Unbound

Chapter One Hundred and Fifty Five - 155

Chapter One Hundred and Fifty Five - 155

Mervin Cors was on Wall duty.

He'd been on Wall duty for the past few weeks, ever since that man had jumped outta the Foglands. He was told it was punishment, but Mervin was more than happy to stay on this side of the Wall. Where it was safe.

Safe from the Inquisitors, at least.

He'd been hounded by a lot of people, Guilders at first but then the Inquisition, all asking about Felix. Who was he? Where had he come from? What could he do? Mervin didn't like the attention at all. He answered the questions as best he could, but none of his words seemed to satisfy the Acolytes, and they had started to get angry. For servants of the Pathless, they did not take his ignorance well at all.

They had pressed him, hard. Asked him a thousand questions in a thousand different ways, using words that befuddled him despite his rigorous education. He'd learned all his letters well before he was ten, and his math wasn't too bad. But the Acolytes looked at him like he was an idiot.

Worthless.

Not even his revelation about the glowing obelisk was enough to sate them. Sure, at first they were pleased, but after a week they returned with more questions. Queries about Mana and blood and things which a former ploughman knew nothing about. And now, he was hearing rumors of some fighting between the Guilders and Inquisition, though he didn't put much stock in it. Servants of the holy Pathless wouldn't engage in such foul business, he was sure.

Regardless, he was happy to be out of all of it, whatever might be going on. Ironically, up here he found a place to relax.

"I think they're gone for now," Piotr said with his steady baritone. "Mervin, Lars, Garin, rest up. Lettl, Davik, Oren, stay sharp."

Suppressing a groan, Mervin allowed himself to sink to the carved stone bench built into the Wall, one of hundreds along the length of the defensive construct. It sat behind a wide crenellation, heavily protected from anything attacking the outside of the city, the perfect place to rest when your stint atop the Wall stretched long into the night. The sun was just about to set, but Mervin had been on his feet since mid-morning, having taken a double shift from another Tin Rank. Anything to stay up there, away from the questions.

"Wave's been gettin' stronger. Those last bugs had weird metal on em. Like steel, almost," Lars said with a strained grunt. He'd been on the same shift as Mervin all day.

"Steel bugs? You been drinking again, Lars?" Garin asked with a grin.

"Shut it," Lars groused. "I saw it."

"Calm down. It ain't nothing we can't handle," Piotr said. "And I saw it too, Garin. You callin' me a drunk?"

"Sir, no sir," Garin lazily saluted.

Mervin glanced nervously at the older Piotr, but the man just rolled his eyes and kept watching the tree line. He was in charge, their senior but still another Tin Rank. He didn't have the authority to do much to Garin. Ranks were spread thin since the bugs had gotten through the wards weeks back.

"What if Tier Two's show up again?" Melvin asked, voicing the worry that ate at him. He felt safe from the Inquisition up here, but the monsters were getting stronger. Lars was right about that.

"That's what the Bronze're for," Piotr said, nodding at several women tinkering with metal styluses on the red-metal parapets. Shimmering symbols flashed beneath their markings as each worked quickly to repair damaged sections of the walls. They were all preternaturally beautiful, a symptom of Tempering themselves into Apprentice Tier. The bronze medallions hanging from their chests meant they were likely close to Journeyman too, and their assured competence at their craft was clearly evident.

"You think they can fix it? They've been at it for hours," Lars asked.

"They're Bronze," Garin said by way of explanation as he leaned back, his eyes closed. "Elder Spirit's got em trained on those scripts. Wouldn't be out here if they didn't know their stuff."

Bronze. It seemed an impossibly far chasm to cross to Mervin. Still at level eleven, he'd failed to raise any of his Skills beyond level twenty, let alone Temper himself with them. His one saving grace was his extremely high Perception for his level, a stat that had saved his life several times by that point. But it wasn't enough. He didn't have the Strength to destroy a Skink with a single punch, or the Skill to disappear in plain sight and knock out an Acolyte with lightning.

He was no Felix, whoever or whatever he had been.

"Can't believe the monsters damaged the script so bad," Melvin said. "Thought this Wall was indestructible?"

"Ain't been fixed right since the incursion a few weeks back," Lars said. "Been patching it up nightly ever since. But like I said, those bugs're gettin' stronger. I know it. Soon we won't be able to hold em back."

"Easy Lars," Piotr said fixing the two of them with his steely glare. For all that their Rank was the same, Mervin felt like a bug himself when Piotr looked at him in that way. "The Wall will hold. To say otherwise could be considered insubordination, yeah?"

Lars' mouth shut with a clack of teeth, and Mervin felt a frown start to form on his face. Piotr was agitated far more than normal. Because of the rumors? They'd all heard the booms and felt the ground tremble earlier that day, but patrols had told them not to worry about it, that the Elders were handling it.

Is he worried about the Inquisition? Surely he doesn't believe that--

Someone stood beside him.

With a start, Mervin found a short and slender man in cream robes standing within an arms-length. He was older, his hair and goatee silvered, but looked to be a youthful forty years old. A strange artifact was in his hand, like a flask of some sort, leaking a glowing, rust-colored steam.

