ImmovableMage
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111 Pass the Wastes
🕑 Added 2022-11-19 01:02:01 +0000 UTC– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 216, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 32 –
Terry somersaulted in the sky and hurled a spray canister at the pursuing flock of hellions. The canister transfixed in the air and the weight propelled by inertia caused a mist of darkwater to disperse over the hellspawn.
“Screee!” The hellions screeched in pain.
Terry activated the divine hammer inscription and several layers of shattered mana later, he jumped to distance himself further from the debilitated creatures.
Terry had learned quickly that his transfixed throwing needles or his skewer box did not work as well against the hellspawn with their frustrating ichor-aspected recovery abilities.
“Phew…” Terry inwardly heaved a sigh of relief. His mana consumption had balanced out again, now that he could rely on the divine hammer inscription for movement. His biggest remaining worry was that his sleep deprivation and lack of proper food were certain to destroy that fragile balance in the foreseeable future.
Well, perhaps not the ‘biggest’ worry…
Terry glanced anxiously to his left, where countless hellspawn were roaming around. He had been lucky that no other hellspawn species that was capable of flight had appeared, but the commotion created by the hellions that were pursuing him drew out a vast number of hellspawn along the way.
Terry’s stomach had plummeted into the abyss the first time he had detected an ascarab slithering over the earth with its torso lifted up. An ascarab was an advanced hellspawn that looked like a human-sized worm with two arm-like limbs, a protective beetle carapace at its torso, and a ring of sharp teeth at the end of its head.
In the Path of a Mage, Terry had read about magical folks that looked like snake humanoids. The way the ascarabs slithered over the earth was exactly how Terry imagined these folks to move.
The ascarabs shared an aspect with the behemoths, which had been dubbed the devouring aspect. While the behemoths focused on devouring mana and matter, the ascarabs devoured souls.
Terry counted his blessings when the ascarab showed no inclination to get closer to him and moved parallel to Terry’s own path instead.
The second advanced hellspawn species that nearly gave Terry a heart attack was the appearance of a pharoh. This was a bipedal, scaled creature with four arms and the head of a crocodile. Their most terrifying trait was an affinity to another hellspawn aspect: miasma. Even getting close to a pharoh would be like bathing in diluted darkwater.
Unfortunately, the pharoh had not been as disinterested as the ascarab. Instead, it had mounted a behemoth and was now riding the gigantic six-legged creature in pursuit of Terry.
Fortunately, Terry could exploit the acidic, orange body of water whenever there was a danger of the behemoth getting too close. As such, Terry's combat clashes were mostly limited to hellion confrontations, which Terry still dealt with successfully up to now.
Probably not for long though…
“Shut up!” hissed Terry through gritted teeth. He ignored his intrusive thoughts and pushed forward through the sky above the hellspawn hive.
Terry did not know if he should count himself lucky or not. On the one hand, he mainly had to deal with hellions, and these were creatures he could handle. On the other hand, they also had some means of tracking him, even when he cloaked his mana and wore his enchanted concealment ring.
Related to their screeching or antennae, maybe?
Terry shook his head slightly while rushing forward without rest. After several hours, Terry narrowed his eyes when he sensed a change in mana signatures on the way ahead.
Undead again? Have I reached the end of the hellspawn territory? Wait…
Terry subconsciously sped up.
Are those folk signatures? So many? A battle?
Terry furrowed his brow. He contemplated what to do and continued on his path.
***
Terry nearly messed up the activation of his divine hammer inscription when he could finally get a visual confirmation of the folk signatures he had perceived with his mana sense.
The thing that took Terry aback was that the people engaging the undead were clearly all wearing the same colors. Even at the current distance, this fact stood out among the green glow of the death aura creatures and the dark hills behind. All of these people were wearing silver.
Terry squinted and clenched his fists. He recalled that this silver was the color of Tiv’s army uniforms. His thoughts became muddled. Blood rushed to Terry’s head and anger towards Tiv was welling up.
Terry remembered how Megumi and Lizzy had talked about how Tiv stopped performing army patrols through the Wasted Zone, leaving the wasters to fend for themselves.
Terry recalled the tragic stories from Syn City. Abandoned wasters like Olivienne, who turned herself into a skeletal warrior in order to protect her baby son.
Terry remembered Yancey, who had spoken up for Lizzy because of her grandfather, who was trying to reestablish the patrols. Yancey had learned magic to protect his family, and he had been killed by pursuing mage hunters for daring to learn magic without permission. The death mage had hatefully berated Tiv for abandoning the wasters while always finding personnel to go after unsanctioned mages.
