Chapter 105: Tactics Don't Come In Boxes |
Lukas looked inward, focusing on Spellweaver, and left the clones to their work. He trusted them to keep the enemy busy and off his back while he played with the threads of magic. The weave was far more complicated than anything he had encountered before, looking more like a dense tapestry than the cat’s cradles he had dealt with before. Lukas worried that tugging on a misidentified segment of the ritual would make things infinitely worse. He let his arcane feelers fiddle with them, trying to discern their purpose before moving on to the rest.
The ritual had layers. Several threads regulated fuel, keeping things stable. An unstable rift was just as likely to grow instead of shrink, and he didn’t dare mess with them. A bunch of strings seemed to target the body-snatching slugs, specifically calling them to the rift from beyond. A knot of threads repelled other creatures, and another kept similar-sized entities from leaking through. One bunch connected to a ritualist on the far side of the room. It was the only one that seemed safe to tweak. Lukas tugged it one way, and suddenly a chunk of wall behind the man disappeared, seemingly erased from existence as if by Mira’s black flames.
Crap. I made the Void defense bigger.
After taking a moment to steady his thoughts, Lukas inhaled deeply before slowly releasing his breath. Then, he severed the thread. Much to his relief and delight, the ritualist connected to it exploded, and the rift lost another fifth of its original length. The darkness beyond lost some of its unnatural darkness and depth as slugs clogged the opening, the deluge slowing.
The Stormtrooper now focused all of his efforts on keeping the newly awakened possessed away and eliminating the slugs crawling toward him. They moved like fleshy waves rushing after both clones. Lukas could no longer see the Stalker; he was buried in a coiling mass. Occasional blasts of lightning gave him away. He worried that the clone would perish from suffocation if the arcane shell containing the soul fragment didn’t collapse first.
Lukas returned his attention to the ritual, seeking strings connected to the other ritualists. No slugs or Void bolts were coming from him, yet he retreated to one of the pillars, clinging to its side with Shadowsteel hooks.
At first, Lukas considered severing the knot connected to the slugs, but changed his mind. It was far too intertwined with the threads repelling other Void creatures. He couldn’t afford to have something worse come through. The body snatchers were easy to figure out and only appeared to have a handful of tricks. There was no telling how something else might behave or even bend reality.
Life got easier for the Stormtrooper when Lukas found the thread connected to the Void mage. Bolts of colorful energy bordered with black ceased to fly around the room. They had left pockmarks in the walls and even covered patches of it in an ugly fungus. The thread was harder to sever; it seemed additional defences had triggered to protect the individuals conducting the ritual. A dense stream of energy rose from below, flowing through them and into the ritual circle on the ground.
“Start a fire!” Lukas ordered, letting his voice through Silencing Shadows for a moment. He moved to a new pillar straight after, as slugs and one of the newly controlled rushed to his old spot. There was no telling if the clones had heard him or had the means to follow through. He didn’t have the time to check or dare to repeat the order.
Unfortunately for the piece of complex magic, whoever had painted the shapes and runes onto the floor was far from an expert. Imperfections had started to show, and Arcane Instinct helped to capitalize on them. He failed to find the threads connected to the remaining ritualists, but found a knot that was likely a mistake or meant to act as a layer of security for when the ritual failed.
They must have copied a text meant for humans. I doubt the slugs or Void Heart want this function to exist.
Lukas ran for the door and dispelled the clones before connecting the cluster of threads to the ritual’s energy channels. The function awakened with a loud boom. The rift twisted and coiled, wrapping itself into a sphere. Instead of expelling slugs, it began to suck them in. Lukas just about made it to the door when the attracting force got strong enough to pull him off his feet. He fired Shadowsteel tethers through the open door into the hallway beyond. The hooks attached themselves to doorframes, ceilings, and whatever else they could reach.
