’t want to deal with any of this anymore. All I wanted was for someone to come and rescue me from the burden of having to be the savior.

But…that was being denied to me.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath to try and stave off my exhaustion, and straightened as best as I could.

“Alright,” I said tiredly. “What do I need to do?”

Elys answered me, regret in her tone.

Since you were brought here physically, it would normally be quite difficult to send you back.

Fortunately for you, there’s an anchor we can rely upon to guide you to Vereden.

The youngest of my children, of whom you have a connection with.

“…Fade?” I asked her, confused. I looked around in the dark space I stood in, illuminated by the representations of the Sun and the Moon. I sure didn’t see a horned wolf anywhere near me.

Yes.

I already briefed him and Taran on the situation, and my oldest son will help transport him here.

One moment while I call him.

Elys fell silent, and the glow of her moon went dim for a moment. I was going to speak again to ask some questions, but I didn’t have the chance.

She flared to her full brilliance again suddenly, and with it, cast a ray of moonlight down onto the surface of the concord to my right.

To my astonishment, the moonlight thickened, slowly shifting into a quadrupedal form wrought from her radiance. Details began to emerge as the construct began to display lupine traits I had grown familiar with. Fur and fangs and finally…

Horns.

A silvery imitation of the companion I had left behind in Tŵr Gronn stood beside me. After a moment, it blinked its eyes open, revealing startling emerald green eyes. They look around for a moment in confusion, before settling on me. The young wolf’s ears perked up, and then something happened that nearly caused me to fall over in shock.

It spoke.

“Nate!” The construct of Fade said excitedly, rearing up on its hind legs and setting its forelegs on my chest. ‘Fade’ was big enough now that he was able to lean up and start licking my face enthusiastically, speaking in between each one. “It feels like forever since I saw you!”

I cautiously set my hands on the silvery clone of Fade. He felt real enough to me, even though he very clearly wasn’t actually here in the Concord like I was. A disbelieving smile crossed my face, even as I felt tears well up in my eyes. I couldn’t stop myself from collapsing to my knees and burying my face in his illuminated fur. I didn’t care about displaying even the smallest weakness in front of the Great Spirits.

I was…just so happy to see anyone that I really, truly cared about right now.

“Nathan?” Fade asked me, confusion in his incongruously present voice. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

I closed my eyes, hidden from the world in his coat. “A lot has happened recently, that’s all,” I said quietly.

Fade made a confused noise in the back of his throat, but it was Anima that spoke next, in a gentle tone.

You’re almost done, Nathaniel.

One last service, and you can rest.

Come.

With young Fade’s help, I will lead you back to the physical world.

Brother, Sister.

She said, directing her words up at Elys and Tarus.

I’ll take it from here.

Elys and Tarus took the obvious dismissal in surprisingly good grace.

As you say, Sister.

We’ll speak later.

And Nathaniel…

Thank you for your sacrifices.

Do not worry.

My beloved will be with you, ere long.

At that, Elys’s moon faded from the shadows of the Concord, leaving me with only Anima and Tarus. Said sun’s attention was on me, in an almost considering way.

Well.

I'll say this.

You’re more tolerable than your pirate mentor.

You can at least create a decent blaze.

Maybe we can work something out at a later date.

Till then, Precursor.

Finally, I was left alone in the resulting silence with only Anima, and the construct of Fade.

Up you go, Nathaniel.

It’s time to go home.

I took a deep breath, lifted my face from the illusionary fur of Fade, picked up Tlazo’s staff, and leveraged myself to my feet. But I kept one hand on the nearly waist-high head of Fade.

Home, huh.

I gues...Vereden really was home, these days.

Follow the trail, and I shall lead you back to Elderwyck…

At that, the diffuse green mist of Anima all around me transformed itself. Now, there was a nearly solid green trail etched into the surface of the Concord. I took it for the invitation that it was, and set foot on it, Fade at my side.

As we walked, I cast an eye down at Fade. “So,” I said quietly, my voice echoing in the silence around us. “How have you been? Learn anything cool from Taran yet?”

Fade’s muzzle scrunched up before he shook his shaggy head. He nearly speared me with his growing rack of horns, but the young wolf was conscious enough of them not to. “No, not really,” He said grumpily. “That old fogey has mostly been lecturing me about a bunch of boring stuff. The most exciting thing we’ve done is hunt, honestly.”

I smiled at the almost teenagerly churlish answer from him, fighting a chuckle. “Well, you’ve only been with him a few weeks,” I said. “Give it some time. I’m sure Taran will get to the fun stuff soon.”

Fade snorted, brushing his head against my lead. “I guess,” He said sullenly, before perking up. “But I wish I was with you. I guess things got a little crazy after I left. Is…everyone alright?” He said, looking up at me. “Sylvia and that dwarf guy that was with you?”

My smile faded and I looked away from him. I was almost tempted to lie, but…I didn’t want to be that kind of person. “No,” I said softly. “Sylvia is…hurt, and needs help from Grey. And Hook…” I stopped for a moment, before continuing roughly. “Hook didn’t make it.”

“Oh.” Fade said in a whisper, his ears drooping. He didn’t say anything after that. He just curled his tail around my right leg, in an obvious attempt to comfort me.

Which, honestly?

I appreciated.

We walked along the viridian path Anima had laid out for us in silence after that. It wasn’t strained, though. It felt more like the two of us were drawing strength from each other.

The journey didn’t take much longer. After an indeterminable amount of time, the shape of a large door suddenly appeared at the end of the path. It was a plain door, wooden in make with a large emerald set into the surface of it. I just stared at it for a moment, at the incongruous appearance of the apparent portal to the real world, here in the land of shadows.

I huffed a small, mirthless laugh.

Meanwhile, Anima was finally speaking up again, after letting Fade and I have our walk together.

This is where I leave you.

Please hurry and dispatch the carcass of Rhazal.

Young Fade can’t follow you out there, so I’m afraid you’re on your own for this.

And Nathaniel?

I looked over at where I thought she was, away from the portal. "Yeah?"

Fret not over the machinations of my sister.

She thinks she has more power over these matters than she truly does.

Your will has not been tampered with.

You were simply in the right place, at the right time, for the right task.

Well.

That was...ominous and slightly comforting at the same time.

I'd freak out about it later.

I nodded, and knelt down to hug the illusionary form of my companion once again, with him returning it as well as he was able to.

“I’ll try to stop by once the war is over,” I whispered to him, in his lupine ear. “Until then, take care.”

“You take care,” Fade whispered back. “It sounds like you’re getting into too much trouble without me.”

I snorted and stood up. “Maybe,” I murmured, before speaking louder. “Goodbye, Fade.”

Fade looked up at me sadly for a moment before replying. “Goodbye, Nate.”

I dragged my gaze away from Fade’s and turned around. Approaching the door, I laid one hand on the bronze doorknob and twisted it. Before I could lose my nerve, I opened it, barely registering the bright pane of white light on the other side, and stepped through.

From one moment to the next, I was back.

I was in Elderwyck once more. It was dark, I noticed.

But not the dark of Rhazal’s murk. Instead, it just looked overcast, like it was about to rain on the ravaged city. Faint rays of sunlight peaked through the cloud cover allowing me to see my surroundings better.

I stood at the foot of Fort Duality, thankfully not appearing in midair from where I had been taken into the Concord.

Above lay the near corpse of Rhazal, slumped over in the ruins of the castle. His monstrous head was bowed over his chest, and on said chest, his folded wings had drooped to brush against the stone of the courtyard. His eyes were open and staring at nothing, not a spark of awareness in that titanic gaze.

From in between his legs, a small wisping circle of his murk still shrouded the Portal Stone.

I just looked up at him dully. “Let’s get this over with,” I said quietly. I looked at the staff in my hand, now grown silent. I was surprised Tlazo hadn’t spoken up before I had left the Concord, but maybe that was for the best. I don’t know what else we had to say to each other. Still, I couldn’t count on being able to use this thing out in the real world. I had no idea of any of my Skills would even work with it, and the Lich probably couldn't talk to me anymore.

I approached the wall of the Fort, and gently rested the stave against the stone.

I’d come back for it.

For Rhazal, I needed a different weapon.

Backing away, I pointed my new ‘Primordium’ hand up at the scales of Rhazal’s limp head, drew one of my Oninite daggers with my right, and cast Thorn Grapple. The Skill flew from my new hand with an ease even my old prosthetic hadn’t managed, quickly latching onto one of the scales of his head. In moments, I had flown up to rest feet first on the disgusting crown of Rhazal.

I knelt and rested the dagger point down on the head. Taking a deep breath, I activated The Scintillant Blade, for a moment wondering if it would spear out into a monstrous sword again like it had against my target’s soul. But no, the Skill functioned like normal, coating my weapon in cascading rainbow fire.

Letting a relieved breath out, I looked down and contemplated my target. For a moment, I thought about saying something pithy. Something to the effect of ‘Die, monster!’. But…

I didn’t bother.

I just wanted this to be over.

I depressed the switch on my dagger and it extended to its full length instantly, piercing through the scales easily to find the brain within. I was nearly knocked from my perch when the titanic body under my feet jerked in place, causing my heart to pick up in sudden fear that Rhazal wasn’t truly dead.

But no.

It was just death throes.

Beneath me, the gargantuan body of the Godbound began to dissolve into Miasma from the feet up, signalling his final, true death.

It was done.

I heaved a sigh of relief and went to retract my spear. But a familiar sensation stopped me.

At the point of contact with Rhazal’s flesh, deep inside of his brain, I felt a spark. Involuntarily, I began to draw in environmental Aether, in a process that had only happened to me a handful of times.

My eyes widened in sudden panic. I didn’t know what this could do to me, but I didn’t want to find out. “No, no, no, no, NO!” I almost screamed, trying to yank my spear out of the Calamity. “Not now, not with him!”

But I didn’t have a choice.

I was stealing a Skill, and I couldn’t stop it.

<<Chapter 208 | Table of Contents | Chapter 210>>

Chapter 208 - Blade of the System

I blinked at the Godbound’s resounding words as the Great Spirits lay silent. After a moment, I felt the attention of the four of them that weren’t shielding me fall upon my form. I shivered at the force of it, grateful that Anima was protecting me. Still, even her mist had stilled over my form, stopping the flow.

Tarus was the first to react.

Him?

He is not a spirit, shadow.

You cannot challenge a mortal to the Rite of Combat.

But Rhazal wasn’t to be stymied. His crushing voice carried a note of triumph when he spoke next.

BUT YOU ARE WRONG, INTERLOPER.

SEE HOW YOUR FELLOWS GROW SILENT.

THEY KNOW THE TRUTH.

THE PRECURSORS ARE AS MUCH SPIRIT AS THEY ARE MEN.

AS MUCH DIVINITY, AS THEY ARE MORTAL.

AS MY MISTRESS KNEW, SO TOO DO I.

THE PRECURSORS ARE AN EXISTENCE SEPARATE FROM ALL OTHERS.

AS SUCH, THEY FALL UNDER YOUR AUTHORITY.

From the shifting of the flames within Tarus’s sun, I got the impression that he was looking around at the other representations of the Great Spirits. They were silent, with varying degrees of confusion evident up on them. From the swirling depths of Neris to the rumblings of Orus, this almost looked to be news to them.

But not Elys. Her moonlight twinkled oddly.

Tarus noticed. His voice affected a note of shock.

Elys?

The Moon finally spoke, a note of almost guilt evident in it.

The abomination is…technically correct.

By rights, the existence of the Precurors is odd enough that they fall under our purview.

We have…simply never exercised that authority.

The abomination is within his right to challenge the child to the Rite of Combat.

Oh.

That didn’t sound good. I’m guessing this ‘Rite of Combat’ was some kind of duel. And…I didn’t exactly fancy my chances against Rhazal. The Godbound would squash me like a bug, and had nearly done so before the Great Spirits had barged into this realm.

Thankfully, Elys still had my back.

A sly note entered her voice then.

However…

The difference in strength is too great.

There is precedence in this matter.

Orus finally spoke up, a mote of understanding entering the grinding rumble of his voice.

AH!

I REMEMBER.

THE RITE THAT OCCURRED BETWEEN SILVENCE AND MANTINE.

I SEE.

Neris cackled then, the waters of her wave undulating from her mirth.

YOU HAVE DOOMED YOURSELF, USURPER.

Tarus finally seemed to understand, but he didn’t sound too happy about it.

Oh, if we must.

But it feels dirty to grant so much power to the apprentice of the man who stole Elys.

I was beyond lost at this point, but I at least had someone close by that I could ask what was going on. I looked down, doing my best to show that I was directing my attention to the diffuse form of Anima that lay all around me.

“Can…you fill me on what’s going on. Uh…Lady Anima?” I asked hesitantly.

Thankfuly, she had no problems answering me.

Just Anima is fine, Nathan.

And yes, I can. I suspect it’s my job, anyway.

What’s happened is that the Harrower has challenged you to a duel.

However, he’s too strong for such a duel to count as legitimate under our rules.

Thus, we’re going to equalize the power between the two of you.

Equalize our power?

“What does that mean?” I asked her, baffled.

Anima chuckled, her mist finally starting to flow once again.

Don’t worry. You’re not in any danger.

I’ll make sure you’re granted quite a boon, for such a service.

I then felt Anima’s attention stray from me, and up to the other Great Spirits.

My brothers and sisters, I am ready when you are.

A note of authority entered the voice of Elys then.

Let the evening of the scales begin.

Before I could wonder any further about what was going to happen to me, the mist of Anima’s diffuse form suddenly hardened beneath me. I almost yelped as I began to be pulled up into the air in the direction of the Great Spirits, standing on a platform of hardened Aetherial mist. When I came to a rest before the representations, and beheld the fullness of their mighty forms up close, I nearly lost consciousness from the pressure of their existences. But just like how my core ring had protected me from the pressure of Rhazal’s voice, it steadied me through this.

Which was a good thing, because they were intensifying.

Above me, I could see the Great Spirits pooling their collective power into what almost looked like a sphere. It was huge, and easily outshone even Tarus in it’s brilliancy, swirling in different colors to form a near rainbow of their own, similar in hue to my own Skill born flames.

Suddenly, a massive tendril of pure Aether lashed out from the sphere, easily crossing the distance of the Concord.

To Rhazal.

It wrapped around his gargantuan form, lifted him into the air, and began to drag him through his own murk

Closer to us.

The Godbound struggled against the leash of pure power that bound him, but it was for naught. It didn’t flex even once.

WHAT?

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

Elys chuckled at the Godbound’s near panic.

Setting the stage, of course.

Let us begin.

The Great Spirits shone brighter, their forms almost sharpening somehow

Whatever it was that they were doing...they'd started.

Rhazal arched his titanic back and screamed, his previously folded wings flaring wide and straight in his agony. He tried to scrabble against the massive tether that had bound itself to him, and it wasn’t hard to see why.

I think…it was draining his Aether.

Swirls of black and red smoke were flowing up that binding and collecting within the orb of strength that the Great Spirits had collected. When it reached that mass of power, it looked almost like…it was being purified. The malice and corruption that tainted the Aether was being drained away, leaving only the purity of green and blue in its wake. The refuse from the process was being dissipated out into the darkness of the Concord, flowing away into nothingness.

Rhazal objected to this, of course.

NO!

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

But the Great Spirits didn’t care. Instead, Anima just chuckled at him, for the first time sounding almost sinister.

What are we doing?

But…isn’t this what you wanted?

For a Rite of Combat to be legitimate…the participants must be close in strength.

We’re just taking what we need…from YOU.

You should not have called for a Rite that you did not fully understand, fool.

In a much gentler manner than it had with Rhazal, another line of Aether extended down from the orb above me, and snaked its way down to rest in front of me. I braced myself for whatever was about to happen, but I didn’t need to worry. The swaying end of the line gently connected to my chest, and I nearly doubled over at the sensation.

I swear, it felt like a livewire had just been connected to my very soul. The core of my being, where the crystalline tree dwelled, suddenly began to be flooded with Aether. The walls of my soul felt like they were stretching, like a taught muscle was being extended. It wasn't...painful so to speak, but it was a bit uncomfortable.

I…God. It felt like was suddenly growing stronger and stronger at a rate that was unbelievable. Newfound strength flooded my body in a surge that tingled through every single cell of my being. My hair felt like it was standing on end, and…

Holy crap, I was glowing. There was an actual, Aetherial glow rising up from the depths of my being, shining through my skin. Suddenly, I felt an itch inside of my brain, and something happened that nearly caused me to start weeping.

I reached up, and tore off the bandage covering my left eye.

I didn’t need it anymore.

I could see through it once more.

But…my middle ring didn’t return. Whatever had happened to me when I overtaxed myself saving Sylvia…this wasn’t enough to fix that.

It was enough to see again, though.

“Thank you,” I whispered into the air.

I swear I could hear the smile in Anima’s voice when she spoke next.

Oh, we’re not done.

You’re still missing a limb, after all.

I felt a bolt of lightning run down my spine at that, before looking down at the stump of my left arm in disbelief.

Were they about to…was that even….

A note of regret entered Anima’s disembodied voice.

Unfortunately…

We can’t regrow the arm.

You were too successful in integrating your prosthesis into your soul.

It’s a part of you, now.

Instead…

We’ll just replace what you gave up, to save your love.

Don’t worry.

We’ll use your own design.

It’s right there in your soul, after all.

Before I could even process what she meant, another leash of pure Aether whipped down from the purification sphere above. It connected itself to the cap of Mithril and Gold that I had melded to my flesh those months ago.

I heard Elys whisper something through her concentration.

You’ll have to shape it, Orus.

You’re the greatest crafter among us…

I heard Orus rumble in agreement from his mountain, before he directly spoke to me for the first time.

IT’S AN INTERESTING DESIGN, I’LL GIVE YOU THAT.

I CAN SEE THE INFLUENCE OF THE DWARVES UPON IT.

STILL.

IT CAN BE IMPROVED ON.

Before my astonished gaze, the Aether that was connecting to the cap on my arm began to condense.

No…it started to metallize. The pure Aether was becoming a metal that I had never seen before. It shined in a pure white manner, and across the surface of it, I could see flashes of a familiar hue. In the light cast in this dark place, I could see the cascade of my own rainbow fire.

If it was even possible, the new arm that was forming was even flashier than the gold and silver of my previous one.

When the new arm was finished coalescing, I marveled at it. I could see notes of the design that Grey, Azarus, and I had created, but this almost seemed perfected. More than what even Aetherial Melding could do, the craftsmanship of the prosthesis was impeccable.

When it connected smoothly to the cap on my arm, I felt a jolt run up and down the connection. I flexed the fingers of my new arm almost disbelievingly, before being interrupted by Tlazo speaking up. I had almost forgotten him, in the astonishment of gaining a new prosthesis. I was lucky I had never dropped the staff in the process.

“Primordium? I thought that was a myth!” The Lich asked disbelievingly, before scoffing in a disgusted manner. “Ugh. You know what, I’m done. I’ve had enough shocks today. You can’t surprise me anymore, any of you.”

I wanted to chuckle at how downright grumpy Tlazo was acting, but something else caught my eye, even as more and more Aether was poured into me.

Rhazal was shrinking.

Where before the Godbound was taller than most castles I’d seen, he was becoming smaller every minute that passed as more and more Aether was drained from him. Slowly, he regressed from castle sized, to house-sized…

To human-sized.

Now, he wasn’t even as tall as the hulking evolved form of his own Revenants.

The diminished Godbound clutched his taloned hands to his monstrous head and screamed. But not in the soul speak he had been in.

No, this was the physical voice he had tried to bargain with me in.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” He bellowed into the suddenly much clearer air. The murk that followed him around seemed to have almost entirely cleared out from this space. It didn’t even matter that it was supposed to have been his own.

He didn’t have the power to maintain it, anymore.

Tarus chuckled maliciously, seemingly much happier with this course of action now that Rhazal had been humbled.

We told you, shadow.

Your strength has been taken and equalized between you and the Precursor.

Now a duel between you will be much fairer.

He trailed off into a series of chortles that caused flares in the surface of his sun. Elys picked up for him, now that he was too busy being satisfied.

If you manage to win the duel…then the strength will be returned to you.

But only if you win.

Nathaniel.

I nearly jumped at being so directly addressed, but restrained the impulse. Instead, I cleared my throat, curling my new hand into a fist and coughing into it. “Ah…yes?”

Do not worry about the taint of Rhazal afflicting you from…this.

Although we are outside of the purview of the System, here in the Concord, you are protected.

His corruption will not touch you.

Unfortunately, that means you won’t be able to keep the power if YOU win the duel.

It will disperse instead.

Uh.

Well, I hadn’t been worried about being corrupted until you said it had been a possibility, but thanks for heading that off? I restrained the impulse to mouth off to a Greater Spirit and merely nodded at the giant moon.

That seemed to be enough for her.

Now.

Let the duel begin.

Both Rhazal and I began to be lowered to the ground beneath us, with the diminished Godbound thrashing and screaming all the while. I found my feet almost easily, but…

Not so much for Rhazal.

The servant of Ixiah stumbled around almost drunkenly on taloned feet, seeming almost unable to hold himself up under his own power. He…was suddenly much less intimidating, now that we had apparently been ‘equalized’.

I don’t even know what that meant. I didn’t even feel that much stronger, physically, which was confusing. I cautiously took a step forward, fearing I would be as unsteady as Rhazal.

But no. I could control my body just fine. I had been worried for a moment that I would suffer the opposite problem of him, and crater the ground beneath me in a display of unexpected might.

However, the movement seemed to have caught the attention of Rhazal. He suddenly turned his crimson eyes in my direction and snarled. “You…,” He hissed. “This is all YOUR fault! I will feast on your soul for A THOUSAND YEARS FOR THIS INDIGNITY!”

At that, Rhazal broke out into a stumbling clumsy run in my direction, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so. When he reached me, I just…leaned out of the way of his claw swipe.

And then the next.

And the next.

It was…pathetically easy to dodge the Godbound’s ‘blows’. I had faced more adversity from regular monsters in the wilds of Vereden. Hell, I’d had to pay more attention to the flailings of the deformed monsters created by the Break Stones. Rhazal didn't have an ounce of real skill in his monstrous form. I suppose that, since he had been born with all of his power, he had never needed to develop it. Not only that, but we seemed to be, like the Spirits had mentioned, nearly equal in strength and speed. They had taken a damned Calamity, and drained him down to the level of someone that hadn't even passed the first breakpoint.

This was almost…sad.

Almost.

Few things probably deserved this humiliation more.

Tlazo apparently agreed. “How the mighty have fallen,” He said, deep, deep satisfaction in his disincorporated voice. “Disperse ME, will you? HA! This is incredibly cathartic.”

A voice boomed out from above, startling me enough that Rhazal nearly managed to hit me.

Nearly.

DO GET ON WITH IT, PRECURSOR.

I UNDERSTAND PLAYING WITH YOUR FOOD, BUT WE DON’T HAVE ALL DAY.

Wow. I…don’t think I was interested in crossing Neris. She sounded a bit…viscous.

But she was still right. This entire ‘duel’ was a forgone conclusion.

It was time to finish this. And I might as well do it with the Skill that had called the Great Spirits here in the first place.

I looked down at the stave in my right hand, and shrugged.

Well, it had worked earlier, even if it wasn’t supposed to. Might as well see if it would work again.

I pointed Tlazo’s staff at the charging, frothing-at-the-mouth form of Rhazal, and mentally triggered The Scintillant Blade.

When I did, I was finally able to see the power that had been gifted to me.

A colossal blade of pure, condensed rainbow fire instantly sprang into being before me, longer than a house. The glare from the construct was so bright that it instantly outshone both the representations of Elys and Tarus, casting deep, dancing, prismatic shadows through the Concord. It was so massive that I didn’t even need to do anything with it, much less swing at Rhazal.

It had sliced him in half in an instant, after all. With his reduced strength, little skill, and blinding rage, the 'Calamity' had run straight into the point of the construct. His legs and lower arms slid forward underneath the gigantic blade that had bisected him, while his upper half rested on top of it. The dying Godbound only had enough time to blink at me in disbelief before I almost instinctively canceled the skill, sending his torso flopping to the ground.

“How…” Rhazal was only able to whisper, before he dissolved into black smoke. All that remained of the former Calamity wisped upwards into the air of the Concord…

And dispersed, forever.

Above me, I heard Tarus breathe in deeply, before letting out a satisfied sigh.

Ah…

Contentment.

<<Chapter 207 | Table of Contents | Chapter 209>>

Chapter 207 - Beacon in the Dark

I stood alone in the darkened shadow of my home that Rhazal had conjured into being, with Tlazo’s staff as my only companion. Creeping in from out of the corner of my eye, a dense fog of thick black smoke was rolling along the empty hills beyond the copy of my neighborhood that Rhazal had created. Within that murk, I saw countless familiar forms of Revenants forming from the corrupted Aether of their progenitor, stalking back and forth. Faint howls echoed out of the gloom that skulked along cracked asphalt.

But I wasn’t afraid.

The Lich could talk as much as he wanted about how my actions were foolish, and I just might have doomed myself.

But I didn’t regret them one fucking bit. Anyone, or anything, that wanted me to commit betrayal on a planetary scale could go and die.

And I intended to make that a promise.

I grit my teeth and picked up Tlazo’s staff from where I had dropped it during my attempted calamitous assassination, and gripped it firmly in my one remaining fist.

Something odd happened then.

Even though I had discarded my dagger after my attack on Rhazal, I hadn’t dropped my mental hold on The Scintillant Blade. I wasn’t expecting anything to happen when I touched the stave, as the Skill explicitly only worked on bladed weapons.

But not now.

The minute my hand touched the Liches ebony staff, the amber stone at its apex lit up in a familiar cascade of rainbow fire. Startled, I didn’t even think to let go of the flaming staff as the blaze on the cap began to grow and grow and GROW.

For the first time, The Scintillant Blade was working on something other than a blade.

And it was only growing stronger.

In moments, I held a staff upon which a massive tower of prismatic flame rose like a bonfire into the sky wisping back and forth. It lit up the darkened surroundings of the facsimile around me like a lighthouse piercing the storm. The Rhazalian smoke that had been writhing down the streets of this wasteland ceased moving, and the suddenly illuminated forms of the Revenants within unexpectedly shied away from the scintillating light that I cast.

Through the flames, I saw the core of the amber glow a familiar green. “What…is this?” Tlazo whispered into the silence of my mind. “I feel…I FEEL…for the first time in decades. A warmth that pierces the comforting chill of death.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t like it.”

“I…don’t know,” I said over the roar of the flames, confused. “I’m just as lost as you. This Skill…it’s not meant to work with staves.”

I didn’t get to marvel at my own oddly behaving Skill.

Rhazal was not to be stymied.

A rumble echoed through the murk of the dissolving Texan neighborhood, and the Godbound

YOUR FLAMES WILL NOT AVAIL YOU, PRECURSOR.

THEY ARE KNOWN TO ME.

The great crimson eye in the sky that had replaced the summer sun suddenly shined. A crimson sheen suddenly wisped its way through the smoke of Rhazal’s darkness. The screams and cries of the Revenants that stalked inside of it transformed, growing deeper and more humanlike. Revenants that had padded on four scaled feet within suddenly stood upon two legs, evolving rapidly. Where before had been the familiar forms of the winged beast that had been assaulting Elderwyck and Tlatec, suddenly they were more than that.

All of them to the last had transformed into the elevated forms of the Revenant that Baldric had sacrificed himself to kill. The form of the beast that had taken everything from a centuries old master assassin.

Through the smoke suddenly illuminated by an ominous sanguine light, I could see hundreds of them. I don’t think even Grey could handle a force like this, not even with the help of Honoka.

But…

I still wasn’t afraid. I knew I couldn’t hope to fight these off on my own. I would have to be suddenly stronger than my own mentor, gaining hundreds and hundreds of levels in an instant.

Luckily…I wasn’t alone.

Another light suddenly shown through the darkness from behind me. The silverly light that cast my own form in shadow before me was a familiar one, after all.

I turned, and beheld what I knew was going to be there.

Piercing through the murk of the Godbound, on the opposite side of the sky from the crimson eye of Rhazal, was a shining silver moon. Not just any moon, though.

Elys.

Shining as brightly as I had ever seen her, she floated full and heavy on the horizon. Her surface gleamed smooth and perfect, bereft of the pockmarks of a normal satellite.

A new voice sang through the gloom. This one was feminine, cool, and familiar to me in a way that was incredibly relieving. Similar to how Rhazal projected his voice into the world, this one spoke directly to the soul as well. And yet, it wasn’t half as harsh as the Calamity’s was. It didn’t crush down on my spirit in the way that his did.

Instead, it was almost soothing.

You have erred, abomination. You should never have allowed the child into this realm.

A sun suddenly blazed into the being to the right of Elys, mighty and powerful. It shone brighter than anything else in this realm, casting fiery rays of light into the now much brighter realm. The evolved Revenants that Rhazal had conjured into being shied away from this light even more than they had that of Elys, screeching in fear. Another voice echoed through what Tlazo had called the Concord, strong, masculine, and most of all…

Proud.

For so many years, you dared to cast your disgusting shadow over that of my glorious form.

I cannot even begin to describe how much I’ll enjoy this.

That uh…that must be Tarus. I suppose it wasn’t surprising that he was a Greater Spirit just like Elys had turned out to be. The Sun and the Moon were intertwined, after all. He sure sounded….

Well, pissed off.

Two more forms emerged from the mist that Rhazal had cast over this space. The first was that of a gigantic mountain, rising from the earth to tower between the illuminated forms of the Sun and the Moon. The jagged peak of the thing almost gleamed in the light cast upon it, and that gleam looked to be glowering out at the world.

The second was that of a wave, furious and roiling as it rose to join the mountain. The darkened waters of the wave were painted with a froth that churned endlessly in the conflicting light of the Concord around me. In its depths, I swear that I saw the forms of innumerable titanic fish, gnashing with long, jagged teeth.

From the mountain came the voice of an older man, tired, cranky, and yet firm as the pillars that bound creation. It grumbled out into the world, sending shockwaves through the ground I stood upon.

THAT I SHOULD BE AWOKEN FOR SUCH A THING…

A tempestuous voice cut in then, feminine and treacherous as the sea. Within it, I could hear a deep, deep rage, bound only by the whims of its owner. It gave the impression that at any moment, it could turn on the world and drown it for amusement’s sake alone.

COME NOW. IF THERE IS ANYTHING THAT WE ARE BOUND TO DEAL WITH, IT IS THIS USURPER AND HIS DOUBLE-CROSSING MISTRESS.

“Orus and Neris. The Land and The Sea,” Tlazo whispered to me, from the depths of the bonfire I was still casting. He sounded shocked. “I thought they were dead. They haven’t been heard from in over a millennium. Not since…” I almost got the sense that the Lich was shaking his head to cut himself off. “If four of the Great Spirits are here, then…”

As he spoke, something else cut through the gloom. This wasn’t a grand shape that pierced through the darkness like the illumination of Elys or Tarus, nor was it the titanic forms of Orus or Neris.

No, this was more subtle.

Winding its way through the darkened mist was another kind. A soft green dew that crept through the murk, almost appearing to dance around it, carpeting the world in its gentle embrace. When it reached me, it curled around my feet almost fondly. At its touch, I felt rejuvenated, almost completely in defiance of all my troubles over the last few days. It was like both my weary body and soul were being healed by the mist.

A voice whispered, then, caring and motherly. It wasn’t broadcasting out into the world, and it didn’t seem like it was talking to either Rhazal or the other Great Spirits.

This was meant for me.

Don’t worry, Nathaniel. You’re not alone.

We’ll have this sorted out soon.

“Great Anima…the Font of Life,” Tlazo whispered reverently. It almost sounded like the Lich was as close to tears as he could come. “That you should come now, at the brink of disaster. You DO still care, Whisperer…”

Whisperer…

That tickled something in the back of my mind, but I had no time to chase the memory. ‘Anima’ spoke again, this time to the Lich. Whoever they were, they sounded almost fondly exasperated with him.

I will always come, Rafael. Even for those who have cast off their flesh.

Tlazo sounded he took a deep breath then, even though he was just a disembodied spirit. “Forget you heard that name,” He said to me almost warningly. “It has long since been cast off.”

Already forgotten, ‘Rafael’.

Almost absently-mindedly, I finally let go of The Scintillant Blade, causing the towering spire of rainbow flame to wink out. Whatever had happened with the Skill…it seemed to have done it’s job.

Besides, it wasn’t nearly the brightest thing in this space anymore.

Rhazal finally responded to the appearance of the Great Spirits, here in his very own realm. A note of pure fury entered his voice, and the single enormous crimson eye in the sky pulsed brighter.

INTERLOPERS!

YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME IN MY OWN DOMAIN?!

Tarus was the one to answer him.

Of course we do. You still dare to exist, after all.

And you forget yourself, abomination, Elys continued.

Your mistress and her ilk thought to blend the calamitous and the spiritual when they crafted you.

That rightfully places you under our purview.

However, the gods were always so careful to keep your kind from our reach. But now…

YOU’VE PLACED YOURSELF RIGHT IN THE PALM OF OUR HANDS.

AND SO WE SHALL PASS JUDGMENT

Neris and Orus sounded out, sounding delighted and grim, respectively.

Rhazal actually growled, an almost lizard-like sound that emanated in waves across the realm, rattling my bones.

HOW ARE YOU EVEN HERE?

MY MISTRESS SAW TO IT THAT MY DOMAIN WAS LOCKED TO YOU!

Anima finally pitched into the greater conversation, her voice mocking Rhazal in contrast to the comforting tone she had spoken to Tlazo and I in.

You still haven’t guessed, abomination?

It was the child.

Their flames, amplified by the soul-stave of another, acted as a beacon. Without him, we would have never found our way in.

But now…

Tarus finished the exchange, sounding maliciously excited.

It is the end for you, shadow.

At that, all of the Great Spirits acted at once. They surged in power to an extent that I would have been crushed, if I wasn’t being shielded. Anima had covered me in her green mist, shielding me from the colossal powers flaring before me, even as she attacked as well. Surges of pure, destructive Aether emanated from each of the Spirits, manifesting as representations of their selves.

Scouring silver moonlight from Elys and scorching hot rays of fire from Taru impacted the eye of Rhazal, sending him reeling back with a chiropteran screech of pain. Great spires of stone from Orus, taller than any tower, speared into the rapidly coalescing full form of the Godbound, while razor-sharp whips of sea brine flensed the scales from his spiritual bones. At the same time, the mist that Anima had coated the world in swallowed all of the Revenants that Rhazal had birthed, dissolving them instantly. That same mist, what seemed to be a direct counter to Rhazals own, began to creep up and devour him as well.

But Rhazal wasn’t done.

A shockwave echoed from the fully manifested form that I’d seen towering over Elderwyck, knocking away the strengths of the Great Spirits. In the brief moment of respite that he was granted, he bellowed out into the void.

ENOUGH!

YOU SAY I AM UNDER YOUR PURVIEW?!

THEN I ACCEPT IT!

I KNOW YOUR RULES, WISPS! I KNOW HOW YOU ARE BOUND!

I DEMAND MY RITE!

Instantly, the attacks against the Godbound from the Great Spirits ceased. But it didn’t seem to be voluntary. I could almost feel the strain that they were under, as they tried to continue attacking Rhazal. After a moment, however, they ceased, albeit reluctantly.

Elys was the first to speak, coldly.

Very well then, abomination. You shall have your ritual.

Who do you challenge, for your Rite of Combat?

Rhazal’s great crimson eyes fell on me then, full of furious malice from stories above me in the distance. I shivered at the regard he placed on me.

HE WHO LED YOU TO THIS PLACE.

THE PRECURSOR.

……………………………………..

AN: I worry about this chapter, honestly. I almost wonder if it’s too much of an escalation in comparison to the rest of the story, even though it’s not happening in the physical world. It’s really all just representations too broad for Nate’s feeble fleshy brain to comprehend.

Either way, the Elderwyck saga, complete with Calamity, reaches it’s climax next chapter.

But the book isn’t done.

<<Chapter 206 | Table of Contents | Chapter 208>>

Chapter 206 - A Deal From the Devil

This was…

Well, it was laughable. Was this really what this creature had brought me here for, into this replica of my childhood neighborhood? To try and recruit me?

I…really?

I could feel my facial expression twist slightly as I tried to hold in a hysterical laugh at the thought, but the copy of Grey that stood before me didn’t react at all. I managed to keep it down, all the while my core ring indulged in the disbelieving laughter I didn’t let escape me.

What the hell was Rhazal thinking? What made it think that I was open to such a thing? I liked to consider myself a fairly loyal person, all together. I didn’t take any kind of notion of treachery seriously at all. What did I even have to gain from switching sides and joining up with a goddamned Calamity?

So I asked him.

“Why would I do that?” I asked Rhazal bluntly. “I like the life I’m building well enough here, so why would I jeopardize that to sign up with you?”

Rhazal didn’t blink at my question. In fact, I had noticed that he wasn’t blinking at all, nor were there any elements of other autonomic bodily functions on his illusionary puppet. Like…breathing, for instance.

“Because you are doomed if you do not,” He answered bluntly. “Not a one of you insects before me is capable of matching my might, and soon I will finish subverting the Portal Stone. When I am done, my mistress will stride the soil of this world once more, and with her will come her armies. None upon this soon to be blighted world can resist her. Kyron and Yorgun are long dead. The Humans and Dwarves are unshielded from her influence. All of Vereden shall be as lambs to the slaughter before her.”

I frowned slightly, noting those names. I had never heard them before, but I didn’t dwell on it. “How can you be so sure we can’t fight back?” I said defiantly. “We aren’t as weak as you think we are. There are strong people here. In the face of annihilation, we could band together and push you, and her, out.”

A flash of almost amusement swam through the imitation’s eyes before something unexpected happened.

A mountainous pressure, comprised of pure energy, pure Aether, fell upon my shoulders out of nowhere. The force of it was so strong, and so unassailable, that I was immediately driven to my knees from the power alone. I slammed into the false pavement of this manufactured world, struggling to remain upright using Tlazo’s staff as an anchor. I failed, and slumped over onto my hands as well. I groaned, feeling what felt like an entire ocean pressing down on me. I could feel my bones straining under the weight pressing down on me.

I feel my soul strain, too. In this place, I was more conscious of the crystalline tree at the core of my being, and I felt it creak and groan from the might.

As if from a great distance, I heard Rhazal speak again. “No, you cannot,” He said with finality. “Though I have slept in these years since the end, I still dreamed. And in those dreams, I have seen the state of this world. Vereden is weak and diminished in the wake of the Great War. You have no Paragons. You have no deities. Your Great Spirits are culled and weakened, from millennia of straining to hold the fabric of your world together. There is no defense that you can muster before the might of my mistress.”

The pressure bearing down upon me abruptly ceased, and I slumped down onto my front in its absence. I lay there gasping for a moment before I found my strength and struggled to my feet, using my borrowed staff to help me to them. When I was standing once more, I found that Rhazal hadn’t moved even once during his little show of strength. He just kept on watching me with a blank gaze.

He spoke again before I could find my voice. “It is possible, if unlikely, that one of your champions could manage to slay me in combat,” Rhazal admitted freely, seemingly uncaring about the possibility of his own death. “I am diminished from my long slumber and my absence from the side of my mistress. But that is irrelevant. Such a thing will not occur in time to prevent me from opening the way for her. Already, I can feel the faintest trace of her grace as if from a great distance, groping against the barrier that separates us.”