Without him being aware of it, Terry’s breathing accelerated and his blood pumped faster and faster through his veins. He checked his current location and trajectory with his five-point inscription ring and the act made him remember something else.
Northeast.
Terry remembered how many people had alluded to a mysterious deployment of Tiv troops in the northeast, how that was one reason why the patrols had been stopped.
When Terry recalled one person in particular, hatred welled up further. The Preacher, too, had once complained about such a thing. The Preacher who had also plotted against Arcana’s barrier. The Preacher who had set all the things in motion that led to Isille being hurt and to Terry being in this mess. The Preacher who had been elected minister for the Tiv Empire.
After thinking of the Preacher, Terry’s mind moved towards Ava, who had brought her division of cultist soldiers to threaten Syn City.
Inevitably, Terry’s mind reached Bright Willow. Willow, who had killed Sigille. Willow, who had threatened his whaka. Willow, who had been elevated to a position of power in the Tiv Empire.
Terry involuntarily thought of Harrison, who had occasionally worn his own silver army uniform. Harrison, whom Terry had once considered a friend until he chose to side with Willow. Harrison, whom Terry had killed because he had chosen to be a threat to Terry's whaka.
Soldiers that chose to work for the Tiv Empire…
One by one, Terry’s exhausted mind was bringing up reasons to hate the Tiv Empire and the soldiers that chose to follow its orders.
Abandoning those that need protection.
Orders.
Hounding those that try to protect themselves.
Orders.
Following orders, no matter how despicable.
Orders.
I believe in choices…
Terry stared forward with fierce eyes and he growled: “You’re no innocent villagers.”
Orders.
Blame the people that brought the Wastes to Arcana. If it hadn’t been for the Preacher and his co-conspirators, I wouldn’t be here either.
Orders.
I’m sure the Preacher would order you to fight these creatures behind me as well.
Terry exchanged his five-point inscription ring with the enchanted concealment ring, which they had looted from the bandits. He jumped higher up into the sky without changing course.
Terry was dashing rapidly towards the clash between the undead horde and the Tiv soldiers. A trail of hellions was following behind Terry in the air. Another large swarm of hellspawn was following on the ground below.
In a corner of Terry’s weary mind, a seed of curiosity was growing behind the immediate danger of the situation. He could not help but wonder exactly what the Tiv Empire considered so important to have so many strong soldiers deployed to this location while citizens were suffering all around the Wasted Zone without a single soldier present to protect them.
After another hour of running madly, Terry could sense the hellspawn below tearing into the mid-sized horde of undead. The behemoth with the pharoh on its back had even broken through directly to the Tiv soldiers. Terry continued forward and used the opportunity to kill the group of hellions that were still on his tail. Now that there were other targets in the area, it was unlikely that more hellions would follow anytime soon.
Terry jumped circles around the creatures while slashing fiercely at them with his spears. His barrier spears were great for blocking the incoming ranged attacks, but they were not so great for killing the hellions due to the hellspawn's ichor-aspected recovery abilities. Among Terry's weapons, the lightning- and coldfire-aspected spears worked best for finishing the hellions off.
One by one, Terry eradicated the lion-faced hellspawn in the sky until, for the first time in a long while, Terry’s surroundings became calm – at least if one ignored the huge ruckus on the ground near to him.
Terry turned around to use the opportunity to finally get away from all the trouble when something in his mana sense caused him to pause. At one location, a thin cloud of mana had appeared out of nowhere. Terry, who was still concealed, stared down and spotted a larger hole leading into the ground at an angle.
After Terry’s attention had been drawn to the mana, he also noticed several other similar signatures. The other locations were all guarded by soldiers in Tiv uniform.
When Terry spotted one of these locations, he gulped. It was an elevated area of rock with a very distinct entrance. The sight caused Terry to finally realize what these thin layers of mana represented.
Dungeon.
Terry bit his lips.
What kind of dungeon has so many entrances? And one suddenly appearing out of nowhere at that? Wait—
Terry remembered his time with the dungeon scavengers. “Losing control? Turning dormant?” He stared down with a furrowed brow. “What the Wastes is going on down there?”
Terry wrestled with himself. In a half daze, Terry began wolfing down food and swallowing large mouthfuls of mana-imbued cold tea. The reflex to make good use of any rest time had been deeply ingrained into Terry over the past days.
Eventually, Terry’s curiosity – accompanied by an unexplainable feeling of dread – won over his desire to leave.
Terry double-checked his concealment, and he switched from his divine hammer inscription back to his cloaked boot mechanism. Like this, he made his way to the recently opened entrance, which wasn’t guarded by soldiers yet.
Down on the ground, Terry looked around. The entrance was secluded from the active battle.