What in the world--?

"Elder Teine!"

First one, then all of the Bronze Guilders snapped to attention as they saw the slender man. Mervin was so surprised by the speed of their movements that it took him an entire five seconds to register that he was looking directly at the Elder of Spirit in the Protector's Guild.

"You, you, and you, come with me." He ordered, his eyes never ceasing their movement. Yet the Elder wasn't looking at the Wall or the Foglands, but into the city itself.

"Sir, we're not finished. The sigaldry is incom-"

A terrible aura pressed down on the Bronze Rank, so skillfully accurate that Mervin barely felt the shivering echoes of it's force. Lars gaped like a fish, noticing the man for the first time. The Bronze Guilders, however could barely stand under his gaze. There was a feverish intensity to him that Mervin found upsetting. "Do not question me."

"Y-yes, sir."

Swiftly, the Elder and all of the scripters left the Wall, speeding down the interior stairs at a clip Mervin's eyes couldn't follow. They had gone so fast that a few of them had even left their metal styluses.

"What in Yyero's blighted backside was that about?" Garin asked, his rest apparently disrupted by the Elder's abrupt passage. "Can't a man get a few winks anymore?"

A bell sounded from down the Wall, before being echoed above their position as well. With a groan repeated by a hundred others atop the Wall, Garin lurched back to his feet.

"Monsters, incoming!"

Mervin stood up as well, Lars close behind him. The forest of lethwood trees and other, more exotic lumber had begun to shake and quiver. His sharp eyes picked out a small horde of six legged Wretches, their rear ends clearly coated in a dull metallic grey.

"Time to fight, Merv," Lars said as he slipped on his boiled leather helmet. "Let's kill some bugs."

Mervin smiled back at the man, but his insides were tight and cramping. He repeated his mantra.

Be like Felix. Be like Felix. Be like Felix.

He wasn't sure, but Mervin liked to believe that helped.

Slowly, the team climbed down the rocky decline of the Larval Ravager's tunnel.

Situated at the center of the broken tower, the tunnel dropped nearly fifty feet that accumulated debris turned into the most treacherous of ramps. Atar and Alister had the worst time of it, helping each other carefully navigate the shifting earth, while Evie and Vess ghosted right passed them. Evie altered her density until she practically floated to the bottom, while Vess used a combination of her Dragoon's Footwork and spearwork to negotiate the terrain. Harn was much more blunt, but perhaps even faster. He had just leaped over it all, letting his body coast the last few feet atop jagged stone chips the size of a car.

Felix, of course, utilized Unfettered Volition. His steps were sure and quick, easily keeping pace with the two women. But more importantly, giving Harn his space.

Felix had told the warrior everything. Everything. The man had taken it better than Felix had expected; he hadn't lashed out in anger, or retreated in disgust. Harn had merely walked away, his face hidden behind his armor, though his internal rhythms suggested his emotions were in turmoil. Conflicted, and worried.

Admittedly, it's a lot to take in.

Instead, Harn had addressed them all and broken down their plan. They were going to enter the tunnel and make their way to the Domain Core. From that point on, the plan was to destroy the Domain Core and stop all the creatures it spawned. A seemingly simple plan, were they to ignore the level disparity between their group and the monsters.

No one had a better idea. Well, running would have been a good idea, but they'd committed.

So on they went. The first few miles beneath the earth were relatively unremarkable. The smell of loam and damp earth pervaded their senses. Felix's Manasight was filled with dusty-brown Mana swirled with the grey-black of shadow and the green-gold of life Mana, all of it mingling somehow chaotically. Unpredictably.

Evie signed to him, and Felix nodded. They'd chosen to use handsign to communicate once in the tunnel, since they couldn't be sure how far sound would carry. Felix caught Harn's attention at the front of the group and repeated the signs.

Harn slipped ahead.

Evie asked, but Felix just shook his head. He wasn't having that conversation in handsign. He might have gotten better at it by memorizing the forms, but he lacked the nuance needed for an explanation as heavy as the Maw. And frankly, he really didn't want to, not after Harn's reaction.

Pit nudged his leg, their bond warming in comfort. Felix smiled back at the tenku, but his eyes drifted once more to where Harn had disappeared beyond a bend in the tunnel. A full twenty minutes later, Harn crept back into sight.

Harn signed.

Vess signed. She motioned for Atar and Alister to come closer.

Both nodded.

Ten minutes later, Felix found himself down the tunnel and hiding behind a rock larger than his first apartment. Alister was next to him, fiddling with the hilt of his rapier. Vess had laid out quite the comprehensive attack plan, and the two of them were to start things off.

In the near distance, a gaggle of Spawn swarmed over each other, like desperate scavengers. Felix couldn't make out what they were so excited about, and he was certain he didn't want to know. Instead he could feel them pulse against his sense of Affinity, their endless hunger so much more clearer than Harn's own mixed feelings to Felix.

From across the tunnel, he saw the signal.