I felt a bolt of adrenaline roll down my spine at his words. I wanted to lash out at him immediately, to try and do my best to stop the doom that he described. But I still didn’t know how I was supposed to kill him, to my frustration. I could only hope it would become evident to me, if I drew this out. “And what do you offer, Harrower?” I asked warily. “What could you possibly give me, to make me turn my back on all that I know?”

Rhazal leaned forward on his imitation of Elarux. “A seat…at my mistress's side,” He said, an empty smile on his stolen lips. “You would not be the first Precursor to serve as the hand of god. Your kind have ever made excellent weapons, when suborned from the yoke of the System. Do not look so surprised,” He said, at my obvious shock. “Your kind are mortals, after all. And mortals are subject to temptation. My mistress can offer you anything you desire. Nothing is beyond her reach. Power and riches beyond imagining could be bestowed upon you. Companions, esoteric knowledge and skills, mighty Artefacts. Nothing is beyond the reach of She Who Devours. You need only agree to serve, and it could all be yours.”

I frowned, still troubled by the thought that other men and women from Earth could have agreed to be the plaything of divinity. Not only that, but how Rhazal had directly mentioned the System, when he was from an age before the Initialization. “How can you make this offer?” I asked pointedly, pushing those thoughts away. “You haven’t spoken to your goddess in millennia.”

Rhazal slowly shook Grey’s head. “I am empowered to speak for my mistress in these matters. She would not let opportunity escape her grasp.”

I was silent for a moment, letting his offer roll over me. A thought occurred. “What if…” I said slowly, drawing out my words. “I wanted to go home?”

Rhazal didn’t blink. “Elaborate.”

I gestured around me, to the recreated neighborhood from my younger years. “You created this place for a reason. You felt my attachment to these streets, these homes on Earth. I had another life here, before I was taken to Vereden. If I asked it of her…could your mistress return me to that world?”

Rhazal examined me for a moment. “Of course she could,” He said eventually. “You need only agree to a period of servitude, and my mistress possesses the power to return you to the world of your birth. All you need to do…is take my hand, and the pact will be sealed.” At that, the creature extended his false right hand in my direction, outstretched for me to take.

Only…

I had caught him in a lie.

While I was never intending to sign up with the literal forces of evil, I had wanted to see what their pitch was.

And it was all fake.

There was no way back to Earth they could offer me. Not for me. Not for any Precursor.

The only way back was through the death of all the gods.

Maybe.

If Rhazal was offering a way back home for me…

Then nothing he promised was true.

I plastered a fake, eager smile on my lips and approached the long-abandoned Calamity. As I did so, I palmed something. Something I had long since had up my literal sleeve.

Doing my best to give nothing away, I paused for a moment before I could set my hand against the false flesh of Rhazal’s. “One more question, before we finish this,” I said evenly.

“Speak,” The monster said evenly.

I moved in a flash, activating everything that I possibly could in that moment.

Thorn Cloak for the protection.

Sylvan Vigor at max capacity, for the strength and speed.

Grasping Roots, to hold the imitation in place.

And finally…

The Scintillant Blade, on the small throwing dagger I had hidden up my sleeve.

As crimson roots exploded from the asphalt to wrap around Rhazals legs, I reached out. Instead of his hand, I grasped the forearm of the disgusting replica of my mentor, and yanked it forward.

Right onto my brilliantly burning dagger.

It sank into the stomach of the shadow, meeting little resistance. At the same time, I gouged the blade upwards, opening a massive, gaping hole into the surface of Rhazal’s puppet.

I leaned forward, until my eyes met the impersonations of my mentors. My emerald, against the black and silver of its.

“Do you feel pain?” I hissed to the monster responsible for the death of so, so many innocents.

Rhazal simply met my eyes for a moment, before looking down at the dagger I had buried deep into its chest. The rent I had opened up on the façade of its mouthpiece gaped open, revealing a mass of swirling, corrupted, black Aetherial smoke instead of innards. It stepped back from me, letting my blade free from its chest with a sound akin to a cork popping from a bottle.

A measure of disappointment entered the eyes of the thing that had tried to tempt me. “You have chosen…poorly, Precursor.” He finally said. Moments later, the entire facsimile of Grey that Rhazal had conjured before me…dispersed. It unraveled into a mass of black smoke that dissipated into the false summer air of the Texan replica I stood in.

In moments, it was as if it had never existed at all.

Silence fell on the neighborhood for a moment, before Tlazo broke it.

“Well,” The Lich said thoughtfully. “I’ll say this. That was, at the very least, bold of you. Potentially monumentally foolish, of course. But bold nonetheless.”

I discarded the tiny throwing dagger I had used to gore the clone of Grey off to the side, a frown crossing my lips as I looked around. I was ready for Rhazal's counterattack at any moment. There was no way this was over. “You know as well as I do that this was only ever going to go one way,” I said out loud, no longer caring about subterfuge. “It’s not like I was going to take his deal.”

“I suppose,” Tlazo said doubtfully. “But I must ask…did you consider it? The deal with the proverbial demon.”

I kept silent at his question. I don’t think there was a force on any world that could ever get me to acknowledge that I…had. For one short moment, my core ring had considered the idea of it. Serving at the feet of a goddess would have…simplified matters for me. I would have become a direct servant to a woman who would have shortly ruled two planets, instead of being the measly apprentice of a schoolteacher in a war-torn, weakened country. I’m sure Ixiah would have been able to grant me untold riches, and power, and whatever the hell I wanted.

But it would have meant spitting on everything that everyone had done for me since I had arrived on Vereden.

Azarus, for saving me from a life of slavery by accepting me into his home.

Bleddyn, for fighting at my side for freedom.

Grey, for everything he had patiently taught me.

Honoka, for the advice and healing she had freely gifted me.

Sylvia…

I couldn’t do that to them.

Which wasn’t even counting the millions of people on Vereden I would have been directly condemning, by signing up with a literal evil goddess.

I had chosen my path. And it didn’t lay with Ixiah.

Now I just had to find out what lay on that path.

Something caught my eye, as I was looking around. A curl of black smoke had emerged from the bright blue sky. Slowly, it snaked across the skyline until it had met the shining figure of the sun. In moments, in a reflection of the real world, it had covered the surface of Sol’s imitation.

The world plunged into darkness, before the light of the corrupted star shone down upon the world once more. This time, a crimson red.

The familiar light of the sun from my home had been replaced by Rhazal’s massive bloody eye, glaring down at me. In the moments the world had been darkened, it had changed.

The sky was enshrouded in the black mist and smoke that I suspect was his calling card, and the reproduction of my childhood home he had made to unsettle me had been…corrupted.

It had decayed. Or rather…rotted.

The homes had all fallen into severe disrepair and were falling into themselves, looking to have been suddenly neglected for decades. Withered growth had cracked the streets and sidewalks, turning them into so much rubble. Dust and the scent of death was now upon the howling wind, instead of the comforting smell of oak.

My own family home had been torn down, and in its place, there was nothing. Not a single timber remained of my childhood. Only a blank, lonely lot lingered.

A familiar voice pierced the apocalyptic wasteland that I stood in. A familiar one, no longer pretending to speak in a physical manner.

PRECURSOR.

NOW YOU SHALL PAY THE PRICE FOR YOUR HUBRIS.

<<Chapter 205 | Table of Contents | Chapter 207>>

Chapter 205 - Facsimile

I…in my heart, I knew that this couldn’t really be Earth. Only moments ago, I had been standing in a smoky void, speaking to a disembodied skeleton man. And before that, I had been in the middle of a city under siege by a colossal monster. There was no feasible way, after everything I had learned about Precursors, that I had suddenly be returned to Earth.

But it didn’t matter, in that moment.

I couldn’t even begin to describe the emotions rolling over me as I numbly stared out at the landscape in front of my eyes.

It was…so, so real. The sights and the smells and even the feeling of the sun and wind on my battle-dirtied skin.

But, gradually, something pierced the shock that had settled over both my outer and core rings.

The sound was off.

Back home, this was a working-class neighborhood. That meant there was always something going on, in the summer that I could feel and smell all around me. Children running to and fro, getting into all kinds of mischief. Parents and regular joes talking in the yard or cooking up a storm over a grill. Teens loitering on the sidewalks, complaining about whatever had managed to blight them that day.

That was the problem. There were no people.

That, finally, managed to knock me out of my near awe. This neighborhood had never been this abandoned in my life.

And right now, it was a near ghost town.

I took a deep breath, and used my one good hand to unsteadily push myself to my feet. As I did so, a sneer worked its way onto my face.

“Almost, Rhazal,” I said, fury growing inside my breast. “Almost, but not quite. You’re not going to break me this way.”

“Is this Terra, then?” I heard a quiet voice speak to me then, in the back of my mind. I almost wanted to instinctually lash out at it in my anger, but I recognized it as Tlazo. I nearly spoke out loud to address his question, but I didn’t dare. Rhazal could be watching me this very moment and I wouldn’t know. That would put the Lich that had already done so much for me at even greater risk. “Surprisingly mundane, for such a mysterious locale. I must say, though, what curious metal carriages you possess.”

I didn’t speak, but I did direct a consternated look at the stave I still held in my right hand. Since he could apparently perceive my surroundings, I was hoping he could see me as well.

He got the point.

“Oh, you can just speak to me in your mind and I’ll hear it,” Tlazo said dismissively. “I think the old boy is a bit rusty, in his dotage. He shaped this space from impression inherent to your soul, and in doing so, he widened the, ah, ‘throughput’, so to speak. This gave me the chance to more directly connect to you, as long as you hold the stave. Such an interaction is only possible here in the depths of the Concord.”

I briefly wondered how a Lich would understand a concept like ‘throughput’, but just chalked it down to Language Adaptation. Instead, I just tried to mentally speak to him. “Yes, this is where I grew up,” I projected at him, the anger I couldn’t curb with my missing middle ring coloring the tone of the thought. “But it’s wrong, because there are no people.”

“Unsurprising,” Tlazo replied. “A creature like a Godbound was never born, and thus does not understand attachments. It was never swaddled in the arms of mother, or supported by a steady father. It cannot understand or quantify such things, when an engineered being such as Rhazal lives only for the desires of its creator. Thus is it incapable of populating such a location with even facsimiles of people. Just more evidence that Ixiah is an incompetent sculptor, when even Greycton was able to instill the spark of true life into his Sculpted.”

“Why even try then?” I said, a frown creeping its way onto my face, my eyes lingering on a nearby house. I had been friends with that family’s child when I was young, and I was unsettled by how accurate the house was. It was so lifelike that I could even make out the mistakes in the paint job on its brick façade, from when I’d been paid to do it one summer.

“Because it’s trying to unsettle you, of course,” Tlazo said, deadpan. “To what end, I cannot say. I suppose you’ll just have to explore and find out.”

I snorted. “No need. If it’s trying to fuck with me, I know where to go.” Having said that, I took a step forward, the false asphalt under my feet crunching.

As I walked slowly down the road to my destination, I kept my head on a swivel. It was just so eerie to see such a familiar place so still and lifeless. I felt a chill run down my spine when I realized that it reminded me of zombie movies. I half expected old Mrs. Livingston to come shuffling out of her little house, arms extended and moaning about brains.

I shuddered at the thought, and kept moving.

Before long, I had reached the end of the road, and entered into the cul-de-sac that I knew was waiting for me. Once I did, I took another moment to stop and just…take it all in.

Yep…there was my home. The house that I had grown up in, and…

Where my father had likely been left to die, after I had been spirited away to Vereden.

It wasn’t large, considering my parents' income when they bought it. Only a single story, and constructed in a fairly generic American style, it had, once upon a time, been painted a cheery yellow. The paint had been an idea of my mother’s way back in the day before I had even been born.

But, by the time I had disappeared, it was old and faded. It looked more like a dirty white, than anything.

Even before I’d been spirited away, I had thought it was sad. I just…hadn’t known what to do with it.

I sighed, and approached my house using the driveway. As I did, I let my hand ghost along the surface of my car still parked on the pavement, a wry smile crossing my lips as I did so. It wasn’t anything special, just a generically painted silver econobox that I had slaved away at few dead end jobs for. But it was mine, and I had loved it for its reliability.

Was. Was mine.

It had probably been junked by now, with my disappearance. It’s not like dad could use it.

I looked away, and kept walking up to the door, with its peeling paint. Once there, I lay my hand on the doorknob and tried it.

Locked.

My eyebrow twitched at the pettiness of it. “Really? Really?” I said out loud, looking up at the false sky. “You’re going to lock the door on me?” I shook my head.

For a wild moment, I considered just breaking the door down. I was certainly strong enough to do it, these days. But the idea of defiling even an illusion of my childhood home in such a manner felt…wrong.

Instead, I let my gaze fall on the doorbell.

I shrugged.

Couldn’t hurt, I suppose.

I pressed the button, and the novelty doorbell that my dad had installed before I was even born rang out inside the house. I think the sound had been from some eighties movie about close encounters with aliens.

Would you look at that. Rhazal had even gotten that right.

I was a little startled when I heard footsteps approaching the door from inside the house. I braced myself, though. That had to be Rhazal. If there was nobody else in the neighborhood, and he wanted to ‘parley’ with me, then this must be how he wanted to do it.

I thought I was ready for his monstrous appearance writ small to be standing in the doorway.

But that wasn’t who was waiting for me.

Instead, it was my father.

Only…

How he had been before the accident that had robbed him of the life he had built.

My father hadn’t been a tall man, and by the time I was eighteen, I had outgrown him by a full head. On his own head, he still had the full head of long, blonde, thinning hair that had fallen out after his accident, pulled back in a ponytail like he had all those years ago. Striking green eyes peered up at me from behind thick, coke-bottle glasses, and a smile graced his thin lips like I hadn’t seen in years. I barely paid any attention to what he was wearing before I shut my eyes and grit my teeth.

Before the replica of my father could even speak, I preempted him. “Is this how you parley with others, Rhazal?” I spoke slowly, doing my best not to lose my temper. I was dearly missing my middle ring right now, because it was a struggle. “You torment them with images of those they have lost? Before this proceeds any further, I demand you assume another form.”

Silence, for a moment.

Then a deep, inhuman voice, a quizzical translation of Rhazal’s inflection from outside from a spiritual one into the physical, rang out. “Does this satisfy then, Precursor?”

I cracked open one eye to see what he’d changed into, only to hurriedly squeeze it back shut. But…not before I caught a glimpse of long brown hair, and a caring, motherly smile.

My grip on Tlazo’s staff tightened. If this had been anything other than an ancient Lich’s staff, I’m sure it would have snapped in half at the force I was applying to it.

“No,” I hissed. “Anything other than those two. Join me in the street when you’re done playing games. I will not treat with you inside this building.”

I refused to sully even an imitation of such a precious place with such a…vile presence, any longer.

At that, I spun around and marched away from my family home into the center of the cul-de-sac. As I did so, I heard Tlazo’s voice in my mind once again.

“As I said,” The Lich said quietly. “He cannot understand his own blasphemy.”

I shouldn’t be surprised, that the dead were more empathetic than the monstrous.

After all, Tlazo had been human.

Once.

After a time spent staring up at the sky and struggling to control my emotions, I heard footsteps approach me from behind. I braced myself before I turned around. If this thing looked like either of my parents, I was prepared to call this entire thing off, consequence be damned. If I caught sight of soft brown hair once again, I would immediately attack, even if it did nothing.

There was only so much I could take.

But, it wasn’t either of my parents waiting for me behind my back.

Instead, it was Grey. The illusionary form of the mentor I hadn’t seen in weeks was standing there on the pavement in his full Order armor, Stellarum sheathed at his waist and Elarux held in his right hand. ‘He’ was leaning on the staff and smiling at me, in that knowing way Grey tended to do.

Irritating, but tolerable.

I suppose this thing thought I was more likely to listen to it, if it affected the form of an authority figure from my life.

Hah.

“So, oh son of Rot,” I said, leaning on my own borrowed stave. “You wished to parley. Make your pitch.”

The facsimile of Grey hadn’t blinked once, since it had taken up position in front of me. That didn’t change when an imitation of Grey’s own voice exited its mouth, devoid of all human emotion. “I shall be blunt, blade of the System. Why do you fight for them?”

I blinked at the odd question. “Excuse me?”

“Why do you fight for them?” Grey-Rhazal asked me again patiently. “Why do you involve yourself in the wars of Vereden, when you are alien to them? Why do you champion the causes of a people who you have no stake with?”

“Because…” I said slowly. “I am alien to them. I have no place here but what I make. And I have made a life here, that I am coming to care for.”

A flash of Sylvia’s Mithril face ran through my mind, but I pushed it away.

An expression finally crossed the imitations lips. An almost empty smile. “Exactly. A life, on this world so foreign to you. If it is a life you desire…”

“I, and my mistress, can give you a better one.´

<<Chapter 204 | Table of Contents | Chapter 206>>

Chapter 204 - Monstrous Parley

My steps echoed oddly loud as I stepped into the ruined courtyard where Tlazo and Nerexxa had stood, only moments ago. It was silent in this section of the city, with the scouring of all of the Revenants by their very own source. I deliberately approached the smooth, nearly mirror-polished section of stone where Tlazo had floated, because I saw something.

His staff.

Somehow, Tlazo’s wooden ebony staff, with its amber-colored crystal glowing faintly in the artificial night, had survived his destruction. Without turning to look behind me at the monstrous existence I could feel boring down on me, I bent at the waist to touch it. The moment my fingers brushed its surface, I felt a very real chill run down my spine.

But…it wasn’t an ominous one. Instead, the magical instrument emanated a peace and stillness that embodied the silence of the grave, over the uncertainty of the void. It was the acceptance of death and its consequences, and not the fear of the unknown.

This wasn’t a weapon that would hurt me.

The opposite, really.

My aching, wounded soul immediately felt bolstered by the might of the staff, and I was able to withstand the full attention of the Godbound much, much better. My fingers curled around the staff, and I picked it up. I straightened and finally turned to face the behemoth at my back.

I nearly quailed at the attention it was directing down at me.

When I had first seen the Godbound on the horizon, after exiting Tlazo’s lab, the creature had looked to be nearly resting, as it focused on attuning the Portal Stone. It was clearly still doing so, from the spiral of murk that reached into the sky, originating from in between its legs. Deep in the center of that tornado, I could faintly see the actual Portal Stone, so similar in appearance to the one I had met Fade behind. But now, the Godbound wasn’t resting anymore.

Instead, it had shifted its titanic arms forward to rest on its arms, and leaned over to look downward at the courtyard. Its head was poking through the stream of smoke that was enveloping the Portal Stone, now. The murk was rushing past its scaled head, curling around gargantuan chiropteran features and casting them in an even more demonic light.

Its eyes were open.

They were as equally massive as the rest of it, and were crimson red in color. The entire eye, in fact. There was no delineation between an iris, or a pupil, or a sclera. There was nothing to focus, or to tell what it was focusing on.

Just an endless expanse of blood that gazed out at the world it was corrupting with its very presence.

And yet, somehow I knew I had its full attention.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, and did something potentially foolish.

I cast Observe on the creature.

But…for the first time since I had acquired the Skill…it completely failed. Somehow, the ability wasn’t able to quantify a single thing about the Godbound that loomed over me like a monument. It was like…the Skill just slid off of it.

But the Godbound still noticed.

THERE IS NO NEED.

I…AM RHAZAL.

THE HARROWER.

FATHER OF MONSTROSITY.

HE WHO DENIES.

AND YOU…

ARE A BLADE IN THE DARK.

NAME THYSELF, BLADE.

My grip tightening on the staff held in my remaining hand, I decided to answer the thing. After all, what else could I do? “My name…is Nathaniel Eugene Hart,” I said slowly. “You know what I am.” I wasn’t even asking a question. It was just something I had noticed, about most of the old powers I’d met, sans Nerexxa. Nearly all of them had some way of telling that I was a Precursor. Maybe it was something inherent to my soul that tipped them off, but I had no way of knowing.

But there was no point denying it.

And Rhazal didn’t either.

I DO.

NATHANIEL…EUGENE…HART.

PRECURSOR.

Each utterance of each part of my name felt like a blow against my spirit. I nearly doubled over, leaning heavily on my borrowed staff. But I withstood it.

Somehow.

Abruptly, Rhazal leaned back in his makeshift throne, head retreating beyond the smog of its attunement. The sound of scales grinding against stone echoed out across the entirety of both cities, briefly sending up an answering cry from the Revenants assaulting them even now. Somehow, it reached me, even here.

But I could still see those horrible eyes focusing on me, piercing through the gloom like red hot coals.

I WOULD TREAT WITH YOU, PRECURSOR.

DO NOT RESIST.

Before I could even ask what it was talking about, Rhazal twitched one massive finger. A curl of smoke speared down from the sky, closing in on me. For a moment, I feared that I was about to be disintegrated in much the same way that Tlazo had been.

But no, instead of attacking me, the smoke poured around my feet, forming into what looked like a platform. I stumbled slightly, when the makeshift platform began to rise into the sky, taking me with it.

In the direction of Rhazal.

My ferry went right through the column that spiraled from the Portal Stone, and I was briefly able to see it below me as I was carried closer to the Godbound. But that only lasted a moment, and afterward, I was brought resting, floating before the face of Rhazal.

Somehow, it was more horrifying up close, than it was from far away. Now I could see the utter indifference it held for the world, etched on its scaled features.

Even I was only of minor interest to the titan.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Rhazal’s gargantuan right arm raise from its resting place on a ruined keep tower. Ponderously, it extended a finger, and brought it upwards to hover to the side of my smoky terrace.

God, a single talon alone was bigger than I was.

LAY YOUR HAND UPON MINE, PRECURSOR.

AND WE SHALL PARLEY, IN A MORE…FITTING MANNER.

For a wild moment, I wanted to deny ‘He Who Denies’. I wanted to draw my Oninite blade, ignite it with The Scintillant Blade, and drive into the monstrous finger that hovered so near to me. Why should I do anything this ancient horror wanted me to do? I had no idea what it wanted to do to me! For all I knew, Rhazal was about to eat my fucking soul or something! I was tempted to take my chances on my most powerful Skill, and hope it had some kind of titan-slaying mechanism that I had just never discovered.

But…

A glint on the horizon caught my eye.

Far off into the distance and over the barest sliver of ocean that the murk had yet to reach, I saw it. Or rather her.

A flash of silvery moonlight, swallowed only moments later by the ever-expanding gloom.

Something told me…my chance had yet to come.

I breathed deep, switched and cradled the haft of my borrowed staff into the crook of what was left of my left arm, and reached out with my right.

The moment the fingers of my hand touched the scales of Rhazals, the world fell away.

Into darkness.

But…this was an almost familiar darkness. I had seen it only a few hours ago, after my fall.

This…this almost looked like the blackness of that realm I had spoken to Elys and the serpent in. But…more so, somehow.

The gloom which surrounded me was more reminiscent of Rhazal’s own smoke, over that of the nearly comforting darkness of earlier. It swirled all around me, charged with Aether baring the near scent of Rhazals own suffocating might.

Was…I physically here? It felt like it, compared to my experience with Nehushtan and the moon. I was still wearing my battered and bloody Loyalist armor, and was still missing my arm. My eyesight was still cut in half, as well.

Plus, Tlazo’s staff had followed along. It was still cradled in the crook of my missing arm. I slowly transferred it back to my good hand, looking around as I did so.

What was going on? I had expected Rhazal’s booming voice to echo out from the gloom once again, but nothing had happened yet.

I wasn’t expecting what did.

The amber stone at the apex of my temporary staff suddenly started to glow softly. Deep in the core of it, I saw a faint green light emanate outwards.

A voice pierced the silence.

A familiar one.

“Well, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into,” A dry, sarcastic voice echoed out of the amber.

I looked at the gleaming amber in shock. “Tlazo…?” I murmured, suspicious despite myself.

Was this a trick from Rhazal?

“Indeed,” The voice of the Lich returned. “I see that you had the sense take up my staff. And yet, did not have the sense to reject an invitation from a Calamity into their own personal section of the Concord.”

“Concord?” I muttered, before shaking it off. “How…are you talking to me? Aren’t you, you know, dead?” I winced a moment later, already suspecting what his answer would be.

Sure enough…

“I’ve been dead since before you were born, child,” Tlazo answered dryly. “But to answer your question, I have been banished back to my phylactery. However, said phylactery is constructed from the same soul-touched material as the keystone of my stave. Thus, through Aetherial synchronicity, I can touch upon the stave lightly enough for my voice to be heard, here in the Concord. Which you appear to be inside of. Physically.” He paused for a moment. “Honestly, I thought only Greater Spirits could do that. I suppose you learn something new every day.”

“And…you’re alright?” I asked hesitantly.

“I’ll be fine,” The Lich answered dismissively. “It’ll take me a few years to reconstitute myself, but that’s only a minor inconvenience. You,however, should worry about yourself. I’m not the one at the mercy of a Calamity.”

“But…what’s the Concord?” I continued, still confused about what was going on.

“No time,” Tlazo said, abruptly serious. “I can tell that he’s almost done shaping. I’ll do my best to guide you through this, but I can’t speak too often. In this place, and in his own realm, the Godbound is even more deific than usual. If I act too often he’ll know. We’re both screwed then. Good luck, and remember I’m still here, Nathaniel.”

At that, the glow from inside of the amber went dark, and with it went Tlazo’s voice. I would have tried to ask him more questions about what was happening, but I was distracted by something else.

Slowly, colors started to creep in through the Aether charged mists of the ‘Concord’, whatever that was. First reds, and then greens and blues. And then yellows, and oranges, and purples until the full spectrum of the wheel painted the ethereal world I stood in. Then, ever more and more, the murk around me began to twist and shape itself, solidifying as it did.

It…was almost like a world was being born around me.

At first, I didn’t recognize it what it was. But when I did…

I slumped to my knees in disbelief, tears welling up in my eyes and streaming down my dirt and blood-encrusted face.

This…this was Earth.

I knelt on the asphalt of a familiar little two-lane road that cut through my neighborhood, back home in Texas. Overhead, a summer sun shined down on the world from a clear blue sky, warming me to my very bones and casting heat hazes in the distance. Old, working-class family homes lined both sides of the street, painted and constructed in dozens of different styles, each of them well-loved by their owners. A mix of green and brown grass tainted the lawns of each and every one of those homes, as the oppressive heat of the summer sun drove the turf to the brink of death despite the best efforts of myriad sprinklers. Trucks and SUV’s and sedans of varying sizes rested, lonely and abandoned, on the white concrete of oh-so-many driveways. A hot breeze blew through the quiet, bringing with it a familiar tang, carried upon fallen leaves. I breathed deep, and held in the scent of the old oaks planted in the lawns of my childhood neighborhood oh so long ago.

I couldn’t stop the tears that ran in rivulets down my face.

Home.

This…was my home.

<<Chapter 203 | Table of Contents | Chapter 205>>

Chapter 203 - Judgement of the Dead

AN: The Rhazal speak is supposed to be centered, but guess what! Patreon has abysmal text editing, and you can't even do that.

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Liora and I hadn’t dared to venture out into the courtyard before the ruins of Fort Duality. There were dozens and dozens of Revenants infesting the area, circling and snarling around the Lich and his captive. Tlazo and Nerexxa may have their attention for now, but neither one of us wanted to test that.

We’d be torn to shreds in an instant.

But they seemed wary of the Lich and the Vampire, even as helpless as Nerexxa seemed right now. They were demonstrating a level of intelligence in keeping their distance that told me they might be evolving mentally, as well as physically.

However, one of the most important reasons I didn’t want to go out there, was that the titanic legs of the Godbound were visible on either side of the door. They were bent at the knee from its position far above, presiding over these events like the very pillars of heaven itself.

Or perhaps…hell, would be more accurate.

I had seen one of them shift ever so slightly at the cacophony occurring below it, while at the same time, I felt the ever-present awareness to the surrounding Aether focus upon the duo.

The Godbound was aware of Nerexxa’s plight. Only…it hadn’t acted in any way to save her yet.

Tlazo was unphased by either the circling Revenants or the attention of the Calamity that had befallen the twin cities. Instead, I saw the glowing green coals of his eye sockets examine the Vampire clutched in his bony fist. “What a pitiful existence,” I heard him say, disgust tinging this hollow voice. “This is your true form? I expected…more from the creature that nearly caused the downfall of the Kingdom.”

I don’t know what Tlazo had done to her, before bringing the Vampire crashing back to the firmament. But it had clearly been something, as Nerexxa was far more injured than any of us had managed to do to her, including what Scintillant Blade had done. One of her arms had flat out been torn out of its socket, while she had been reduced to only two wings from the three that had been left after I’d removed one. Numerous other injuries dotted her monstrous form, but it was her face that drew my attention.

It looked like her jaw had nearly been ripped right off of her face, but had been stopped at the last moment. Instead, the skin had been torn away instead, leaving the bone exposed to the air. Right now, that jaw was grinning madly up at the Lich holding her captive, inhuman canines displayed prominently. “I would hardly say nearly,” Nerexxa said hoarsely.

Tlazo’s fiery eyes glanced around for a moment, his gaze lingering ever so slightly on the gargantuan scaled legs of the Godbound. But, I think he was taking in the sight of the chaos that had engulfed both Elderwyck and Tlatec. “Point,” He acquiesced, before looking back down at her in almost…disappointment. “However, that doesn’t change my own. Like most good children of Vereden, I grew up on horror stories about the Vampiric Sanguifera. How the children of the long-banished Goddess of Rot were the doom of nations. Only…I see you for what you are.”

Nerexxa snorted in disdain, even though she was apparently at the mercy of the Lich. “And what am I, you impudent bag of bones?”

“An imitation,” Tlazo answered, unphased by her provocation. “And a poor one, at that. I see the bindings upon your being for what they are, beast. You are an attempt by an unskilled hand to purpose create a Lich.”

I tensed in surprise at his words, exchanging a shocked glance with Liora. The two of us were crouched just inside of the ruined gates of Fort Duality. I don’t know what either of us were expecting, but it hadn’t for Tlazo to essentially call Vampires knockoffs of Liches.

Neither did Nerexxa. The amusement and disdain that had colored her ruined features was wiped away in an instant, instead replaced by a growing fury.

“I didn’t see it at our last meeting, considering you were hiding the your majority of your being from my sight. But…” Tlazo continued, gazing down at the increasingly livid bloodsucker he held captive. “There is none of the purity or the sacrifice that is inherent to the transformation I willingly undertook. I look at you, and I see the shoddy work of a poorly done spiritual phylactery. I was mistaken. You’re not a leech. You’re little better than a parasite, aren’t you? A spiritual existence, you ape the qualities of both a true Spirit and a Lich, in a crudely crafted attempt to combine them. You infest the parent soul of your host and consume it gradually, using it as fuel to sustain your existence, all the while puppeting the body of your victim. Only that soul doesn’t last forever, does it? The Aether is consumed eventually, and you must flee the host body for another, in order to survive. The suckling of blood is an attempt to prolong your existence in a flesh puppet, siphoning the vital Aether inherent to lifesblood. And this one is nearly spent, isn’t it? The girl you inhabit only has the barest amount of Aether left to her spirit, and if you hadn’t seized your chance to summon your goddess, you would have had to seek a new host soon.” Tlazo laughed. “What agony it must have been, to be forced to linger in a spent host for millenia as you did. I wager you wouldn’t have been capable of awareness for a handful of times in all those years.”

Nerexxa sneered up at Tlazo. “And what of it, human? You call me pathetic, but you are more so. You knew the danger I must have posed to your far more pathetic collection of hovels you call a Kingdom, and yet you did nothing to stop me. What does it matter, that you are more ‘pure’ than I?”

Tlazo shrugged, jostling the bloodsucker in an uncaring manner. “The affairs of the living are for the living,” He said callously. “I only treat with them when I am forced to. But to answer your question…I have to wonder. If your pathetic self is the evidence of your mistress's power…she must be truly incompetent. Perhaps we need no longer fear the might of the ‘gods’.”

That sent Nerexxa into a greater rage than I had ever seen from the Vampire. She started to struggle against the bony first that restrained her, scratching and biting uselessly at him. But she was seemingly too weak to actually do anything against the Necromancer, in the same way that she had dominated those of us who had tried to kill, to prevent…all of this.

It was vindicating to see her brought as low as we had been. I couldn’t stop a vicious smile from creeping across my lips at the sight.

“You…” Nerexxa seethed, squirming and writhing like the parasite she apparently was. “YOU…how dare you speak of Lady Ixiah in such a manner! You know NOTHING! My mistress is the supreme architect of all that is mystical, in ALL worlds! In all of EXISTENCE!”

Tlazo just gazed down at the Vampire in disdain. “I sincerely doubt that.”

Nerexxa completely abandoned her facsimile of humanity then, as the stolen body of Rhiannon grew more and more batlike by the second. In only seconds, her features had transformed from that of a monstrous woman, into that of a full-on monster. She only resembled humanity in basic body plan by now, with no unscaled flesh or hair left on the whole of her self. Once she was finished with her transformation, she screeched wordlessly up at Tlazo.

“And so the façade falls,” He said, almost sounding amused. “The beast beneath is revealed. We all know what to do with rabid beasts, though, don’t we?” Seemingly tired of the parasite he had almost effortlessly caught, the bones that held Nerexxa so tightly began to glow a deathly green in color.

Thus, Nerexxa slowly started to wither in his fist, in a manner that seemed as if all the vitality left in her stolen host began to be siphoned away. That appeared to shock her out of her bestial fury, as she stopped struggling.

Instead, she threw her head back to gaze into the sky.

And spoke.

“Mighty…Rhazal!” She choked out through rapidly withering vocal cords. “Save…me! It was I…who woke you…from your slumber! It is…I…who desired our Mother’s return…to this…backwater! Save me…so we can bask…in her glory once more!”

For a moment, nothing happened.

But then…I heard something.

The grinding of massive scales against stone, as if a gargantuan form shifted in place from far above us.

And then…

A voice. But not a physical one.

No…

This spoke straight to the soul.

WORM.

THE WEAK PERISH.

THE STRONG SURVIVE.

DUST…TO DUST.

I nearly wasn’t able to withstand it. Some inherent quality to the wordless voice was nearly able to shake my very soul loose from its foundations. I felt my spirit quake within the depths of my being, and I think new cracks formed in the bark of my crystalline tree.

To my side, Liora wasn’t able to take the force of the voice.

For some reason, her consciousness fled her, while I was able to retain mine. Bleeding from her remaining eye and her furred ears, she slumped in place, dead to the world. I was able to catch her before she impacted the stone floor of Fort Duality, but she still seemed to be among the living, from the faint breaths exiting her snout. But…she couldn’t help me, anymore.

I was alone, now.

That was okay. You’d…done enough, Liora.

Rest now. And hopefully, I would finish this before you awoke.

Carefully, I laid her against the stone wall we had just been peaking against, which I noticed had gained new cracks. When I was done, I looked around the corner. To my surprise, I was just in time to watch something I had wanted deeply.

The final death of Nerexxa.

“NoOoOoOoO!” The monstrous Vampire wailed into the darkened world around her, as her stolen flesh withered to the point of nothingness. From the feet upwards, she began to dissolve into the dust that the Godbound had seemingly foreseen. It only took moments for her entire lower half to blow away into the wind, unable to retain cohesion. Somehow, she turned her head to face the keep as Tlazo’s disintegration began to creep up past her chest.

Her eyes met mine.

“I…” Nerexxa whimpered, seemingly to me, almost pleading from in between monstrous, scaled, stolen lips. “I only wanted…to see my mother again…”

That…

That didn’t excuse a thing you did, monster.

Die, and let us be free of you.

Those were the last words that she was able to utter before the process was complete. Her head finished crumbling into ash that blew away to join the rest of the murk that had fallen over Elderwyck, from the Godbound’s might.

Rhiannon of Clan Calonawr had been avenged.

Silence fell over the courtyard as Tlazo dusted off his black silk robe, almost disdainfully. “And so my debt is fulfilled,” He said, sounding satisfied with himself. When he was done, he looked upwards in much the same way that Nerexxa had, and had the temerity to talk to the Godbound. “Well? Are we done here, then, ‘Rhazal’?” He said, almost sounding relaxed. “Will you attempt to take revenge for my slaying of one of your mistress's creatures?”

I goggled at the form of the Lich, floating almost casually in front of a living, breathing Calamity and trying to negotiate with it.

I think the Godbound itself was a little surprised, because it took a moment for that booming spiritual voice to echo out once more. This time, I knew it was coming, and so I was able to somehow…brace myself. I don’t even think I could describe how I did it in words. It was like…I was somehow shielding my soul with my core ring, of all things.

SUBMIT.

“Never,” Tlazo immediately replied, seemingly not even considering it for a moment. “True freedom is the goal of all Liches. I will not allow myself to be bound by the yoke of a distant, and incompetent, deity. Not when I have escaped the grasp of something as far beyond her as you are to me. Death itself.”

THEN…PERISH.

As a monstrous column of Aether dense murk spiraled down from the sky like a finger from God, Tlazo turned his head to face the keep. Locking his glowing green eyes to my own flesh ones, one of them blinked out for a moment, almost like he was winking at me. “I’ll be back,” I heard him say in a relaxed manner, just barely audible over the rushing winds. “Eventually…”

That was the last thing he was able to say before a nearly solid-looking tornado of pure, Aether-filled smoke impacted him.

In seconds, Tlazo’s entire physical form was scoured from existence. When the murk passed, nothing remained of the Lich that I had threatened into helping us. Not even the Revenants that had been lurking in the vicinity of the Lich were spared. They, too, were erased from this world, leaving not a trace behind.

I could only gape at the instant annihilation of someone who was supposed to be on the level of Grey.

What…what could I possibly do to something that could do that?

I was frozen in fear for a moment, before something even more terrifying happened.

The voice addressed me.

APPROACH, CHILD OF TERRA.

WE MUST SPEAK.

I…I…couldn’t move. How could I? I felt the full attention of the Godbound upon me then, and it was suffocating. I was nothing to this thing.

I was the grain of dust before the mountain, the shadow beneath the blazing sun.

An existence as far below it as one was possible to go.

I threatened to come undone from the pressure alone, where before I had withstood its voice. My core ring felt like it was pounding and cracking from withstanding it.

And yet…

Yet…somehow…

I stepped forward.

<<Chapter 202 | Table of Contents | Chapter 204>>

Chapter 202 - The Grace of Shadows

I hit the water of the canal with a clumsy splash, followed shortly thereafter by Liora. In contrast to her smooth dive into the artificial stream, I was much less elegant. We were lucky that none of the Revenants were paying attention then, as they were preoccupied with Baldric’s…sacrifice.

Because I made a ton of noise.

Still, that didn’t end up being a problem.

What did, was I discovered that trying to swim with only one arm and one eye was difficult.

I started to sink, and when I did, a world of unexpected horror opened itself to me.

The canal was filled with bodies.

I…wasn’t expecting that, but in a way, it almost made sense. I didn’t see as many Orcs down here as I did Humans, and there were…a lot of them, to say the least. The water was stained red from the blood of those who seemed to have jumped in the canal in a desperate attempt to escape the hordes of Revenants plaguing the twin cities. Elderwyck wasn’t constructed in the same way as Tlatec, after all. The alleyways and spaces between buildings weren’t quite as narrow, and I can only imagine how difficult it was to find a hiding spot in the madness.