Lukas dared to look over his shoulder. His plan had worked. There were barely slugs left in the room. The newly body-snatched were also gone. Only the ritualists remained, and they all stood at an angle, leaning forward toward the rapidly rotating rift. Heavy wood furniture and metal chests standing along the walls flew off the ground and crumpled into the black sphere, folding as they did so. An idea formed when a book struck one of the ritualists’ shoulders instead of disappearing into thin air.
Fuck it.
Shade’s Mantle and Silencing Shadows fell. Only Psychic Protection remained active. It had kept any mental trauma the clones had suffered from reaching Lukas, and he refused to let it happen now. The largest Lightning Fire sphere Lukas had ever created manifested in front of his outstretched hand. It crackled and hummed loud enough to drown out the sound of the now roaring portal and the breaking furniture.
Instead of aiming it directly at the closest ritualist, Lukas aimed at a patch of wall to the right of the room. Much to his relief, the projectile did as he hoped. It curved as it flew, following the portal’s rotational force, spiraling inwards. The first revolution missed, flying just behind both ritualists, but the second struck the older man’s shoulder, bathing him in blinding tendrils of energy. He didn’t fall. Instead, the portal sucked him to the center of the room while shrinking further. It seemed one woman alone was not enough to support the powerful magic, and the sphere blinked out of existence. She screamed and charged at Lukas. A Shadowsteel projectile to the throat was enough to put her down.
Please tell me that was enough.
The journal manifested floating in front of Lukas. He’d been too busy and focused to feel the vibrations, but it had the words he desired.
Spellweaver has reached the Ascension threshold.
Before continuing his interaction with the journal, Lukas resummoned the dispelled clones. His headache worsened, but he didn’t care. There was work to be done, and the achievement had left him ecstatic.
“Burn this place down. I don’t care if the fire spreads or if all of the slugs and body-snatched bastards are gone. This place needs to be purged and decontaminated.”
“Got it, boss.” The clones threw up a mock salute before getting to work. The pair rushed to the offices, fetching flammable materials.
Journal. We banked one of your upgrade points, correct?
Correct.
Will it be enough to make Spellweaver’s ascension instant?
Negative.
Fucking useless relic. You suck.
Negative. I lack the necessary organs to do anything of the sort.
Did you just make a fucking joke?
Negative. I am just stating a fact.
I hate you.
“Are you going to help them below, boss?” One of the clones asked.
“I don’t want the psychic trauma,” Lukas said, palming the Psychic Protection spellscroll stored up his sleeve. Keeping the spell active was already a strain that kept him from truly relaxing. “But one of you will be joining them once you're done here.”
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“Bloody, slave driver,” the clone complained, returning to the assigned task.
It wasn’t long before the ritual room caught fire. Lukas fled the building through the trapdoor above the main staircase. One clone followed while the other descended to help the others.
_______________________
Initially, Flukas believed that his role was going to be the most fun of all the roles El-Prime had the clones play. It was a position with authority and command. What he considered a treat turned out to be more of a burden. Reining in the Stalker and Stormtrooper was already a challenge. They wanted to do their own thing, not follow directions, let alone take orders from Leisel.
Since neither of Flukas’s companions had the Spellweaver or mage specializations, they seemed to struggle to maintain Psyshic Protection. The stress from the Void Heart appeared to affect their decision-making and also slowed reaction times. He didn’t blame them. The day they had to practise the spell was far from enough. Flukas barely managed to keep the spellform from decaying in his mind’s eye. It was probably significantly harder for the others.
Chaos surrounded him, and he was glad there weren’t just the three of them taking on the army of reanimated and body-snatched. They would’ve been overrun if it were just him, the clones, Xander, and Mira.
Leisel somewhat alleviated the stress with her far-reaching, wide-area-of-effect spells. She didn’t just shake the ground or call forth spikes. Her magic also softened the ground in a wide ring around the party, trapping anything that got past Stormfire spheres, Shadowsteel projectiles, and Mira’s obstacles in the quagmire. Then, Xander swiftly took them out with his shield.