A deluge of fire arced from Atar, hidden across the tunnel, spraying like a firehose upon the gathered Spawn. Beside Felix, Alister tensed and jabbed his elegant rapier into the air. A series of five foot columns descended from the sky, each hitting the group with the force of a speeding dumptruck. The Spawn were filled with a sudden rage and fear that oriented in their general direction. Felix felt his connection to them thrum as they communed in some sort of...hive mind. As one, they charged.

Stone Shaping!

Flaring the Skill, Felix grabbed at the rocky floor across the entire breadth of the tunnel. It was a tactic that would not have worked only a few hours ago; but now, with his Mana over three thousand, he had power to spare. The ground turned to sludge before dropping away completely as the first of the Spawn hit the trench, sending them toppling down below. The sudden thirty foot drop was not nearly as brutal as the six-foot long sharpened spikes at the bottom.

You Have Killed A Spawn of Hunger (x17)!

XP Earned!

Stone Shaping is level 31!

Stone Shaping is level 32!

The Spawn didn't halt at all, the trench forming too quickly to avoid and their hive-mind/herd mentality too dim to make on the fly decisions. For all their advanced levels, the Spawn were exceptionally stupid beasts.

Not true for the ones that followed. The Knights of Hunger.

Huge and hulking, they were easily fifteen feet tall and about ten feet wide. An avalanche of muscle and fat, they were vaguely humanoid, covered in a similar patchwork of rust-red scales and sickly yellow flesh, and like all Primordial-Spawn their faces were devoid of anything save wide, drooling maws.

The Knights leaped over the trench, treading atop a number of lesser Spawn in their run ups, and landed hard enough to depress the stony soil. They were met immediately with potent orbs of flame and pinpoint strikes of needling kinetic force. The two Knights put up their hands defensively, only for both of them to be lashed by smoking white chains from the ground beneath. Purple-white Mana steamed around them as the Knights bellowed their fury, tearing their limbs free with a minor effort.

But not in time for either of them to avoid three spears a piece striking them directly in the teeth.

The explosion of air Mana rocked the Knights back, throwing one of them prone, and tore gaping, bloody holes in their faces and throats. If they were Human, the fight would have been over. But they had all fought them before, and Felix knew their kind better than most.

Unfettered Volition!

Felix raced out of cover, Harn following a split second after. Of the two of them, Felix was far faster and reached his Knight before Harn had crossed half the distance. Flaring a number of Skills at once, he unleashed hard.

Influence of the Wisp!

Shadow Whip!

Reign of Vellus!

A Knight of Hunger (x2) is Enthralled for 10 Seconds!

Hurling his hands forward, Felix enveloped both of the Knights in wisplight, and the hungry fire began eating them alive. Unable to let that be all, Felix summoned a blackened whip of darkness and brought it smashing down from above, shattering the Knight's arm as it tried to manifest spikes of bone along its length. The arm was forced into the creature's gut by the whip first and then by the wave of kinetic energy that slammed into it like a hydraulic hammer. Blood spurted sideways, gallons of it, and lightning crawled across the immobile monstrosity.

You Have Killed A Knight of Hunger!

XP Earned!

Influence of the Wisp is level 32!

Influence of the Wisp is level 33!

Shadow Whip is level 30!

Felix started toward the second Knight when an axe blazing with silver Mana tore into its chest. He took a step back and looked as Harn jogged the rest of the way, and retreived his weapon.

"Damn, kid. You're a lot faster than before. Is all that from levelin' up?" Harn said, wicking the blood from his axe.

"That and my new Body. I'm a lot more...dense now, I guess." Felix shook his head. "This shouldn't have felt so easy."

"Be glad it did. We could use a little easy. It's only gonna get harder from here." Harn fixed Felix with a contemplative gaze. "I get why you didn't tell us before. About the Maw. Bein' as you are what you are, not knowin' how we'd react...I get it. But from now on, I'm gonna need you ta trust me. Battlin' without knowin' yer allies' capabilities is like fightin' blind and deaf. Easy way ta die."

Felix clenched his jaw, fighting down his first instinct to mention his Blind Fighting Skill, before nodding. "I think I can do that. I trust you, Evie, and Vess."

"Not Atar or the noble welp, huh?" Harn asked, a smile in his voice. "Don't fully blame ya there."

"Atar's alright, but I'd rather Oathbind him than take chances." Felix shook his head. "They're--"

"What is that?"

Felix turned to look at Atar who was jogging up to them. The man pointed beyond the trench Felix had made, to where the Primordial-Spawn had been congregating. Feeding. Glimmers of light shone through the gloom of the tunnel, as if something had been etched along the wall of it. A spike of pain wormed across his brain as Felix looked, and he noticed for the first time a slight pulsing in the ambient Mana all around them. It was very faint, like music heard from rooms away, but there it was.

"It-it's the same as your pages! The same as the Butcher!" Atar crowed and sped toward the lights. Quickly, Felix reversed a portion of his trench, the earth reforming breaths before the fire mage rushed across it. "Sigils, Alister! Felix! Sigils!"