I didn’t blame them for hoping that the water would see them a measure of safety. Only…

It didn’t look like it had. I tried not to look at the despairing faces of the freshly slain victims I could see all around me, and it was surprisingly easy for me.

Because I had other problems.

I flailed in the water for a moment, caught off guard by…everything before the sleek form of Liora caught me. I had started to sink, but she dragged me back to the surface, where we tread water for a moment. I started to thank her, before something from above caught my attention that she didn’t seem to notice. With only moments to spare, I gulped down a deep breath and yanked the both of us back down beneath the waters.

We only barely dodged the form of a diving Revenant that tried to snatch the two of us right out of the water. Strangely, it balked away from even dipping its talons into the canal, shying away and rising back into the air on monstrous wings.

I had startled Liora with my move, but she recovered quickly. I think she caught the tail end of the Revenant’s dive and exchanged a nod with me underwater.

We had discovered what had killed the people in the canal, I suppose. If you were stuck in here and were unwilling to get back on land in fear of the Revenants, you were either going to die to exhaustion or the monsters themselves.

Most weren’t crazy enough to want to approach the central island where Fort Duality once stood, now the throne of the Godbound.

Not like us.

Having caught our bearings, Liora and I slowly started to swim through the bloody waters of the canal in the direction of the ruined Fort, supporting each other the entire time. Every once in a while we had to surface to catch our breath, before hurriedly diving beneath the surface to escape the attentions of the circling Revenants above us.

It was…beyond exhausting. I don’t know if I would have been able to do this if I didn’t have someone to lean on, during the long swim. I don’t even know if Liora would have been able to do this, not after everything.

Not after all we had been through.

Eventually, however, beneath the water and in the distance, the lower shores of the island came into view. It was reinforced with massive stone columns, so it wasn’t difficult to see through the murk. We picked up our pace, forgoing another breech to the surface for breath in order to hurry. The entire lower dock on the island was covered by the upper platform that the Fort resided on, and might just be safer from the hungry Revenants above.

We reached it, and scrambled onto the carefully maintained docks at the lower portion of Fort Duality. They were empty, with none of the possible military vessels that might find birth here normally. My core ring spared a thought, wondering if they had tried to flee from the horror the twin cities had become, but that didn’t matter.

The only thing that did, was that we were safe from the flying Revenants.

For now.

But the Godbound, on the other hand….

As Liora and I lay gasping on the docks, flat on our backs, I gradually became aware of something.

The air here…it felt wrong.

It was thicker, somehow, and felt tainted with an awareness. It was like I stood at the foot of a mountain with the awareness of a god. I was so far beneath the presence as to be unworthy of acknowledgment, as if my existence was worth less than that of a single ant. The Aether all around me was strangely still, seemingly held by what felt like an iron will that demanded subservience.

This…it had to be the Godbound. Even though we were separated from it by dozens of feet of stone, just being this close to it was crushing.

I felt so impossibly small. But…it was, for now, bearable.

With a grunt, I leveraged myself to my feet, before looking down at Liora. There was a disquieting despair etched on her furred face. She hadn’t gotten up from her water-logged position on the docks, and was instead staring dully in the direction we had swam from.

In the direction of Baldric.

I heaved a sigh, and held my one hand down at her. Her eyes moved slowly to look at it, before one hand rose limply to grasp it. I heaved the Gnoll woman to her feet before shifting my grip.

Instead of her hand, I instead grasped her forearm tightly. At her visible confusion, I smiled tiredly and met her gaze.

Singular eye, to singular eye.

“Together,” I said firmly.

Her eye closed for a moment before she nodded and returned the tight grip I had on her. “Together,” She whispered.

The both of us turned to face the distant entrance into the fort proper. As we did so, I noticed that this far down, it wasn’t quite as ruined as the upper reaches were, where the Godbound reclined like a King in waiting. Still, that didn’t mean it wasn’t damaged, as a damned structure wasn’t meant to function as a chair. There were fresh, visible cracks all up and down the façade of the outpost, and some of the blocks comprising the columns of the keep itself had broken entirely. All in all, the structure looked a bit unstable.

But we had no choice. We had to brave the depths of this place, in order to reach the surface where the Godbound rested. Where I was supposed to do…something, in order to kill the damn thing. There was no way that we could climb the outside of the structure to reach the upper platform, and even if we could, the flying Revenants would pick us off easily.

And so, Liora and I carefully picked our way across the crumbling and eerily deserted docks to reach the lower entrance of Fort Duality. Once we had arrived, the two of us stared into the dark and silent depths of the portal. Somewhere deep inside of the ruined fort, a warbling, high-pitched howl echoed, reaching us like the wail of a banshee.

Great.

Not only had all the lights gone out inside, but it was infested with Revenants. I was reminded uncomfortably of the trek through the Tlactecian mausoleum, where we had encountered wild undead above Tlazo’s lab.

I would prefer the zombies, honestly. Hell, at this stage, they probably would be on our side.

Liora held out one hand and summoned a familiar-looking light Skill, to brighten our path. I stared at it dully for a moment, as it occurred to me that I still didn’t have one of my own. Somehow, someway, it had just kept falling to the wayside for literal months.

“If I survive this,” I said slowly. “I’m going to force someone to sit me down and teach me how to get one of those.”

A breath exhale of extremely mild amusement exited Liora’s snout, but she immediately sobered up. “We can't risk getting bogged down with combat,” She said. “Attempt stealth as much as possible, but prioritize haste. We must hurry if we are to prevent the doom of this world.”

I nodded shallowly, and when the Gnoll stepped forward into the darkness, I followed behind her.

………………………………..

I had never been inside of Fort Duality, but Liora guided me through the halls like she was born here. Which was impressive, because entire sections of the keep had collapsed in on themselves. Multiple times, the senior Agent was given pause when we reached a rubble-strewn hallway. But she always knew where we had to double back from, to continue our upward trajectory.

Despite the howl we heard before, and even after ascending several floors, we still hadn’t encountered any of the Revenants that I suspected dwelled within these wide, crumbling halls.

But we sure as hell found the evidence of their passing. It looked to me like packs of the damn things had rampaged through the inside of the Fort and slaughtered all of the Loyalist soldiers, Elderwyckian guards, and Tlatecian Orcs to be found. Blood and gore coated the stones of the building, and evidence of battle was found on nearly every surface.

It looked like it had been a total rout. I’m not sure anyone had survived in here.

But still, none of the Revenants themselves. Maybe since they had already found their meals in these halls, they had abandoned them to crowd the streets outside? Maybe…the Revenants that Baldric had chosen to engage had been the doom of this fort?

I didn’t know.

I needed something to take my mind off of the oppressive silence of this ruin. Luckily, I had a somewhat useless question I could ask Liora, that would hopefully take her mind off the impossibility of our task as well.

“How do you know this place so well?” I asked her in a whisper, the next time we came to a crossroads. We were before two separate halls, one that stretched out to our left, and the other forward. Liora was examining them, but shifted her eyes my way at the question.

“This is where I was posted,” She ghosted back to me,vulpine lips barely shifting. “I had infiltrated as part of the cleaning staff, and was learning what could. But…it’s also where I found evidence of ‘Rhiannon’s’ true nature. She left traces on the Portal Stone that I was taught to detect, from when I suspect she tried to attune it to Azul herself.” She shook her head abruptly. “But that doesn’t matter. The stairs upward are this way.”

Liora silently walked down the left-hand path, and I followed her. Not far along, we encountered another collapsed pile of rubble that blocked off the path, but that didn’t stop Liora. Instead, she carefully eyed the door to our right, set into the stone of the hallway. “This…is Longstripe’s room,” She said lowly. “If I remember correctly, there should be another exit inside that will allow us to bypass this.”

I started to nod, before abruptly pausing. Hadn’t Longstripe said something about Fort Duality, before Nerexxa had torn him apart?

Hope filling my breast, I eased open the door to the deceased General’s room before Liora could, and peaked inside. It looked deserted to me, and thankfully free of the corpses that filled the rest of the keep. I guess nobody had tried to shelter inside of it when the Revenants came.

But I did find what I was hoping for.

Resting right next to a bloodstained Loyalist uniform on the sheets of a large, four-poster bed were two things I had doubted I would ever see again.

My hand-forged Oninite blades.

A smile crossed my lips, and I quickly stepped inside of the room with Liora on my heels, as the Gnoll woman carefully shut the door behind us. When I reached the bed, I let my remaining hand drift over my weapon's cool surface and breathed a sigh of relief.

At least something at least half-way good had happened today.

I shook it off after a moment and picked them up.

I think I surprised Liora, though, when I handed one of them to her. I smiled at her confused face and held up the stump of my left arm. “Can’t exactly use two right now, and I bet that’s better than Tlazo’s bone crap.” My smile faded after a moment, and I fixed her with a mock-serious look. “But I’m going to want that back later, you hear? Think you remember how to use it?”

Liora took the Oninite blade and held it upright, before depressing the activation switch. She nodded in satisfaction when it extended to its mid-spear length with a swish of air. Depressing the switch again, she nodded at me. “I believe so. I will…endeavor to return it to you.” She abruptly shook her head, discarded the rough bone sword she had taken from Tlazo’s lab and let it rattle to a stop in the corner of the deceased General's room. Liora then nodded at a door on the far side of the room. “There. That door should lead to a private stairwell which leads to the surface.”

I sobered up and nodded. “Where the Godbound waits,” I said quietly, to Liora’s accompanying nod.

Silently, the two of us approached the door and opened it, revealing a well-maintained spiral stairwell that seemed to have dodged most of the structural damage. We entered and started to climb the steps.

After a few minutes of upward travel in silence, lit only by the light of Liora’s Skill, we came to a door. We didn’t step through though, because I think we had finally found the missing Revenants.

On the other side, we could hear the snuffling and growling of what must be dozens and dozens of the things.

Liora snuffed her light Skill, sending us into near-total darkness. The only reason I could see at all was because of a faint light that was creeping through the other side of the door.

“Full stealth,” She whispered to me. “We do our best to avoid them and get outside. Once there…you…” She trailed off, which I didn’t blame her for.

Not even I knew how I was supposed to slay the Godbound. Elys, in all her wisdom, hadn’t shared that fact with me.

Still, I nodded at the makeshift plan. But before we could act on it, there was a tremendous boom somewhere from outside of the keep, outside of whatever room was on the other side of this door. It shook the entire platform that Fort Duality rested upon, causing Liora and I to bump into each other.

But more importantly, it riled up the Revenants. They snarled and howled, and moving almost like a single mass from the sound of things, rushed away. In moments, it sounded like there wasn’t even a single Revenant waiting for us on the other side.

Which was good, because it felt like that impact had caused our stairwell to start crumbling. We had to scramble to open the door and slide out of it to avoid being crushed, activating our respective stealth Skills in the meantime.

Just in case.

We needn’t have bothered, as like I had suspected, there wasn’t anyone or anything in here to hide from. The room we had entered looked like the main receiving hall of the keep, but none of that mattered to us.

Something far, far more important was happening just outside the shattered gates of Fort Duality.

In the courtyard, surrounded on all sides by snarling Revenants, and seemingly uncaring about either them or the Godbound itself, stood a familiar figure.

Tlazo.

And in his skeletal right hand, he held the battered and bloody form of Nerexxa, suspended in mid-air.

He’d caught her.

<<Chapter 201 | Table of Contents | Chapter 203>>

Chapter 201 - The Peace of Sacrifice

It was difficult to even describe the thing that rested in the ruins of Fort Duality as a monster. For the very first time since I had learned about the existence of Calamity’s back on the Thorny Reef, I understood the cultural fear that the Veredenese had about them.

This was more than monster.

It was more akin to an ancient god.

Even though it was reclining in the ruins of the near castle that was Fort Duality, from its freakish feet to the tip of its head, it had to be over four hundred feet tall at the very least. The creature was, in a way, almost reminiscent of the smaller Revenants that it was apparently spawning. It was bipedal instead of quadrupedal like its children, and retained some of the same features of both lizards and bats that they did.

But that was where the similarities ended.

The Godbound had the basic shape of most humanoid creatures, with two digitigrade legs and two almost human like arms, clad in mostly dark green scales and tipped in talons larger than city buses from Earth. However, there was an odd pattern of crimson scales that were visible all over its body, forming what appeared to be runes in the same eldritch script that Nerexxa had been using.

Only these were writ much, much larger. They hurt to look at, making my eyes burn to focus upon them.

It was heavily muscled, as well, thick of body and limb, giving it a powerful seeming physique. While the smaller Revenants had only two malformed blade-like wings extending from its back, this thing had more. In a way almost reminiscent of Nerexxa, it had three pairs of bat-like wings curled on its back and clasped on its chest, almost like an extended cloak. But these weren’t flightless fighting appendages like the Revenants I had seen had. These were fully webbed, which horrified me.

This thing could potentially fly?

Two wide, sharp ears extended above its batlike head, that twitched ever so slightly in place. However, its eyes and mouth were oddly closed, giving it a near-resting-like appearance.

But it very obviously was doing something.

From in between its thighs, a massive swirling column of smoke had enveloped something that had once resided within the ruined Fort Duality. It spiraled into the sky, and seemed to be the origin of the cloudy murk that had artificially turned day into night.

That…that had to be the Portal Stone.

Tlazo had been right.

The Godbound had already started to attune it to the location of its mistress.

Baldric must have realized this as well, because he cursed. “Let’s go,” He said urgently to Liora and I. “We have to make it to that thing before it’s too late.”

I tore my horrified gaze away from the titanic monster at the center of the twin cities, and started to nod along with Liora. But something else caught my attention.

A Revenant was swooping down at us from the sky. This one wasn’t just falling fully formed from the corrupted Aether that was suffusing the area, though. No, instead, it had functional wings instead.

The Revenants were starting to evolve.

To fly

And one was nearly upon us.

“Look o-!” I started to shout, pointing to the beast with its talons extended in our direction hungrily.

I needn’t have bothered.

With a furious snarl, Baldric whirled around and slashed out at the descending monster with one wind-coated hooked dagger. A visible blade of razor-sharp wind exploded from the edge and raced up to meet the Revenant, easily slicing the thing into two pieces that fell to the street below.

But there were more of them. Winging their way through the sky were more and more winged Rhazalian Revenants, where only moments ago they had been falling to the ground like stones.

It wasn’t safe up high anymore.

Liora didn’t waste any time. “We have to get off the roofs,” She said quickly. “We’re easy prey up here.” Almost before she was finished speaking, she leaped off of the edge of the roof we were on, and into the alleyway below.

Baldric cursed but obviously agreed, as he followed after her.

I did the same, after one last dread-filled glance at the Godbound on the horizon.

Once on the pavement of Tlatec, I saw that Liora and Baldric were peeking out around the corner of the alleyway at the street outside. I hurried to join them, and when I did, I saw that the fighting was…going better than expected. The introduction of Tlazo’s undead forces was turning the tide for the battle on the ground, but I didn’t know how long that would last with the introduction of fliers. Already I could see flying versions of the Revenants swooping down and scooping up either Orcs or their undead versions. This didn’t always turn out the best for them, as sometimes their captives would simply slay the monsters and fall back to the pavement. But not always, and attrition would already be eating away at the guards of Tlatec if it wasn’t for an almost endless stream of undead that had started to pour out of the entrance to Tlazo’s underground lab.

The end result was that the Revenant hordes were being pushed back, but slowly.

Too slow for our purposes. It would take too long to fight through the Revenants, if we wanted to get to the ruins of Fort Duality any time soon.

“We’ll have to take the back streets,” Baldric said grimly, only barely loud enough to be heard over the fighting. “I can lead us to the bridge connected to the Fort. Follow me.” At that, the dwarf turned around and walked away from the entrance out into the street. Liora and I followed him.

…………………………………..

An unexpected benefit that I didn’t think of, following Baldric through these back streets, was that they were too narrow for the Revenants to squeeze into. The regular citizens of Tlactec, though, seemed to have realized that before I did. This appeared to be the place that the guards who weren’t involved in the fighting were evacuating their charges to. We passed more than one group of Orcish civilians huddling in scared groups in the back alleys, overseen by grim and paranoid Tlatecian guards. They eyed us with suspicion when we hurried past, but didn’t try and stop us.

Probably because, although it was a bit suspicious to find non-Orcs in the city, we weren’t literal bloodthirsty monsters.

But…

I wasn’t sure how long they could keep hiding in here.

I saw more than one Revenant notice the civilians from overheard, and try to scrabble their way in between the gaps in stone. The guards were easily able to handle this, but the stonework kept getting more and more damaged on the buildings we were passing. Not only that, but I swear I heard Revenants breaking into buildings and trying to dig their way through the back walls to the scared people on the other side. We stopped to help whenever we could, but we had bigger problems, as callous as that sounded.

We had to hurry.

Eventually, we reached the line of buildings that lay near the border of the canal that separated Tlactec and Elderwyck. Through the gap in the alleyway that we were hiding within, I could see the bridge that led to the ruins of Fort Duality that rested in between the twin cities. The titanic form of the Godbound dominated the horizon with its dread power, with its resting legs alone being taller than the buildings we hid between. There was a problem, however.

The entrance onto the bridge was absolutely swarming with Revenants. There must be hundreds of the things milling about near the demolished guard checkpoints that used to block the path over the bridge. Not only that, but the entire street extending as far as we could see on both sides was filled with uncountable numbers of Revenants. There didn’t look to be a way forward, to my eyes. But they weren’t acting like I had seen from them elsewhere in the city. They were almost calm, with a form of enhanced intelligence and watchful eyes that were exhibited in both the waiting fliers and the ground-bound.

And I think I knew why.

There looked to be an evolved form of the Revenants leading them.

It was twice as tall as a human man, and that was because it stood upright like its progenitor, although in a hunched-over position. The bat-like lizard thing watched the world with forward-facing eyes on its digitigrade legs with its own set of wings draped over its shoulders. I didn’t dare to use Observe on it in case the thing felt the Skill, but it was very obviously more powerful than its brethren. It radiated a strength that I could feel all the way from where I was hiding.

I swear, I swear, I could feel a Mantle radiating off of the thing, even at this distance.

The rest of the Revenants crowded around the thing, acting like loyal and watchful hounds at its beck and call.

There was no easy way around any of them.

Unexpectedly, Baldric sighed from his position next to Liora and I. We were all cautiously peering out of the exit out into the street, trying to figure out a way that we were going to reach the island. “We’re not all getting through there,” He said, almost peacefully.

I cut my eyes his way. “What?” I asked, not understanding his meaning. “What do you mean, all?”

"If we try and get past that thing," Baldric said calmly. "It's just going to follow. Alone, I could stealth under its attention, but not with the two of you. It's guarding more than just the bridge, too. I can feel its attention watching the whole of the border with the canal. I'm going to have to do something...else, instead."

Else? What else?

But Liora seemed to understand. She unexpectedly crouched down and looked the dwarf in the eyes. “Please don’t,” She said quietly, almost pleading with him. “Please…I…I can’t…”

Fondly, the spymaster of the Nocturne Division reached out and cradled the Gnoll woman’s hands. He rubbed his thumbs almost comfortingly over her furred knuckles before meeting her eyes. “You know I have to,” He said calmly, causing Liora to look away briefly. Baldric reached up, though, to cup her furred cheek in his rough hand tenderly to look her in the eye. “You do. You’re a smart girl. You know almost more than I do what we signed up for, in the Division.”

“I do,” Liora whispered, laying her hand over his on her cheek. “But…I don’t know if I could survive losing anyone else.” For the first time since I’d ever known her, the woman I had known as Dusk for so long sounded to be near tears. “I’m…not strong enough.”

A smile stretched its way over Baldric's craggy, bearded face. “You are,” He said confidently. “I know you are. I’ve only ever held you back from your true potential, Liora Valen.”

By now, I was starting to understand what the Florensian dwarf was intending. It…was hard not to.

There was only one person here, that could potentially take on that evolved Revenant and distract it long enough. But not even Baldric could fight both that evolved Revenant, and the hordes that surrounded it alone.

He was going to sacrifice himself, so we could reach the Godbound.

God, I felt like a piece of shit voyeur, for intruding on this farewell.

“When I’m gone,” Baldric said, causing a short, sharp sob to escape Liora. He used a thumb to wipe away one of the tears that was escaping Liora’s apricot-colored eyes, and smiled. “I want more for you than this life. You could be so much more than just another blade in the dark, Liora. Join the Academy, and build something for yourself. Greycton owes us both for this. He won’t raise a stink. Promise me, Liora. Promise me you’ll do it.”

Her head lowered, Liora gave a small nod. “I promise,” She breathed, before lunging forward and wrapping Baldric in a hug. “I promise.”

A measure of tension escaped Baldric then, and the dwarf almost looked to be at peace. The two of them separated slowly, and then Baldric unexpectedly turned to face me. “Afraid I’m not going to be able to continue your training, Hart,” He said wryly. “You stick to the plan we made, listen to Greycton, and you’ll go far. Hell, you could even become one of the greats, if you put your mind to it.”

I took deep breath and did my best to smile at the dwarf. “I’ll do that. Thank you, Baldric. Thank you for…everything.”

Baldric snorted. “Don’t worry about it. You might not have been in the Division long, but you were a decent Agent,” He said, before reaching up to his neck and withdrawing something from under this vest. As it was exposed to open air, I saw that it was a pendant of all things. Actually, I think it was a locket, with a stylized version of the House Florens crest on the front. He unclasped it and then handed it to me. “Here. Give this to Azarus, will you? I…always intended to talk to the boy and hash things out, but. Well. Old habits die hard, wouldn’t you say?” He gave a gallows chuckle. “Apologize to him for me. If I had just stuck around…maybe he wouldn’t have to go and live with the Savoy.”

I nodded at Baldric, and slipped the pendant around my own neck for safekeeping, tucking into my worn-down, blood-encrusted Loyalist armor. “I will. I promise I will,” I swore.

If I survived.

At that, Baldric seemed to have finished his final goodbyes. With a lingering glance between him and Liora, he approached the exit of the alleyway. “Once I get started,” He said without turning, with his back to us. “You’ll have to jump into the river when I have their attention. There’s a back entrance into Fort Duality at the bottom of the canal, and that should still be intact. Once there, make your way up…and do what you have to.”

He drew the two hooked daggers that he had retained hold of through everything that had happened to us.

His namesake.

“Goodbye…papus…” Liora whispered next to me, before Baldric could leave forever.

Baldric looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Goodbye, suki.”

At that, the spymaster of the Nocturne Division, Baldric of House Florens, turned around and…

Stepped into the street.

He immediately drew the attention of every Revenant that lay out there, by exploding forward into a swirling morass of razor-sharp winds. Dozens and dozens of them died instantly, but neither Liora or I were inclined to waste this chance.

We sprinted out into the street, onto the gore-covered cobblestones of Tlatec, and dove over the side of the railing that separated the twin cities.

As I fell, I could see Baldric engage with the form of the evolved Rhazalian Revenant.

Strangely, there was a smile on his face.

<<Chapter 200 | Table of Contents | Chapter 202>>

Chapter 200 - Beware the Murk

AN: Here we are at the big 2 0 0. Funny enough, the timing is almost perfect, as the anniversary of my first launching Sins on RR will be on Wednesday the 3rd.

......................................................................

Before I left Sylvia behind and marched to my likely death, I took a moment to examine my Status. I’d been involved in quite a bit of combat in the last twenty-four hours, and killed…more than a few people. Normal people wouldn’t have gained anything from that, but…

I wasn’t exactly normal, now was I?

I pulled up my Status using Hidden Amidst the Spheres.

You have gained 7 levels!

You are now Lvl. 91.

Acting has reached Lvl. 7 (Max)!

Dual Wielding has reached Lvl. 5!

Short Bow Proficiency has reached Lvl. 3!

You have 70 unspent Virtue points.

Level 90 Class ability inherited.

Would you like to review your Status?

Y/N

I let out a silent sigh, as I shunted the task of managing my level up to my remaining core ring. My outer ring took the task of standing up off of the slab that Sylvia was resting on, and approaching my gathered comrades.

I wasn’t surprised to see so many levels at once. I… had no idea how many people I had actually killed, during the assault on the warehouse. It had to be well over a dozen, and from my experience, people were…just worth more Aether than monsters, when it came to leveling up.

God, what a revolting thought.

Considering my advantages, I never wanted to become the kind of person who boiled down my opponents to what they were worth to me. Sapient beings were more than just grist for the mill that was my advancement.

My core ring tiredly selected yes, and then allocated my Virtues. No deviating from my established allocations today, like I had by getting some points in Strength. I didn’t feel like I could take the risk, and preferred the tried and true method of more Intelligence, Wisdom, and Dexterity.

My remaining ring reviewed my changes briefly, before confirming the allotment.

Name: Nathaniel Eugene Hart

Titles: Unbound Liberator

Level: 91

Age: 24 Sol

Race: Human (Precursor)

Affinity: Terrestrial

Classes: Thornblade Acolyte (Uncommon)

Professions: Aetherial Melding

Health: 697/740

Stamina: 46/100

Vitality: 74

Strength: 50

Spirit: 10

Dexterity: 134

Perception: 74

Intelligence: 199

Wisdom: 199

Free Points: 0

Options: [Talent Page], [Skill Page], [Profession Page]

I was unsurprised to see my Status reflecting how worn down I felt. I sure as hell didn't feel one hundred percent.

As I reached Liora and Baldric, leaving Sylvia and Isolde behind, my core got around to seeing what the last ability I would get before reaching level one hundred would be.

I nearly laughed aloud at what I got.

This…would have been pretty useful, only hours previous.

Level 90 Class ability (Thornblade Acolyte)

Bloodroot Resilience (Talent): Body and Soul are bolstered by the strength of the unseen earth.

Talents were typically easier for me to understand what they did than Skills, since their effects were immediate.

And I sure felt this.

All at once I felt…firmer, more solid somehow. My body and soul were, like the description said, almost being shored up by something. It almost seemed to me like my Vitality was being reinforced.

Actually, that…might be exactly what was happening.

This sensation, in a weird way, felt almost like how the multiplicative effect of Sylvan Vigor did, just bolstering a different Virtue. But it wasn’t a Skill, and thus wasn’t something I could turn off or tune up and down. No, now that I thought about it more and examined the feeling, I was pretty sure I knew what was going on with Bloodroot Resilience.

This was a passive increase to my Vitality, it had to be. Either I was drawing strength from the earth around me, like the description said, or I was getting an addition or multiplication to the Virtue.

But…it was odd.

Moments after the Talent started working, I swear I heard an inaudible whisper, from somewhere just out of earshot. But when I looked around to try and find the source, I saw nothing.

Baldric saw my rubbernecking and raised a tired eyebrow at me. “Something wrong?”

“Ah…” I paused, before shaking my head. “No…nothing. I think it was just…an odd Talent interaction or something. Don’t worry about it.”

The dwarf inspected me for a moment before nodding. “If you say so. Anyway, listen up. We’re all ready to move out now, including Tlazo,” He nodded to the Lich that was standing off in front of us, directing his ‘assistants’. He had finally started getting them underway, and was directing them towards and out of the door that I knew led out to the surface. The odd sound of a combination of marching and shuffling from the undead filled the cavernous lab. “We’ll follow behind them, and try to assess the situation when we reach the surface. We…all know the stakes here, so…don’t fuck this up, I suppose.”

Liora turned her head to look at me from the corner of her remaining eye. “The Lich indicated to us that you were meant to slay the Godbound?” She asked shortly. Still, I detected a mote of doubt in her voice.

I didn’t blame her for it.

I nodded at the two of them. Even though I had gotten Ringed Mind only a few months ago, I was unused to managing my emotions without it. I’m sure they could both see the apprehension on my face at the prospect of killing a Calamity. “Yes…Elys told me I had everything I need, to kill it. I…don’t know how, but I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

Baldric closed his eyes. “Then the goal is to get you close to the bastard,” He said shortly, before nodding ahead of us, to where most of the undead had cleared out. Tlazo was already floating after his minions even as more continued to stream into the cavernous lab, without even a glance behind him to see if we were following. “Let’s go.”

The three of us set out after the departing undead army.

Behind us, just on the edge of my hearing, I heard a young, whispered voice.

“Good luck,” Isolde said quietly, voice trailing after us.

We probably needed it.

…………………………………………………..

In a mirror to how we had first entered into Elderwyck and Tlatec not so long ago, we marched through the tunnel that connected Tlazo’s lab to Tlatec above, trailing behind said Lich’s army. Before long, we had reached the stairs that led upwards, and by that time, the tremors I had been feeling earlier were starting to become more intense.

And when we actually started our journey upwards, sound began to filter down towards those of us that were still alive and coherent enough to understand it.

The sounds of battle.

Or slaughter.

It only grew more and more obvious that there was something going on up there beyond what we had thought. It sounded to me like Tlazo’s forces were already engaging something, which was odd. The exit point of his lab led out into Tlatec, not Elderwyck. But…with Calamity out there…

Maybe the fight had spilled into the Orcish twin city.

My small group eventually reached the exit point to Tlatec.

Dread pooled in my stomach, and my mouth fell open at how the world seemed to have deteriorated, in the scant few hours we must have spent underground.

We had exited out into a veritable hell.

The sky above was shrouded in an artificial darkness that resembled the smoke of a forest fire more than it did night. In the distance, the normally warm light of Tarus above had been almost…corrupted. It glared down at the world with a blood-red hue that cast menacing shadows upon the city around me.

And that city was under siege.

Screams and the clash of blades on scale filled the air, as the Orcish imperials desperately tried to fight back the waves of monsters that seemed to have filled their streets. I had never seen anything like the beasts, and there must have been thousands of them in Tlatec alone by my guess, much less Elderwyck.

To my eyes, they looked to be a strange cross between a lizard and a bat. The creatures were scaled, and had the basic body plan of something like a long extinct quadrupedal dinosaur from back home. But instead of a lizard’s snout, they had the head of some kind of monstrous scaled, flat-faced bat, gnashing and gnawing at the world. A long, sinuous tail ran behind them, while near-foot-long claws stood out on each of their powerful looking limbs. If that wasn’t bad enough, each of them had what seemed to be long, vestigial wings on their back. The actual wing part of it appeared to have been reduced to the barest of useless membranes, and in lieu of flight, they were intended for fighting. Instead of having claws at the end of the limbs, they had what seemed to be out-and-out razor-sharp blades.

They were engaged with both the Orcish guards of Tlatec, and with Tlazo’s undead. It was a good thing too, because it didn’t seem the living had been doing so well against these things. The lizards were so dangerous to get close to that it took at least a full squad of the Orcs in order to deal with just one. The problem was, there were a metric fuck ton of the things infesting Tlatec’s streets. But with the introduction of the undead, those numbers were being evened out. It seemed like the battle lines in the streets had been pushed back by the lizards, but not anymore.

Instead, Tlazo’s ‘assistants’ were stemming the tide with their own numbers.

Benefits of fighting alongside a Necromancer, I guess.

Though…these things didn’t seem to be jokes. Where the hell were they coming from? I had never seen anything like them before.

I got my answer.

I watched as one Orcish guardsman was speared through the chest by one of the lizard's back blades, his high-quality armor unable to stop the monstrous limbs. He was flung off to the side carelessly by the beast, and by the time he hit the floor, his corpse was already changing. It bulged oddly, rapidly growing new flesh, scales, and limbs, until in moments, a new lizard creature had taken the place of the deceased Orc. It loosed a disturbing, warbly screech into the air, before bounding into the fight.

I…almost instinctually threw out an Observe at the new birthed monster, before it exited my sight. I wasn’t expecting much, considering how strong these things seemed to be.

I was surprised when I got something back.

Name: Rhazalian Revenant

Level: 156

Age: 2 minutes

Species: Revenant

Abilities: Unknown

I wish I had time to take in all the oddities of that Status, such as the fact I was even seeing it if the monster was over fifty levels above me. Also that the System itself couldn’t even tell me what Abilities they had, but I didn’t have that luxury.

I had to dodge out of the way, as one of these ‘Revenants’ fell out of the fucking sky, jaws opened wide in an attempt to remove my head. It looked to have somehow materialized in mid-fucking-air, formed from a wisp of the dread-inducing smoke blocking out the sky.

It looked like these things had more than one way to spawn.

Luckily, Tlazo was right in front of us. Faster than I could track, the skeletal right hand of the Lich lashed out and grabbed the Revenant right out of the air, while he held his gnarled staff in his left. He examined it, floating in place, as the thing trashed and snapped at the powerful undead uselessly. His glowing green, empty sockets regarded the thing almost contemptuously.

“It’s already spawning Revenants, I see. Never a welcome sight to see the spawn of Calamities,” Tlazo said consideringly, before letting his gaze drift down to us. “You need to hurry. I’ll find your leech and deal with her, but I’ll not stick around to be overrun by a tide of these things if you fail. Not even I can withstand a horde like that. In the meanwhile, my assistants will work to clear these streets as best they can.” Without another word, the Lich floated into the smoky sky, before seeming to accelerate in the direction of Elderwyck, glowing a menacing green in the process.

In the meantime, I was on guard now that I knew these Revenants could fall out of the fucking sky at any moment. In fact, I was tracking another group of them, as they fell towards the melee of undead and Orcs.

These, too, never reached their target. But instead of being grabbed out of the sky by a Lich, they were shot out of it instead.

By what looked like a bright red, burning laser thicker around than my torso.

The Revenants were instantly incinerated with a sizzle before they could even screech.

I blinked, and looked to where the blast had come from. I was almost hoping in vain that Honoka had showed up out of the blue, but no.

Instead, the lasers were originating from the odd guard towers set up along the wall that surrounded Tlatec. I had seen them and the massive ruby crystals at their apex before when we had originally entered the city, but I’d had no idea as to their purpose. It looked like they were turrets.

Laser turrets.

I watched as the guard towers fired their burning payloads in short bursts inwards at the air above the city, targeting falling Revenants. They lit up the smoky sky in brief flashes of crimson light, but weren’t able to pierce it entirely. And they weren’t able to hit all of the monsters that were falling out of the sky, either. Some were successfully dodging the near-flak shot of the towers.

The entire sequence of events that had occurred since we’d exited out into Tlatec may have only taken moments, but I had still frozen slightly. I was knocked out of it by Baldric pointing to a nearby rooftop. “The Orcs have this covered,” He said grimly, to an accompanying nod from Liora. “We need to get some air to see where the Calamity is. It shouldn’t be hard. Fucking things are meant to be massive.” Without another word, both he and Liora took running leaps onto the roof of what seemed to be an Orcish butcher’s shop.

I didn’t have their strength, so I cast out a Thorn Grapple and trailed behind them in the air. Once I had settled down on the rooftop and cast my eyes over in the direction of Elderwyck, my breath left me once more.

There was a monster sitting in the ruins of Fort Duality, using it almost like a makeshift throne.

It was…beyond enormous.

<<Chapter 199 | Table of Contents | Chapter 201>>

Chapter 199 - The Eve of Calamity

From one moment to the next, I was awake.

This wasn’t the gentle awakening of regular rest or even the abrupt rousing I sometimes experienced from my nightmares.

No, it felt like I had been shocked out of a coma.

My back arced off of the stone slab I felt like I was resting, my eyes flying open in an instant. I sucked in a strangled gasp at the same time, not parsing my surroundings for multiple reasons.

The biggest being that I couldn’t see out of my right eye. For a moment, I wondered if something was covering it. But no, when I weakly reached up to touch my face, I found it bare. I was too addled to understand what was going on, and thus let my gaze limply take in my surroundings.

My conversation with Tlazo in the depths of my soul was coming back to me now, and I wasn’t surprised to find myself in the semi-recognizable setting of the Lich’s lab.

Only…it was much busier.

I hadn’t been able to tell how many ‘assistants’ the undead had on my last visit, but I didn’t think there were this many. Rows and rows of undead orcs were assembling in the cavern that the lab resided in, arranged in a nearly military format. There were hundreds of the things, and it looked to me that more were arriving every moment. I watched as a group of dusty undead Orcs shuffled their way into the large cavern from the entrance we had used what felt like only a few days ago. They entered with a mindless gait and glowing blue eyes, only for that to change after passing some threshold.

They fell under the control of Tlazo, affecting a military stride and gaining a green glow to their empty sockets.

Tlazo was emptying the catacombs, in order to assemble an army.

I guess he was going to keep his word. It only took being strongarmed by a Greater Spirit to do it.

I was knocked out of my observations by a furry feeling hand falling on my shoulder. Looking up, I found a bandaged Dusk looking down at me. My compatriot looked as rough as I felt, with exhaustion and despair evident in her posture. And yet, she didn’t seem broken. There was an almost desperate determination I could see in her…

Ah.

Her single remaining eye.

That’s right. Nerexxa had torn out her left one. There was a bloody bandage wound around her furred head, hiding what must be the empty socket.

Dusk noticed my inspection, but didn’t comment on it. Instead, she just extended her hand down to me without a word. I gratefully took it, allowing the Gnoll woman to lever me into a sitting position. I slumped over when I was upright, resting my forearms on my knees, and looked back up at Dusk.

No.

She was Liora, now. The Nocturne Division was finished.

I had to let go of that.

“What’s going on?” I asked her, my gaze drifting behind her back. Over her shoulder, I saw a bloodied and battered Baldric speaking to a visibly glowing Tlazo, a grim look on his face. The Lich was emitting an eerie green glow and seemed to be directing his gathering forces with waves of his hands, multitasking in the midst of his talk with the dwarf. Floating in mid-air at his side was a long staff of pitch-black wood, gnarled and holding what looked to be a rough amber crystal at its peak.

I paused, for a moment, when I saw Thirty-Two standing off to the side not far from us, arms wrapped around herself in a near hug. The young woman looked…lost, frightened, and as if she had just barely escaped death herself. And she might have, judging from the bandages I could see on her adolescent form.

I studiously tried not to look at the cloth-covered slab not far from me, where a large frame seemed to be resting.

I knew who that had to be.

But…

“Where’s Sylvia?” I said slowly, my breath hitching in my throat.

Liora studied me for a moment, before jerking her head at another corner of the lab that I had missed. I followed her gaze to find a still, silvery form lying motionless on a slab. For a moment, vertigo nearly overtook me at the possibility that after all of what I had done, I’d still failed one of the most important people in my life.

But no. I remembered how Tlazo had told me that I’d saved her life, in the depths of my soul.

So…what was wrong with her?

I tried to stumble to my feet to find out, and nearly fell face-first onto the rough stone of the slab from a surge of weakness. Liora caught me just in time, though, and helped me to sit back down on my own slab.

“She’s alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Liora answered tiredly. “But…she seems to be in a coma, or something equivalent for a Sculpted. The Lich doesn’t know what’s wrong with her, just that her soul isn’t in danger of collapsing.” She sighed, letting her single eye wander over the gathering undead forces. “Our best guess is that Greycton is going to have to examine her, to find out what’s wrong. But she’ll hold down here, for now. We…have bigger problems, Hangman.”

I looked up and met her eye. “Nathan. Just…Nathan. It’s over, Liora.”

Said singular eye closed for a moment, and then she nodded. I thought I saw a tear escape her, but I didn’t comment on it.

