Unbound

Chapter Four Hundred And Five – 405

Chapter Four Hundred And Five – 405

Thankfully, Felix's gamble paid off. With Beef walking so close to him, the extremely sophisticated sequence of arrays lit with power...but ultimately didn't distinguish the Minotaur from the welcomed Primordial. Hallow was a different story: the Risen that the spirit controlled simply waltzed through the path, and the arrays didn't even flicker.

Like they're part of the Tomb, Felix realized. There must be a lingering connection to the Lair.

He flared his Affinity, Manasight, Oathbinding, and Cardinal Flame. The Harmonic stat and three Skills all activated in different ways, a rousing song of brass and woodwinds that faded into haunting, whispered melodies. He'd learned over the weeks that while each of them afforded a piece of insight into the workings of the Grand Harmony, all together they were far more powerful. Strings of light extended from every being and object in Felix's line of sight. Everything. The ground, the arrays, Beef, and Felix, and the clothes they wore. The air itself.

It was too much. Felix pulled back, lowering the vibrations of his Skills with his Affinity and tweaking his Intent. The song shifted, almost imperceptibly, and he nearly lost the Chant. Felix fumbled with it all, but grasped the bare edge of control.

Manasight is level 68!

Oathbinding is level 44!

The threads of connection faded as his concentration narrowed. Oathbinding showed him vows, willingly given or coerced, and aside from the silver threads that spun off from himself there were none present. Manasight traced the flows of power, and Mana was a near-physical manifestation of the Grand Harmony itself...and was omnipresent. He turned that down, pushing away the bits that didn't matter like the air and shadows around them. Cardinal Flame was internal and external Mana control, so tweaking those swirling clouds of Mana around him was easier...though when the Mana wasn't his it was still quite hard, no matter his Willpower and Intent scores. Finally, Affinity was sensing those connections between all things, focused mostly on living creatures. Inanimate objects were harder to detect in many ways. Only with Adamant Discord did he have an easier time, yet that was focused on things that had a connection to himself, not those that existed with others.

Slowly, lines of flickering light manifested around the Risen undead. Thick bonds of blackened-green light trailed to Beef, but thinner bonds extended off into the darkened tunnels. Somewhere deeper.

Primordial bound in some minor way. I'll keep an eye on them.

"Do I got something on my face?" Beef asked.

Felix smiled, but shook his head and continued on.

On the second trap, Felix lingered again, this time studying the web of labyrinthine arrays. Like the complexities of his Seat and Seal, these appeared almost as fractals of sigaldry, too dense and complicated to be broken down by his level of Skill. While Beef stood nearby, sweating at the possibility of imminent death (this one seemed to drop vats of sizzling acid), Felix used his perfect recall to try and preserve as much of what he was seeing as possible.

The arrays weren't just ignoring Beef, but Felix was being given some sort of higher priority. So Beef's proximity to Felix meant the traps didn't go off, so as to prevent the "welcome" Primordial from being caught in the cross fire. That was all well and good, and made sense for a sophisticated security systemthe real question was why? Why build the Tomb like this at all? If this was the tomb of some long lost royal family, as Karys had suggested, then why was a Primordialof all thingsallowed to walk in, unharmed?

Answers weren't forthcoming. Trap after trap met them, many with dead Paladins scattered about their circumference. A few were no longer functional due to the walls and floor getting melted to slag. As Felix couldn't even affect the high Tier stone with his shaping Skill, that meant there were some real powerhouses among the Paladins. It was unsurprising if unwelcome news.

After his initial scare, Beef quickly regained his confidence as they progressed down the darkened halls. What's more, every time he found a mostly in-tact Paladin corpse he would raise them as part of his horde. The growing sea of blackened-green eye-lights was haunting as it followed them, but Beef was getting more and more excited with every Risen added.

"Necromancy is OP, for real. Instant army? I mean, c'mon! Like, you're strong but you can't be everywhere. Hallow can," Beef said proudly.

"I am legion, but I cannot be everywhere Michael," the nearest Risen said in that echoing female voice.

"It's Beefhammer, Hallow."

"Of course, Michael."