From up close, Terry was absolutely certain that this was a dungeon. The feeling was all too familiar. Terry stared at the dungeon entrance in thought.
Sheltered Guardian. Nosy Guardian.
What if this is another plot that might affect Arcana? Affect my whaka?
But I finally have the chance to break free from the pursuit by the Wastes. A chance to return to my whaka.
But if we had discovered the plot by Willow and the Preacher before they succeeded in destroying the barrier, then none of this would have happened.
What if…?
Terry hesitated with a conflicted expression.
‘Shouldn’t we do our part?’ Sigille’s question echoed in Terry’s mind. He took a deep breath and stepped into the dungeon’s tunnel.
***
Little by little, the defense around the Libra Outpost was falling apart. To many, it appeared a miracle that they had persisted for this long despite the odds. If it hadn’t been for the constant spell support provided through the giant druid oak, they wouldn’t have.
But no matter how big an advantage the holy aspect gave the many channelers, no matter how steadfast Dhruv stood at the center of their defense, the ongoing battle against the indefatigable hordes of undead was taking its toll.
A silver-robed man was covering the backs of some of his friends as they tried to retreat to the next line of fortifications.
“Argh!” a death spear hit the man from a blind angle. He was lucky that his armor prevented the worst from happening.
Unfortunately, the shock and the following lapse in attention allowed a group of zombies to rush in and overwhelm the man temporarily. Before the man could disentangle himself from the creatures, he had already been bitten.
The man grit his teeth. In a violent burst of mana, he shook off the zombies but found himself trapped and all paths of retreat blocked.
Looking back, the silver-robed man saw another large group of zombies rush towards him. Just when he was about to curse in hopeless resignation, a blast of rock projectiles exploded from the ground and tore the zombies apart.
A moment later, the ground reshaped and Lori burst forth with her spears in hand. Her barrier spear blocked another volley of death spears.
“You need to go back to the infirmary. Have the cultists clean that bite,” ordered Lori. “Afterwards, go to Emily and the others and have them restrain you. They can observe you and watch for warning signs while you rest. We can’t afford a life turning. Neither in the defense line, nor in the shelter.”
The man coughed and collapsed on the ground. He tried to get back up, but realized that he did not have enough strength left to make it back on his own.
“Okay, now you should be fine,” said Lori, and returned her attention to the arriving undead.
All around the two, fire-aspected arrows arrived and covered Lori's position. Lori displayed a reassured smile towards a spot where the figure of Miguel was aiming through an arrow slit inside the Guardian fortifications.
A white lynx with purple markings appeared under the protection of a spherical arcane shield. The soul spirit bit into the injured man’s silver robe, extended its arcane shield around the man, and began pulling him to a safe location.
A group of ghouls lunged at the arcane shield, but before they could arrive, they were eviscerated by multiple arrows and arcane bolts.
Shortly after, all the undead creatures were hurled through the air and pushed back when Calam arrived in a massive leap and unleashed his spell.
“I don’t… I don’t get it,” stammered the silver-robed man. He looked from Lori to Calam, and back to the fortifications. “Why would people like you side with someone like that Terry? It makes no sense!”
Lori looked at him coldly. “Don’t make me regret saving your ignorant bum. You ask why?” She scoffed. “Because in contrast to you, we actually know Terry. You know nothing.”
A death specter floated up from the ground and sent its haunts towards Lori.
“One of those annoying towels again.” Lori scowled, retrieved a fire-aspected short spear, and slashed at the haunts.
Before Lori could engage the death specter itself, a claw rose from the shadows and shadow blades ripped the ethereal creature apart. For a brief moment, a woman in grey armor with encrusted spiders nodded at Lori and then disappeared into the shadows again.
“Hm.” Lori looked pensively after the disappearing woman and clicked her tongue. “Patricia.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Honest or not?”
Just when Lori was about to return to her liquified earth pocket, Dhruv lowered himself on a giant vine and appeared next to her.
“You know, lass, you would have made a great root protector,” said Dhruv. “If it wasn’t such a bad time, I would be tempted to teach you a few tricks that root protectors from the druids employ.” He pointed towards another location. “You should move over there. We have to abandon this side. The death hunters have— Speaking of death hunters.”
Lori nodded and did not wait around to hear the explanation. She trusted the old druid’s instructions and left for the location he had pointed out.
Elenec dropped from the sky. “Damn, the aerial battle is getting more and more intense.”
“How did it go?” asked Dhruv.
“It worked,” replied Elenec with a slight grimace. “We managed to lure the first group of skullfeast hippos here.”