I wasn’t a complete monster, after all.

Silence descended on us for a moment, before I broke it. I had my own questions, after all.

My hand drifted up to rest on my still-unseeing right eye. I had thought it was just temporary blindness from waking up, but…I was rethinking that, now.

“What’s wrong with me?” I asked aloud, not exactly expecting an answer from Liora.

And I didn’t get one from her.

“You suffered a massive brain hemorrhage, that’s what,” A dusty voice answered me. Tlazo and Baldric’s conversation seemed to have stopped, and the two of them were approaching Liora and I. “I don’t have time for a full exploratory cranial surgery to find out exactly what you did, saving Grecyton’s daughter. But my initial assessment is that there you appear to have suffered some brain damage.”

Hemorrhage? Brain damage?

That…that really wasn’t good…

My head was finally clearing from my abrupt awakening, and I was just now starting to notice that I couldn’t feel something important. Something that had cut out, just at the end of my treatment of Sylvia.

The middle thought ring that Ringed Mind granted me.

There was a noticeable absence in my thought patterns where it should be. It wasn’t like I only had two rings anymore. It was like…I could feel the void in the Talent where the middle ring should be running.

It was beyond disconcerting. My thoughts felt slow and sluggish, after so long spent with the ability constantly running.

Not only that, but…I had apparently lost sight in one of my eyes…

Without even having to ask, Baldric wordlessly withdrew a tiny bronze mirror from inside his armor and handed it to me. I raised it up to look at my face and felt a chill running down my spine.

My normally emerald green right eye had gone cloudy and unfocused. The pupil still seemed to be reacting to light, but…it wasn’t picking up anything.

I was half blind, now.

And that was on top of being back to having only one arm.

I felt a hysterical laugh bubbling up inside of myself, and almost instinctually tried to clamp down on it with my middle ring.

But that was gone, and so it came out.

My…unhinged laughter rang in the cavern, drawing concerned looks from those who cared. Tlazo didn’t seem to, though. He just kept speaking.

“The dwarf and I have conferred,” He said dryly. “And I have informed him of my obligation to destroy the bloodsucker. As such-”

“We’re going back out there,” Baldric cut in, exhausted determination in his voice. I noticed that it was different, though. Raspier, somehow. And I bet it had something to do with the massive new scar that was evident on his throat, from where Nerexxa had nearly torn it out. “Tlazo will focus on rooting out the Vampire, while we…we’ll have to try and rally a defense against this ‘Godbound’.”

I see Tlazo hadn’t wasted any time on informing the others about what we were facing. For the first time since I’d met Baldric, I saw a note of very real trepidation on his bearded face. It almost looked like…terror to me.

I didn’t blame him. I wasn’t even a Veredenese native, so I didn’t have the cultural fear of Calamities they did, and I was still petrified about this thing.

Thirty-Two wandered up then, finally deciding to join the conversation. “We have no hope against a Calamity,” She said bluntly, her voice quavering slightly. I guess her bravado had finally worn off. “We should wait for Headmaster Greycton to arrive. He’s one of the only people on the planet who has a chance, and he…should be coming.”

I took a deep breath, and finally stood up from the slab. “He is,” I said, already emotionally exhausted. “I…heard from someone with a line to him that he’s coming. But it doesn’t matter,” I said, cutting off any questions I could see brewing on some faces. “He won’t get here quickly enough. The Godbound is going to finish attuning the Portal Stone to…Azul, and then Ixiah will be on Vereden if we don’t act now. Then…then it’s really over.”

Thirty-Two deflated then, drawing Baldric’s attention. He eyed her for a moment, before sighing.

“Isolde,” He said firmly, causing Thirty-Two to jerk slightly in shock, drawing her attention. “It might be a good idea for you to sit this one out. I…don’t know how this is going to go, and even if we win, you’re not strong enough to make much of a difference. You could die very easily out there. And I don’t want to be the one to explain to King-Elect Oskar that his only sister died pointlessly.”

I didn’t even feel shock as my own suspicions about ‘Thirty-Two’ were confirmed. I didn’t know her circumstances, but I had already thought she was part of the Royal Family, just from her appearance alone. She looked too much like Oscar to be anything else. Still, I hadn’t expected such a close relationship as being his sister.

But none of that mattered right now.

We had things to do.

As Isolde looked away in shame, I accepted a length of bandage from Liora and wound it around my dead eye, in a reversed mirror to what she had over her own. “Isolde,” I said, drawing her attention. I did my best to be kind to the teenager who had been a rival spy only a day ago. “Why don’t you stay down here and watch over Sylvia? I’m sure Headmaster Greycton will be grateful to you for looking after his daughter.”

Isolde looked back down and gave a tiny nod, before wandering away.

I guess she was pragmatic enough to accept an excuse to sit this one out when it was given.

Well. That…was easier than I was expecting. At least that was one problem sorted.

“If you’re all finished,” Tlazo said impatiently. “Then I’m done gathering my strike force. You should finish preparing yourself, because I have no idea what’s going on up there. The Aetherial density has grown to the extent my attempts at scrying have failed. I have a small armory over…that a way,” He waved a hand absentmindedly at a corner of the lab, where I could see some pretty empty-looking racks. I think his undead forces had already cleaned them out, for the most part. “Help yourself to what’s left and…prepare yourself for your likely death, I suppose.” With that apathetic statement, the Lich floated away to inspect his gathered undead.

Baldric, Liora, and I stood around silently for a moment, before Baldric cleared his throat. “Hart, do you mind…giving Liora and I a moment?” He said semi-awkwardly. Liora looked away, but didn’t protest.

Ah.

I understood. Time for that adoptive grandfather and granddaughter talk, on the eve of battle.

I nodded and walked away. I had my own goodbyes to say.

First, though, I approached the rack of weapons and grabbed one of the only things left.

A single dagger, hewn from bone. I would have liked to take the spear on the rack, but I didn’t trust myself to wield it well with only one arm. It was a bit too long, compared to the extended forms of my Oninite blades.

I wondered if I would ever find those again.

I shoved it into my dirt encrusted belt, and walked over to where Sylvia was resting quietly. I gave the nearby Isolde a small nod, but didn’t acknowledge her otherwise. Still, the girl had enough tact to give us some space, while I said my goodbyes.

Sylvia looked…peaceful, I suppose.

I was tempted to lift the sheet covering her resting form from the neck down in order to check on my patch. But the idea of it felt vulgar, somehow. Like I would be peeping on her.

I sighed. “At least you have a chance to make it out of this,” I said quietly, gazing down at her. I sat down on the lip of the slab she was on, and absentmindedly lay my one hand on hers, peeking out of the sheet. “We might not see each other again, you know. This…well.” I laughed mirthlessly. “I’m supposed to go up there and deal with the Calamity. At least according to Elys, that is.” I looked down at Sylvia, rubbing my thumb over the back of her limp, cool hand. “We’ll see if I can do it. I…I almost don’t even care, if I survive. So much has happened…”

I trailed off, staring off into space for a moment.

“So much…” I whispered, before looking down at her again. “If I don’t make it…well. I just want you to know…,” I leaned down, closer to her ear. “I think…I…love you, Sylvia.”

Despite everything, and despite the fact she probably couldn’t hear me…

I still felt better.

I sat there, holding Sylvia’s hand, until Baldric and Liora were done with their own little moment, and motioned me over.

I stood up and approached them, with one last glance at the resting Sculpted woman.

It was do or die time, I suppose.

Emphasis on the die.

……………………………………………

I was intending to do a gains overview, after all the combat and killing recently. Nate’s gotten a good amount of levels, and I thought this chapter would be a good point for that.

But it didn’t fit in here, so.

Next chapter will start with one.

<<Chapter 198 | Table of Contents | Chapter 200>>

Chapter 198 - Sacrifice

I…I wasn’t sure if Sylvia was still alive.

In the few freeze frames I’d been able to perceive before Nerexxa had taken me out, I thought I’d seen the Vampire tear a massive rent into the Mithril chassis of Sylvia’s abdomen. The gravity of that hadn’t dawned on me until now, when I was fully coherent and not being talked down to by a pair of Spirits.

But…in the dim light of this pit, I could see her now.

She didn’t look good.

The Sculpted woman was lying haphazardly strewn across the surface of a nearby boulder, looking to have fallen straight onto her back in the fall. Her sapphire eyes were open but appeared to be unseeing to my own, and I don’t think she was conscious. Like I’d thought, there was a massive gash inflicted on her, around where a stomach would be on a fleshy like me. If she’d had them, her guts would be spilling out. As it was, the torn and tortured surface of her metallic skin revealed the dark hollow inside of her, where joints and latticework were meant to protect structural integrity.

When designing and constructing my false arm, I’d learned about how both the Sculpted functioned and their enchantment matrix. So much was determined by their skin being whole. A cut or two wouldn’t kill them, but massive rents like the one Sylvia had could. Their matrix-bound soul couldn’t maintain cohesion without surface skin integrity.

The Sculpted enchantment matrix included a sleep function that mimicked that of organics, and I’d seen my partner sleep plenty of nights before. But this didn’t look like that gentle slumber I’d witnessed before.

No, she almost looked….

I took a deep breath, grit my teeth, and clamped down hard on the panic trying to overwhelm me.

Dead.

But it was hard to tell that sometimes with Sculpted, I told myself. I’d seen a few heavily injured Sculpted in the past, either in Honoka’s tent or with random Healers. When a Sculpted was too damaged to function normally, they almost…shut-down, in an attempt to preserve their soul, before it could escape their marred frame.

They didn’t have the convenient tell of a heartbeat or breath to convey life. You had to examine them individually in order to determine if they were savable.

Unfortunately, I had my own wound-based problems to deal with. I’d isolated the pain in order to focus, but that didn’t change the fact I had to get myself treated or I was in trouble. I was pinned here for now.

But I had another option, to tell if my friend and lover was still with me.

I shut my eyes and did my best to shut out the world around me. I ignored the oppressive nature of this cave, still tainted by the Aether of that ‘Godbound’ that Nerexxa had awoken. I ignored the faint tremors from the surface that rippled all the way down to us in this pit. I even ignored my own senses, slowly shutting them off with my core ring.

Until the only thing I could perceive was my Aetherial sense.

I breathed deep, focusing intensely on Sylvia’s direction.

In, and out.

In, and out.

A spark.

There!

I almost started weeping at the sensation of Aether coming from Sylvia’s direction. There wasn’t much, and what I could feel was struggling to maintain cohesion, but it was there. Sylvia was still alive, for now.

But that could change any minute.

It didn’t matter if I would hurt myself more doing this. I had to act now.

My eyes snapped open, and I snarled. I reached over my left shoulder, grasped the thick stalagmite piercing straight through my shoulder, and activated Sylvan Vigor at full power. The Skill struggled, as my Stamina was no doubt near exhausted from my battles, and I probably only had moments of usage out of it.

But I didn’t care.

I heaved, ignoring the fresh blood that the movement drew from my wounds.

The stone shattered, freeing me from the floor. But I didn’t remove it from my shoulder. Instead, I rolled myself to my front, and started dragging myself in Sylvia’s direction, as I didn’t have the strength to stand. Sylvan Vigor had faded almost immediately.

When I had reached her, weeping fresh blood from new cuts on my front caused by the jagged stone of the pit, I did my best to assess the damage. As far as I could tell, Sylvia had lost almost the entire surface area of her stomach. The jagged edges of the Mithril looked razor sharp. I…I needed something to patch this with. It would need to be mystically reactive, as well, or else it wouldn’t work to maintain the enchantment matrix that cradled her struggling soul.

And I only had one source of mystically reactive metal on me.

Whatever. It was ruined anyway.

I reached over, and thumbed the release switch at the base of my prosthetic. It popped, but the crushed nature of the limb meant I had to wrench it off of the socket with as much force as I was able to muster. Once my damaged prosthetic was free, I placed it on Sylvia’s surface, doing my best to bridge the gap between the edges of the tear.

And fell into my Aetherial Melding trance once more.

You see, I had a theory, and that theory was the only reason I thought this could work. Normally, for metals like Mithril and mystically enhanced gold, you would need a forge in order to melt it down and shape it. But…this wasn’t any normal metal. This was metal that had been in close proximity to my soul for an extended length of time.

It had been directly linked to me.

My understanding of Aetherial theory told me that I should be able to manipulate it. Not to the extent that I could make repairs and make it functional.

But enough that I could melt it down.

I focused, trying to direct as much Aether as I possibly could to the limb. The gold and Mithril of the limb didn’t react immediately to the flow of Aether I was directing into from the surroundings, causing a mote of doubt and panic to fill my rings.

But…gradually…

I felt the metal under my hand start to soften. There was only one problem now.

It was going too slow. This close to Sylvia, I could feel her start to slip away, the matrix of her soul starting to fray at the edges from the effort of clinging to my lover.

I wasn’t going to let that happen.

If the process was going too slow, I was just going to have to speed it up. There was only one way I knew how to do that.

I reached for the Aether inherent to my own soul and fumblingly shoved it down into the stream I was using to shape the broken limb. The process sped up immensely, a visible rainbow glow so similar in shade to that of The Scintillant Blade beginning to suffuse the gold and Mithril.

There was another problem, however. I only had so much strength left in me after all I’d been through over the last twenty-four hours.

All that I had left was the vital energy of my own being.

I was burning the candle of my own life, in order to save Sylvia’s.

I had to hurry, or we would both die. I rapidly began to meld the combined liquid gold and Mithril around the rent in Sylvia’s abdomen, feeling my strength leave me every second I continued. I didn’t bother making it look pretty, so the patch was very rough in appearance. But it was working.

God, it was working.

It was as I was smoothing over the last of the gold and Mithril patch that something blindsided me. It wasn’t a problem with Sylvia, as I was already starting to feel her soul stabilize.

It was a problem with me.

I…had never considered the inherent drain of Aether and Stamina that it must take to maintain Ringed Mind. It was so miniscule that it didn’t matter, as my soul naturally replenished the energy required just by existing. However…now that I was draining it of Aether to save the life of another, and at the same time demanding the focus my mental Skill imparted for the task?

It was too much.

I felt something pop in my own head, and my middle ring vanish at the same time. It was gone, and I could no longer control my emotional state. As panic and fear and anger and desperation rolled over me like an ocean, I slowly blinked one eye and then the other.

My vision began to darken, and I toppled over to land on top of Sylvia.

As my consciousness began to fade once more, I felt a curious mix of satisfaction and dissatisfaction.

Satisfaction, because I had managed to save Sylvia.

Dissatisfaction…because I hadn’t been able to save another.

Just on the edge of my Aetherial sense, I felt it as the wounded, unconscious, bleeding form of Crook…

Lost its battle.

As my eyes closed, and the world fell away, I thought I heard something.

Odd stumbling and shuffling steps approaching as if from a distance.

……………………………………….

I didn’t wake up. Instead, I found myself in another place.

This time, it wasn’t the strangely murky place that I had spoken to the serpent and the moon in. No, I recognized this place.

It was my soul.

Only…diminished.

The crystalline tree that I’d seen before was cracked and splintered, with a number of different branches only hanging on by strangely sinuous fragments. The previous rainbow glow of healthy Aether was almost entirely gone, and now it only possessed a dim gleam that originated from the core. Those branches that weren’t nearly shattered instead were drooping, bereft of their previously razor sharp leaves. They lay in piles at the foot of the tree, while all through the structure, it was streaked through with what looked to be blood.

Ah…

That…didn’t seem good…

I was shocked out of my inspection by the sound of an oddly familiar voice. “In normal times, I’m sure this is quite the striking reflection,” It mused. “But now, not so much.”

The voice was missing an undertone in it from when I’d last heard the sound. But…I think I recognized the owner.

Turning to face the speaker slowly, I blinked at who I found. That…wasn’t who I was expecting.

The speaker was a dark-skinned man of considerable height, nearly matching Leopold in sheer verticality. He was older, looking to nearly be on par with Grey’s apparent age of near sixty, with a completely shaven head. On his square jaw, he had a short beard, whitened from age. And from his wizened features peered a pair of knowing amethyst eyes, ringed with laugh lines and watching me patiently.

But it was what he was wearing that really tipped me off as to who this was.

Draped over his broad form was an impeccably maintained black silk robe, with a crimson cape thrown over his shoulders.

I tilted my head at him. “Tlazo…?” I asked hesitantly.

The tall man bowed at the waist theatrically to me, one hand over his heart. “In the flesh,” He said mischievously. “Well, when I had flesh, at any rate.”

“Oh,” I said lamely. It was…hard to focus. I was having trouble understanding what was going on. I couldn’t fully parse why a Lich was standing with me in my soul, suddenly alive again. “How…are you here?”

Tlazo must have realized how addled I was, as his expression softened. “Because some of my assistants found you and your companions, and brought you to my lab,” He said kindly. “I’ve spent some time repairing your…somewhat mangled forms as best as I was able. Some I was too late for, such as that large woman-”

I felt a flash of pain at the sudden reminder of Crook’s death.

Another I had failed.

“-others, I could, such as that Dusk woman, the dwarf yet again, and the young girl,” Tlazo continued, before peering at me curiously. “And you appeared to have somehow saved Greycton’s daughter before losing consciousness, so well done you. But…I still need to know what’s going on, and you’re who I chose to ask. I’m speaking to you from outside of your soul, using a spell to peer inward. So. What, exactly, is happening on the surface?”

Ah…

As if I was in a dream, I haltingly started explaining to the Lich everything that had happened.

From the last stand of the Nocturne Division, to the machinations of Nerexxa and her ritual…

To what Elys and Nehustan had told me about the Godbound she had awoken.

At the first mention of the Vampire, Tlazo’s expression had grown irritated, but when I spoke of the woken Calamity?

He started swearing loudly. “Son of a bitch. That’s what she was after?!” He threw up his hands in disgust. “If I had known she was going to wake a damned Calamity, I would have stopped her!”

“What?” I asked him, my bafflement lending me more coherence. “You…knew about Nerexxa?”

Tlazo spared me a glance in his frustration. “Yes, yes, I knew about the Vampire. I warned you before you left, didn’t I? There was more going on behind the scenes than you knew. She approached me some time ago, and tried to get me to work with her. But, she didn’t raise much of a stink when I turned her down. I’m suddenly regretting not turning her to ash.”

I wanted to shout at the apathetic old Lich, but it…didn’t matter anymore. I can’t even imagine how many lives could have been saved if he had just killed Nerexxa when he had the chance. Even the War might not have happened, if he had just done his damned job.

I knew what to do, though.

“You’re going to deal with her for us,” I told him directly, taking an almost aggressive step towards Tlazo. “To atone for your carelessness.”

Tlazo gave me a sharp glance at that. “Watch yourself, boy,” He said warningly. “The only reason I’ve helped you so far is because of your connection to an old colleague. You, however, are not that man. What makes you think I’ll acquiesce to your demands, and not flee the coming storm?”

I smiled sharply at him. “Because Elys is calling in her debt,” I said vindictively, enjoying the shock that erupted on the Lich’s falsely fleshed face. “You’re going to kill Nerexxa to atone for your sin of inaction.”

Oddly, I saw a strangely silver mist blow through the void in the center of my soul at my words. The branches of my damaged tree creaked ominously in the wind, while it caressed my body almost soothingly. Tlazo, however, shivered as the mist brushed his form.

He scowled, and threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. Fine!” He almost shouted. “I should have known you would have connections to that interfering old biddy, with how Greycton has taken you under his wing.”

“I’ll slay your damned Vampire, boy.”

<<Chapter 197 | Table of Contents | Chapter 199>>

Chapter 197 - Somewhere, Somewhen

The darkness that surrounded me was thick enough that I nearly wasn’t able to breath. The very air was tainted with it, and the Aether that around me felt…wrong. It felt like it was suffused with an ancient malaise.

That was lifting, though. Something had woken from a slumber that had lasted for generation upon generation, and an alien mind was rousing. With it, that sense of being was rising from it's resting place, to find triumph on the surface above.

But the opposite was happening to me. The murk was so all encompassing that I wasn’t able to tell when I switched from the waking world, to that of the dreaming.

I floated there in the resulting black, for a time. It felt like my eyes were open, but they saw nothing before me. For once, there were no enemies in my sight for me to throw myself against in vain. There were no innocents to free from bondage. And…there were no companions to fight side by side with.

A selfish part of me wanted to stay here forever, in this vast nothingness. Here I had no responsibilities, no struggles. There were no scant victories or crushing defeats to be found in this murk. Every time my wandering mind tried to focus on the depth of my failure against the beast that was Nerexxa, and what it meant for the whole of Vereden, I shied away from it.

I didn’t want to remember.

There was only the numbness of the void.

I can’t say how long I floated there, in that gloom. It could have been seconds or centuries, for all I knew.

But eventually, all things must end.

Something stirred in the blackness.

I wasn’t aware of it, until I caught the faintest trace of movement somewhere just out of sight. Sluggishly, I tried to focus on it, but I couldn’t.

All I could see was the slightest of waves, as if a long body had disturbed a stagnant pool of water.

A voice pierced the pierced the blackness. Though it was quiet, in the depths of this dark, it rang out as if it was projected from a loudspeaker.

“What’s this, what’s this?” A sibilant whisper sounded, carried upon echoes. “A mortal, in this place?” It paused for a moment. I almost physically felt the attention that was being directed at me. “No…not quite. A Precursor, yes yes. I recognize that glint upon your soul. That’s what you are…”

Listlessly, I raised my head to try and see who or what was speaking, but it was…so hard. “Who…” That was all I was able to get out, before even that brief surge of energy left me.

“Who, who, he asks,” The voice breathed in an amused tone. “As if he was an owl, and not the spawn of old Terra.”

Old…Terra…

Did this person…or thing…mean Earth?

Suddenly, I was much more alert. Somehow, Ringed Mind had faded from me in the depths of this murk, but no longer. I felt my mind fragment into rings once more. My outer was still mired in what felt like induced lethargy, but not my middle and core.

I could focus again.

I forced myself on my feet, somehow finding my footing in an endless void.

“Oh? Did that catch your attention, failure?” The voice called. Now that I was able to focus better, I could actually see whatever was speaking to me circling just out of sight. It was as if I was surrounded by the form of a gargantuan snake, its coils winding about me on the edge of my vision.

But…it was wrong. It was as if this thing was many serpents all at once, all layered on top of each other. The winding lengths of scales that formed a solid wall around me were nearly glitching in my vision, overlaying on top of each other. It formed an illusion to where it appeared as if there were thousands, or even millions, of snakes that stretched off into infinity.

The inky horizon was dominated by an ocean of scales.

Strangely…I felt no fear.

In this place, it was as if I could sense the intentions of the being that had found me. This thing…

I was nothing more than a gnat to it. It cared little for my existence, and felt no need to swat me.

I found my voice. “What do you mean…failure?”

I saw a brief flash of intense yellow eyes in the sea of scales. “I meant what I said, and I said what I meant. You…are a failure, like all of your kind,” The voice said, almost kindly. “It is in your nature, I’m sorry to say. But you in particular?” A brief chuckle. “It’s been some time since a remnant has failed so spectacularly.”

I closed my eyes, no longer able to hide from what had sent me to this place. “Nerexxa.”

“The little tick is irrelevant,” The voice said dismissively, shocking me out of my self-pity. “It is what she has awoken that is the source of your failure, Precursor.”

That’s right…

Just before the ground had caved in on us, I’d heard Nerexxa screaming about a ‘monstrosity’. Whatever her ritual was, it hadn’t been about directly calling her goddess back to Vereden. She had said something about it being the actual catalyst to bringing this ‘Ixiah’ back.

Suddenly, I was feeling much more hopeful about the future.

The voice must have noticed, because it chuckled at me. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, little Precursor,” They said, dashing those same hopes. “What the tick has awoken is as far above her as she is above you. If you failed against the bloodsucker, then I doubt your chances against it.”

It…

“What…is it?” I asked hesitantly. In the brief moments that I had been awake as I fell into the caverns below the now deceased Olsen’s palace, all I had seen was a shadow.

A massive one. Something big enough to dwarf the palace itself, and blot out the light of Tarus.

But what I had felt...

The voice hummed. “A gatekeeper,” It said pensively. “Or perhaps a keymaster? One of the two. Certainly a weapon, though. A foolish one, and something only the ‘divine’,” I could physically feel the contempt that the creature surrounding me infused in that word, echoing through the murk. “Could harness. Where the little tick is a knife in the dark, meant to turn knots of resistance against one another, this was a proper greatsword. A bludgeon, to utterly crush armies in its path.”

“A Calamity.”

Oh.

I see...

“Not a full one, admittedly,” The voice continued. “Not even the ‘gods’ could manage to leash a true Calamity. Instead, they cultivated them, and at the exact moment before a chosen Prime ascended, they were stopped. And instead of developing their own spark, they were given a piece of a god’s own stolen divinity. From that moment on, they were loyal little doggies. They called them Godbound, as if they could even pretend to that title. This one is old and weak, but still strong enough to squash you like a bug, and fulfill its purpose at the same time.”

“Purpose?” I called out into the blackness.

“Oh yes,” The voice said, liquid amusement thick in its tone. “That gnat Ixiah left it behind as insurance, caring little for her little ticks in the process. Her hound, on the other hand, could one day be her ticket back onto this verdant land. All it needs to do…is properly attune the Portal Stone to her location, and that upstart can return. Hmm,” They hummed. “I believe she was banished to Azul. The upstart must be feeling quite waterlogged, after all those millennia spent in that storm. No doubt she longs for these shores.”

As the voice chuckled to itself, I frowned. “What do you want from me?” I asked bluntly. “Why are you here?”

I could almost hear the shrug in the voice as it spoke next. “Oh, I expect nothing from you, Precursor,” It said dismissively. “I felt the stirrings of the beast, and decided to poke my head over this way. I was curious to see who was foolish enough to wake the sleeping giant.”

“I don’t believe you,” I challenged. “Who are you? What do I call you?”

“Call me?” The voice said, surprised. “You don’t. I call upon you. But…if you’d like a moniker? Then….you may refer to me as Nehushtan.”

Something unexpected happened then. A light began to shine through the darkness of…wherever I was, coming from overhead. It was cool, comforting, and most of all, familiar.

Looking up, my breath caught in my throat as I beheld a perfect full moon.

And I do mean perfect.

It was like no moon I had ever seen. It hung in midair with an immaculate surface, with none of the craters that were visible on either the surface of Earth’s moon, or Vereden’s. It was perfectly spherical, perfectly smooth, and perfectly radiant.

And its light was shining directly down on the entire area. The form of the serpent was illuminated briefly, allowing me to see its massive triangular head, crowned by what looked like tree roots. But I lost sight of it almost immediately, as the entire thing retreated in a plume of murk with a hiss.

An irritated female voice rang out in the darkness, originating from the moon. “Get going, you old menace. This one is beyond you.”

The snake seemed like it hadn’t really vanished just yet, because I heard its voice echo out from beyond the near platform of light I was now standing on. “Children these days, no respect for their elders,” The being calling itself ‘Nehushtan’ grumbled, before I felt its attention fall on me once again. It dropped its pretense of curiosity then. “If it’s answers you seek, then find me, Precursor. I am not bound in the way of these upstarts and wisps. I can tell you all that you want to know, and all that you don’t know you do.” The voice began to fade away, as if its owner was retreating from the harsh glare of the moon. “Seek me out, in the northern mountains…”

The darkness beyond the radiance lifted somewhat then, and I could tell that whatever that thing had been, it was truly gone now.

“What…was that?” I asked out loud breathlessly.

“An old ghost, squirming in the dark,” The female voice said, irritation thick in her tone. “From an age so long ago that not even the bones of Vereden can compete. Pay its words no mind, as you have other concerns. You have to wake up, Nathaniel.”

I reeled, a stab of pain piercing through me at her words. I bent over, clutching my chest in agony, feeling like something was lodged right in the center of my being.

The female voice sighed. “What a disaster this is,” She said, sympathy thick in her voice. “But it’s going to have to be you that handles this, I'm afraid. I’ve informed my beloved about what’s happened, but neither he nor his forces can reach you in time to deal with the Godbound. It’s already begun the process of attunement.”

I looked up incredulously at who I suspected was the spirit that Grey loved. “How?!” I said weakly, nearly crippled by my pain. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t shut it off with Ringed Mind, and I wasn’t appreciating this reminder of what real pain was like. “How am I supposed to kill this thing, when I could barely scratch Nerexxa?!”

“Don’t worry,” The woman said soothingly. “You have all the tools you need to slay this beast. The Vampire will be dealt with by another, closer than you think.” She paused for a moment. “If he complains, just tell him I’m calling in his debt. Your task, however, will mark you…but I know you can do it. My love wouldn’t place his faith in those that don’t deserve it.”

As a more natural darkness began to grow around my vision, and the vision of who I suspected was Elys above me began to fade, she had one more thing to say before I left this place.

“Oh, and Fade sends his love….”

……………………………………………….

I awoke to agony.

Thankfully, this was an agony that I could immediately shut down, allowing me to descend from my suffering-filled panic. Once I had done so, I opened my eyes…

To find that I was once more surrounded by darkness.

This wasn’t the supernatural darkness that I had somehow just been dreaming inside, where I had spoken to what I thought were a pair of Spirits. No, this was the familiar darkness of a deep, dark cave.

And it was easy to see what was causing my pain.

There was a long splinter of stone piercing straight through my front. Looking down and muting my panic response, I could see that it luckily looked to have missed my heart, which was probably why I wasn’t already dead. I think I had fallen straight onto it, and it had gone right through my…right kidney.

Ah.

This was…quite the predicament. How was I supposed to deal with this? It was hard enough performing impromptu surgery on other people with Aetherial Melding, but on myself was a whole other matter. Especially when I had no help, no supplies, and…

I looked down at my left arm, already suspecting what I would see.

Yup, my prosthetic left arm was crushed.

I only had one functional arm.

The golden prosthesis had taken the blow that had nearly killed me straight on from Nerexxa, and suffered for it. The outer golden shell of the limb was completely crushed, and I think the Mithril bones had been bent as well. I was lucky I didn’t have real pain receptors in the enchantment for the arm, or I was sure it would be screaming at me. The best I could do was twitch a few of the fingers slightly, but it wasn’t usable anymore. I was going to have to melt it down completely, reforge, and then re-enchant the whole thing in order to get my arm back. Luckily, it didn’t look like the damage extended to the cap on my stump, so the port that connected the false limb to my soul was still intact. All I’d need to do…was make a whole other limb.

But that didn’t help me now, when I was in mortal danger.

And looking around?

I wasn’t the only one.

All around me, I could see the still forms of those who I had fought Nerexxa alongside. Crook, Thirty-Two, Dusk, even Baldric.

I did find…

Sylvia.

Even through my enforced calm, my breath caught in my throat at the sight of her, lying splayed out against a nearby boulder in this cave.

She wasn’t moving.

<<Chapter 196 | Table of Contents | Chapter 198>>

Chapter 196 - Almost

I found an ill-fitting suit of light armor on the racks and threw that on quickly, while I snatched up a nearby spear and pair of fighting daggers. It was all trash compared to my Order armor, and especially my hand-crafted Oninite blades.

But it would have to do.

When I was ready, I met up with the others at the door, similarly kitted out in Loyalist junk. Longstripe and his squad eyed us evilly for wearing their colors, but didn’t say anything.

Dusk barely waited a moment after we finished to kick open the door to the courtyard without another word. She charged out the door, with Longstripe and his loyal soldiers right after her. Sylvia, Crook, and Thirty-Two followed right after, but I paused for a moment before I left.

I looked over my shoulder at the gathered, frightened masses of innocent refugees that had been pulled into Nerexxa’s scheme. I…wish there was more I could do for them right now, but there wasn’t. I couldn’t reassure them that everything was going to be alright, because I didn’t know. I couldn’t get them out of here, so they were out of the line of fire. And I couldn’t even protect them, when Nerexxa was so much more powerful than I was.

The only thing I could do, was do my best to deal with the Vampire holding us all captive.

I took a deep breath, turned around, and charged right out the door. I was hoping to see the battle going well. Either Baldric had been matching Nerexxa, or the addition of everyone who had joined the fight had turned the tide against the Vampire.

Unfortunately…

That wasn’t the case.

Illuminated by the menacing crimson glow of Nerexxa’s disturbing runes, I found the situation rapidly deteriorating.

I watched as one of the Loyalist soldiers following Longstripe was torn in half almost nonchalantly by Nerexxa, little more than fodder for her razor sharp talons. At the same time, she grabbed the head of the mace that Longstripe had grabbed from the armory, as the man did his best to crush her head with a roar. She didn’t even flinch at the force of the blow, and I was sure that it was more than strong enough to kill me from a graze alone. Nor did she care about the other soldiers trying to hack at her with their standard-issue blades.

Longstripe was being supported by Crook, but it didn’t look like she was having much success either. Crook tried to attack Nerexxa with her combat stave, only to have to frantically block a sweeping blow from one of the Vampire’s four wings. The woman-thing was using her newly grown appendages to great effect, either blocking or striking out with them as true extensions of her own body. The hardened edge of the wing snapped Crook’s stave in two, causing the woman to stumble back and stare at the shattered wood in her hands in disbelief and despair. After a moment, though, she rallied herself and jumped back into the fray, swinging the splintered ends of her weapon in both hands.

Meanwhile, Sylvia and Thirty-Two were trying to pepper the Vampire with arrows from the Loyalist bows they had grabbed. They had found vantage points around the courtyard to do so, but…it didn’t seem to be very effective. Nerexxa was barely paying attention to the arrows that were arriving in a steady stream from the two archers. Most of the time she didn’t even flinch as they either ricocheted off of the scaled surface of her skin and wings, or were disturbingly absorbed by the nearly fluid surface of her blood-red ‘dress’.

I didn’t see Dusk, or importantly, Baldric for a moment. I only found them when I looked up at the remains of the balcony that I had been captive on, now resting in pieces on the bedrock of the courtyard.

I hurried over to them, barely skirting the furious melee in the center of the courtyard. I was able to see what was keeping Baldric out of the fight when I got closer to them, and I grimaced at the sight.

Dusk was frantically trying to treat a massive gash in the dwarf’s abdomen, which threatened to spill his entrails all over the shattered stone below him. He barely seemed to notice it, however, and was struggling to push himself up into a sitting position.

I guess that answered the question of if Baldric could take Nerexxa by himself.

I hurried over to the two of them, dropping my spear as I did so and into a skid that stopped at his side. Over his protestations, I ripped off a section of his cloak, dissolved it into individuals with Aetherial Melding, and got to work stitching him up.

I did my best to ignore the sounds of battle behind me as I treated my leader.

With the practice I’d been getting recently, it only took me moments to do a slapdash job of stitching Baldric closed. As soon as I was done, he abruptly sprang to his feet and snatched up his hooked blades lying on the stone nearby.

I hissed at the movement. “Be careful, damnit. That isn’t exactly medical-grade thread keeping your insides from the outside.”

Baldric spared me a brief look of acknowledgment, before his eyes lingered on Dusk for a moment with frustration visible in his gaze. “Shouldn’t have come back for me, girl,” Was all he said, before he rushed to join the fight with Nerexxa, uncaring for his wounds.

He missed Dusk’s answer. Or…maybe he didn’t, considering how high his perception must be.

“I couldn’t leave you behind…” She whispered, before shaking her head. Dusk didn’t even look at me before she followed after him.

I sighed and stood up, snatching up my shitty spear as I did so. When I turned to face the battle again, I saw that in the brief moments I had spent patching up Baldric, all of the Loyalist soldiers but Longstripe had been slaughtered.

Now it was only Longstripe, Crook, Baldric, and Dusk in melee range of the monster in the shape of a woman. Longstripe and Baldric were working in a surprisingly well-coordinated attack pattern to try and keep her occupied, while Dusk and Crook were dancing around at the edges. They seemed to be trying to hit her from multiple angles, to at least take her attention away from our heavy hitters. The long-range attacks from Sylvia and Thirty-Two continued in the meanwhile.

Well, I knew where I needed to join in.

I ignited the head of this spear with The Scintillant Blade, and dove into the edges of the melee with Crook and Dusk.

This close to the transformed state of Nerexxa, I swear I could physically feel the sensation of blood sliding against my skin. The world was tinged ever so slightly crimson, and the air was thickened somehow, even though I could still breathe. I wasn’t sure if it was just the copious amounts of blood that had already been spilled in this courtyard, but the scent of iron hung heavy all around me.

This…this had to be her Mantle. In the same way Grey darkened the world around him, and Honoka ratcheted up the heat, Nerexxa drowned the world in blood.

Baldric, and surprisingly Longstripe as well, had Mantles deployed as well. I was familiar enough with Baldric’s razor-sharp air scraping against my skin to recognize it for what it was, even if it was still unpleasant. The other sensation, that of a large, angry animal breathing heavily against the back of my neck, was new though. This must be what Longstripe’s own Mantle manifested as. It made me wonder in the back of my rings why he hadn’t deployed it during our duel, but I dismissed the thought.

Instead, I focused on trying to focus in the first place. The combined effect of all three Mantles weighing against me was beyond oppressive. Not just mentally, but physically as well. The sheer weight of their power pressing down on me was so great that I had to deploy Sylvan Vigor at half-strength just to move through it.

But I endured, and once I was in position, I struck out at the joint of one of Nerexxa’s wings guarding her back. She obviously somehow felt or saw the strike coming, but seemed to believe that her wing would be able to protect her from my burning blade.

I felt a surge of triumph at how she wasn’t taking it seriously.

Because it worked on her.

The head of my low-quality spear, enhanced by my racial Skill, cut right through the scaled membrane of her taloned wing. It reached the ball joint of her monstrous appendage at speed, and with a slice, completely severed the limb.

As it fell to the bloodstained bedrock below, the battle slowed for a moment, as my comrades took in the sight of the first real wound anyone had dealt to the Vampire.

Nerexxa didn’t cry out in pain at the blow that had deprived her of one of her main methods of battle. Instead, she looked over shoulder in bewilderment at the sight of her severed wing. “Well,” She blinked. “That’s new.” Her eyes shifted up to trace the path of the spear that had cut the wing from her back, meeting mine. “Nathan dear, I’m…afraid you’ve grown too dangerous to keep around.”

Nerexxa’s entire demeanor shifted at that. Where before she was as playful as she’d been since I’d met her, now she looked serious, as if we were no longer mere flies buzzing about her head. My Skill had shown Nerexxa that at least one of us had the ability to actually hurt her, which caused the Vampire to stop playing.

I nearly died in the next few seconds.

I didn’t even see the attack coming from the Vampire that nearly took off my head, as I suddenly lost my novelty to her. I was only able to tell what had happened after the fact. In a move faster than I’d ever seen, from anyone on Vereden, she had wheeled around to lash out at me with long taloned fingers, sharper than any blade.

Baldric saved my life.

He appeared right in front of me, his daggers swirling with razor-sharp winds, to block the claws that nearly beheaded me. He struggled against the strength of the Vampire, but didn’t seem distressed by this. Instead, I was at just the right angle to see him grin at her with bloody teeth. “Got you.” He breathed.

The cadence of the battle changed, then. Seeing that I was able to hurt her, the efforts of everyone else fighting Nerexxa changed from trying to kill her with their own abilities, to protecting me.

Because Nerexxa had realized that I was the real threat to her. Not Longstripe. Not Baldric.