Conversations went like that for the most partBeef supplying both sides as they moved forward as fast as they could. The Paladins might not have been too far away, but they had an unknown lead and unknown goal. Down here, in a tomb where a Primordial clearly lurked...Felix couldn't let them do as they wished. The last Primordial he'd dealt with had caused enough trouble to ravage the Void and Haarwatch with what he now knew as its flesh curse. This new one was doing the same with its Wraiths, but how much more damage could it do if it were free to use more of its power?

I don't even know if it's locked up or restrained here, but that would track. Maybe the Nym made this place too. Felix hadn't seen any architecture or details that would indicate the Nym's particular aesthetic, but the traps were similar at least.

Eventually the tunnel of traps ended. There had been over thirty of them still functioning, and forty including the one's someone had turned to melted lumps of rock. All told it was an intense introduction to a place that did not want visitors...and yet as they exited the wide mouth of the tunnel, they were greeted with a huge, spacious cavern filled with warm light.

"Holy crap," Beef said quietly. "There's a whole city here."

Felix agreed with that assessment. Filling the bottom of the miles-wide cavern was a literal city with hundreds, if not thousands of buildings spreading in all directions. The tunnel had exited perhaps fifty feet above the level of the city below, and a switchback roadway led down into the confusing warren of streets. More fascinating than that, however, was that every inch of cavern wall was filled to the brim with Mana crystals. Huge stalactites and stalagmites of brilliantly blue, brown, and golden crystals hung from the ceilings and jutted up between towering stone buildings at least thirty feet tall. It was hard to tell the scale of them, but in some places the crystals had grown completely around structures, trapping them like flies in amber. The cavern was like the inside of a geode, except a geode that blazed with multi-hued light.

"The Mana here is...intense," Hallow observed. Pit trilled in agreement and stepped out of Felix's Spirit once again, stretching his huge wings.

Air Mana is being strangled by water and earth and life, Pit said, flexing his wings again. Flight will be hard.

Through the weaving streets, shimmering crystals, Felix's eyes picked up a distinct flare of orange-gold light. A combination of Mana that he'd seen many times.

Manasight is level 69!

"Paladins," he said, pointing. "I can see them making their way across the city."

"To where?" Beef asked. His eyes were as wide as his dropped jaw, still taking in the breadth of everything.

"That's what we're here to find out," Felix explained, before looking down the path. "Can't fly, so let's hustle. How fast can your Risen move, and more importantly, can they be quiet?"

"Define quiet."

Great. "Just follow me then," Felix muttered.

Abyssal Skein!

The Void crawled out of Felix's core space, slipping through his channels and Mana Gates like a cold oil. Felix flared the Skill, pushing more and more of its effect outward, extending it along the connections Felix had established with them all. His Skein slithered over their Bodies, blending them into the environment. The Void acted as a thin barrier that faded them from the Corporeal Realm entirely.

"Ugh, that feels gross," Beef complained, before blinking. "Why is everything all weird colored?"

"An effect of my...magic stealth," Felix explained. "Deal with it, it'll keep us hidden so long as you don't make too much noise." He looked up, back at the bobbing motes of Mana. Without another word, he quickly walked down the path and into the light.

Ahkestria was in an uproar.

The devastation of the Council Rotunda was hard to hide, as half the grounds were on fire and the other half was flooded by what seemed a large pond's worth of water. People were in the streets, staring at the destruction and gossiping worriedly about it all. Disciples in golden robes travelled the thoroughfares, loudly proclaiming the news like a Lord's crier, passing out trite assurances that all was well and the criminals responsible for this act of terror were being hunted.

"...even now are patrolling your neighborhoods to keep everyone safe! Fear not! For these vile villains will be brought to justice! And should you see any that are suspicious, please report them to your nearest Temple Knight!" the Disciple hollered in an impressive single breath. "Be at ease! The Masters and Matrons are here to protect you all!"

Vess watched the man retreat down another street, starting his spiel over again. She had seen him and others doing the same all afternoon, each one intent on soothing the riled fears of the rich and powerful. Few among the gossiping masses were less than Apprentice Tier, only those wearing the garb of servants or handmaidens. They were a touch weaker than those of Pax'Vrell, but then not every Territory was as martially focused as her own.