From the city’s edge, about a dozen massive hippos stomped into the area and caused all the buildings to shake from their thunderous approach. Their skeleton appeared to be both internal and external. Their most distinguishing features were the skull that surrounded the flesh on their head and their death-aspected mana signature.
The skullfeast hippos tore through the buildings and hurled themselves hungrily at the undead creatures. They chomped frenziedly and feasted to their hearts’ content.
The death spear spells did not harm the skullfeast hippos in the least. Instead, it looked as if the mana-corrupted hippos were welcoming the death-aspected spells eagerly.
The claws and teeth of the zombies or ghouls had no way to penetrate the hippos’ thick hides, and the hippos gorged themselves while grunting in satisfaction.
“They’ll do a good amount of damage by flanking the horde, but sooner or later, we will have to deal with them, too,” remarked Elenec.
“I know, but it’s still worth it,” said Dhruv grimly. “Thank your colleagues for me. Unless we pull tricks like this, then there won’t be a later.
“The scope of the dimensional gate limits the speed at which the undead come through, but it’s not just the dimensional gate we need to worry about anymore.” Dhruv’s expression darkened. “This battle is drawing the attention of more and more creatures from the vicinity.”
Dhruv looked up. “And the high-level death mages and lichs are increasingly targeting my oak directly.”
“I believe that’s my cue,” said Elenec, and soared into the sky.
Dhruv stepped on a lowered vine swing and had it pull himself up.
At the next line of fortifications, other people were observing the aerial battle anxiously.
“Doesn’t look good up there,” remarked Wallace. He aspected a fresh arrow with brightfire and shot it into the skull of a skeletal warrior in the distance.
“Yeah,” exclaimed Miguel in a grumbling tone. He shot a mana suction arrow at a death specter and immediately refilled his enchanting quiver. He tried to keep his enchanting quivers filled at all times for emergencies while firing as quickly as the quivers could enchant new arrows.
Wallace peeked around to get a better idea of the situation while using the time to aspect more arrows with fire and brightfire to restock the supply that he and Miguel relied on.
“One of the lichs is flying lower now,” said Wallace while squinting. “My bow won’t work, but I believe your bow’s reach could suffice.”
“Hmph.” Miguel looked up and frowned. “Perhaps it does but…” Even after several breaths, he did not see a direct line for an arrow to pass and hit the lich’s skull. “But with the druid’s vines and roots smashing around everywhere, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hit it from here.”
“Hm…” Wallace smacked his tongue. He held out his hand. “Would you mind lending me your bow and one of your fancy exploding arrows?” He placed his own bow on the ground.
Miguel raised an eyebrow but did as was asked. He could continue firing into the horde with any bow and currently, the aerial battle was the most troublesome. Even if the chance was slim, any chance to impede a lich was worth taking.
Wallace tested Miguel’s metal-aspect reinforced bow. “Good bow.” He nocked the enchanted arrow and took calm, measured breaths.
Abruptly, Wallace narrowed his eyes and loosened the arrow. Thwish
Miguel watched the slightly wobbling arrow fly off. After half a breath, Miguel felt like sighing. He could already see a thick vine moving into the arrow’s path.
Unexpectedly, the wobbling arrow’s trajectory changed slightly. It curved and successfully passed through the dense net of moving obstacles.
The arrow entered the lich’s skull from below, and the arrowhead exploded inside.
Even though the lich was not vanquished yet, it provided an opportunity for the death hunters. They instantly pressured the lich and pushed the creature into the range of Rachel’s Sanctuary.
As the outpost’s main spellwork instructor, Rachel was one of the pillars that had allowed the defense to hold up so far. Her exquisite robes were fluttering wildly in the wind and she used the opportunity to blast the weakened lich apart with an intense ray of fire.
“Woah…” exclaimed Miguel with wide eyes. He looked at Wallace. “Was that intentional?”
“Heh.” Wallace grinned. “Not everyone has access to good magic toys. You learn to adapt in order to improve.” He winked. “If we survive this, I can show you.”
“Hahh…” Wallace switched bows with Miguel again and frowned. “Why couldn’t my little angel become a dainty seamstress or a burly lumberjack or anything else that would not require coming here? Have I mentioned that I hate this place?”
Miguel snorted. “Once or twice since this started.” He looked at the undead. “Can’t blame you for that either.”
“Damn,” cursed Wallace with a glance to the frontlines. “The gold cages prepared by Cadence have done a good job to keep the zombies out, but with so many death knights hacking holes into them, we’ll probably have to retreat further back soon.”
***
Comments
Aurora1325
Thanks for the chapter
Sesharan
Absolutely delicious to see Terry make the decision to endanger the Tiv army. This whole arc has been a delightful analysis of where Terry’s moral lines are.