Me.

She was serious now, in her assault. Baldric had shifted almost entirely to protecting me, his blades flashing in movements too quick for me to follow as he deflected her talons and wings. Longstripe, meanwhile, had changed his approach. Instead of merely trying to crush her under his might, he was now attempting to box her in. I was so much slower than Nerexxa, after all. I couldn’t be relied upon to land regular attacks on the Vampire. Instead, she had to be funneled into the path of my spear blade, so she had nowhere to dodge.

Dusk and Crook shifted to emulate Longstripe, even though they weren’t as strong as him. They started to do their best to harry her in whatever way they possibly could. Skills and Spells and Arts I didn’t know started to pepper the monster before us, trying to at least distract Nerexxa.

Sylvia and Thirty-Two abandoned their long-range assault to join in. The three of us may be the three weakest combatants on the field right now, but they still had something to contribute. Illusionary Skills and Arts from Sylvia may barely affect Nerexxa at all, but even a fraction of a fraction of a second of distraction from the Sculpted woman was invaluable. Meanwhile, Thirty-Two began to display previously unseen abilities with fire, of all things. She lashed out with large, diffuse fireballs aimed at Nerexxa’s face, trying to blind her with either the flame itself, or at the very least the smoke of it.

With this combination from everyone, it was slowly, slowly working.

We began to push Nerexxa back and corner her. She was surrounded at all times by others trying to practically force her onto the length of my spear, and it was working. I was managing to land more and more strikes against the vampire, my brilliantly burning spear carving chunks of already rotted corpse from her inhuman frame. The shreds of the facsimile of humanity that she clung to began to fall away, bit by bit, until all that I could see before me was beast.

A monster.

Unfortunately…

This made Nerexxa desperate.

And the desperate do desperate things.

Nerexxa exploded, a vomit-inducing haze of Aether charged blood forcing us back from her. In the midst of it, she suddenly lashed out with all of her remaining limbs, moving even faster than she had before. I…don’t think anyone was prepared for this sudden display of reserved might.

Not even Baldric.

I saw a wing sever Crook's right arm at the shoulder, sending the woman staggering back in a cry of agony.

I saw a talon scrape across the face of Dusk, removing her left eye in a haze of gore.

I saw…another talon pierce the Mithril abdomen of Sylvia and wrench outward with a tortured shriek, opening the metallic surface of my partner for the world to see.

And…

I saw Baldric’s throat release a spray of blood, as Nerexxa opened it with the swipe of a taloned wing.

I was so shocked by the sudden incapacitation of half of our fighting force that I froze for a single, solitary moment.

And that nearly cost me my life.

It was only thanks to my solid gold, enhanced prosthetic that I didn’t die. The blow from Nerexxa came from my left side, and impacted the fake limb in a shower of sparks. I instantly lost feeling in the mystical limb, and went flying to impact the far wall of the courtyard, near where Baldric had been laying earlier.

I hit the stone and nearly blacked out.

Nearly.

Groggily, I looked up from my resting place, a distant sense of panic growing in the back of my rings.

Across from me, in the center of the courtyard, I saw that Nerexxa had grasped Longstripe with both of her taloned lands. They had pierced straight through him, almost as if he had been run through with the bars of a sharpened cage. He was still alive, though, and staring up at the creature holding him duly.

“I wanted the final sacrifice to be the dwarf,” Nerexxa hissed, in a strangely resonant tone that carried across the courtyard. “But…you’ll have to do.”

She wrenched outwards with both of her monstrous hands, and Longstripe came apart in an explosion of gore.

The instant his life’s blood touched the runes below, their glow…

Vanished.

Instead, a rumbling began to emanate from deep within the earth, originating from somewhere below the palace. The world began to shake around us, as more and more of the palace started falling apart into rubble.

Nerexxa threw back her head and laughed. “FINALLY!” She screamed into the heavens. “IT COMES! AWAKEN, OH MONSTROSITY, AND BRING OUR MOTHER HOME!”

The ground below us began to fall away, as the stone of the courtyard revealed itself not to be bedrock after all.

Just…the roof of a cavern.

I was too stunned and weak to do anything, as the world fell away from me.

Into darkness.

And as I fell, a shadow rose. It rose and rose and rose, until the crimson tainted light of Tarus above….

Winked out.

……………………………………..

AN:

The actual lowest point in the story, so far.

This is gonna have consequences.

Some quick references, if you’re interested, for power scaling purposes. Longstripe was around level 450, while Baldric is around 530. Nerexxa, on the other hand, as an undead, does not have a Status. But she’s about the equivalent of a level 600 or so.

<<Chapter 195 | Table of Contents | Chapter 197>>

Chapter 195 - Hidden, Hiding, Hid

I couldn’t stop myself from staring blankly at the way Crook was breaking us out of the I couldn’t stop myself from staring blankly at the way Crook was breaking us out of the overpowered chains that held Dusk, Thirty-Two, and I together.

With her bare hands.

The masked woman, who I had last seen retreating with the injured form of Wisp after the battle in the garden, was grasping each length of chain in her hands and snapping them in half. She didn’t even look to be trying very hard.

I had no idea Crook was either that strong, or that high in level. Still, I was happy to see that at least one other Agent that I knew had escaped the chaos of the warehouse battle.

By not being there in the first place.

However, even though Crook was in the process of freeing those of us in bondage, with me being the last in line, there was still a problem.

My arms were still dislocated.

I grunted when the chains finally fell off, staggering to my feet. As I did so, my arms swung uselessly at my side. I could barely even feel them, from the combination of the injury and being bound for so long.

Crook had brought the three of us, plus Sylvia, to what looked to be a small armory not far from the courtyard. It was the farthest we could go with the red dome shield that Rhiannon, or rather ‘Nerexxa’, had cast over this section of the palace. I had heard her boast about her true name, as we were being carted off of the balcony.

We weren’t the only ones in here, as well. Huddled and scared inside the relatively small room were dozens of both civilians.

And Loyalist soldiers.

The soldiers were huddled into one of the far corners of the room, nearly piled on top of each other. Both groups were keeping a distance from the four of us for the most part, but I had caught a few dirty glances from some soldiers who bore the heraldry of the Herztalian 4th.

Longstripes division.

Heh, I guess they might have been at the warehouse. There’s a chance I could have killed some of their friends.

I was knocked out of my observations by Dusk approaching me from my left side. I only managed a glance at her before I felt the Gnoll woman grasp my hanging left arm, and with a twist and shove, pop my dislocated arm back into its socket. I still had my pain dampened, so the only thing that I felt was the disquieting sensation of bone grinding against bone. I shuddered at the feel of it.

I turned to give Dusk a tired, irritated look. “You could at least given me a warning,” I grumbled.

She just ignored my whining and approached my right side, quickly doing the same to that arm. Once I had control over both of my arms once again, I turned to face the others and opened my mouth.

Only to be interrupted.

Sylvia, who had already been freed from the blood ropes Nerexxa had bound her with earlier, marched right up to me and slapped me across the face.

Hard.

I actually stumbled back both from the force of the both, and the tiny bit of pain that had leaked through my block. Her solid Mithril hand hadn’t pulled any veritable punches from her expression of displeasure. Before I could even ask what that was for, she preempted me. Reaching forward and clamping down on both of my swollen shoulders, she pulled me in until the only thing I could see were her two sapphire blue eyes, staring furiously into mine.

“Don’t you ever,” Sylvia hissed at me. “Try and sacrifice yourself for me again. Do you hear me, Nathaniel Hart? Never. Again.”

Ah.

Last night, I’d left Sylvia with barely more than a kiss and the map Nerixxa had ‘gifted’ me with. I hadn’t told her what I was going to do, in the heat of battle, and I hadn’t exactly asked her opinion about my off-the-cuff plan.

I had just…acted.

I can see how that would piss her off.

I nodded wordlessly to show my understanding of her demand. Sylvia studied my face seriously for a moment before she returned my nod. Her arms slid down from my shoulders to grab me in a hug, clutching me tightly.

I returned it, just as glad to see that she had survived the battle at the docks. I heaved a sigh, my face buried in her golden hair.

Our little moment was interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared pointedly. Looking up, I found the other three people we had arrived with watching in various degrees of patience to impatience. The impatient sound had come from Dusk, who was looking antsy to get moving.

“Now that you’re done with your little moment,” She said testily. “We can get down to business.” She abruptly dismissed us, as Sylvia and I separated from our reunion. “Crook, status? How many are here?”

Crook sighed, reaching up remove her mask. Underneath were the tired features of a perhaps thirty-year-old woman, streaked through with stress wrinkles. Rather than an assassin, Crook struck me more as a worker, with broad, square, strong features. Right now, they were sagging with exhaustion. “Everyone that’s left,” She said wearily. “Which isn’t much. In one fell sweep, the Loyalists, apparently controlled by that thing, managed to nearly wipe out both the Division and SED.” She spared a glance for Thirty-Two, who had been standing off to the side and watching our discussion with a frown on her youthful features. “You guys got hit too. It was even worse for the SED ambush, from what Hook told me. Both of our organizations…we’re pretty much defunct, after this.”

Thirty-Two closed her eyes, but didn’t say anything while Crook continued.

“The Solstice classers were assigned to the meeting between Hook and the SED remnants, while obviously we were hit at the warehouse by the Loyalists. It was-”

She was abruptly cut off by the sound of crashing and cracking stone from the courtyard outside. A murmur of terror swept through the civilians inside the armory, while those of us of a more martial persuasion listened tensely to the obvious signs of high-level battle.

It sounded to me like the fight between Baldric and Nerexxa was heating up.

The crashing stopped, but the boom and clashing of blades didn’t. Crook continued, with one final wary glance at the door. “It was a bloodbath. While I gather there were more soldiers hitting you at the warehouse, there were higher quality classers at Hook’s meeting. The results were that although Hook won out in the end, I’m not sure more than three to five SED Agents made it out alive.”

Thirty-Two couldn’t help a small, choked breath escaping her pursed lips. She slapped a hand over her mouth and turned her back on us, but not before I saw the beginnings of tears in her emerald green eyes.

A slightly awkward pall hung over us for a moment, before a loud crash interrupted it and reminded us we were still in danger. “After that, Hook gathered up everyone left from both groups, learned about what happened to you kids, and then through together a quick plan.” She paused for a moment. “To be honest, quick is an understatement. We…knew we didn’t have much time, if we wanted to save you from that…thing.”

“And now Hook is trying to take her out,” I said with a frown. “Can he?”

Crook looked unsure, which to be fair, I shared the sentiment. Exactly how strong was a Vampire? Dusk had told me that they were weapons from the time of the gods, but what did that even mean?

My attention was drawn when I saw that Thirty-Two had composed themselves and turned back around to face us. I could still see the redness in her eyes, however. “Unlikely,” She said bluntly. “Your leader is well renowned for his dueling prowess, but that creature out there is more than his match. Unassisted, I do not believe he is capable of slaying her.”

Unassisted, huh. That...was the key word.

I took a deep breath, as I saw resolve start to grow in Dusk’s eyes to my left. Without a word, she turned away from the group and ventured out into the stacks of weaponry here in the armory. She didn’t pay any attention to the civilians in here who cringed away from her presence. I…could guess what she intended from her relationship with Baldric. And it didn’t seem like she wanted to rely on her fists like she usually did, when confronted with someone like Nerexxa.

“Then we need to make sure he’s not unassisted,” I said grimly.

Answering nods came from Sylvia and Thirty-Two, while Crook still looked hesitant. “Hook asked me to get you kids out of here safely,” She said quietly.

Thirty-Two scoffed. “Safety?” She said scornfully. “There is no safety to be found. We’re all trapped here in this shield, and even then! Even then I’m sure not anyone is safe for hundreds of miles, maybe even the whole of Vereden. That psychotic thing is trying to summon one of the old gods back to our home. If she steps foot on Vereden again, it’s over. There are no gods left to protect us from her influence. Nothing else matters now. Not the war, not you rebels, and not the hordes of monsters roaming the countryside.”

“We have to fight,” Sylvia said with resolve, having calmed down from her earlier fury.

Something happened then that caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up straight. Another voice piped in, one I was extremely unhappy to hear.

One that belonged to a man that had nearly killed me last night.

“We all have to fight,” I heard a rough, ursine voice say in a pained growl. I froze for a second, before turning to face the direction it was coming from. The far corner that held the Loyalist forces hiding in the corner, nearly stacked on top of each other, seemed to have been hiding someone from our sight.

Atticus Longstripe.

The Loyalist soldiers shuffled away, revealing the injured form of the Loyalist General sitting in a chair that looked ready to collapse from his weight. Longstripe looked…rough. The bandages over the wound I had given him last night were stained red with fresh blood, and the high-level soldier was covered from head to toe in fresher wounds. Bruises and cuts dotted his massive frame, while a much more glaring injury stood out on his left side.

It looked like his left arm was broken. Badly.

It was twisted and bent at an odd angle, with the bone almost looking ready to tear through his tough skin. The entire area looked to be filling with blood, from the deep, nearly black bruise that colored the entire limb. Some solider had snapped the haft of a spear in half in order to wrap it around the limb as a makeshift splint.

I’m guessing it had happened when Nerexxa had kicked him away, before engaging with Baldric. I certainly hadn’t seen the spymaster do that to him, in the lightning-fast engagement between them. He seemed coherent, though, and not the raging beast that had tackled Baldric out of midair at Nerexxa’s instructions. I’m guessing Hook’s knockout blow had freed him from her influence.

Longstripe spit out a mouthful of blood to one side, eyeing us with only one eye. The other was crusted over with blood that dripped from a head wound. He took a deep breath and stood up with a pained wince, before starting to limp over to tower over our group. The group of soldiers that had been trying to tend to him followed in his wake.

I met Longstripe’s one good eye fearlessly, already starting to feel my hackles rise from being in the presence of the man who had all but wiped out the Nocturne Division.

He met my hostile look with one of his own. “The girl is right,” He growled. “None of you matter right now. Rats and cutthroats can be dealt with after that bitch has been killed.”

I sneered at him. “Oh, and you’re going to help us fight her, is that it?” I said scornfully. “Big talk from a man who was already under her spell.”

As Longstripe returned the mutual animosity with a sneer of his own, I was startled to feel a cool, metallic hand lay itself on my shoulder. I followed it to see that although Sylvia was giving him a hostile look as well, it was more restrained than my own. “He’s right,” She said reluctantly, before meeting my eyes seriously. “He can be dealt with for his sins after Nerexxa.”

“I’ll like to see you try, little girl,” Longstripe said menacingly. Syliva ignored him.

I did my best to ignore his provocations and let out a heavy breath, looking around at everyone else. Crook looked like she was nearly ready to jump him, and I was surprised at the animosity in Thirty-Two’s eyes considering she used to be a Loyalist. But neither looked ready to argue with Sylvia’s point.

Reluctantly, I met Longstripe’s one good eye and nodded. “Later,” I still promised, meaning to keep it. “We can settle this later. But for now we need to deal with the damned Vampire.” I paused for a moment, a thought occurring to me. “Where did you put my weapons?” I said, taking a look around the armory. “Don’t tell me you already handed them out to your flunkies.”

Longstripe scoffed, as we heard the sound of masonry crumbling outside in the courtyard. “They’re in Fort Duality,” He said, referring to the castle that was co-owed with the Orcs. The one in between both Elderywyck and Tlatec that housed the Portal Stone. “You’re just going to have to make do with honest Herztalian steel, cutthroat.”

Dusk rejoined us then, eyeing Longstripe with suspicion. She looked to have requisitioned a suit of Loyalist armor and the accompanying weaponry. He just returned the look, eyeing her with contempt. “If we’re doing this, then stop standing around talking about it and get ready,” She said curtly, eyeing us impatiently.

With one last exchange of hostile gazes with Longstripe, those of us still unarmed ventured out into the stacks of armor and weaponry to kit up.

I did my best to squash any of my doubts as I did so.

Whatever else was going on, we needed to take out Nerexxa.

I’m not sure Vereden had a future if we didn’t.

<<Interlude 11 | Table of Contents | Chapter 196>>

Interlude 11 - Bloom of the Raven

Baldric of House Florens, third son of a first son, was no fool.

Although his body was locked in furious combat with an actual fool, senses captured by a relic of the past and raging about, at his core he kept cool. Like the countless, impossibly deep roots of a flower, his mind stretched into winding fibers beyond number.

All of them told him that this entire situation had been carefully curated by the beast holding Liora and the other kids hostage. Oh, they may have only been hobbled with chain and shackle, but at the level he and the beast were operating at, he knew that was just show. With how close the children were to it, it would only take a few moments thought to tear out their throats.

He knew it, the creature knew it, and even this damn fool of a Loyalist General would have probably known it.

If he was anything more than a blustering beast right now, that was.

Still, there was a reason the civilized people of Vereden people were cautious of beasts.

Just because they were feral, didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.

Baldric had always assumed he would be the one that ended up dealing with Longstripe, when this campaign drew to a close. From last reports, the two of them were fairly close in level, with him only being around fifty or so higher than the Herztalian man. On a good day, he would have said that a match-up between them would come down to a test of pure martial skill, a veritable coin toss. That was one of the areas he specialized in, of course, but the fact remained. However…

This wasn’t a good day.

For the General, that is.

Longstripe wasn’t demonstrating any of his normally reported skill. He was swinging and clawing like a wild animal, uncaring about collateral damage. At the very least, Baldric was proud that his Agents had the idea to keep the civilians out of the line of fire, after those first few moments when he was speared out of the air.

Enough innocent blood had been spilled this day.

Baldric hesitated to call Longstripe ‘innocent’ though, after the man had massacred so many of his people last night, but…

At the very least, he deserved to die with his mind clear.

After all, Baldric could have ended this anytime in the last few minutes of battle. He had just been considering all angles, while the mind-controlled human raged at him.

It hadn’t escaped his notice that the entire damned palace courtyard had been turned into a ritual site at a gesture from the bloodsucking monster. It sure as hells hadn’t when it seemed to grow stronger with every drop of blood that stained the bedrock.

It didn’t take a damned genius to see what that thing wanted, from his battle with Longstripe. If it had carefully orchestrated this entire scenario, Baldric would guess that the she-beast didn’t even care which of them actually shed blood. Only that one of them did.

You…picked up a thing or two about forbidden Magic, in his profession.

Well, if the bitch wanted blood, then obviously she couldn’t get it.

Mind made up, Baldric rapidly crafted a simple battle plan while his body dodged Longstripe’s wild swings on the outside. Normally, he wouldn’t have expected a canny warrior like the General to fall for something as simple as this. But, well.

He didn’t have his wits about him.

The next time Longstripe swung at him, Baldric activated the higher tier of his physical enhancement Skill.

Corrente D’Acciaio.

And…

Ducked.

Well, it was really more like he slid through the open legs of the taller human man, and then used his right hooked dagger as a pivot point to pop up behind the General. But ducked worked just as well. Now behind Longstripe, and moving much quicker now, all Baldric had to do was lash out with nearly his entire power with the butt of his dagger. The pommel impacted the back of the human’s head with enough strength behind it to utterly crush the skull of most people. Hell, it could probably do the same to even someone with an equivalent to his level.

But no. Instead, the ursine man just staggered from the blow. While he was reeling, Baldric hit him a few more times, until the General had fallen face first into the blood-soaked courtyard, beaten unconscious.

Baldric stared down at the prone form of Longstripe for a moment, disappointed for a few reasons. One, that had been one of the most flaccid duels he’d had in decades, especially considering their heightened levels. He’d almost been anticipating a real fight with the human, when he was planning this campaign.

Two?

Well, he had really wanted to kill the man, after his little two-pronged ambush on both the SED meeting, and the warehouse.

There were a lot of good Agents that needed to be avenged, after all.

It seemed he was going to have to wait another day, however.

The courtyard had stilled at his easy victory over the puppet General. By this point, his Agents and the Loyalist soldiers had cottoned on to the fact that something else was going on. They were working together to corral and guard the remaining civilians on the far end of the courtyard. The fighting between their respective factions had completely died down, and all eyes were either on him and Longstripe’s prone form.

Or the creature at his back, up on the balcony.

Speaking of…

Balric raised his head to look up at the thing, standing above him.

At his stare, ‘Rhiannon’ heaved a great, put-upon sigh and laid the back of one taloned hand on her forehead. “Why oh why do the cattle never do what I want?” She moaned exaggeratedly. She lowered her hand and shrugged. “Oh well. I’ll just have to do the dirty work myself.” Barely sparing a glance at the still chained and bound forms of the four youths she had been guarding, the Vampire abandoned them to hop down into the courtyard with a flex of her four wings.

She landed with a slight splash on the blood-soaked bedrock, not far from Baldric. The only thing between the two of them was the comatose, twitching form of the mind-controlled General.

The Vampiress spared her defeated pawn a disgusted glance. “You had one job, fool,” She said, sounding like a disappointed schoolmarm. She actually wagged a taloned finger at the man, even though he could neither hear her words or see her gesture. “Naughty naughty. I’ll have to punish you later.” In contrast to her tone, she nonchalantly kicked the spasmodic body of Longstripe out of her way.

It hadn’t looked like the blow had much power behind it, but the form of Longstripe sailed through the air nonetheless. It impacted the far wall of the courtyard, cracking the immaculately carved limestone. Several Loyalist soldiers hurried to attend to the man, but neither Baldric nor ‘Rhiannon’ paid them any mind.

Instead, they started circling each other on the gore-splattered stone, as if they were hounds fighting over the last scrap of meat.

Baldric broke the stalemate first. “You know,” He said casually, twisting his blades into different angles and approaches as he spoke. He was trying to gauge the skill level of the creature apart from him, as how she reacted to his movements would tell him plenty. At the level they were operating at, fights could be decided in a single exchange, so it was often necessary.

This wasn’t a spell battle, after all. This would be decided by blade and claw.

Unfortunately, she met and countered them each time, unfazed by his maneuvering. “We haven’t had to deal with one of your kind in a long, long time. I think the last Vampire hunt happened when I was still a boy. My father told me about it, since the bloodsucker was found in Principality lands. I think their name was…Valstrix?” He said promptingly.

To his very slight surprise, the beast perked up slightly at that. “That blowhard poked his head out of a hole and got it chopped off? Good!” She laughed delightedly, rubbing her talons together. They grated on each other with the sound of steel on steel. She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I never liked him, you know. Always boasting, always so arrogant. I don’t even think my mistress liked him very much, to tell you the truth,” She said with a wink.

Baldric took it in stride, as he saw movement behind the creature up on the balcony. He had long since mastered all of his tells, so he gave absolutely nothing away as he saw Crook creeping along the roof above the balcony. He made sure to stop the circling, though, so the beast couldn’t see her as well. “And what’s your name, creature?” He said promptingly. “Or are you going to continue pretending it's ‘Rhiannon’? I wonder…does the Calonawr Archmage even know you’re puppeting around his dead daughter's corpse, and flaunting her name as you do so?”

Normally, he wouldn’t expect this kind of dialogue to work on an actually rational opponent. But one of the well-documented, few weaknesses of the Vampyr was their tendency to…talk.

And talk and talk and talk.

Better for him. That just gave one of his few surviving senior Agents time to rescue the kids.

‘Rhiannon’ shrugged delicately. “I don’t actually know,” She said, audibly amused. “I’ve seen the man a few times now, and you would expect someone of his power to be able to sus me out. But…I think he doesn’t even care,” She gasped, almost as if she was scandalized, before tittering. “All that matters to him is that his dear, sweet daughter will hug and call him papa. I think he’s really quite broken inside, if you ask me.” She winked. “Something to do with his dead wife, I’m guessing.”

Baldric didn’t let the disgust her words caused in him to show on his face, even as he felt an unexpected surge of pity for Daffyd of the Thunderhearts.

He…knew what it was like, to lose the love of his life.

“But…as for my name,” ‘Rhiannon’ said, tapping one taloned finger against her lips, before shrugging. “I suppose it doesn’t matter at this point. You’re all going to be dead soon, anyway.” She said casually. Taking a small step backward, the monster who had been masquerading as a woman swept out into a curtsey, grasping the hem of her ghastly dress. “I…am Nerexxa, fourth daughter of the Goddess of Rot. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Baldric of House Florens.”

“I’m not,” Baldric said bluntly. Behind ‘Nerexxa’, he saw Crook had bodily picked up all four of the reluctant-to-leave children and thrown them over her broad shoulders. He was grateful that he’d gotten past his misgivings, those years ago, when he had accepted the Strength invested Magi into the Nocturne Division. It had paid off time and again.

Most importantly now, when she was retreating with who he thought were four of the most important youths in Herztal.

He could breathe easier, and finally get to the business of monster slaying.

He angled himself into position for a lunge.

Nerexxa noticed but didn’t seem to care. “Oh?” She said mildly. “Is it finally time to stop stalling, now that the children are safely out of my grasp?”

Baldric snorted. “Guess you can’t put one over a demon,” He said, coating his daggers in razor-sharp winds. “Did you ever even care about holding them?”

The Vampire shrugged. “No, not really,” She admitted freely, before smiling sharply at him. “They were only ever bait, after all. And the baited came when the trap was set. Thank you for attending this grand occasion, oh disgraced lord of House Florens.”

Baldric paused, startled a little despite himself. “What?” He asked, baffled despite himself. “Are you saying…all of this was just to bait out me?”

What the hell could this thing have wanted with him?

“Well,” Nerexxa drawled. “Not just you. After all, I would have taken Greycton, or even that woman Honoka. I only needed the blood of someone strong, spilled in pitched battle. It didn’t matter who came, only that someone did.” She sighed, rolling her eyes. “If only Longstripe hadn’t failed, I wouldn’t have had to sully my hands like this.”

The master of the Nocturne Division took a deep breath at that. “Liora for me, Nathan or Sylvia for Greycton and Honoka,” He said quietly in realization. “But…why take Thirty-Two as well?”

Nerexxa winked at him. “Well, I needed an after-party snack, now didn’t I?” She said mischievously. “After all, it’s not every day you get to dine on the blood of one of the old royal lines.”

Ah…so she did know who the girl was.

Shit.

Baldric shook it off, though, and refocused on the fight to come. He didn’t know if he could take this creature, but he sure as hell was going to try. It didn’t matter if this entire trap had been about drawing him out so she could drain his blood for some ritual.

The only thing that mattered…was that Liora had gotten away.

Gods, he hoped that fool girl didn’t come back for him.

Baldric raised his blades again, possibly for the last time, and blurred into a lunge at the wide-open neck of the Vampire.

She blocked his razor-sharp, wind-coated dagger with one taloned finger, entirely unfazed. Meeting his eyes, the creature smiled slightly, exposing her fangs.

Baldric set his features in a grim cast.

And tried again.

<<Chapter 194 | Table of Contents | Chapter 195>>

Chapter 194 - Blood of the Innocent

The two Solstice classers guarding Dusk, Thirty-Two, and I abandoned us to charge Hook. Accompanying them were well over a dozen different Loyalist guards who had been waiting out in the hall, all trying to furiously cram their way through the double doors leading to the balcony.

They weren’t really succeeding.

As tied up as I was, there wasn’t much I could do to help Baldric, still locked in a standoff with Rhiannon.

‘Wasn’t much’ though, wasn’t anything.

I stuck out my foot as far as I was able to as one of the guards passed me by. I wasn’t expecting that to actually do anything, but…

It did.

The surprisingly clumsy Solstice guard stumbled over my foot. In fact, he stumbled so hard that he actually tripped, and wasn’t able to stop himself from tumbling over the side of the railing in front of me.

I blinked at the odd spectacle, as they fell out of sight down to the courtyard below with a brief scream.

They were drowned out, though, by the sound of the refugees from the Stacks own panicked yells. At the sight of the Duke’s assassination, they were all trying to flee the courtyard in a mad rush to the gates. For some reason though, they weren’t able to make it out. The view was blocked, so I couldn’t see what was stopping them, but there was no movement near the back half of the courtyard. Instead, there was almost a crowd crush developing, which caused my stomach to drop even more.

I couldn’t imagine how many of those poor people were going to die in the midst of this.

I could only spare a brief glance for their plight, though, as things up here on the balcony were progressing.

Before any of the rushing guards could reach Baldric, even beyond the moron I’d tripped, a number of different Agents suddenly appeared on the platform to push them back. I was only a little surprised to see that they weren’t all Nocturne Agents. Instead, half of them were from SED, with their eerie black spell masks obscuring their faces.

They rushed the guards and began to push them back, weapons flying and flashing through the air. In moments, they had forced the guards away from the balcony and down the hall on the other side.

Meanwhile, another, more familiar Agent dropped down from the roof above the balcony to crouch in front of Dusk and I.

Wisp, or rather.

Sylvia.

Without a word spared, she drew her short sword, and tried to hack at the powerful restraints holding us.

Her sword, which I suspected was hewn from the same material as Grey’s own Stellarum, bounced off of the chains. I heard Sylvia curse behind her mask.

I shook my head rapidly, gesturing upwards to my mouth. Sylvia understood, and reached up to hurriedly rip the disgusting blood off of my mouth preventing me from saying anything. I winced at the feeling of several hairs being torn out, but still immediately spoke. “She has the key,” I said quickly, jerking my head in Rhiannon’s direction.

Sylvia followed my gesticulation and cursed. “Then we go around,” She said grimly. She raised her sword once more, and instead of aiming for the chains, she swung at the railing instead.

That, at least, wasn’t obviously magically reinforced.

Her blade sliced right through the iron of the railing.

I blinked.

Yeah, that worked.

The railing fell away in pieces and us prisoners backed away from it. The problem was, even though we were technically free now, the three of us were still bound together. Thiry-Two still had a hood on their head, and they were, admittedly, keeping their calm pretty well considering the chaos that was erupting all around us. I reached beyond Dusk and did them the favor of removing it, finally getting the chance to get a brief look at the young-sounding woman.

I…wasn’t expecting them to look slightly familiar.

She was young, as I was expecting, seeming to be in her mid-teens, with short-cropped, light blonde hair and emerald green eyes. The pale-skinned girl was tense, with a serious expression on her nearly elfin features, and her eyes were darting every which way. They briefly settled on me, sending a strange bolt of recognition down my spine.

Something about her…it reminded me of someone. Another teen I’d met a few weeks back, with similar coloring.

Prince Oskar.

But…I didn’t have time to parse that right now.

None of us did.

Because Rhiannon finally made a move, breaking the standoff between her and Baldric. The two of them had just been standing there in the few moments since Baldric's accusation, but strangely, they hadn't done anything. The only thing I'd noticed were a few odd fluctuations in the nearby Aether in their surroundings, but nothing physical had happened.

Smiling slightly, the Vampire raised her hand into the air with one finger outstretched. Without breaking her gaze with the dwarf, she twitched that one finger.

At the first sign of movement from Rhiannon, Baldric had exploded into an imperceptibly fast lunge, but still.

He hadn't been quite fast enough.

Immediately, the far right wall of the pavilion exploded outwards, glass shards flying every which way. I had to duck out of the way in order to avoid being decapitated by a large piece of razor-sharp plate glass. When I craned my head back up, it was just in time to watch as a man rocketed out of the dust cloud of the explosion.

A man I had nearly killed last night.

General Atticus Longstripe, of the Herztalian 4th.

In the brief glimpse I got of the man before he tackled a Baldric out of midair, I almost didn’t recognize the man. He looked almost wild compared to how he’d been last night, a visible snarl etched on his ursine features. He was bare-chested from the waist up, allowing me to see the large roll of blood-stained bandages that had been wrapped around his torso. Once again, he had foregone the great mace he had been using in order to fight bare handed. But…I’m not sure it was his choice, this time.

It looked to me that Rhiannon had direct control of him.

That was all I saw of the man, before he speared Baldric around the abdomen and down into the courtyard. My mouth opened slightly in horror when I saw that the force of their impact had veritably pulped a small group of refugees that had been trying to flee in vain.

At the level they were fighting at, I wasn’t able to keep with their fight completely. But from what I could tell, Baldric kept trying to disengage from Longstripe in order to take the battle somewhere, anywhere else. Somewhere that wasn’t in the middle of a pack of innocent civilians.

But Longstripe wasn’t letting him.

Instead, he was swinging wildly, enraged by whatever control Rhiannon had on him. He wasn’t bothering with Arts, or Skill, or even pure martial skill. No, this was a display of pure physical might.

And the refugees were dying in droves from it.

So much so that both the Agents who had engaged the Loyalists below, and the Loyalists below, had entirely stopped. Instead, they were now doing their absolute best to keep the refugees away from the veritable battle of the Titans that was occurring in the midst of the courtyard.

They weren’t always successful. In moments, the flagstones were coated in blood and gore from those unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire.

But there were enough soldiers and Agents doing what they could to save innocents, that whatever blockage had been at the entrance of the courtyard had been cleared. People looked to be slowly managing to escape from the crush.

Rhiannon didn’t like that. She audibly tsked. “No, no, we can’t have that,” She said, raising her arm once again.

Whatever she was about to do, Sylvia preempted her. Without a word, my partner rushed the Vampire with her blade outstretched and glowing silver. But the gulf between their strengths was just…too much.

Rhiannon didn’t even need to look at Sylvia, before ropes of blood sprang up out of nowhere to bind the Sculpted woman from top to bottom. She yelped as she fell face forward onto the balcony, skipping across the surface to impact the railing on the other side. The impact was enough to visibly dent it, where Sylvia lay struggling like a captive worm.

“Not now, little girl,” Rhiannon said boredly, her outstretched hand starting to glow a malicious crimson. “I’m busy.”

I tensed at how quick Sylvia had been dealt with, trying to take a step forward myself. But my feet, not to mention my hands, were still bound in chains. I only managed a brief shuffle.

“Nobody leaves,” Rhiannon said with finality, snapping her glowing fingers. A shockwave of tainted, bloody Mana erupted in a dome from the impact, traveling fast. In moments, it had passed us all by and beyond to surround the entire courtyard of the palace in a glowing dome.

Rhiannon had just trapped everyone here in a shield of some kind. The fighting, except for the battle between Baldric and Longstripe, ground to a complete halt. The refugees, soldiers, guards, and Agents all looked around in distressed confusion at their now confined surroundings.

The Vampire who seemed to have meticulously arranged everything that had happened so far crowed in victory. “FINALLY!” She cried, spreading her arms wide and throwing her head back in exultation. “Finally, all the pieces are in place! Let the ritual BEGIN!”

With that, the flesh beneath her sheer dress undulated wildly, and the creature masquerading as a woman…

Stopped pretending.

Two massive sets of batlike wings erupted from her back, one of them nearly smacking me in the face. Curling, ram-like horns rapidly grew from her forehead in an instant, to encircle her suddenly knife-like ears. Her hands and feet grew scales, the points of them sharpening into talons sharp enough to pierce straight through her shoes.

This was no longer a woman.

It was a monster.

At some unseen signal, the flagstones of the palace courtyard began to shatter, to reveal hundreds, no, thousands of runes etched into the bedrock below. I couldn’t understand them at all, despite my above-average literacy in the runic language. Something about the sharp strokes and harsh angles of these particular runes made my skin crawl.

The blood that had coated the flagstones from the victims of Baldric and Longstripe’s brawl sunk into the carvings. Slowly, they started to pulse slowly in the shade of what they had just absorbed, casting the entire palace in eerie shades of crimson.

“The blood...of the innocent…” The creature that Rhiannon had become breathed. Slowly, she reached down until she grasped the headless corpse of Olsen, still oozing from Baldric's decapitating strike. “The blood…of the noble…”

She threw the cadaver down into the bloodbath that the courtyard had become, where it impacted one of the disquieting runes with a splat. Almost immediately, the glow intensified.

Next, she reached over to slit her own arm with her blade-like talons. She had to squeeze her arm, but she eventually produced a cupped hand of dark, coagulated, foul-smelling blood. She raised that hand up into the sky in near supplication. “The blood…of the loyal….” Rhiannon uttered, almost lovingly. Without another word, she threw that disgusting liquid out into the air as well, where it fell to the runes.

They glowed brighter. Bright enough that their light almost began to blot out Tarus above. The air began to grow heavier with the weight of the corrupted Aether I could feel swirling all around me.

Rhiannon smiled almost peacefully, her fangs poking through her lips. “Now…all we need is the blood of the mighty.” She chuckled breathily. “And it. Will. Be. Done.”

My face paled at the implication. The mighty. Then…the fight between Baldric and Longstripe…

Somehow, I found my voice in the midst of this madness. “Does it even matter who wins?” I asked quietly enough that I’m not sure the monster would even be able to hear me.

But she did.

Rhiannon turned her head slightly to look at us prisoners, still hobbled by shackle and chain. She smiled slightly. “No.” She said simply.

Dusk slowly closed her eyes to my left. “And what will happen when one does?”

I was shocked to see genuine tears of emotion gather in the eyes of the inhuman creature holding us captive. “Then? Then I shall set into motion that which will reunite me with my mistress. With the one true goddess that this ungrateful world cast out.”

“Ixiah…”

<<Chapter 193 | Table of Contents | Interlude 11>>

Chapter 193 - Farce

“Quentin, be a dear and get started, will you?” Rhiannon said casually to the man standing on the balcony with us. She didn’t turn to face him, though.

The man, now positively identified as Duke Quentin Olsen, inclined his balding head to the disguised Vampire. “As you will, my love,” He said, surprisingly accommodating for such a powerful noble.

Well, surprisingly if he wasn’t totally under Rhiannon’s control.

He wasn’t quite what I had been suspecting, for a man who had been described as an incredible schemer. I’d built him up in my mind as some kind of rat-like figure constantly rubbing his hands together and eyeing the wealth of those around him with greedy eyes. But no, instead, he was almost handsome.

Olsen had the look of a middle manager who had been handsome and charismatic once upon a time, but those looks had started to fade with age. He was tall, but not unreasonably so, with still-defined musculature that was only just starting to go to seed. Pale, and with equally pale blonde hair, his unremarkable brown eyes stared out at the world from sharp features that were starting to look a bit…drained. I couldn’t help but notice that the man seemed a bit anemic, with deep bags under his eyes.

If I had to guess, Rhiannon had been using him as a walking, talking blood-bag.

I took a deep breath, only briefly drawing his attention before being dismissed, as the Duke walked up to the railing of the high balcony we were on. Rhiannon went with him, affecting a falsely demure posture behind and to his left. Meanwhile, the Solstice guards shoved us forward until we were up against the right side of the railing. They unclipped Dusk, Thirty-Two, and I from out lead, and chained us instead to a ring on the railing.

The massive crowd of people below hadn’t noticed him, so Olsen raised his right hand. Arranged on the edges of the courtyard on either side, courtiers I hadn’t noticed raised bugles to their lips and sounded them out in a short tune. The crowd's murmur began to die at the fanfare, and they gradually began to notice the Duke looking down at them in false welcoming.

“Welcome!” Duke Olsen suddenly boomed, his voice much louder than I would have expected it to be. It echoed out into the courtyard, silencing all remaining conversation. “Welcome, all ye citizens of Herztal! I am Duke Quentin Olsen, rightful ruler of this fair city of Elderwyck, appointed duly by the Crown! You who have waited outside the gates of my city all these weeks need wait no more! I welcome you into the warmth and safety of my walls, each and every one of you!”

The crowd below erupted into ragged cheers and cries of relief and gratitude, as I saw more and one person slump to their knees in relief and sob.