The Masters and Matrons more than make up for their lack, Vess thought with a grimace. She still had several burns from her fight against the Knights and Matron earlier that day.

She ghosted through the streets, her Dragoon's Footwork proving its worth to avoid any eyes on the packed boulevards. Sticking to alleyways and rooftops, she swiftly made her way back to a small mansion in the heart of the merchant lords district, where soaring walls were heavily studded with Mana crystals and gilded in loud displays of wealth. It was all pointless pageantry to Vess, who saw it as a bluff at true power, especially after learning more about the mining operations in the deeper layers.

Merchants grown fat from the efforts of others, Masters and Matrons that rule by discarding the weak as pawns and disposable sacrifices. Vess spat, something she normally found repulsive, yet couldn't restrain herself. She felt as if the foul nature of this place was seeping into her by simply walking among their self-centered nobility. Power was earned, not taken. That was the lynchpin of her father's teachings, and how he expected the people of Pax'Vrell conduct themselves. Not even Haarwatch was as bad as this....

Yet as Vess slipped into the darkened grounds of a shuttered mansion, she remembered DuFont and the other Guild Elders and what they were willing to do for power. About the Archon. And even a few passing snippets of courtiers from her home, those who attempted to curry favor with her father. The powerful chased power, and it...it matters little to many of them how they achieve it.

The admission had the heiress clenching her jaw. She was not interested in continuing such practices, no matter their form. When she returned to Pax'Vrell, she would see that such things were stamped out.

Vess passed two guards, hidden in a dark alcove by the mansion's rear entrance. She flashed coded handsign, and they did not move as she ducked under the overgrown thicket hiding a thick, warded door. Vess slipped inside.

The Chanter Isla had established this safehouse for situations such as this. It had once belonged to a family of merchants, but they had died some years ago and it was now handled by a trust. A trust that was solely operated by the Chanter. Vess had been impressed when they had first arrived, and that feeling only deepened when she discovered the place was large enough to hold the rescued prisoners, their allies, and feed them all for at least a few days. Now, after spending much of the afternoon scouting the city and Temple, Vess was simply happy to have a bed to rest upon. Eventually.

For now, she had to report.

"We still didn't get everyone. Some of those Knights talked. More are bein' held in the Temples. Another couple thousand," Evie was saying as Vess entered the spacious parlor room. The windows were boarded up and two head-sized, golden Mana crystals gave off enough light to see by, but they were dim as candles. The core of their team were spread around the room: Evie, Atar, Alister, Zara, Darius, Harn, and even the Faun Fiammetta. The one addition was the slender blonde woman with a coronet atop her brow. "How're we gonna get them out?"

"I don't know that we can, or should," the blonde woman said.

"What?" Atar asked in surprise. He frowned at the Chanter. "You would leave these people to be sacrificed?"

"My priority, the concern of our Order, is to save the entire Continent. I do not care for one small city, not when lingering jeopordizes my mission," she said, her hawk-like nose lifted as if in challenge. Isla stared around the room, meeting all of their eyes without fear. "My mission lies below us. Safe, for now. I think we should retreat and leave Ahkestria to deal with its own issues."

Vess took a measured breath. Isla had told them that Felix was alive and safebut injured. He was down in the lowest layers of the city, hidden in another safehouse with the other Unbound they had come to find. Ostensibly, their mission had been fulfilled: they had found the Minotaur and he was safe from the Paladins. But that was before they learned of the Council's strange plan, and the Paladin's part in it all.

"I do not think this will end here. What the Paladins are attempting...apart from its consequences, I wonder at the why of it," Vess said. Eyes turned to her, and Evie grinned. "They do nothing without a purpose, and their aid is never free. What is the Hierocracy getting out of this? We are missing something, and before we can leave we must find out what."

"The Hierocracy, foul as it is, is a simple beast. It wants power, and it will do whatever it can to claim it," Isla said dismissively. "I am affronted that they dared attack a sister of my Order, aghast that they intend to harm so many people, but the Choices before us are simple: Either we flee with what victory we can grasp...or we all die here in a pointless conflict, leaving two Unbound to the mercies of the Continent."