“Where in Skadi’s name is Haima?” Xander demanded, pushing forward. “We’ll never advance at this rate.”
A fleshy tentacle broke free from the ceiling and struck the shieldbearer, pushing him back. All of the heart’s eyes were focused on him, but he seemed undeterred. It wasn’t clear whether they had any effect on the man. The protection spell didn’t radiate from his skull, but Xander seemed like the type to have secret defences against psychic attacks.
Lightningfire projectiles shot from the Stormtrooper clone. They exploded along the flesh tentacle, bathing it in electric blue fire that sang songs of thousands of birds. Lightning burst at random intervals from where the flames were densest, burning the heart’s appendage. It broke off at the ceiling and crashed just outside of Leisel’s rippling ring, charred black. Orange glowed through the cracks. Flukas couldn’t tell if his fellow clone had poured extra energy into the spheres or if the Void Flesh was extra vulnerable to Lightningfire.
“There must be more of these things outside,” Leisel said through gritted teeth. “He isn’t the kind to leave companions waiting. Something must be keeping him busy.” She glanced over her shoulder at Mira. “Is your spell ready yet?”
The younger mage nodded. “But I can’t control it for long or from afar. I need to get closer before unleashing it.”
“Damn it!” Xander roared. “Someone do something. We’re never going to advance at this rate.”
The attacks were endless, coming from all around them and above. Flukas knew it had to be him who turned the tide. He was El-Prime’s stand-in, after all. The clone poured over El-Prime’s memories as it fired Shadowsteel sparks imbued with storm energy.
Knowledge regarding the Void, its Lords and Kings, was gone. However, experiences from dealing with their avatars and cults remained. All entities from the endless abyss that El-Prime had encountered had one thing in common. They were mostly static or stuck to ley lines, using energy running through the ground.
It’s not just fuel. They need the leylines to anchor their consciousnesses to reality.
The concept of leylines didn’t seem to exist on Fracture, or it wasn’t common knowledge. Neither Leisel nor Mira seemed knowledgeable on the subject. El-Prime had theorized that one ran through the mountains bordering the Gray. It was the reason they were so rich in arcane materials. They also discussed the possibility of it crossing through Reistein, hence it had magical springs and materials that enchanters and alchemists craved. El-Prime had almost confirmed his hypothesis a couple of days ago when he detected a powerful stream of magic flowing underneath his feet and further upriver. He had tried to pull threads free to push Spellweaver to its ascension threshold, but failed.
The clone was sure that the Void Lord hadn’t ended up in Reistein by accident. It had likely smelled traces of the leyline on one of the town’s passing residents and somehow tempted or lured them. The idiot, thinking he had found a treasure or something valuable, probably brought back the dormant heart to the town to show off to its friends, and slugs residing within had latched onto it. Then the heart took root and fed on the leyline’s energy to grow. It was a sound theory, and El-Prime was likely to agree with the analysis.
Now, in the basement, Flukas felt closer to the dense arcane energy than ever. His first instinct was to tap into the leyline and succeed where El-Prime had failed, and he did just that. Except that he didn’t take the magic for himself. The chances of overwhelming or overloading his arcane shell were far too high. He couldn’t afford to fall apart around the party and collapse the illusion that was Flukas. Instead, he wrestled a strand of energy free from the stream flowing into the Void Heart and connected it to the Stormtrooper.
“What is this?!” the clone exclaimed. Even though Shade’s Mantle clung to him like a film of tar, Flukas saw eyebrows rise.
“We need to advance,” Flukas said, jaws clenched. Keeping the stream from overflowing pushed his focus to the limits. Instead of fighting it, he divided the magic in half, directing part of it to the Stalker. “Go nuts.”
“What did you say?” Leisel yelled.
“Nothing,” Flukas replied, raising his voice. “I’m just talking to myself.”