Meanwhile, my eyes widened in realization, as I took a closer look at the gathered people. I had initially thought that these were the regular people of Elderwyck, but I was wrong.

Instead, these were the people of the Stacks. That collection of hastily thrown together shanty towns and ramshackle buildings that housed all the people who had been waiting outside the gates of Elderwyck. They looked ragged, now that I had a better look at them, worn down by the life of a refugee. But…I could almost see the tension fleeing their bodies, as relief claimed them. In their minds, this must be a miracle. The Duke who had been so reluctant to let them inside was instead now saying they could shelter within the walls.

But it was all a lie. I don’t know what was happening, but they weren’t being granted safety.

Rather, this was all some sick game being played by Rhiannon.

I felt sick to my stomach at the cruelty of it all.

“Just this last night!” Olsen continued grandly. “My forces conducted a raid upon the hide-out of the ne’er do wells who had been assaulting my fair city! Oh, how I have wept so to see my beautiful Elderwyck bedeviled by the horrific actions of the vile Uprising.” He shook his head in false sorrow. “But no longer! Led by the brave General Longstripe, our forces have quelled those evildoers good and rightly!”

More cheers rang our rang out from the gathered crowd, but this time I detected a bit of confusion in them. After all, the Stacks had been filling up since before the Nocturne Division had started its campaign in Elderwyck.

The Duke was engaging in a bit of historical editing, like nobles tended to do.

But I don’t think the refugees cared, even if they could see through it. They were just glad they were safe.

They weren’t, though. I was starting to suspect that none of us were.

As I was inspecting the crowd, I could see that Dusk was doing her own. I could see my Gnollish companion’s orange eyes darting all over the crowd as best as she could. Not only that, but she was scanning the nearby rooftops of the palace. Eventually, I think she found something, as she stilled ever so slightly. The reaction was so minuscule, though, that I only noticed because I was shoulder-to-shoulder with her.

Still, that must have been enough for Rhiannon. From my position near the railing, I saw a slight smile grace the disguised vampire’s demurely lowered face.

Shit.

Meanwhile, Olsen kept speaking. “And so, with the horrid war safely beyond our walls once more, I have gathered you all here this day for a special occasion!” He said, before doing something that caused my blood to run cold.

He turned, and pointed at us.

“An execution,” He said menacingly, smiling in an almost empty way. I saw the heads of the crowd turn to face us in confusion. “These miscreants are some of those villains who were terrorizing my fair city. They were captured in the wake of the military actions this past night, and I have decided to make an example out of them. Herztal, nay! The world must be made to understand that Elderwyck stands strong and proud! That we will push back against the hordes, monster or otherwise, that seek to cow us!”

I frowned slightly, barely acknowledging the puppet Duke. None of this was actually his idea. It had to be part of some scheme of Rhiannon’s.

But what? What was the point of this farce? I doubted she had gone through all the trouble of capturing Dusk, Thirty-Two, I, only to execute us in some kind of show.

Movement in the crowd drew my attention.

While there were almost too many people in that mass of starving and desperate refugees to count, they were, for the most part, behaving in similar ways. But the training that I had received during my time in the Nocturne Division, and from mentors and companions that were all the way back in Helstein, I could see some discrepancies.

Slowly, ever so slowly, there were some people maneuvering their way through the crowd. They were being as casual as they possibly could about it, but they were making their way to the front of it, passing beneath the notice of not only the refugees, but the guards on the edges of the courtyard.

They were moving towards us.

I clamped down as hard I possibly could once I realized what was happening, desperately hoping that I hadn’t given them away. Was this what Dusk had seen, before I did? Because I recognized those movement patterns.

Those were spies and assassins trying to get into a better position.

No, no, no, NO!

Run! Get out of here, I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs.

This…this was a trap.

And…

The three of us were the bait on the end of Rhiannon’s hook, weren't we?. But why?! What did she care about the Nocturne Division for?

Why…why go through all this effort, just for us.

Fuck it.

Fuck it, FUCK IT, FUCK IT!

Sylvia might be one of those Agents, walking into the jaws of Rhiannon's trap. In fact, it was likely. I know I would have been right there with them if she had been captured.

I would never be able to live with myself if I didn’t take the chance to warn them when I could have.

I took a deep breath, inflating my lungs as deeply as I could, and prepared to shout my warning at the top of my lungs.

I didn’t get the chance.

Before I could speak, an impossibly fast glob of dark red liquid impacted not only my mouth, but that of Dusk’s as well. I tried to open my jaw, but whatever this was, it was like glue.

And it tasted awful. Like the rotting corpse of an animal, left too long out in the sun. I tried to look at it as best as I was able, but all I could see was a congealed mass of red liquid sticking my lips together.

Following the source of the ooze, I found Rhiannon wagging one finger at me discreetly, like she was a school teacher scolding a naughty student.

Oh.

Was this…blood? Suddenly, I wanted to vomit into the cavern of my sealed lips. I repressed it, though.

But not the sickness in my stomach.

There was nothing Dusk or I could now, to warn our comrades. We couldn’t yell or scream, and we couldn’t even wave our arms about to warn the Agents walking into a trap. Our hands were still chained to the railing.

I felt tears of frustration well up in my eyes at the unfairness of it all.

Frustration, and sorrow.

With lead in my belly, I watched as the concealed Agents, either Nocturne or SED, finished getting into position just underneath the balcony. They stayed there, though, apparently waiting for something. I didn’t know what, but…

I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

The entire sequence of events that led to my silencing by Rhiannon only took a few moments, but the entire time, Olsen had been ranting and gesticulating to the increasingly confused-looking crowd.

That was cut off though, when I heard a sudden squelching noise. At the same time, I felt another spray of liquid on my face.

This time, much, much hotter.

Jerking, and turning to see what had happened, my jaw would have dropped at what I saw.

Because the liquid that had hit my face was blood as well. Only…it wasn’t cold and dead like Rhiannon’s had been.

No…this was Olsen’s lifeblood.

The Duke had frozen in place because two hooked daggers had pierced him straight through the throat. Before he, or anyone else by the matter could react, they pulled outwards, fully decapitating Quentin Olsen.

His head went flying, momentarily shadowed by the light of Tarus above and raining more arterial blood upon those below. Rhiannon was especially coated in it, considering how close she had been to her dominated puppet.

The corpse of Duke Olsen slumped to its knees, allowing me to see who had just assassinated the leader of Elderwyck. Even though I already suspected who had done it, I was still both relieved to see him.

And scared for him.

Hook, or rather Baldric of House Florens, was standing at the front of the railing that I was still chained to. I say Baldric, because for some reason, my leader wasn’t wearing his Nocturne mask. Instead, his craggy face and steel grey beard were bared to the world, as his equally aged long hair blew in the wind of the courtyard. He was nonchalantly wiping the blood of his target off of his hooked blades, on the surface of his grey Nocturne cloak. He spared the three of us captives a brief glance, his eyes lingering on Dusk for a moment, before fixing his gaze intently on the unbothered form of Rhiannon.

Said Vampire was idly inspecting the blood that had coated her tall, lithe frame. She lifted a hand and watched idly as Duke Olsen’s blood dripped from her fingertips. “A bit early...but not a great loss,” She finally said, breaking the silence on the balcony.

Baldric snorted, and finally finished cleaning his blades. “Is that so? I happen to agree. Greycton wanted to interrogate him, but he’s just going to have to pound sand,” His eyes hardened. “There are bigger fish to fry.”

Rhiannon finally lifted her gaze from the blood on her hands, almost reluctantly. She locked gazes with the dwarf standing above with no fear evident on her beautiful face. “Oh?” She asked leadingly, teasingly. “And what fish are those, Duelist?”

The leader of the Nocturne Division lifted his hooked dagger to point at his target.

Her.

“Vampires, for one,” Baldric said grimly.

Rhiannon smiled slightly.

That seemed to be the signal that finally broke the spell that had fallen over the courtyard at the Duke’s assassination.

Screams erupted all around me, and the world fell into chaos.

<<Chapter 192 | Table of Contents | Chapter 194>>

Chapter 192 - Under the Skin

Over Rhiannon’s shoulder, I saw Dusk do something I’d never seen from the Gnoll woman.

A long slow sigh of realized fear. Resignation painted her furred face, and her cheeks dropped as her apparent suspicions about the noblewoman were confirmed.

I, meanwhile, was trying to wrap my head around the concept as well.

What even was a Vampire, in the context of Vereden? I had no point of reference to make a guess. The idea that Rhiannon was a Vampire of all things was absurd, considering what I’d seen from the woman. Stories from back on Earth had painted them, depending on the source material, as bloodthirsty monsters with weaknesses to daylight, stakes through the heart, fire and silver, religious iconography, and garlic of all things.

But I’m not sure any of that applied to Rhiannon.

For one thing, I’d seen the woman move about perfectly fine in the daylight. Hell, it had been the height of the day when I’d first met her in Jason’s shop. She hadn’t seemed to care about the light at all. Silver was out as well, as the previous dress I’d seen her wearing had silver clasps directly resting on her pale skin.

I had no idea about fire, which…was kind of a universal weakness to most things, but I kinda doubted that garlic would bother her. And…did she even have a heart?

I felt a chill run down my spine.

Holy fuck.

For the first time, I realized that I wasn’t getting a reading off of Rhiannon from Lifeblood Sense. I felt nothing from the woman with either the passive sense that the Skill granted me, or the more active, focused version. I couldn’t feel a drop of blood rushing through the woman-thing’s veins.

How…had I missed this? My only excuse was that I was used to the feeling at this point, and had just kind of…tuned it out, when I could directly see the person in front of me.

God fucking damnit. If I had only paid more attention, then how much of the last day could I have prevented?

I…

I didn’t have time for this. Even though all of these thoughts were racing through the depths of my rings, I kept them off of my face.

I had to focus on the creature in front of me, who even the normally unflappable Dusk seemed to be almost frightened of.

Actually…

Why hadn’t the Solstice guards reacted to her revelation? When I cast an I over to them, I saw they were still just standing right next to my suspended form, stoically staring off into the distance.

Rhiannon had been so careful earlier about stopping her escorts from hearing about her true nature, but she didn’t care at all now.

The woman must have noticed my attention on them after her silent revelation because she waved a hand nonchalantly. “Oh, don’t look to them like they’ll save you, Nathan,” Rhiannon said, amusement thick in her voice. She sauntered casually into the cell with us and approached one of the guards, patting his cheek like he was a dog. He didn’t react at all. “After Liora’s little scare from earlier, I tightened my grip on these puppets in the meanwhile. It’s a bit tiring, but so much would have been ruined if they had thought to message that buffoon Shacklock. These boys wouldn’t flinch even if I spat on them now,” She winked at me. “I don’t recommend you try that, my dear. They’d probably react poorly.”

I did my best to keep my breath even as I met the woman’s glowing crimson eyes. “What are you even after, Rhiannon? Why all these…games?” I’m not sure I was able to keep my frustration out of my voice, after the way this…thing had played all of us against each other. And so successfully, at that.

This time, it was my cheek that the creature reached out to pat. My skin crawled at the contact, as I felt, for the first time, just how cold her flesh was. “Oh, rest assured. It has all been for a purpose. The suffering of your countrymen…the banalities of this droll little civil war. Why, even the infighting in your royal house has all been for a single purpose.”

I blinked slowly at the words, meeting Dusk’s eyes over Rhiannon’s shoulders again. I didn’t care for the resignation I saw in her orange eyes.

There was…a lot to unpack from that statement.

I wet my suddenly dry tongue. “Are you saying…,” I said slowly. “That you’re behind the civil war? Everything that’s happened…has been because of you?”

Rhiannon laughed delightfully at the shock that had slipped onto my face. “Goodness no!” She said, almost clapping in her glee. “I’m good, darling, but I’m not that good. No, I merely…facilitated things. I happened upon a few choice pawns, and from whispering in their ears, those ears led me to more. Those whispers merely stoked fires that already existed. I can’t create anything that doesn’t already exist. Passive suggestion is so much simpler than active control, like I’ve been forced to do with these fools,” She flicked a dismissive hand at the stoic Solstice guards. “No, I’m afraid the sentiments within the Herztalian nobility against the Scupted already existed.”

Oh.

I…guess there was no easy explanation for hatred. Would have been nice, though.

While I was processing that, Rhiannon tsked. “I don’t understand it myself, though,” She admitted freely. “Why, in my day, if we’d had access to your modern Sculpted? We would have been delighted to grant them whatever they wished. How such a marvelous creation came to be in such an uninspired era is a bit baffling.”

‘My day’?

“What are you talking about?” I asked with a frown. “From what I understand you’re not much older…than…me…” I trailed off, as Rhiannon started laughing in the middle of my sentence.

“Oh me oh my. I see that upstart Greycton has been a tad deficient in educating his newest apprentice,” She tittered, amusement thick in her voice. “He never did his due diligence in educating you about the monsters that may lie under your bed?”

Dusk spoke up then. “That creature isn’t Rhiannon of Clan Calonawr,” She said bluntly. “It’s merely wearing her skin. The girl has been dead for a long time now. I’m assuming ever since the unspecified accident that occurred in this very same palace?” She asked evenly.

Rhiannon flicked a bored gaze over her shoulder at the Gnoll, but still nodded. “Oh, accident is such a dirty word. I prefer…providence. But yes, I’ve been in this particular change of clothes for around six years now,” She admitted freely. “It’s been a gaff, let me tell you. I don’t often get the chance to be such a pretty young thing like poor little Rhiannon, so desperate for attention. It’s a…refreshing change of taste.”

I furrowed my brow, a bit perplexed at the way this conversation was going. Y’know, beyond the fact that I was strung up in a dungeon and hanging from a ceiling. “Why…are you telling us all of this?” I asked, baffled. “Why expose all of this secrecy?”

Rhiannon stilled for a moment, still facing Dusk. Slowly, her head turned to face me, and when it did, I felt a rush of dread roll down my spine.

Her pupils had twisted and elongated, narrowing into the slit of a cat’s eyes. She leaned in closer to me, only inches away from my face. “That’s the thing,” Rhiannon said breathlessly, a spark of madness evident in her inhuman gaze. “I don’t know. Why am I so interested in you, Nathan Hart? There’s something about you that sparks a hunger in me, beyond the necessities of my nature. I do not thirst for your blood as I do the rest of you pathetic mortals, and yet I am drawn to you nonetheless. It is as if there is an indescribable quality to the spark of your soul that entices me. I cannot describe it as anything more than…divine.”

Insane.

Beyond being a monster that fed on men and women, this thing was crazy. Whatever it was that was drawing her to me, it wasn’t divinity. There was only one thing different about me that could affect her.

My Precursor nature. Something about it was drawing her in, like catnip to a tiger. But there wasn’t anything divine about that.

At least…to the best of my knowledge.

“Are you a Godblood, perhaps?” Rhiannon hummed, slowly starting to circle me. I did my best to keep her in view by craning my head, but the guards kept me in place. “Is that why Greycton is so invested in you? It’s the only thing I can think of, really. The scent of your soul reminds me ever so slightly of that of my poor mistress. I miss her so, so much,” Briefly, her voice transformed behind my back, becoming eerily animalistic in quality. The growls in the undertone of it sent shivers down my back. But it vanished when she spoke again. “I don’t blame her for leaving me behind, you know, all those millennia ago. The War in Heaven was so chaotic, mortal. You cannot possibly understand the death and destruction that the warring of gods brings. It’s understandable, that one of her blades was left in her wake when she was forced from the shores of this…pathetic backwater.”

This thing was a remnant from the War in Heaven. But…that was nearly three thousand years ago…

My eyes widened, meeting Dusk’s once more across from me.

Slowly, Dusk nodded across from me. “Such is the nature of the Vampyr,” She said quietly, as Rhiannon slowly started to circle back around to my front. “They’re weapons crafted by divine hands, from an age long past. History tells us they were meant to sow terror and destruction on scales we…can’t imagine anymore. It was thought that all of them had been found and dealt with. But…”

“But that which cannot truly die, only hides in the dark,” Rhiannon finished, coming to a stop in front of me. She smiled ever so slightly, the tips of her fangs peaking out. “I was defeated in those last days, but I only slumbered on this oh-so-auspicious spot until one over-ambitious noble dug too deep.”

“Olsen,” I said quietly.

Rhiannon inclined her head. “That was the ‘accident’ that Liora speaks of. Little Rhiannon was accompanying one of his digs below the bedrock of Elderwyck, and they found my hiding spot. I was weak, but the girl was incautious enough to reach out and touch my former host. From there…”

A tearing noise sounded out in the cell block, and then Thirty-Two finally spoke once more. “You dominated Olsen, and then wormed your way into every level of Herztalian governance, as your kind are meant to,” She said, disgust thick in her voice. “To think Olsen had so much influence…”

Rhiannon rolled her eyes, her posture instantly transforming from the inhuman back to that of a young woman. She leaned in closer to me. “It wasn’t just Olsen,” She said quietly with a wink, before standing up straighter. She clapped her hands suddenly. “Now! As fun as all of this was, the time for explanations is over. I wouldn’t want to spoil all of the surprises now, would I? You two,” She said, snapping her fingers and pointing them at the two Solstice guards. They finally straightened up from their near-motionless state. “Collect all three prisoners and chain them together. It’s time to take them to the festivities.”

“At once, madam,” One of the guards said attentively, moving to unchain me from the ceiling. I would have loved to take that chance to try and escape, but I was still too…well, fucked up from the battle at the docks to do so. In particular, I was reminded of how both of my arms had been dislocated, as the guard uncaringly forced them behind my back.

Thank God I had dulled my pain, or else I would have been crying at that. As it was, the throb of the suppressed agony just echoed in the back of my rings.

The other bowed slightly to Rhiannon, which she didn’t acknowledge, before approaching Dusk’s cell and opening it. She didn’t protest the rough treatment of the Solstice guard as he unchained her and force-marched the Gnoll woman out of the cell. I was shoved out of my own as well, meeting her calculating eyes as I stumbled to a halt.

She shook her head minutely. I took a deep breath before nodding just as shallowly.

Not yet, then.

We were chained together, with Dusk in front of me, while one of the guards approached another cell. When they opened it and walked inside I heard Thirty-Two try and struggle briefly, only for a resounding impact from the cell to ring out. Moments later, the rival spy was dragged out with a hood over their head. The guard dragged the stumbling presumed teen and clipped her chained form to Dusk’s.

Now that we were all together, I couldn’t help but notice that our chains and shackles were way overkill for three people that, as far as I could tell, weren’t even that powerful. The three of us were either just under, just past, or late in the first Breakpoint at level one-hundred. The sheer density of Mana emanating off of these things made me think they might be able to restrain someone like Hook.

Without even needing to ask for it, the Solstice guards handed Rhiannon the keys to all our shackles. She noticed my stare, and slipped it into a pocket on his dress with a wink.

When the guards were done, Rhiannon inspected us for a moment. A slow smile grew on her painted lips. “Now,” She said breathlessly. “On with the show.”

She turned around and walked back down the way she came, with the guards dragging us behind her.

…………………………….

I was barely able to pay attention to the interior of Olsen’s palace as we were force-marched behind the Vampire woman. From what little I could see, it was at least a bit more tasteful than Magnus’s manor had been, all those months ago.

But only slightly. There was still copious amounts of wealth visible all around me.

Most of my attention was on the humming form of the Vampire leading us through the halls, as she almost skipped down them. Whatever she was so cheerful about could only be to our detriment, and I dreaded to find out what it was.

But I’m sure I was going to soon.

I heard the clamor before I saw it, as we walked up what seemed to be a central staircase. Stretching out on either side of it were dozens and dozens of Loyalist soldiers, seemingly standing at attention. They barely spared us a glance.

Outside, it sounded to me like the murmur of an extremely large crowd, not dissimilar to that of a sports game from back on Earth. There was a note of relief and excitement that undercut the entire thing.

When we reached the top of the staircase, I only spared a brief glance at the middle-aged man standing on the balcony we were led to.

Instead, my attention was stolen by the absolutely massive palatial courtyard in front of it.

It was packed with what must have been hundreds of people.

Rhiannon took a deep breath at the sight, smiling slightly. “And here…we…”

“Go.”

<<Chapter 191 | Table of Contents | Chapter 193>>

Chapter 191 - Sanguine Reunion

I woke up.

This was a surprise to me. I had honestly thought it was all over.

Wherever I was, it was cold, dark, and damp. I couldn’t tell where it was, as I was trying not to react to waking up at all. I hadn’t moved an inch in the moments since I’d jerked away, and my eyes were still closed. This was hard, as I was profoundly uncomfortable.

My arms were tied together above my head by what felt like a length of chain, and I felt like I was suspended from the ceiling from the way my feet weren’t touching the floor. I could hear the creak of a chain from somewhere above me as I slowly tilted back and forth from wherever I was hanging. My pain suppression had faded while I was unconscious, and I’d had to hurriedly throw it back up to full strength in order to not cry out in agony. I don’t know how long I’d been strung up for, but it must have been long enough that my arms might legitimately have popped out of their sockets.

Even though I couldn’t feel the pain anymore, I could still feel the disquieting sensation of the bones in my shoulders grinding against each other wrongly. In the depths of my rings, I mentally shuddered.

Even though I’d done my best to keep my breathing even and my reactions muted, something must have still given me away. I heard a voice call out across from me, echoing off of what sounded like stone.

A familiar one.

“It’s just us down here, Hangman,” They called out in a bored tone of voice. I tensed at the sound of it. “You can stop pretending.”

Dusk!

I think?

My eyes jerked open to see…a blank stone wall. I…think I’d spun in a circle from my suspension point to where I couldn’t see out of the front of whatever cell I’d apparently been tossed in.

I tried to look over my shoulder, or better yet twist my body enough to turn around, but my rotation was slow. I’d eventually spin back around to face the direction that voice had come from, but, uh. It would take a bit. My suspended arms meant I couldn’t see over them, either.

“Dusk?!” I nonetheless called out. “Is that you?!”

“Yes,” Dusk answered flatly from somewhere behind me. “No need to shout. I can hear you just fine.”

Yup, that was Dusk alright. I’m not sure someone pretending to be her could match her bluntness so perfectly.

“Are you alright?” I asked her, as I slowly started to twist around. I still couldn’t see her yet, though. Just the other wall of my cell.

Progress!

I heard Dusk snort lightly. “I am fine. You on the other hand, look to have been beaten within an inch of your life. What happened after I was captured? It was only a few hours ago, and yet the situation looks to have deteriorated in my brief absence.”

I let out a slow breath at her question. As I did so, I let my gaze fall down so I could take in my own state as best I was able to. And yup.

I looked like shit.

Whoever had strung me up hadn’t washed me off, even if they had removed my armor, weapons, and all of my gear. I was naked from the waist up, and on my lower half I only had on my completely unremarkable black Order breeches on. Hell, they’d taken my damn boots away too. I was covered from the shoulders down in dirt, grime, and crusted blood. More a bit of that blood looked to be mine, from the numerous cuts and gashes, big and small, that littered my frame. Bruises of varying intensity were all up and down my body.

If I didn’t have my pain suppressed right now, I’m not sure I could even function.

I sighed.

“Yeah, I look like shit, don’t I?” I said wryly, in an attempt at levity. I couldn’t keep it up, though, remember what had happened. “But…to answer your question? We were hit, not long after your capture. And…it happened while almost everyone was at the warehouse.”

Because we’d been planning how we were going to rescue you.

I didn’t say that, though. She…was smart enough to guess that herself.

Dusk didn’t say anything for awhile. “I see,” She eventually answered, in the quietest voice I’d ever heard from her. The silence stretched heavily between us before Dusk finally spoke up again. “Losses?”

I closed my eyes slowly, right before I finally twisted around to face her fully. “Half to two-thirds, I’d say,” I said heavily. “Hook…wasn’t there to help. He’d gone to a meeting with SED, and even though we messaged him, he never came back. I…think they got hit at the same time we did. But we were hit by what seemed to be the entire Loyalist garrison in Elderwyck, led by Atticus fucking Longstripe himself.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice, speaking that name.

Not after how I’d failed to kill him in our duel.

I had been so close. If only I had aimed the dagger just at just a little bit more of a steeper angle, I would have taken his head clean off.

But…I’d fucked it all up.

And in doing so, I’d failed to take vengeance for all of my slain comrades.

That bitterness wasn’t helpful right now, though, so I shoved it down to where I could seethe about it later. “I’m not sure any of the senior Agents survived the assault. I know Serpent didn’t,” I said, causing an audible hitch of breath to sound from Dusk. “But I saw…a bunch of them die.”

I finally opened my eyes, to take in the sight of Dusk.

I couldn’t help the indignation that rose up in me at the sight of her. “Why the hell aren’t you strung up too?” I asked incredulously.

Because she wasn’t.

Instead of hanging from a chain attached to the ceiling like I was, Dusk was just manacled and chained to the floor. The odd maid uniform the Gnoll woman had been wearing earlier had been stripped from her, and replaced by what looked like an oddly ceremonial shift. As expected, she was maskless and observing me with a blank expression on her white furred face.

Dusk shrugged at me. “Because although we are both prisoners, we are prisoners belonging to different people,” She said apathetically, as if she didn’t care. “I am held captive by that woman, while you…I suspect belong to the Herztalian Army. You were dragged in here by them several hours ago, beaten bloody and unconscious. They were the ones who…restrained you in that manner.”

I frowned, as I continued to slowly twist away from her. “And where is here?” I asked her. “Do you have any idea?”

Dusk snorted. “Oh, I know very well where we are,” She said dryly. “They didn’t bother to obscure that fact from me. We’re in the palace dungeons. Duke Olsen’s palace, to be precise.”

I snorted myself. “The same palace that I got those blueprints for, huh. What a surprise,” I said sarcastically, Dusk leaving my field of view.

You know, I was starting to get tired of this spinning. It was going to make me dizzy, damnit.

A thought struck me, and I tilted my head in thought. Well, as much as I was able to. “Why am I here, then? If I’m in the custody Loyalists, shouldn’t they have brought me to the other palace? You know, the one the guards have?”

It wasn’t Dusk that answered me this time. It was another, unexpected voice that spoke up, from a cell somewhere off to my right.

“Because that creature has suborned the entire leadership of this city,” A high-pitched, surprisingly young voice called out. “At the snap of her fingers, they’ll obey her every whim and wish. No doubt she simply asked them to imprison you here, and everyone, including General Longstripe, jumped to obey her.”

I blinked slowly at the unexpected answer. “Dusk, who is that?” I called out to the Gnoll behind my back.

I heard Dusk hum before answering. “You’ve already met, in a way,” She answered, a note of mild amusement in her usually taciturn voice. “After all, I was taken at the same time as them.”

Oh.

“Oooh,” I said in realization. “That SED Agent, whaddya call-em? Thirty something? That you, Thirty?”

“It’s Thirty-Two, you oaf,” The SED commander snapped back. “The number Thirty isn’t even in use right now.”

I smirked to myself. I remembered their name, but something about them struck me as young as hell. They were easy to wind up, for being a commander in an enemy intelligence organization. “Right, right. Thirty-Two,” I said languidly. “How old even are you, Thirty-Two? You barely sound thirteen.”

“Old enough,” Thirty-Two answered back, as suddenly cold as they’d been hot. “And don’t presume familiarity with me, Hart. Our records indicate you could have been Awoken as early as seven months ago, yourself.”

I sobered up. For a moment, I’d misplaced this young-sounding woman with another teenager I was fond of. It may have been months now since we’d left Walter back in Hollow Hill, but I still remembered him fondly. But this girl wasn’t Walter.

She was, nominally, an enemy. No matter the fact she sounded as young as he was, I couldn’t let my guard down. That was beyond the fact that she knew who I was, and apparently had a file on me that included things like the date of my Awakening of all things. I wasn’t surprised she knew who I was, though. If my bare face during our confrontation hadn’t done it, then Rhiannon referring to me by my first name would have.

I took a deep breath. “What do you mean, Rhiannon has control over the city leadership?” I asked, suddenly much more professional.

I heard Thirty-Two draw in a deep breath, no doubt about to elaborate. But the conversation was interrupted once more by a sound echoing down the hallway.

The clack of hard heels snapping against stone, followed closely behind by the march of mailed feet.

I swear I heard Thirty-Two’s snap together, as they clammed up. Instead of the child commander’s voice, I heard another female voice ring out.

One I was starting to hate.

“Oh, don’t spoil the fun now, ‘Thirty-Two’,” I heard Rhiannon call out down the hall from our position. I tensed at the sound of it, causing the chains binding me to rattle somewhat. “I would be rather cross with you, if you ruined the big reveal.”

I could practically hear the sneer in Thirty-Two’s voice as they spoke again. “What do I care for your sick twisted ga-” They started, only to be interrupted by an odd splatting noise. Thirty-Two fell abruptly silent, although I thought I heard muffled grunts from them.

Moments later, I heard the clack of heels and marching of feet stop in between Dusk and I’s two cells. “Are you going to spoil my fun too, Liora?” I heard Rhiannon ask Dusk.

“You would just silence me if I tried,” I heard Dusk answer flatly. “And I don’t wish your disgusting blood to touch me, in the way it did Thirty-Two.”

Rhiannon hummed in amusement, seemingly unbothered by Dusk’s implied insult. “Good doggy,” She said condescendingly, before I heard her pivot on one foot. I think she was facing my cell, now. She didn’t speak for a moment, though. “Oh, will you two go in there and turn him around?” She finally said in exasperation, apparently to whoever she’d brought with her. As the door to my cell opened and two sets of mailed feet stepped inside, the noblewoman groused to herself. “Why even string him up? What’s wrong with the regular old manacle and chain? Honestly, militaries these days…”

Two pairs of gauntleted hands seized me by my dislocated shoulders and spun me around, but didn’t let me go. When I could see again, I noticed that the soldiers Rhiannon had brought with her were Solstice guys, and not Loyalists. I should have expected that, considering how I hadn’t seen them at the assault on the warehouse despite the apparent hate boner they had for us Eclipse members. They weren’t looking at me, instead standing off to my left and right staring forward stoically. Not that I could see their faces well, through their helmet. I followed their gaze.

Rhiannon was standing just outside the open gate of my cell, hands on her hips. She’d changed out of her black silk dress into a much sleeker-looking one, this time in a dark, dark red. Her long dark hair had been let down as well, letting it fall down in inky locks around her head. In the darkness of the cell block, I was startled to see her burgundy eyes glowing nearly crimson.

The woman breathed in slowly, closing her eyes. When she was done, they snapped back open. Rhiannon smiled at me. “Oh, Nathan,” She said, almost lovingly. She lay her right hand against her cheek and cupped it. “How odd it is, that our paths keep crossing this way. If I didn’t know better, I would say it was divine intervention.” She chuckled. “But…perhaps it is.”

I kept quiet for a moment, simply taking in the sight of her. A suspicion of my own about what Rhiannon could be had started growing inside of me, ever since I’d first heard the possibility that she wasn’t human. I’d noticed that fantastical monsters and creatures from the mythology of Earth had a tendency to pop up in Vereden, in one manner or another. But I’d never thought to ask Grey, or anyone else for that matter, if one particular kind existed. However, I couldn’t deny that it might be possible with the secret of what Clan Calonawr had within their ranks.

If Werewolves were a thing, then why couldn’t…

I gave voice to my thoughts. “Rhiannon…” I said slowly. “Are you…a Vampire?” I felt immediately foolish for voicing the suspicion, but…

The air in the cell block grew still. Almost unnaturally so. I swear I didn’t even hear breathing from the Solstice classers holding me.

Rhiannon blinked slowly at my question, before the smile on her face widened to show off her teeth.

A pair of long, pointy, pearly white fangs stood out prominently, where before I swore they had been normal.

Rhiannon winked one glowing crimson eye at me, as I closed my own in resignation.

Of fucking course Vampires were a thing.

<<Chapter 190 | Table of Contents | Chapter 192>>

Chapter 190 - Ursa

Without another word, Longstripe charged me.

I nearly died in the first few moments of the first exchange. Longstripe wasn’t bothering to hold back much at all. I think the only reason I was able to dodge his massive fist as it lanced out at my head was because my core ring had thrown my body into a dodge at the first hint of movement from the man. As it was, I only managed to duck under the fist by a literal hair's breadth. My hair was blown back from the sheer wind pressure of his might alone.

I didn’t manage to dodge the follow-up knee strike from him, though.

The force of the General's massive knee impacting my chest was strong enough that I felt myself get launched up and back, somehow tumbling through the air from the sheer power alone. I only barely retained enough presence of mind to try and lash out at him with my still-ignited spear tip, in the moments before I was blown backward. I don’t know if I hit him or not, because I was too busy slamming into the stone of the warehouse floor, my head bouncing off of the quarried rock painfully.

I think I would have died right then if not for the fact I had multiple streams of thought. While my outermost ring’s vision had whited out from the impact, my middle ring seized control this time and rolled me sideways. In the split second before I had hit the floor, it had seen how close my landing position was to the ring of observing, bloodthirsty soldiers.

To my side, I heard the sound of a sword clanging off the stone where I had just been laying, moments ago.

I staggered to my feet using my spear as a crutch and skipped drunkenly away from the circle’s edge as my vision started to come back into focus. As I did so, a spike of pain was intense enough to pierce through my dampening. I clutched my chest and grimaced, finding it suddenly more difficult to breathe.

I think Longstripe had fractured a few of my ribs with that one, single blow. Not enough that I was suddenly in danger of dying, but enough to hinder me. Not only that, but I’m pretty sure my head had been split open, at least a little. I could feel a slow trickle of blood oozing its way down the back of my neck, originating from my scalp.

I had to be more careful. In just one exchange, Longstripe had almost crippled me.

Almost absentmindedly, my core ring wondered why Longstripe hadn’t followed up on his blow while I was prone. He was certainly strong enough, ruthless enough, and pissed enough to have done so.

When my vision cleared enough to see again, I beheld the sight of Longstripe gazing down at the back of his left forearm. Carved into the back of it was a long, even gash, deep enough I could see bone showing through it. Even though it was a deep wound, considering his advanced level, it was barely oozing blood at all. Despite the severity of the wound, Longstripe didn’t seem alarmed by it. No, instead, he was looking down at it almost wonderingly.

“Would you look at that?” The General said interestedly, twisting his arm back and forth to get a better look at the gash. It was so deep, and so bloodless, that I could see individual muscle fibers contract with the movement. Longstripe clucked his tongue and shook his head. “That’s some Skill you have, murderer, that you can hurt me with it. I wonder how you got it?”

I didn’t bother with replying, despite how the sight of the cut caused my heart to leap in my chest. That just proved I could hurt the man, if only with The Scintillant Blade.

Instead, I just pointed my left hand at the man and cast another Skill.

Grasping Roots.

Thick crimson tree roots covered in barbs and thorns erupted from the floor of the warehouse to wrap around the General's legs, trying to dig into his flesh. They didn’t manage it, though, instead only grinding against the surface of his leg armor with a shriek that reminded me of nails on a chalkboard. Still, they’d done their job by at least wrapping around his legs.

I charged at him, never once having let go of Sylvan Vigor at full strength. Even with as used to the Skill as I’d gotten, and the stamina for its usage I’d built up, it was difficult to hold it at max power for so long. I hadn't let up on the enhancement ability once during the entire battle, and could feel fatigue trying to settle over me. Hopefully I could finish this soon, and it would be enough.

It wasn’t.

I’m not sure Longstripe even noticed the roots. He shrugged, finally tearing his gaze away from his arm to look at me. “I guess I’ll just tear the answer from your screaming, limb-less torso, cutthroat,” He said cruelly. He took a single step forward, tearing through the roots I’d conjured like they were so much wet tissue paper.

By that time, I had gotten into melee distance with the man. I aimed one palm underhand up at the man and launched another Poisonthorn Shot at his face. I know it couldn’t hurt him by this point, but I was at least hoping the poison could obstruct his vision. At the same time, I tried to skewer him with the brilliantly burning leaf-shaped blade of my spear.

That didn’t work either.

Longstripe didn’t even flinch at the thorn shot at his face, he just tilted his head to the side slightly and let it pass him by harmlessly. But he was, seemingly, properly wary of the blade of my spear.

I just…wasn’t fast enough to actually hit him with it.

Longstripe batted my spear away from his vital organs before it could pierce him with the back of one fist, nearly wrenching the weapon out of my hands. I had to rapidly maneuver the haft of my Oninite spear between my body and his fist, in the microsecond it took before it could impact me.

The length of Kawamaran metal visibly flexed under the force of the blow.

Still.

That didn’t save me.

I didn’t even see his other hand coming, until it was too late.

In a split second, Longstripe’s massive ursine hand had closed around my throat. He squeezed down hard enough that my airways almost completely shuttered. I instinctively gasped and tried to struggle against his grip, but nothing I did mattered. I just wasn’t strong enough to break his grasp.

The onlooking Loyalist soldiers cheered at the sight of me hanging in midair, suspended in the grasp of their leader.

Meanwhile, Longstripe had ripped my spear out of my hands in order to cast a critical eye over it. He whistled at the sight. “Not bad, I have to say,” He said, almost admiringly. “This is a quality weapon if it can take a punch from me and not break. I suppose the puppets of insurrectionists are granted powerful weapons, these days. But, I’ll be sure to gift it to someone more worthy than you, murderer. You won’t need it, after all, once I tear you limb from limb.”

Somehow, I managed to draw enough breath in order to chuckle painfully at Longstripe. He blinked at me, a little taken aback. “Oh? Is some amusing, cutthroat?”

“Two…things…” I rasped painfully, barely able to breathe. Assured of his victory, Longstripe seemed confident enough to loosen his grasp, if only slightly. I used the chance to fill my lungs with a gasp before chuckling again and smirking at the General. “It doesn’t matter…if you won. I already accomplished…my goal. Look…around.”

Longstripe flicked his eyes up to look beyond the circle of soldiers. As I’d expected, the fighting outside of our little confrontation was completely finished. There were no more Nocturne Agents in the crumbling warehouse for him or his men to try and cull. My comrades had taken the opening I’d given them for escape and lived to fight another day.

Even Sylvia was gone. Whether that meant she’d truly fled the battle, or was just hanging around under an illusionary cloak, I had no way to know. But despite everything, I truly wished she had gone.

At the very least, one of us could survive this.

Longstripe actually chuckled then, shaking his head ruefully. “Ah…I see,” He said knowingly, looking down at me. “Tell me, murderer, was any of what you said even truthful? Or was this all just a diversion, so your rats could flee this sinking ship?”

I shrugged as much as I was able. “Some,” I admitted. But I didn’t elaborate any further.

That seemed to be enough for Longstripe, though. “Hmm, well. It doesn’t matter,” He said decisively. “We’ll mop up the rest of them later. But you…whether you are who you say you are, and even if you didn’t kill as many of my men as you said you did. You’re still a traitor, and traitors all meet the same end. I have a threat to carry out, after all.” Having said that, Longstripe reached out and grasped my golden left arm, still concealed under its elbow-length leather glove. His grip tightened on it, only for his brow to furrow in confusion when it didn’t give like flesh would. Curious, he changed his hold in order to rip off the glove I had on.

In moments, my golden arm was revealed to the world.

Confused mutters erupted from the onlookers, as General Longstripe was visibly astonished for the first time since I’d first laid eyes on him.