"Pointless?" Vess asked. She felt her face flushing with heat, but she didn't care. "We would be stopping an injustice perpetrated on the weak and Untempered. If our strength is not meant to serve others, to protect them, then what is the point of it?"

The Chanter scoffed. "You have a lot to learn about the world, Your Grace. Pax'Vrell is an exception to the standards of the Continent."

"Isla," Zara warned in a sharp tone.

The blonde Chanter pouted. "Fine. Then have your suicidal assault. I shall"

"Be at our side, to provide your powerful healing," Zara smoothly interrupted. "As expected of one of our Order."

Isla only frowned and mumbled something to herself.

Zara continued, her voice a rising swell that carried the conversation along. "Thanks to our scouts we have learned a few things about our enemy. The Paladins are holding people, operating under High Justiciar Haim and his second, Captain Boldt. They are both Masters, which is another challenge, with all the rest of the Paladins operating as Journeyman under two or three Adept officers. There are thirty Paladins, two companies, and while that is concerning it is less than I had feared."

Harn shook his head. "Paladin's ain't no joke to fight. Those idiots in the Pass posed us all a challenge, but they were the rank and file. Now we're facing their elite. That's not a fight I want to take on without a solid plan. Anyone got one of those?"

Evie shrugged and ticked off points on her fingers. "Storm the Temple, free the prisoners, take a piss in the big fire, run."

Harn chuckled.

"I don't care who is arrayed against us. I need to know why the Highest Flame is condoning this," Atar said. Alister's arm was threaded through the fire mage's, as if both were drawing support from one another. "Why is my masterwhy is Kel'lyv doing this?"

"The Highest Flame, ah, she has always required to consume things to grow stronger," the Faun Disciple said. "She is That Which Burns, it is the truth of Her being. Things that have power, people mostly, have um, historically been the most able to strengthen Her. The pacts She makes with individuals supports Her through lean times, but not if they are not advancing."

"And people don't advance much in this city, I take it," Vess said.

Fiammetta nodded. "We hunt the wastes, but it is hazardous to face the Cursewinds even in a large group. What's more, the undead hurt the Flame. The few hunts that have been organized have lost people and...and a curse turned them into more undead slaves for the Cursewinds."

"The Dustborn curse." Zara said.

"Yes. You know it. Of course, you faced the undead." Fiammetta's head tilted, curiously. "But none of your people perished. How?"

"Felix," Isla said, and Zara's gaze sharpened. Isla waved off the woman's icy glare. "Don't look at me like that. It's a simple enough deduction."

"Felix?" Fiammetta asked. "Who is that?" Her eyes widened. "You mean that man? That monster that conquered a Lost Territory? He's here?"

Zara gave Isla another acidic look before regaining control of the conversation. "That is neither here nor there. What is interesting is the undead are affecting the Urge by eroding its support system. But that would hardly seem to be enough. A creature as old and as powerful as the Highest Flame subsists on more than a few pacts with mortals."

Fiammetta spread her hands as if in apology. "I truly do not know. There are a great many secrets I was not privy toowould not be, not until I become a Matron. Which is...which is not likely to happen, anymore."

"Yeah, super sad. Anyway, let's keep planning." Evie snapped her fingers and pointed at Zara. "What about the Primordial? Can we use that somehow?"

"What?" Isla stood, alarm writ large across her fine features. "What Primordial? Where?"

"A Primordial is behind the undead," Atar said. He tilted his head to the side. "Didn't you know?"

"IHow? The Primordials are gone," Isla insisted. She looked to Zara. "What are they talking about."

Zara pursed her lips in thought. "An idea that might hold merit. Vess, please give Harn and Darius the route you plotted to the Temple. Isla, Atar, Alister, and Fiammetta: come with me. The rest of you, get some rest and prepare yourselves." Zara regarded them all with her ice blue eyes, as if she were weighing them one by one. "The ritual is to take place at dawn, and we will be moving well before that." Zara left, trailed by those she had named.

Vess took another, slow breath before motioning Harn and Darius close.