“Now’s not the time—”
A massive blast of Stormfire silenced the woman. Instead of a controlled sphere, a booming stream of electric blue flame and dark clouds burst from the nearby clone and toward the Void Heart. The uncontrolled spell failed to have a far-reaching effect. However, it burned a path through the writhing flesh on the ground and the body-snatched individuals crawling over them. A sockwave of sound blew apart everything on either side.
“Why in Skadi’s name have you been holding onto that?!” Xander demande, pushing forward. The party moved forward as he advanced on the Void Lord. The eyes covering the central node went mad, moving like they were seizing.
When tentacles came from above, a hail of needles burst from the Stalker. Little pops accompanied each collision as miniature bursts of sound energy ripped through the flesh tentacles coming from above.
Walking and empowering the clones simultaneously proved a titanic effort. Flukas’s head felt like it was going to explode like whatever flesh the Stalker’s needle barrage touched. He knew for a fact that he couldn’t continue for long. The shell made of pure arcane energy and shadow magic that formed his body wouldn’t hold for long.
“How much closer, Mira?” Flukas asked, his voice shaking. “The golems will fall apart if I keep this going.”
“Just a bit more,” Mira replied, a silver bubble as big as her torso manifesting. It slowly lost its translucence as she filled it with black flames. “I can’t project this thing far. The closer we are, the better our chances.”
“Time for your last dance, boys,” Flukas whispered, unsure of whether his fellow clones heard him. “Go out in a blaze of glory.”
The Stormtrooper charged forward, pushing past the women and then Xander. A halo of Lightningfire spheres formed around him, each no bigger than a fist. The form obscured by Shade’s Mantle began to lose definition as the revolutions started, stretching and warping. The halo picked up speed until it looked like a ring. He mowed through anything that got close, cutting them in half. Lightningfire burst outwards with every collision, spreading to anything they touched. Energy danced off the flames, reaching targets even farther away. When the clone dissolved, the ring lingered for a couple of seconds, keeping the way forward clear.
Leisel capitalized on the opening, growing a wall of spikes out of the ground on either side of the path. When Xander charged down it, Mira followed. Her bubble of silver fire struggled to keep its shape, and black flames had already started to bleed through.
The Void Heart and its minions weren’t done. Few of the latter remained. They were bigger and more rotting alien flesh than human. The creatures attempted to climb over the spikes or squeeze through the gaps between them. The Stalker took them out from afar. They weren’t a threat for long. Leisel’s follow-up spell made the grounds outside of the path ripple, and anything that stepped onto them sank into the stone. It was the flesh tentacles that were the real threat.
Now that they were closer to the Void Heart, their density, speed, and power had all increased. Xander had to stick close to Mira and hold the shield above them to ward off blows. The force behind each strike slowed him, some making his knees buckle.
The Stalker stepped up his game to make things easier. Flukas stopped holding back and overloaded the clone with magic from the leyline.
“WITNESS ME!” The clone yelled, racing forward and flaring Shade’s Mantle. He jumped off the ground and used Xander’s shield to rise even higher. Darkness burst from within a wide arc toward the heart and the ceiling, twisting into over a dozen Shadow Lances. They hung in the air for a moment, lightning dancing between them and the air rippling. A deafening boom filled the basement as they launched in unison.
Flesh tore, fried, and exploded. Chunks of ceiling rained from above. Half the fleshy tentacles holding the Void Heart off the ground ripped, and it swung violently from side to side before the giant throbbing mass of twisted flesh fell. It landed on the stone floor with a sickening splat. Vile fluid splashed everything but Xander and his ward. The shield protected them as the pair rushed forward.
Mira released her spell at almost point-blank range. The silverfire blossomed, and the black spread out like a flower, not just clawing at the heart but also the mage that had spawned it. Flukas had assumed as much. As soon as the Stalker fell apart with its final attack, he released the strand of magic and chased after Mira. Much to his horror, he was too slow.
Shadow tethers descended from above, wrapped around the woman’s waist. They pulled her off the ground, over the spikes, and to a pillar above. It was another stalker. El-Prime had sent backup.