“Is he…a Sculpted?” I heard one baffled soldier ask, to uncertain mutters from his companions.

“What the hells is this?” Longstripe said, bewildered. “What did you do to yourself, cutthroat? Don’t tell me…” He suddenly started chuckling, almost unprompted. “D-did you…did you replace one of your hands with a Sculpted one?!” He started howling in laughter then, in earnest. “It’s almost poetic! The Sculpted sympathizing rebel, sympathizing so hard he becomes part automaton! The sheer audacity!”

For the first time since he’d grabbed hold of me, the General took his eyes off me and threw his head back.

And laughed.

Confusion chuckles emerged from the throats of the onlookers, as they imitated their leader. But…

This was my chance.

Now.

Ealier, when I’d sheathed my second dagger, I hadn’t put it into its usual left sheathe. From the beginning, I’d been planning on just this gambit. Well, not specifically one where I was held by the throat, but certainly one where I was close enough, and Longstripe was incautious enough, to take his eyes away from me.

Because I’d put that dagger in the right sheathe, and…

He was holding my left arm.

In as smooth of a motion as I could manage, I unsheathed that dagger, ignited it in the roiling rainbow flames of The Scintillant Blade…

And rammed it into his guts at an angle.

Longstripe’s laughing abruptly stopped, as the man slowly lowered his head to where he was looking back down at me. He stared into my eyes in incomprehension for a moment, before staring down at the blade in his belly. His grip on my throat lightened, but not enough to release me.

Enough for me to lean and say something to the man, though. “You were saying how good my weapons were?” I hissed to the General. “Well, let me show you what they’re good for.”

Without another word, I depressed the activation rune on my dagger, still buried up to the hilt in his gullet.

Immediately, it exploded to its full length, piercing straight through him and erupting out of his back in an explosion of gore. Behind him, I could see the fiery rainbow head of my spear glowing like a meteor over his shoulder. Longstripe choked, staring at me disbelievingly before he slumped to his knees with me still in his grasp. Feeling my chance, I tried to struggle away from him, but…

For some reason, his grip remained strong.

Longstripe looked over his shoulder for a moment at the spear jutting out of his back, before turning to face me. He chuckled painfully, reaching up to grab my skull with both of his hands. I struggled, but couldn’t get away as he spoke. “Almost,” He rasped in agony. “Almost…but not quite, cutthroat.”

The last thing I saw was Longstripe’s skull rocketing towards mine in a headbutt.

Before the world went dark.

…………………………..

AN 2:

Cast your minds all the way back to Book 1, and how Azarus wasn’t very phased to have been stabbed by Nate.

There you’ll have your answer as to why Nate’s last attack didn’t instantly kill Atticus.

Still, it was a good try. As he said.

Almost.

<<Chapter 189 | Table of Contents | Chapter 191>>

Chapter 189 - Unmasked

I didn’t see an easy way out of this.

Hell, I’m not sure there was a way out of this.

While the majority of my attention was focused on grimly fighting to my last breath, my core ring was sparring a thought to what we could possibly do to get out of this. A smaller, more cowardly part of me was wondering if I could just…run.

Abandon everyone I’d gotten to know in the Nocturne Division, grab Sylvia, and turn my tail over her protests.

And. Just. Run.

It…might be possible.

In the chaos of the battle, would the gathered Loyalist forces really notice two people making a break for it? Especially if we discarded our masks and our Order armor? At that point, we could do our best to either hide out in the city, or maybe even flee over into Tlatec. Maybe we could find refuge in Tlazo’s laboratory, while we waited for the Uprising to come and lay siege to the city. Surely he'd extend refuge to the daughter of an old friend.

I think Grey would forgive me for making the practical decision to save his daughter’s life. Even if it meant abandoning my comrades to die in this fish stinking, blood-soaked warehouse, my mentor struck me as a utilitarian man. Considering his history, surely he would accept the grim calculus of weighing his daughter's life as more than that of the Nocturne Division.

But I…

I…

I…didn’t want to be that man.

I didn’t want to be the person who cut and run at the first sign of true adversity in war. I didn’t want to be the man who was remembered as the coward who fled the last stand of the Nocturne Division, of the Order of the Eclipsed Dawn.

As I used a wide swing of my left spear to make room for myself in the melee, I considered it.

Death.

I think, for the first real time since I’d dipped my toes in this war, I considered what it meant for me to really, truly die. While this was far from my first combat engagement, or even my first large-scale one, I’d never really considered my own mortality. That was a laughable thing to realize, taking into account the number of deadly encounters I’d been involved in. But it was true.

I don’t think I’d ever confronted the possibility seriously. I’d…always had someone, or something to fall back on that tipped the scales. Whether that was the presence of those much more powerful than I, or if it was the ludicrousness of my own Precursor abilities, I had never seriously thought I was about to really, truly die in battle.

I was…strangely okay with it. Maybe it was just the adrenaline coursing through my veins, being enhanced by the abilities of my core ring. But I don’t think I was terribly frightened by the possibility.

I was finding that there were more important things than my own life.

It was a bit odd.

And now it was looking more and more possible, as members of the Nocturne Division began to fall all around me. We were being overwhelmed from the sheer number of Loyalist soldiers being fielded against us. While one-to-one I would bet on a Nocturne Agent any day of the week, I wasn’t sure about near ten-to-one odds. I…even knew some of them.

Jangle, the Agent that had been supporting Sylvia, had been caught by surprise by a questing arrow. The normally jovial man was speared by its barbed tip straight in the jugular, and there was nothing anyone could do to save him. Not before he bled out.

Spike, another member I knew and had even played a few card games with, had been nearly bisected by the greatsword of a Loyalist heavy soldier. Somehow, I’d caught his eye as he bled to death, from across the battlefield. I’d seen the last spark of life leave him through the eye holes in his mask.

I’d even caught a glimpse of the whip-wielding female Agent I didn’t know being dogpiled by a group of nearly a dozen soldiers. I’d heard her screams as they held her down and skewered her with a barrage of spear thrusts.

I’d heard those same screams come to an abrupt end, as well.

However, none of those Loyalist soldiers could compare to the might of General Longstripe. The man had seemed to realize there was nobody else among us that could possibly challenge him, but that didn’t stop his advance through our ranks. It just meant that he was taking the time to really enjoy himself now.

Longstripe was almost leisurely strolling through the chaos of the battlefield, and directly challenging the Nocturne Agents he came across. He was followed around by a group of sycophants who were hemming in those unfortunate enough to catch his gaze. His posse would encircle my erstwhile comrade, and force them to confront the General in a one-sided duel to their death.

With such a massive gulf in power between them, none of the challenged Agents lasted very long. He’d already gone through three separate Nocturnes, in this way.

This was nothing more than sport for him now. It was only a matter of time before he singled me out. There just weren't that many of us left.

I felt my face harden, behind my mask.

Well, there was no need to draw this out then, was there?

After the death of Jangle, Sylvia had sought me out so she could have a partner to fight with. We’d been back-to-back for a while now. With the idea of a plan growing in me, I swept out wide with both of my rainbow-glowing spears in an almost complete circle. In a split second, I noticed that nearly all of the Loyalist forces that had been collected for the assault on the warehouse district seemed to have gathered inside this one. Even the archers Serpent had told me about seemed to have migrated to vantage points so they could fire inside the warehouse. I couldn’t see much, if any remaining Loyalist squads outside of either the doors or the holes in the walls. Good.

That suited my idea perfectly.

With enough space cleared and only seconds to spare, I spun in a circle to face Sylvia. She was covered in blood from the endless melee, likely from both Loyalist and our own comrades. Alarmed, she looked at me in tired confusion, which only grew when I ripped off my mask and tilted hers up. Before she could say anything, I leaned in for a quick kiss.

When I pulled back, I smiled at her, at peace with my next move. “When you get the chance, run, okay?” I said quickly, lancing out at a Loyalist that was running at Sylvia’s exposed back. He skipped back to avoid my weapon, but it had done its job. In the confusion, I quickly slipped the map I had grabbed earlier out from inside my breastplate and slid into Sylvia’s, to her exhausted bewilderment.

“Nathan, what…?” She tried to say, forgetting my codename. I shook my head, though, not answering. She might try to stop me, if I explained myself

I may not want to run from this fight, but I didn’t begrudge anyone else.

In fact, I was counting on that. Hell, for all I knew, there were other Agents that had already made a run for it.

My face exposed to the air, I turned to face the circle where Longstripe had just finished up executing another Nocturne. He seemed to be fond of exploding heads, as he was cleaning brain off of his maul from his latest victim.

I narrowed my eyes in his direction before I broke out into a run.

Straight at him.

Sprinting through the chaos and the hordes of Loyalist soldiers, I collapsed my left spear and momentarily sheathed it, dodging blades all the while. When I reached the dueling circle, I slammed the butt of my remaining spear into the stone of the warehouse floor and used it to pole-vault straight into the air. Midflight, I stretched out a hand and caste a Poisonthorn Shot directly at the General already tracking me with his eyes. Almost contemptuously, he reached up and swatted the corrosive thorn out of midair with the back of one hand. It tumbled through the air, while the poison sizzled on the back of his bare hands uselessly.

I don’t think it was even burning the hairs on the back of that fist.

That was fine, though. It had done its job.

I just wanted his attention.

Once I touched down inside the circle of jeering, confused soldiers, I stood up to my full height and slammed the butt of my spear into the stone below once more. It cracked under the force of my strength, still reinforced with Sylvan Vigor. I took a deep breath, expanding my chest to its fullest.

And bellowed.

“ATTICUS LONGSTRIPE!” I screamed into the chaos of the battlefield, my voice echoing off of the crumbling walls of our once hidden warehouse headquarters. “I, NATHANIEL HART, APPRENTICE OF GRAND MARSHALL GREYCTON OF HOLLOW HILL, CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!”

As the soldiers around me quieted, taking in my words, I heard the fighting outside of the Loyalist circle slow, if only slightly.

It was the reaction from the General across the blood-stained stone from me, though, that I was most interested in.

Thankfully, he took the bait.

His pitiless black eyes lit up in sudden interest, as he took in my proudly standing form. His eyes raked over me, from my blood soaked Order armor to the spear clutched tightly in my fist, and finally resting on my unmasked face. I felt the tell-tale sign on the back of my neck as many people suddenly used Observe on me. However, with my Status hidden through my racials, they would only see what I wanted them to.

And that included my name. But not much else.

Longstripe stroked his chin, leaving streaks of blood on it from the gore that had dripped from his weapon to coat it. “Oh?” He mused mockingly. “One of the Uprising cutthroats dares to bare his face before me? And he’s one of Greycton’s personal lapdogs at that. Well, well, well.”

I smiled sharply at the mountain of a man across from me, as the circle of Loyalists watched the confrontation with baited breath. To my satisfaction, I saw that more and more of the Loyalist forces in the warehouse were gathering to gawk. I wasn’t just any faceless blade in the dark, after all.

I was directly connected to the most famous face in the Uprising, and one of the most legendary figures in Herztal alive today.

“Cutthroat is right,” I said, mockingly. “Do you have any idea how many of your men I’ve personally killed, over the last week? I’m not sure even I can count the number of soldiers I’ve ambushed and butchered.”

It was about three in fact, and butchered was a wild exaggeration. I liked to consider myself more methodical than that.

But my taunt had the desired effect.

The amused twist to Longstripe’s lips died, as a snarl started to grow on his ursine features. He wasn’t the only one to be displeased by my boast, either. Jeers and shouts of hatred erupted from the onlookers, as some of them jabbed out at me from the circle. One of them even connected, and I felt a spear graze my left arm. It found a weak point in my already over-stressed armor, and carved a bloody line down it before it retreated.

I didn’t flinch or even acknowledge the blow, though. Not with my pain sensors as suppressed as they were. Instead, I just kept my eyes fixed on Longstripe.

See, I think I had a read on this man, both from my own observations, and from the small file we had back down in the basement.

Longstripe was one of the rare few Herztalian high officers who actually cared about his soldiers. He famously tried to attend the funeral of every soldier who ever served under him. He drank and ate with them in lieu of sequestering himself in his own personal quarters. He fought on the frontlines, instead of hiding behind them.

And he was fiercely, fiercely loyal to the Crown of Herztal.

This was a man that was likely infuriated by the random assassinations of his soldiers, that had been happening on the streets of Elderwyck.

Longstripe’s grip on his maul tightened, the steel of the haft creaking from the force. “Is that so,” He said dangerously. The air started to become heavy from the force of the Ki he was emitting.

I didn’t let up.

“Oh yes,” I said maliciously, playing it up. Not too much, though. I didn’t want to come off as an unbelievable, cackling villain, or else attention would be stolen away from my show and back on the Agents I could see taking the chance to flee.

I was happy they could see my sacrifice for what it was.

“In fact, I’d say I’m the main person that’s been doing it,” I said with a smirk. “There hasn’t been a moment I haven’t been out on the streets, hunting your men. Not since I stepped foot in Elderwyck. It’s all been me, Longstripe. After all, this bloodshed was what my master wanted, sending me here.”

Longstripe’s expression passed from rage, into a much more ominous flatness. His bloodlust was still palpable, though, as the shouts and insults from the crowd only grew louder. I was painting myself as the boogeyman that had been haunting them, after all. I was the monster they’d glanced over their shoulders in fear of.

Letting out a breath so heavy I swear I saw steam mixed in, Longstripe surprisingly handed his maul off to another nearby soldier. They staggered under the weight of the massive hunk of metal, requiring help from another watcher. Meanwhile, the General cracked his head side to side, and then slowly started to do the same to his knuckles, one by one.

“I’m not going to kill you, boy,” He said, almost conversationally. “Instead, I’m going to beat you only mostly to death, by breaking every bone in your body. Then, I’m going to tear off your limbs, and when we finally crush Greycton’s little Uprising, I’ll throw your beaten, broken, moaning body at his feet and laugh. And I’ll do that all with my bare hands.”

“C’mon then,” I said mockingly, getting to a stance with only one spear, as the General brought his fists up.

“If you think you’re hard enough.”

<<Chapter 188 | Table of Contents | Chapter 190>>

Chapter 188 - Last Stand

Some of the soldiers reacted with visceral shock at the sudden attack against one of their own, while some had the foresight to try and find cover. Still some others immediately tried to trace the path of my attack back up to me, with different levels of results.

It didn’t really matter.

I wasn’t alone in here, after all.

At nearly the same time that I took out the first soldier, a hail of other attacks rained down upon the insufficiently cautious soldiery. Arrows, thrown blades, and energy and elemental attacks from the wide variety of powerful Agents that the Nocturne Division could field. While there were only a few truly elite classers among us that could stand toe to toe with someone like General Longstripe, in general we were a cut above the rest.

It showed.

In moments, nearly a third of the Loyalist soldiers that had invaded our base had been slaughtered. Seeing such rampant death, a number of them immediately broke and tried to flee back through the doors that they had broken. We did our best to prevent them from making out, even if it was obvious that the garrison forces had to know they’d found the right warehouse.

The screams of the dying had to clue them in.

I had never stopped drawing arrows, infusing them with Grinding Crimson Sunder, and then loosing them upon the Loyalists. Arrow after arrow leapt from my borrowed bow, some finding their mark, some not. I wasn’t quite a master archer at this point, and this was the first time I was using a bow in active combat. Some of my shots hit their target, and some didn’t. Even then, not every arrow I landed was a killing blow.

But they always at least managed to wound or maim.

I coldly watched as my latest arrow neatly took off the leg of one soldier trying to flee out the door. I didn’t see what happened to him after that, as he tumbled through the shrapnel of the shattered door, screaming and bleeding.

Things couldn’t remain this way forever, though. While the general soldiery weren’t quite as powerful as we were, they did have one thing going for them that was a staple of their profession.

Discipline.

The surviving troops below us rallied together, forming a dome of shields both physical, and Skill or spell based. They huddled together under their combined defensive front, surrounded by the dead or dying, and began to try and strike back. Attacks of their own began to lash out from their position, aimed widely at all areas of the warehouse that they suspected we were attacking from. Some of them were aimed correctly, forcing some of my comrades to abandon their stealthed positions and dive out the way, but from what I could see, none of us were hit.

I myself had to dive out of the way of one conjured and thrown rock the size of my head as it impacted the beam I was crouched upon. Thrown out my golden hand, I conjured a Thorn Grapple that shot out and attached to the roof. I used it to swing away from the collapsing timber and land on another one. As I landed, I felt an impact on my back that caused me to stumble and nearly fall from my new vantage point. Reaching behind me, I yanked out an arrow that my still active Thorn Cloak had managed to stop in place.

I grimaced at the sight of it, but something else drew my attention before I could go back to my sniping.

Movement from the door.

Advancing into the warehouse was a large cohort of Loyalist soldiers, protected by a domed bubble shield being projected by a pair of dedicated casters. I, along with a number of other Agents immediately tried to bombard the second dome with attacks.

It didn’t work. The shield was too strong.

We couldn’t do anything to stop them before they linked up with the surviving force. Supported by the reinforcements, their shield was even stronger now.

I let out a breath at the sight of it. There was no way any of us were going to get through that now. I guess the easy part of this was over.

Now we had to get up close and personal with the Loyalists. That struck me as just fine.

I was more of a melee specialist, anyway.

Two more Agents appeared next to me on my vantage point, as I slung my bow over my shoulder. As I drew my daggers instead, I saw one of my comrades draw a long, curved blade, and the other a whip of all things. We nodded at each other.

We knew what we had to do. The people maintaining those shields had to go.

That shield…it may stop Skills, spells and arts. But…

It wouldn’t stop people.

This beam was almost directly overhead of the shield Loyalists, so the three of us simply stepped off the timber.

And dove, weapons first.

In the split second before we passed the membrane, I saw that we weren’t the only Agents to come to the same conclusion on the next phase of the fight. A number of the others dove out of the shadows in lunging blows to crash into the defending Loyalists. I actually saw Jangle and Sylvia working in tandem to drag or lure soldiers from the safety of the dome, using either his chain daggers or her illusions.

But I had my own targets to worry about.

One of the casters maintaining the shield somehow thought to look up in the split second before I crashed into him, daggers poised like the jaws of a serpent. I saw his eyes widen briefly in panic, but it was too late.

My right Oninite dagger found his throat, while my left his heart. The weight of my impact drove the two of us to the floor, as I used his dying body as a cushion to slide my way to a stop, right in the middle of the Loyalist forces. Instantly, I activated Sylvan Vigor at full strength, and sprang upwards using my hands, ripping my daggers from the corpse of the caster as I did so in a spray of blood. Good thing I did, because I saw several Loyalist blades sink into the body of the caster I’d just assassinated below me, right where I’d just been.

If he hadn’t been dead before, he sure as hell was now.

I saw that one of the other Agents that had dove with me had been successful in taking out the other dedicated shield specialist, but not the other. She’d sawed his head straight off with her serrated whip, but the other Agent hadn’t been so lucky. Unfortunately, in the same freeze frame I saw the whip Agent, I saw my other Agent skewered on the end of several Loyalist blades.

He might have been our first casualty in this fight. Not…unexpected, from how risky this maneuver had been. But a loss, nonetheless

I grimaced, but threw out a hand and cast another Thorn Grapple blindly overhead to get me out of this mess.

I’d done my job.

I just barely missed getting skewered by a questing Loyalist spear, but didn’t manage to escape the blade completely. I felt it carve a bloody line along my left calf as I rapidly ascended away from the Loyalist position. Thankfully, I didn’t feel it too much in the depths of my battle trance.

With the shield weakened and flickering from losing the main casters maintaining it, the barrage from those Agents still in firing positions resumed.

We didn’t get to enjoy it for long.

The right most wall of the warehouse exploded outwards, sending debris flying across the length and breadth of our besieged base. I nearly fell off my vantage point from how the entire building shook from the blow. Below me, I saw huge chunks of masonry and timber shoot across the space underneath, skipping along both the floor and the flickering dome of the Loyalist soldiers. My breath caught in my throat when I saw one of the Agents who had descended into the melee get skewered by a length of jagged length of support beam, soaring across the hall to get pinned to the far wall.

The fighting paused for a moment, as everyone directed their eyes to the newest breech in the warehouse.

Striding through the smoke and debris cloud was the person we were all fearing to see.

General Atticus Longstripe.

The man had his massive flanged mace hoisted over one of his shoulders, as he surveilled the battlefield in an instant with a scowl under his massive mustache. After a moment of silence as the battlefield held its collective breath from the weight of his presence, the huge man abruptly thrust his weapon into the air. “NO QUARTER!” He bellowed, his voice echoing to all corners of the warehouse. “DEATH TO ALL COWARDS!”

The Loyalist forces cheered, emboldened by the sight of their leader. But more importantly, they were immediately reinforced by a massive force that streamed in from the hole he had created, flooding the battlefield. These new forces began to take wild shots at every space of the warehouse they could see, filling it with holes in the walls and ceilings. More than a few support beams and struts were taken out by these both the attacks of the new arrivals, and the inspired forces we’d already been fighting.

The warehouse began to creak ominously.

It wasn’t safe to stay up here anymore. It wasn’t safe to hide anywhere in here.

Unfortunately, that meant the time for stealth was over. It was time to join in with my comrades on the floor, locked in a pitched melee.

I dove over the side of the beam, extending both of my daggers at once into their short spear forms. As I did so, I activated The Scintillant Blade on both of them.

I pinned one soldier to the ground with my left spear, while simultaneously lashing out at another with my right. The blade of my enhanced weapon cut through his gorget like a knife through butter, as I stood up and yanked my other armament from the corpse of the soldier who had broken my fall. As I did so, I got into the odd combat stance I’d patched together for just this occasion, spears held under each arm and splayed out, pointed downwards.

Time to see if this combat style was actually effective. Azarus had helped me workshop it, all the way back in Helstein, but I’d never had the opportunity to try it before now. He’d thought it was an incredibly odd thing, but said it was theoretically possible with Dexterity as high as mine.

I shook off the pang that the thought of my dwarven friend elicited deep in my rings, focusing on the battle instead.

Out of the corner of my eye, I was able to see through the masses of soldiers towards where the General had been. I wasn’t surprised to find that Serpent had made his move on the other man, and was now locked in combat with Longstripe, barraging him with relentless blows from his twin longswords. Unfortunately, the General was more than capable of keeping up with Serpent’s blinding speed, lashing out at every opportunity and blasting holes in the surrounding area with destructive Skills. Serpent was able to dodge these, if only barely, but even I could tell that he was outmatched. I could only hope the senior Agent was able to pull off a miracle. I took a deep breath and readied myself.

Time to see if Azarus was right about my own dual-wielding style.

I got to work.

This style was a great deal more agile than my usual one. It involved a great deal more sweeps and twirls using both of the extended spears than a usual spear style. There were still plenty of stabs and jabs involved, but for the most part, I was creating a zone that I controlled, using the length my weapons provided.

It was turning out to be pretty effective.

Sure, more than one enemy soldier thought to try and get in close to me. After all, a weakness of using long weapons was that it was harder to deal with enemies when they got in close. And that would have worked, too, on anyone else.

Not me.

When someone tried to duck and get in up and close and personal, I just retracted the spears and used their own tactic against them. Suddenly finding two blindingly fast daggers closing in on your jugular, when only moments before they were spears, had to be a nasty shock.

Too bad.

I just re-extended my spears once I’d dealt with people who thought they were being clever.

In flashes between opponents and fending off groups of soldiers trying to dogpile me, I occasionally caught glimpses of Serpent's own fight with General Longstripe. It was during one of these flashes that I saw something that caused my stomach to drop.

With a bellowing roar of victory, Longstripe brought his massive mace down upon the head of Serpent in an unbelievably powerful blow. The head of the senior Agent exploded into a cloud of gore, as his body slumped to the floor of the warehouse, dead in an instant.

I couldn’t help closing my eyes briefly in despair, as the Loyalist soldiers cheered on their leader for winning his duel. Longstripe himself brought his mace overhead once more in both hands and screamed into the air of the warehouse. “DEATH!” He howled.

We were truly doomed, then. All we could do now was stave off the inevitable, before Longstripe did the same thing to all of us.

I steeled myself for a battle to the death, and readied my weapons once more.

We all had to die someday, I suppose.

<<Chapter 187 | Table of Contents | Chapter 189>>

Chapter 187 - Surrounded

It wasn’t looking good.

I crouched on one of the upper rafters of the dockside warehouse base, accompanied by another Nocturne Agent who went by Jangle. I was peering through one of the concealed watchpoints we had cut into the side of the building. And what I was seeing didn’t bode well.

It looked like nearly the entire Loyalist garrison of Elderwyck was assembling in the streets outside. Accompanying them were more than a few members of the Guard. There must have been hundreds of them out there. It was like an entire military operation was underway at the docks.

Right now, they were going door to door to all of the warehouses in the area and thoroughly searching each one before moving on. They hadn’t reached our hiding place yet, but they clearly knew that we were out here.

It was only a matter of time before they found us.

And then we were fucked.

“How many are there?” Jangle asked me, in a low voice.

I shook my head minutely. “I stopped counting after three hundred,” I admitted quietly.

Jangle sighed, and then let his head thunk against a nearby wooden beam. “How did this happen? Why didn’t our contacts in the Guard tell us the Loyalists were coming?”

I turned away from my surveillance post long enough to give Jangle a bleak look. Even though I had my mask back on, he could probably tell from my body language alone. “Maybe they couldn’t. Maybe they’re already dead,” I answered darkly. “If that’s not nearly the whole garrison out there, I’ll eat my dagger.” I abruptly shook my head. “Go tell Serpent what’s going on,” I said, referencing the most senior Agent currently in the warehouse with Hook gone. “We need to decide what we’re doing now. We don’t have long before they’re here.”

Jangle nodded abruptly, before sliding off the beam we were crouching on. In moments, he had dropped out of sight. Meanwhile, I turned back around to continue my reconnaissance. Before Jangle had interrupted me, I thought I’d seen something. I refocused, looking for it. It only took me a moment.

After all, they were carrying a big, fuck-off flag with them.

The Loyalist military forces were carrying a huge banner, proudly flying the mountain and valley of Herztal. Beneath it, I could see what looked to be a mobile command force, compromised of more than a few officers on horses. Messengers from the search force were constantly running to and from them, carrying out orders and whatever they were finding out there. In the middle of those officers was who I was suspecting was behind this all.

He was a large man, not at all soft or foolish-looking like most of the Herztalian nobility or officer corps seemed to be. I could just barely make out the impressively large mustache on his square-jawed face, crowned with an open-faced helmet. A long, crimson feather poked from the crest of that helmet, lengthy enough that its tip brushed the handle of the two-handed mace on his back.

This, I believe, was General Atticus Longstripe of the Herztalian 4th regiment. The commander of all the Loyalist forces in Elderwyck.

He was supposed to be a pretty strong guy, with a reported level somewhere in the four-hundreds. I’m not even sure why he was bothering with all his soldiers on this search. He might be strong enough alone to take us all out on his own. As far as I knew, there were only a few people in the entire Division who were strong enough to take him on. Serpent maybe, as well as Sparrow, sadly still out in the countryside somewhere. Hook could, no doubt.

But he wasn’t here.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and used my middle ring to calm my nerves. When I opened them again, I nearly had a heart attack at what I found.

Longstripe was looking in my direction.

I nearly panic-slammed the board down on my surveillance post, before I realized he wasn’t looking directly at me. Instead, he was just looking in my general direction. In other words, at the warehouse.

I saw him lift one hand and point a finger in our direction, before one of his messengers ran off to the search force.

Shit.

I eased the board down and then slipped off the beam like Jangle had done. I fell rapidly, impacting the floor in moments in a crouch. Thanks to how much I’d grown recently, I barely felt the impact at all, immediately standing up and sprinting further into the warehouse.

In our command center built into the basement, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Everyone was aware enough to realize what the force outside meant, and our chances against it. I ignored them, making a beeline for the command table. There, Serpent was being attended by a masked Sylvia and number of other senior Agents. Everyone huddled around the local map of the area on the table looked up at my approach.

I didn’t waste any time. “They’re coming,” I said bluntly, causing another Agent to curse. “There’s more. I believe General Longstripe is with them.”

Conversation both around the table and in the surroundings went quiet. I swear I saw Serpent’s eyes briefly shutter close behind the slit eye holes of his mask. The tall, thin man sighed. “Composition?” He asked shortly.

“Maybe eighty percent Loyalist, twenty percent Guard,” I replied.

A small measure of tension escaped the senior Agent. “Nothing from Tlatec?”

My brow furrowed behind my mask. Tlatec? What the hell did they have to do with this? Still, I answered the question. “No, nothing. Just humans out there. Serpent, if we’re going, we need to go now. I saw the search party moving our way before I left.”

Serpent shook his head. “We can’t leave,” He said, to accompanying grim nods from everyone else. “You might not have seen them, but other observers reported snipers on the roofs. If we try and flee that direction, we’ll be pin-cushioned. Captain Isabella isn’t in port right now, either. And there are too many soldiers on the streets.”

“In other words we can’t escape by the roof, we can’t escape by the back alleys, and we can’t escape by sea,” Another Agent picked up.

Sylvia let out a slow breath. “And so we have to fight.”

The table descended into silence once more, as everyone absorbed that fact.

“Any word from Hook?” I asked quietly, breaking the silence.

Serpent shook his head. “No, not yet. We alerted Headquarters about the assault, and he took his two-way messaging coin with him to the meeting with SED,” He nodded to the empty messaging station in the corner of the room. “So they have to have informed him of the situation. But…nothing so far.”

“Maybe he’s on his way,” Jangle interjected hopefully

Another senior Agent snorted. “Or maybe the bastards turned on him, and this was their idea,” He muttered darkly, accompanied by agreeing mutters from other Agents in the room.

No love lost between SED and the Nocturne Division, I see.

“Or maybe…” I said slowly, drawing attention. “They’re getting hit as well. After all, SED seems to have split from the Loyalist cause.”

Serpent abruptly sighed and slashed his hand, cutting the conversation short. “Enough,” He said tiredly. “Enough. This is useless speculation. The fact of the matter is, Hook isn’t here to help right now. It’s up to us to either fight them off, or find another way to escape. But…it’s looking like we’ll have to fight.”

Sylvia raised her head slightly. “Could we perhaps hide, if I layered enough illusions on the basement? Or perhaps…turn this into a siege?”

“No, and no,” Serpent said, shaking his head. “No offense, Whisper, but you’re too low-level. Anything you put up isn’t going to be strong enough to fool the search party, much less the General. And if we try and turn this into a siege…”

“He’ll just blow through it anyway,” I said grimly.

Serpent nodded at me. “And so, we fight.”

“There are barely forty of us,” One Agent interjected, a note of nervousness in their voice. “We’re outnumbered nearly seven to one. What can we do against such an overwhelming force?”

“Our best, I suppose,” I said lowly.

Those words hung heavy in the air for a moment, before another Agent abruptly sighed loudly. “Well, it was nice knowing you guys,” He said bleakly.

Gallows chuckles sounded through the room, before something abruptly cut them off.

The sound of banging on the front door of the warehouse, as the search party found it locked and barred.

In the resulting silence, Serpent cast his gaze around the sea of watching masks gathered in the room, myself among them. “Ready yourselves,” He said firmly. “Take your positions outside, and give them hell. I’ll do my best against the General, when the time comes.”

As the gathered Agents of the Nocturne Division slowly trickled out of the command center and into the warehouse proper, Sylvia lingered. Her hand brushed mine, as our eyes met. "Don't die," She whispered, before ghosting out of the basement to join the others. She disappeared from my sight at the top of the stairs in a shower of silver sparks, falling into an illusion.

I shook my head with a wry smile. 'Don't die', huh.

Well, as you command.

Before I left the basement myself, I took a brief look around for something specific. I didn't want to lose the item that might be considered the instigator to this entire chain of events.

The map of the palace, that Rhiannon had 'gifted' me.

I found it on the command desk I'd just been standing around, buried under a pile of other documents. I rapidly folded it up, and shoved it behind the breastplate of my full Order armor. Once I was done, I exited the basement myself.

When I reached the main floor of the warehouse, I found it mostly deserted. Which made sense, after all. The Agents of the Nocturne Division mostly fought from the shadows. I had no doubt that everyone was going to do their best to strike and kill from stealth.

It’s what we did best.

The banging on the door of the warehouse had only grown in intensity, and the doors were starting to crack from the force of the blows. Outside of them, I could hear it as more and more armored boots arrived to assist in break them down.

It was time to get in position.

I aimed a hand above me and threw out a Thorn Grapple. It caught on one of the wooden support beams above, reeling me in to land in a crouch. As I did so, I activated Thorn Cloak as well. Feeling the almost comforting weight of my Skill settle on my shoulders, I drew something I’d picked up earlier, after the fight with the SED operatives.

Wisps bow.

Crook had left it behind in her rush to get the injured woman to a Healer, and so I’d grabbed it, hoping to return it later. But Wisp wasn’t here right now, and I could use a ranged weapon. It was a short bow, which suited my needs just fine. Made of a dark, nearly black wood with brass fittings, it was a recurve and nearly thrummed with crafted Mana. This was a weapon that was nearly too strong for me to use.

Nearly.

I had no idea Wisp was so strong, to handle this monster.

Testing the string and nodding in satisfaction, I drew one of the arrows from the quiver I’d grabbed earlier.

Just in time, too.

The doors of the warehouse finally buckled and broke under the force of the blows on them, sending splinters shooting into the warehouse in a storm of shrapnel. Good thing nobody was down there, or else they would have been torn to shreds. A cloud of smoke and dust hung in front of the entrance from the near explosion.

I breathed out slowly, feeling my emotions leave me with my breath. It almost felt like I grew colder, as I entered into my battle trance.

Moments later, cautious mailed feet edged their way into the warehouse, as the search team emerged from the cloud. They were accompanied by a number of different soldiers this time, in a departure from what I had seen earlier.

I suppose they’d figured out this was the right warehouse.

I eyed them calmly from my position above, as more and more soldiers began to stream inside.

Not yet. There weren’t enough targets in our sights, just yet. It wasn’t time to close the jaws of our trap. It seemed like my comrades agreed with me, as none of the Loyalists had died.

So far.

However, by the time enough of the soldiers had entered the warehouse to notice the entrance to the basement command center, I knew our opportunity had come. We only had so long before they started to thoroughly search every nook and cranny for us, after all.

You know.

Funny thing about using a bow. Although I’d found out pretty early on that The Scintillant Blade didn’t work well with projectile weapons, I’d discovered something pretty surprising about another Skill.

The same wasn’t true about Grinding Crimson Sunder.

The head of my drawn arrow ignited in a swirling mass of blood-red thorns. I sighted one of the soldiers below me, his head craning about cautiously. I breathed out one final breath, and on the exhale, I loosed.

My arrow streaked through the air, finding its target. The soldier’s questing head went flying as he was immediately decapitated in a spray of blood.

All hell broke loose.

<<Chapter 186 | Table of Contents | Chapter 188>>

Chapter 186 - The Duelist

Sylvia and I were shooed away as Hook and the senior Agents took to seriously interrogating the SED operatives right there on that rooftop. We were instructed not to go too far, though.

We still had to get debriefed ourselves.

It was seriously late by this time, and I was honestly expecting Tarus to start peaking over the horizon anytime in the next couple hours. It was hard to tell time on Vereden sometimes, as public clocks weren’t really a thing. Don’t get me started on watches, either. With how new Clockwork Engineering was, now Mechanical Engineering, only the very rich had access to pocket watches.

You know what? Fuck it. I’ll make my own. I’m sure I could meld up something decent if I put my mind to it.

And…

All that was just distracting thoughts, from the very long night I’d had so far.

I sighed, slumping back on the bench Sylvia and I were waiting on. We weren’t too far from the public garden and plaza the whole confrontation with Rhiannon had gone down in. This area was rapidly becoming a hive of Nocturne activity. News of what had happened with Dusk and SED seemed to have spread across the ranks, and more and more Agents were popping up on what I mentally referred to as my ‘blood radar’.

In other words, Lifeblood Sense. The passive sense of the Class Talent was, generally, kind of useless. Usually, I only had the barest hint of an idea when a new person was entering my radius of detection with the ability. I had to actively focus on the talent in order to get a better feel for the pounding blood in other people’s bodies. But I didn’t have much better to be doing right now, so I was keeping myself busy by keeping an ‘eye’ out for people popping up in around a fifty meter radius, which seemed to be my range limit.

It was either that, or brood about what was happening to Dusk right about now, and I didn’t…I really didn’t want to do that. I couldn’t drift off into my own mind when I had a debrief to look forward to.

I’d noticed that a number of the senior Agents Hook had arrived with had departed in the direction of the plaza, though. My understanding of Nocturne SOP told me they were inspecting the area, hoping for some kind of clue that Rhiannon or the Solstice guys might have left behind.

Something told me they wouldn’t find anything. As mysterious as she seemed, and apparently hostile too, Rhiannon was…oddly powerful. The woman wasn’t much older than I was, but she almost struck me as being on the level of Honoka or Grey. My understanding was that I wasn’t too far off from the right level of strength someone my age should be now, after six months on Vereden, so…

Something was seriously wrong with that woman.

If she even was a woman. It hadn’t escaped my notice that Dusk and Thirty-Two had been implying she wasn’t.

I was knocked out of my introspection by the feeling of one cool, disguised Mithril hand laying itself on my upper arm. Stirring, I focused back on the world and looked over at Sylvia to my right. The Sculpted woman had long since removed her mask and was looking a bit worn down herself, but she still nodded up to the rooftop above us. Following her gaze, I saw Hook standing up there, gazing down at us. I don’t know how, but he’d somehow dodged my blood sense, as I hadn’t noticed him at all. Something about his posture struck me as impossibly tired, in the moments before the dwarf hopped down to join us on street level.

Without a word, he approached our sitting forms and then hopped up onto the bench. Surprisingly, he reached up and removed his own mask as well, letting us see the deep crags on his exhausted features. He let out a slow sigh, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. Prudently, he removed a familiar artifact from a pouch on his waist, a small hand-held statuette of a raven in flight. Setting it down between his legs and activating it, a wave of Mana rolled over our group and I knew we were obscured from prying eyes and ears.

We sat in silence for a moment, before our commander broke it.

“So,” Hook began, before pausing.

“So,” I acknowledged tiredly.

Tentatively, Sylvia reached out and lay a comforting hand on the dwarf’s broad back. He barely reacted to it at all, but he didn’t shrug it off. “I…,” She started uncertainly. “Had no idea Dusk was so important to you. Excuse me. Liora.”

Hook cut a glance at Sylvia, an almost perpetual frown on his face. Still, he nodded. “What did that…woman say to you?”

Sylvia and I exchanged a glance over his back. “She…seemed to know a lot of things,” I began slowly. “For once, she appeared to know both yours and Dusk's identities, and had no problem flaunting them.”

“Is that so?” Hook said irritably, before shaking his head. “Go on, spit it out. Who am I, then?”

“Ah…she just said a first name,” I answered, a bit taken aback. “Baldric.”

Hook snorted. “Baldric. She does know, then. Which is damn odd, considering there’s no way some little slip of a Calonawr girl should know who I am.”

“And who are you,…Baldric?” Sylvia asked lowly.

Hook leaned back then, crossing his arms and gazing up at the night sky silently for a moment. “Baldric, as she said,” He said with a frown, before cutting his eyes my way. “Of House Florens.”

I blinked slowly for a moment, before the implications of his words set in. I sat up straighter. “Wait, the Rhoscaran ruling House? Does that mean you’re related to the Prince? And…Azarus?”

A brief smirk crossed the lips of Hook.

No…Baldric.

It died though, and he nodded at me. “It’s not a terribly close relation, and I…only met the two of them a couple of times when they were young,” Baldric acknowledged. “I’m technically their great-uncle, but I left when they were very young.”

“Why?” I asked curiously.

Baldric sighed. “Well…,” He drew out, before almost reluctantly continuing. “I’m only going to tell you this because you actually have ties to everyone involved, understand? Otherwise, I would have said it’s none of your business. But it’s like this. Morok, my nephew and the previous Prince of Rhoscara, asked me to leave.”

I blinked at that. “Asked you?”

“Politely, of course,” Baldric said dryly. “See, technically, I should have been the Prince over him. I had two elder brothers, and both of them were never very martially inclined. I was interested in growing stronger, as I had no other way to advance my position in those days. This was some, oh, two centuries ago I’d say. I’m not quite Greycton’s age, but I’m not barely out of diapers like you two.”

Hey.

Sylvia never even wore diapers, grandpa.

I kept my mouth shut, though. I didn’t want to get ‘hooked’, so to speak.

“So I did my time in the Army as a Scout, and then came back and started to make a reputation for myself as a duelist,” At my raised eyebrow, Baldric actually cringed a little. “I was an arrogant little shit at the time, and I’ll leave it at that. But it made me popular with certain people, due to my strength. To make a long story short, I calmed down after I met my wife. My eldest brother had died at that point, leaving behind a daughter who would become Azarus’s mother. This forced my second brother to take up the mantle of Prince, who would go on to father Morok.”

I took a deep breath at that point, and gave voice to a suspicion that had been gathering in the back of my rings. “Then Olag is…?”

Baldric deflated then. “My grandson,” He confirmed quietly. He sighed. “I’ve heard he’s been challenging Ely for the throne recently. I…even heard about your little stunt in the court, that he prompted from you. I…well. I never had much to do with the boy. He’s probably making a nuisance of himself because of the old factions that thought I should have been Prince over Morok, when my last brother carked it. By the time Olag was learning to speak, Morok was asking me to make myself scarce. I’d long since publically announced my support for him as Prince, but there were still whispers that I should rule instead. So, I faked my death on a false expedition into the Deadlands, and essentially…vanished into thin air.”

“Then…how did you come to join the Order?” Sylvia prompted him. “Surely you were not a member before this point.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t,” Baldric confirmed, nodding at Sylvia. “Heading the Nocturne Division…it’s a relatively new thing, for me. I’ve only been doing it for a little over twenty years, now. I wasn’t the one to found it, either. See, it used to be run by an old friend of Greycton’s. A powerful old bugger from back in the day that used to run with him as one of his adventuring buddies. He went into core collapse, though, and went out with a bang.” He chuckled morbidly, at some joke neither Sylvia and I were privy to. “This was all around the time I was leaving Rhoscara, so Greycton needed someone to take over the Division for him. My understanding is he approached that old monster in Marrowmist first, Cassandra the Red. She laughed in his face, though, so he sought me out. I never got an answer from him about how he knew I was still alive. I had nothing better to be doing at the time, so I accepted. It was…good for me, I think. I’m suited to work, and it’s not that different from my old Scout days.”

“And then Liora came into the picture,” I picked up then, nodding along.

Baldric raised an eyebrow at me, before glowering into the distance. “She even knew about that? Who the hell is this woman?” He shook his head, before heaving an explosive sigh. “I suppose you can say that. Dusk…Liora, is the last surviving family member of the previous Nocturne Divisions head. She was literally born into this life. She lives and breathes it, probably more than I do. I just kind of…happened to start looking after her, when she wouldn’t go away. I wouldn’t say I raised her but…” For the first time, I saw Baldric become lost for words.

“But she’s important to you,” Sylvia cut in, understanding how he felt better than I did. She smiled at Baldric. “She’s nearly a granddaughter to you.”

Baldric was silent for a moment, before nodding slightly. “I suppose so,” He said quietly.

“And now she’s been taken by Rhiannon,” I said with a frown.

Baldric’s face abruptly hardened. “So she has,” He said, lifting his mask back up to his face. When he raised his head again, he was Hook once more. “And I’m not going to let her stay with that woman.” He stood up then, deactivating the concealing device and slipping it back into his pouch. “Back to base, the both of you. I have a meeting with the rest of the SED remnants shortly. Get ready once you’re back, because we’re going to move fast on this.”

I scrambled to my feet, Sylvia following behind me. “Wait a minute,” I said rapidly, before he could leave. “What about Rhiannon? What is she, and why have SED been hounding her? What the hell is going on with them?”

“I don’t have the full picture yet,” Hook shook his head briskly. “That’s what I’m going to find out. I should hopefully be back soon.” Just before he left, though, he turned to look at us with a grave air. “But…I have a suspicion about what this ‘Rhiannon’ is. And if I’m right…we’re all in deep shit.” Before I could protest any further, he vanished in a blur of speed.

Leaving Sylvia and I to stand around gormlessly in the middle of the deserted side street.

I sighed, before I felt Sylvia’s hand settle on my elbow and draw my gaze. “Let’s go,” She said gently. “Like he said, we need to get ready. Plus, there should be news on Wisp’s condition.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. With that, Sylvia and I finally got the chance to leave, while other Agents were still scouring the site of our battle with SED.

…………………………………..

Wisp wasn’t at our warehouse base, but we did have news on her from the Healer. Crook was staying with her and she’d relayed the news. Wisp was going to pull through, but her injuries meant she was going to be out of commission for some time. Maybe as much as a week.

Which meant she was going to miss whatever major operation was surely being planned to rescue Dusk. Surprisingly, the general chatter at our temporary headquarters was very much in favor of that. It looked like everyone that wasn’t out investigating Rhiannon had been recalled from their missions, and there were more Nocturne Agents in one place here than I’d seen since Helstein. They all seemed completely on board with storming the palace to search for Dusk, making the assumption that she had to be inside.

I had no idea she was so well-liked. Maybe it had something to do with being the granddaughter of the Division’s founder, as I’d discovered.

But…

It turned out, having all of our Agents ready and on hand was a double-edged sword.

Because before Hook could return, the dockside warehouse was attacked.

<<Chapter 185 | Table of Contents | Chapter 187>>

Chapter 185 - Razor-Sharp Rage

Only minutes later, I found myself staring at a horrifying and gruesome scene.

The still, bloodied form of Wisp.

After Crook, Sylvia, and I had left the plaza accompanied by the SED Agents, the three of us who were Nocturnes had made a beeline for the rooftop we had originally departed from. Our former, and perhaps still, enemies had followed along silently, appearing to guess where we were coming from.

After all, they had been given the chance to collect their own dead before we’d left. The SED operative who I was suspecting had been the one to fight Wisp had the tact to not follow us up here, instead hanging back down on street level with their own dead comrade and the unconscious one Dusk had taken out.

Even though I had been expecting the sight of Wisp’s body, it still knocked the breath out of me. The rooftop was ruined, and the overhang that we had been doing our reconnaissance under had been torn down completely, laying in heaps of splinters and scattered every which way. I don’t know how the battle with the SED agent had gone, but it looked to have been a quick one. I’m not sure Wisp even had the opportunity to fight back before she’d been jumped. It looked to me that after having been…stabbed several times, she’d crawled her way over to rest against the door to the lower floors, and then simply…bled out. Her head was hanging over her chest, and her mask was starting to fall over her face.

I…I’m not sure how willing to work with the SED agents I was, after seeing something like this. There had been an implicit agreement among Crook, Sylvia, and I in the moments after leaving the plaza that there was more going on underneath the surface of Elderwyck than we knew, and it involved SED in some way. There had been talk of ‘factions’ and how SED had been hounding Rhiannon in particular for months now, and we needed to know what was going on. Dusk, or rather Liora, had essentially sacrificed herself on the possibility that we could solve this mystery.

I didn’t want to waste that opportunity, but right now all I wanted to do was turn around and tear out the throat of the two silently watching SED Agents.

That is, until something completely unexpected happened.

Under our disbelieving eyes, the ‘corpse’ of Wisp abruptly took a deep gasping breath before coughing up a mouthful of blood. I saw one unmasked eye crack open and look around deliriously before settling on both us, and the SED agents at our back. “Am I hallucinatin’,” A hoarse, confused voice escaped the apparently not dead woman. “Or are there SED behind you?”

I ignored her babbling, veritably teleporting to Wisp's side as I began to focus extremely hard on the task ahead. Once I had skidded to my knees in front of her, I began to rapidly withdraw supplies from my pouch. I vaguely noticed that Crook and Sylvia had joined me, but I almost completely disregarded them. I may not know Crook very well, but I did know that Sylvia had limited ability when it came to performing first aid. I, on the other hand, had an omnidisciplinary Profession capable of battlefield surgery.

I had more important things to do than pay attention to anyone else but Wisp.

I ripped off the mask of the delirious woman and began pouring a variety of different potions I had on me down her throat. Once that was done, I spoke to my companions without looking at them. “Hold her down,” I said curtly. Without further prompting, Crook and Sylvia complied, grabbing the delirious Wisp by the shoulders firmly.

Taking off my gloves, I reached out and laid my bare hands against the bloodied figure of Wisp as she struggled weakly. Focusing, I fell in my Aetherial Melding trance.

And got to work.

Ten minutes of tense work later, I relaxed out of my trance and sighed, sitting back on my hands.

God, it had been a while since I’d had to do something like this. As far back as Addersfield, I’d say. My Aetherial first aid was sloppy, and very draining on me. But it worked.

Wisp would survive, at the very least until we could get her to a real Healer. She’d passed back out halfway through my treatment, but she was stable now, and no longer losing blood at a risky pace. Crook and Sylvia hadn’t needed to hold her down after the other Agent had lost consciousness, and had taken to guarding the two of us. When I looked up again, I saw Crook in the middle of a staring match with the SED Agents, while Sylvia had lifted her mask to smile down at me in pride.

“Well done,” She said quietly, laying a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. I could see relief thick in her gaze, that we hadn’t lost anyone in what had turned out to be a pointless conflict. I lay my own hand on top of hers, and returned the squeeze with a smile. After a moment, I used her hand to leverage myself to my feet with a groan. After both the fighting and the impromptu surgery, I was feeling pretty worn out.

“Crook,” I said quietly, causing said Agent to turn her head slightly in my direction. I noticed that she didn’t completely take her eyes off of the SED group, though. “I need you to carry her.”

After a moment, Crook nodded slightly and then stepped back to gather the comatose form of Wisp in her arms. As she did so, I stepped forward, drawing the attention of the SED operatives. I was feeling much, much more charitable towards them now that I knew Wisp hadn’t been killed by the guy down on the street.

We just had to see if they were feeling the same way, as I knew that the person Wisp had shot was very, very dead. Last I’d seen, their head was only hanging on by a thread of sinew.

“Now what?” I said bluntly, doing my best to focus through my exhaustion. I was the best option we had between the three of us to negotiate with members of the rival spy organization. For the moment, at least. Sylvia was just too…awkward with strangers, while Crook struck me as someone with a grudge. The buck stopped with me, for now. I couldn’t wait to pass this whole situation on at the first opportunity.

The SED member that had protested their leader surrendering themselves stepped forward. “I am Number Seventeen, and this is Number Forty-Five,” They said, their voice obscured by the enchantment of their illusionary mask. “At this point, we…request the opportunity to speak with your leader, in order to discuss the next step.”

I crossed my arms, the exposure of my face to people I’d just been fighting making me itch. I made sure to keep my expression flat. “And what do you see those next steps as?”

Seventeen and Forty-Five exchanged glances before Seventeen spoke again. “Am I correct in assuming that neither of us is content with allowing our respective comrades to remain with that…woman?”

“Obviously,” Crook growled at the SED Agents. Forty-Five turned their head to look at her, but didn’t speak. They did, however, give the impression of mutual animosity.

Sometimes, you could just feel these things.

Meanwhile, I frowned, but nodded. Glancing to the side, I approached the edge of the building we were talking on. Looking out over it at the garden and plaza we had just escaped from, I could see no trace of Rhiannon or her apparent Solstice’s Flame hirelings. They must have vacated the area as quickly as we had.

Or at least, they wanted us to think that. By setting up this entire apparent trap for the SED forces, Rhiannon had displayed a level of planning, subtly, and forethought that I didn’t normally associate with the nobility. While the woman may have reminded me of Magnus, she was clearly not quite as maniacally dim as my former ‘master’ had been.

She was an actual threat, it seemed.

I let out a slow breath. “It’s not my call to make,” I eventually said, before turning around and looking at my companions. “Crook, you should go get Wisp looked at. You know where to take her,” I said, alluding to the Healer’s clinic the Division had ties to. The same one that Hook had been treated at, following his injuries in the mausoleum. “Whisper and I can handle this.”

Crook almost looked like she was going to protest the ad hoc order I’d all but given out. And I didn’t blame her for that. Sylvia and I were much more junior Agents than she was, after all. But Crook seemed pragmatic enough to realize we had no choice in the matter. I may have stabilized Wisp, but she still needed real Healing. She nodded curtly, and then turned and made a running leap to land on another nearby rooftop. In moments, the dark of the night had swallowed her and her precious cargo.

I turned my eyes to Sylvia then. “You…should call this in,” I said, referencing the communication coins obliquely. No way in hell was I going to be directly mentioning a Division secret in front of SED Agents.

Sylvia studied me for a moment, before nodding and turning to face the doorway to the lower floors of this building. No longer caring about subtlety, she drew her sword and sliced the chain and lock holding it closed before opening it and stepping inside.

I sighed, now that I was alone with the SED Agents. I know I should be concerned about that, considering they were our nominal enemies.

But after the shit show that tonight had turned into, I couldn’t give less of a fuck.

Either they’d stab in the back, or they wouldn’t.

Whatever.

I kept my eyes on them at the very least, as we stood around in awkward silence while Sylvia went through the laborious process of messaging Headquarters. It typically took a few minutes of flipping to translate a complex situation like this.

About five minutes of all three of us standing around silently, the door opened and Sylvia stepped out. She nodded at me. “They’ve been informed.”

Moments later, I could feel my own independent confirmation of that fact. My location coin strapped to the inside of my right arm started jerking in place rapidly. Looked like it had been linked up with a number of different other coins.

Backup seemed to be on the way.

“Looks like you’ll get a meeting,” I said shortly, cutting my eyes back over to Seventeen. They just nodded silently, before leaning over and whispering something to Forty-Five, too quietly for us to hear. After a moment, he nodded and then abruptly stepped over the other side of the building to the street below. Before I could even really ask what was going on, he had returned with the other SED member that had been waiting down there.

Accompanying them was the newly reawakened person I had been fighting, as well the corpse of the person slain by Wisp. I got the impression of a dirty glance from the Agent I’d, frankly been losing against, but they didn’t speak themselves.

Seventeen inclined their head at the two new arrivals, first to my opponent, and then the one who had nearly killed Wisp. “Twenty-Two, and Thirty-Nine,” They said, half in acknowledgment, half in introduction.

Welp.

Now it was twice as awkward up here. Not only that, but now Sylvia and I were outnumbered two to one.

How wonderful.

Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait around long to be saved from the situation.

Abruptly, five people landed on the rooftop, coming to our rescue in record time. All five of them were Nocturne Agents, some of whom I recognized, and some of whom I didn’t. However, there was a very surprising face among them.

Hook.

Ever since we’d started operating in Elderwyck, I had never seen our commander out in the field taking on a mission. I knew he had to have been doing things on his own beyond just coordinating the Division, considering the personal investigation he was undertaking. But I had never seen, or heard of him accompanying any other members.

However, here he was.

And he looked pissed.

The air grew heavy with the power of his projected Mana, as the dwarf took one heavy step forward. The stone of the rooftop fractured from the force of his advance, as he directed a furious gaze on everyone gathered here, particularly the SED Agents. And then he did something I had only seen the most powerful do.

He projected his own ‘Mantle’, that mysterious demonstration of might I’d seen from Grey and Honoka on occasion. Only, instead of the world darkening more than it already was, it grew sharper.

It was…hard to explain. It was like every puff of air, even the breeze on the wind, sprouted razor blades. They weren’t cutting at me, no. Instead, it was almost like the very air around me was ever so slightly…shaving against my very spirit. It wasn’t taking anything away with every pass of the invisible blade. Just…making me aware of the implication of a threat.

It was profoundly, incredibly uncomfortable.

I shivered, and I noticed I wasn’t the only one.

“What,” Hook growled. “Is this I hear about Dusk being captured?”

<<Chapter 184 | Table of Contents | Chapter 186>>

Chapter 184 - Creatures of the Vale

Each and every one of the accompanying classers from the Order of Solstice’s Flame looked like they could take me. These didn’t look like the run-of-the-mill warriors that had to fill the ranks of the opposing Martial Order. No, if I had to take a guess, this was an entire platoon of elites, hand-picked and sculpted by their leadership in order to kick ass and take names. From their highly personalized, intimidatingly powerful feeling weapons and armor, to the simple way they held each other, I doubted my chances against any of these guys.

And there were at least thirty of the damn people, all of them at the beck and call of Rhiannon.

What…

What the hell was going on here? How did the woman have the pull to command such a force?

Rhiannon herself looked almost exactly the same as she had back at the shop, in a slightly off putting way. Still wearing the same pitch black gown and furs, her burgundy eyes sought out mine from across the dead silent plaza. Nobody that had been previously fighting had moved an inch since Rhiannon had shown herself.

She smiled thinly at me.

“My my,” Rhiannon said casually, sauntering farther into the plaza. As she did, the classers moved forward and started to spread out. Gradually, the platoon began to encircle both us and the SED agents, sticking to the very edges of the circular plaza.

I tensed at the motion, nearly springing away from the trap. I was stopped, though, when Dusk clamped down hard onto my shoulder, nearly enough to grind my bones together. She wasn’t even looking when she stopped me, just watching Rhiannon instead.

As if she was the real threat, and not the deadly-looking classers from a rival Order.

Almost mockingly, Rhiannon trailed her eyes over Dusk for a moment, before letting them meet mine once again. She continued speaking. “I certainly didn’t expect to see you here, Nathan,” She nearly purred. I mentally winced at how she had just blown whatever cover I still had, but it wasn’t a huge loss. The SED agents, and particularly their leader whose head had just turned slightly to look at me had already seen my face. I was going to have to burn the identity of Hans Schefel no matter what.

Sorry, Jason.

“After all, this little trap wasn’t even for you,” Rhiannon said casually, trailing a hand over the bench the SED leader had been sitting on earlier. For some reason, a screeching sounded out from the point of contact between her nails and the iron fittings, echoing around the plaza. “I was just trying to bait out some little rats that have been troubling me. The Guard Captain didn’t mention you were the ones acting as…enticement. Tsk tsk. I’ll have to punish him later.”

…What?

“As expected of you, creature,” The SED leader unexpectedly said, contempt dripping from their synthesized voice. “You care so little for collateral damage that you won’t care that even your latest little interests step in the way.”

Rhiannon rolled her eyes at them as the Solstice’s Flame classers finished encircling the plaza. Not a one of them, including the absolutely massive man carrying a warhammer in full plate at Rhiannon’s side, had spoken once since they’d stepped foot in the clearing. They seemed content to let Rhiannon do it, while they watched Crook, Dusk, Sylvia and I hungrily.

“Oh, do drop the self-pity, Number Thirty-Two,” Rhiannon said derisively. “It ill suits you. Besides, you should speak when spoken to. Be quiet now, and let the adults do the speaking,” She flicked a dismissive finger at ‘Number Thirty-Two’.

From it, a thin line of a dark, indistinguishable liquid sliced from its tip to crash into the SED leader’s shoulder. It split both the cloth of their cloak and the chain of the armor I could now see underneath, exposing their pale flesh in an instant.

A massive, nearly bone-deep gash opened up on their shoulder, bleeding heavily. Thirty-Two barely flinched at the attack, even though it had to be absolutely agonizing. They must have an incredibly capable mental control Skill like my own in order to endure that.

Even though their leader had barely reacted to the attack, the other two SED members tensed up and moved as if to attack. They were stopped by the raised hand of Thirty-Two. They shook their head, causing the two operatives to step back.

Rhiannon visibly dismissed the group of SED agents, instead shifting her eyes to look over our group. In particular, they lingered on both Dusk and Sylvia, even though she had previously been speaking to me. “Hmm…” She trailed off, tapping one darkly painted fingernail against her lips. “But perhaps this will work out better.”

I decided to finally speak up. “Rhiannon, what is this about?” I asked her in a low, tense voice.

The woman broke out of her spell, blinking rapidly at me. It was as if she had forgotten I was even here. She dismissed me after a moment, though. “Oh, just considering which of your two little girls there I’m going to take with me,” She said casually, eyes still lingering on Dusk and Sylvia. She was speaking as if she had just debated which café she was going to choose, and not which person she was going to kidnap. Either my friend and comrade.

Or my girlfriend.

I tensed up at the same time Sylvia did. Dusk didn’t react, though. She just kept watching Rhiannon with steady eyes.

Said noblewoman kept speaking. “On one hand, we have the daughter of the mighty Greycton, Archmage of the Violet Circle, Headmaster of the Academy, and Grand Marshall of the Order of the Eclipsed Dawn,” She said casually, outing Sylvia without a second thought. The eyes of every Solstice’s Flame member in the plaza immediately shifted to home in on her eagerly, palpable bloodlust in their gazes. Meanwhile, Rhiannon had locked her eyes on Dusk, as if she could see straight through her mask. For all I knew, she could, with the way she seemed to be able to see through Sylvia’s illusioned façade. “On the other, we have little Liora Valen, so far from home.”

Dusk visibly twitched at the name Rhiannon had just thrown out.

I’m…guessing that was Dusk’s real name. She had never shared it with me, so it was my first time hearing it.

“Orphaned at a young age and taken in by that sad old failure Baldric-excuse me, I hear he goes by Hook these days,” Rhiannon said mockingly, lightly covering her mouth with one hand. That name only caused Dusk to tense further. “He taught you all the worthless, tired old skills that he could. And when you came of age, you insisted that you join up with his little band of spies and cutthroats. Tsk tsk, whatever would your poor old parents think of you now?”

How…

How did Rhiannon know all of this? How could she possibly know Hook’s real identity, when I don’t think anyone in the Nocturne Division did. In all of my time both around Hook, and in the Division in general, I had never heard even the hint of a whisper as to his real name. The dwarf's history was a blank slate, and seemingly purposefully so. And here was this random noblewoman dropping secret, well-hidden knowledge like it didn’t even matter.

It gave me an ominous feeling.

That was only enhanced when the look Rhiannon was giving her turned calculating. “Yes…thinking about it. Why choose?” She said with a smirk. “I only need one, but both wouldn’t hurt. Boys, take them.” At Rhiannon’s dismissive gesture towards us, the surrounding Solstice’s Flame members all finally drew their weapons. Slowly, they started to advance on our combined group of SED and Nocturne Agents. As the circle closed in on us, I bizarrely found myself back to back with the SED Agent Sylvia had been locked in life and death battle with only moments ago. We exchanged brief looks of mutual antipathy, but didn’t say anything about it.

After all, it looked like these guys were more than willing to take all of us at once.

Strangely, both Dusk and Thirty-Two didn’t move from their original positions. They exchanged a long, slow glance before the SED Agent inclined their head at her. Dusk nodded, and then turned to face the smugly onlooking Rhiannon. The Gnoll woman struck out sharply with one hand. “Stop. Or I promise you, you’ll regret it.”

Idly, Rhiannon raised one hand, causing the advancing Solstice’s Flame members to halt in place. “Oh, is that so?” She said with an amused smile. “What could you possibly do now that could make me regret anything?”

Slowly, Dusk reached up to grab her mask. Undoing the clasp, she lowered it, allowing me to see her white-furred face unobscured and undisguised for the first time since I’d known her. I wasn’t exactly the best judge of Gnollish beauty, but I would certainly say that she was a striking example of her kind. Her face was particularly memorable considering the nearly crescent moon shaped markings of black fur she had underneath her strangely violet eyes.

Right now, her snout was arranged in something I never would have expected on the usually taciturn gnoll woman’s face.

A small, sharp smile.

“Because I know what you are, ‘Rhiannon’,” Dusk, or rather Liora Valen, said semi-mockingly.

Rhiannon finally lost the ever-present smile that had been on her face this whole time. Now she was just looking at the Gnoll with a frighteningly blank look.

Meanwhile, most everyone else in the clearing was looking confused. I was considering the wording of what Liora had said.

‘What’ you are, and not ‘who’ you are.

I say most everyone was looking confused, but not Thirty-Two. They hadn’t reacted to Liora’s words at all, while even their SED underlings had perplexed posture.

“You, are bluffing,” Rhiannon said bluntly. “This is nothing more than a pathetic attempt to throw me off guard.”

“You were careful, I will admit that,” Liora said grimly, outright ignoring the other woman. “But there are certain traces that your kind leave that cannot be concealed. Your kind thrive off of being unknown and unseen, operating in the shadows to twist things to your liking. But if even the barest hint of suspicion is cast, then those traces can be found. And then you. Are. Doomed.”

Rhiannon was looking at the Gnoll now with wary, narrowed eyes. She didn’t speak, as it seemed like she was starting to believe that Liora actually knew what she was speaking about.

And my comrade noticed that. She smiled at who I was suspecting might not actually be Bleddyn’s cousin. “I found it on the Portal St-”

Rhiannon moved.

In the blink of an eye, faster than I had seen anything and anyone move ever since I’d come to Vereden, Rhiannon appeared in front of the unmasked Nocturne Agent. Liora had been cut off because the woman had her by the throat, and was dangling her in midair.

Right next to me.

I startled and skipped back, along with the rest of the other Agents around me, Nocturne or otherwise.

Fast.

Faster than even Honoka was, I thought. I had seen the old woman move quickly in the past, but never to the degree that I had just seen Rhiannon do.

Liora wasn’t struggling in Rhiannon’s grip, even though the other woman was holding her above the ground. Instead, she just met the ‘noble’s’ eyes and smiled slightly.

Said noble was standing utterly, impossible still when she finally spoke. “What do you want.” She said in a flat, unemotional tone of voice. I didn’t get the impression that was so much a question, as it was a statement.

Liora didn’t waste any time. “Let my comrades go, and I’ll come with you willingly. If not, then my deadman’s switch will deliver the truth of your identity to Grand Marshall Greycton.”

Deadman’s switch? That was a thing here? I…guess it had to be an enchantment of some kind.

“Not good enough,” Rhiannon rebutted, her painted lips curling. “I can’t be certain just you will be enough for my needs.”

Before things could degenerate any further, Thirty-Two stepped forward. “Then I shall assist,” They said flatly. “I offer myself as well, in order to buy my own comrades freedom.”

“Commander!” I heard one of the other SED operatives say, taking a protesting step forward.

“Silence, Seventeen,” Thirty-Two said calmly, without even looking at his subordinate. ‘Seventeen’ reeled back as if they’d been struck, but quieted down. “I, too, know what you are. Creature. The Nocturnes are not the only ones capable of deduction. Why else do you think our faction was hounding you so, these past few months?”

Rhiannon cut her eyes over at Thirty-Two, narrowing them. “I see I’ve been a bit careless, if a couple of striplings like yourself can discover this,” She mused almost casually. Still, she nodded sharply. “The deal is struck, then. Your lives now belong to me. Go,” Rhiannon said to the rest of us, almost dismissively. “My toys shall not bother you anymore, this night.”

None of us moved, unwilling to leave any of comrades behind.

Rhiannon’s eyes narrowed. “Do not scorn my generosity, curs.”

Dusk, or rather Liora, turned around to meet my eyes.

And nodded, almost peacefully.

‘Go’, she mouthed.

I lay my hands on Sylvia and Crook’s arms, drawing their attention. When they looked at me, I jerked my head in the direction out of the plaza. Crook studied me for a moment before abruptly nodding, while Sylvia said nothing. She did reach out to squeeze my hand, though. Slowly, the three of us started to back away in the direction of the building we’d been observing from. The SED agents were slower to comply with their leader's orders, but eventually complied. They grabbed the still unconscious form of the agent I had been fighting as well as the corpse of the one Wisp had killed. Afterward, they joined us as we stepped through the wall of Solstice’s Flame members, and out of the plaza.

My last glimpse of the captive Liora was the strangely peaceful look on her white-furred face.

As if she had accepted her fate.

My lips thinned.

I promise, Dusk. We’d be back for you.

Count on it.

<<Chapter 183 | Table of Contents | Chapter 185>>

Chapter 183 - Chaining

Mid-leap, one of the SED Agents was knocked out of the air by something traveling so fast I could barely make it out. It was only thanks to the playback of the scene by my core ring that I was able to just barely perceive a single arrow coated in flowing purple Mana, before it promptly pierced the side of the unlucky Agent.

Wisp on overwatch had gotten one of them.

The force of the arrow was great enough that the SED operative was blown off of their feet, flying to slam against a nearby tree in the plaza. Somehow, her shot was accurate enough to lodge itself straight in the throat of the ambusher. The arrow pinned the black-cloaked figure like it was a captured insect. They writhed for only a moment, clutching uselessly at the shaft in their trachea, before they fell still.

By the time Crook, Sylvia, and I had met the surviving SED members blade to blade, it was now four versus three, instead of the five they’d arrived with. Curtly, the leader that had been speaking to me earlier gestured with their free hand not occupied holding back Crook’s stave at another one of their cohorts. They broke away from trying to circle around behind me to dash off in the direction of Wisp on her rooftop, dodging arrows coated in violet Mana all the while. The sound of the projectiles cracking into the stone of the plaza echoed like gunshots in the night.

Three versus three, now. Evenly matched.

Thanks, Wisp.

Sylvia and her chosen opponent both shimmered out of sight in duel illusionary Skills for their own battle, out of sight from the rest of us. Odd, hidden clashes started erupting out of mid-air all over the plaza, the two apparent stealth specialists clashing only briefly just out of phase. Meanwhile, Crook and the leader had begun trading blows in a much more straightforward duel than I was expecting, her stave clashing against the fucking broadsword that the leader had drawn from nowhere. The two brutish weapons were creating shockwaves that rolled over the rest of us, from the apparent strength behind both weapons.

I had no idea Crook was this strong. Thank fuck I’d brought her along.

But I only vaguely noticed any of this, and only thanks to the observational abilities of Ringed Mind. I was too busy trying to fight off someone who was very, very obviously stronger than I was.

And failing.

I cursed mentally, desperately dodging out of the way of a strike from the SED member’s bizarre weapon. I’d never seen or fought against anything like it before, in my time on Vereden. To my eyes, it looked like someone had attached a mini scythe to a length of fine chain, and then weighted the other end with the head of a small, spiked mace. My opponent was wielding the strange weapon with such preternatural skill that I was certain they had gone the route of specialization in it. They had to have an advanced proficiency talent in using this thing, whatever it was.

In a way, their fighting style almost reminded me of the way Azarus tended to throw around his hammer and shield. Right now, I was feeling like a complete moron for never asking to spar with him when he was using his chains. It had just never come up, with as focused as he’d been on teaching me conventional weapon forms.

How the hell was I supposed to know I would encounter another chain wielder? How popular could the damn things be?

I promised myself I would bug him for the practice.

If I ever saw him again.

Even with Sylvan Vigor jacked up as high as I could manage, I was only barely managing to keep the bladed edge of the flying scythe from taking my head off. I had no doubt it could do that, either. As I parried one wide, scything throw from the operative, the tumbling edge of the blade briefly touched the wood of the bench from earlier.

The solid wooden structure was cut neatly in half when my opponent reeled the blade back in. I only scarcely caught the sight of that, though, as I was too busy being knocked off of my feet from the mace head of the chain impacting my stomach, thrown underhanded by the SED operative. If I hadn’t been wearing a sleeveless vest of leather armor under my civilian clothes, I would have been disemboweled right then and there. As it was, I could see feel the spikes of the mace penetrate deep enough through the hard leather to prick the skin of my stomach before it was withdrawn.

I tumbled through the air from the force of the blow, only able to stop myself from flying into the garden by stabbing one of my daggers down into the stone of the plaza below. The flagstones crumbled under the enchanted force of my Oninite blade, but still slowed me enough that I was able to land on my hands and knees. Instantly, I raised both my head and my right hand, still clutching the dagger not buried in the stone beneath, and pointed two fingers in the direction of the chain wielding assassin.

Snarling, I fired off a barrage of three Poisonthorn Shots at them.

The SED operative stopped spinning the chain of their weapon for another throw and caught the hand of the scythe. Holding the blade flat before them, a pane of inky black shadows, so similar to the Skill that had held me earlier, span up in front of them. Almost contemptuously, my opponent blocked all three of my poisonous thorns, neither the point nor the corrosive acid coating them managing to pierce the solid darkness.

But in the brief moment that their sight had been blocked by their shield, I had pushed off against the flagstones as hard as I possibly could, straight at the chain-wielding maniac. The stone under my feet cracked in a noise not dissimilar to the shots that Wisp had been landing earlier, as I flew through the air, daggers poised to strike at the operative like the fangs of a serpent.

I saw my opponent tense in surprise in the split second before I closed in on them as they snapped the chain of their weapon in a guarding position. The length of chain gleamed oddly, looking to grow sturdier.

My Oninite blades crashed into the strangely sturdy links in an explosion of sparks. In an instant, the length of chain somehow flowed around the blades of my daggers, trapping them in place. Above me, I could see the scythe blade at the end of their long weapon angle down at me in a killing blow. For some reason, I got the impression that the opposing agent was smirking at me.

I grinned viciously in response, and activated the entire reason I had gotten so close to them.

Grinding Crimson Sunder.

The blades of my daggers erupted into a swirling mire of blood-red screeching thorns. The chain around both of my daggers burst into an explosion of sundered links from the grinding force of my synergized Skill, falling in fragments all around me. At the same time, I depressed the activation switch on the dagger I was aiming.

Right. At. Their. Head.

The collapsible spear exploded into its full length in an instant, as I tried to lance through their skull with just the power of the springs in my weapon.

Somehow, the SED operative was able to react in time to dodge the incoming point of my spear. They jerked their head backward just in time to avoid taking the full blade to the face. Instead, the crimson-coated edge just barely scraped along the swirling illusionary surface of their concealing spell mask. It was disrupted along the line of the blade, briefly revealing their face to the world.

In response, the operative rocketed their head back forward in a headbutt that I didn’t see coming, closing the short distance that was between our two bodies. In the split second before their skull impacted my own, I was able to see I had carved a bloody line over one furious brown eye, set into a pale feminine face.

That was all I saw, though, because in the next instant, I was seeing stars. I stumbled back, activating Thorn Cloak almost instinctually as I did so. It was a good thing I did, as I felt the spiked end of my opponents severed chain mace swing around behind me and strike my back. The spikes pierced the mass of thorns, but not the surface of my armor this time. I skipped back in order to get some distance between us, as my sight started to clear.

When I could see again, I noticed that the surface of the operative’s illusionary mask had regenerated from my strike. But now their posture was much warier now that they’d found out I could actually hurt them. They were holding the handle of their severed scythe in their left hand, while they swung the shorter length of chain attached to the mace head in the other, gearing up for another throw.

Shit.

That had been an almost last-gasp gambit from me. I didn’t know what else to do, now that this apparent woman was wise to some of my best tricks. I wasn’t going to be able to get them with the extension of my daggers anymore, and they were going to be wary of my blades now that they knew I had weapon enhancement Skills. I could hurt them with Grinding Crimson Sunder, and hell, I could probably get them with The Scintillant Blade too. But the problem now was they still had range on me with that chain mace, and my spear wasn’t longer than that chain. I couldn’t rely on backup either, as both Crook and Sylvia were still preoccupied with their own opponents.

Damnit, this was probably the worst combat matchup I’d ever had on Vereden. Conceptually, I was too similar in ability to this woman, and I couldn’t beat her with pure Skill. In pure instinct and skill, she seemed superior to me as well.

Fuck it.

I was just going to have to grit my teeth and do my best.

I sheathed my left dagger and extended my right, gripping it in a spear stance instead of bothering with daggers anymore. The chain may be longer than my shorter spear, but it was still better for this situation.

I took a deep breath, and prepared to charge.

I needn’t have bothered.

Appearing as if out of nowhere, a familiar Gnoll woman shimmered into view in a flying kick to the side of the SED operative I’d been failing against.

Dusk, somehow miraculously coming to my rescue.

Impossibly, I saw the woman try to react to the sneak attack, but not fast enough for once. The kick impacted their side, and they went flying to slam against the nearby trunk of a tree in the plaza. In particular, I saw their head bounce hard off the bark. They tried to struggle back to their feet from the hard impact, only to slump back against it, looking to have lost consciousness.

I let out a slow breath, before flicking my eyes over at taciturn Gnoll that had saved me. I nearly had to do a double-take at the sight of her.

Bizarrely, while she was still wearing her face-concealing mask, she was not wearing the normal Order armor. Instead, she had an almost incongruously stereotypical maid uniform on. The long black skirt and blouse were overlaid by a frilly white apron, upon which I could see dust and dirt stains.

I stared at her dumbly for a moment, forgetting the entire confrontation still ongoing. I nearly wanted to cry laughing at how out of place the Gnoll woman looked. After a moment, though, I snapped out of it.

Something else had grabbed my attention. Multiple things, in fact.

The first was that the SED leader had disengaged from Crook, and had backed off while the other operative fighting Sylvia shimmered into view next to them, regrouping. Because someone else had joined them, too.

The agent that had been sent off in the direction of Wisp.

They had returned, and their body was dripping with freshly stained blood.

My own ran cold at the sight of it, the implication slowly sinking in while Crook and Sylvia joined Dusk and I. Crook noticed the same thing I did, and snarled like a wild animal, taking a tense step forward. She was blocked by the extended arm of Dusk, however. I’m not sure she even noticed. “What did you do?!” She shouted in the silence of the plaza, at the blood-drenched SED operative.

They didn’t answer. Instead, the leader did for them. “No more than you, Nocturne,” They said, their disdain somehow translating through the voice modulating effect of their illusionary mask. “An eye…for an eye.”

Crook tensed further, her grip on her stave tightening enough for the wood to creak. Before she could do anything, though, Dusk finally spoke since her sudden entrance. “Enough,” She said lowly, causing Crook to turn her head slightly. I broke out of my shock caused by the apparent death of Wisp to look at her. “We need to go. Now.”

“Why?!” Crook questioned furiously. “We can’t just let them get away with this!”

But it wasn’t Dusk who answered, or even the SED leader.

Instead, it was a familiar voice, coming from the entrance to the plaza.

“Oh, possibly because of me,” A cool, refined female voice rang out, accompanied by the sound of marching armor-clad boots.

I…knew that voice. The owner was the entire reason this confrontation even happened.

Turning my head, I saw her.

Rhiannon.

Accompanied by what looked like an entire platoon of classers from a group I hadn’t seen since we’d taken Helstein.

The Order of Solstice’s Flame.

<<Chapter 182 | Table of Contents | Chapter 184>>