Chapter Two Hundred and Forty Four - 244Theurgist of the Rise is level 65!
Invocation is level 42!
Felix had been learning a lot in the past few days. While part of his retreat into the Wall had been to escape the...consequences of notoriety, it was also to sate his curiosity. When initially surveying the Wall for major issues, Felix and his team had encountered more than the giant hole in the center. Sigils had been burned out and entirely new sigaldry had scored itself into the magical metal. It was Profane Sigaldry, the Archon's own creation, and it was a perfect opportunity to advance his sigil Skill. Theurgist of the Rise was a combination of Sigils of the Primordial Dawnaccording to Zara was a sort of ur-script, a precursor to modern workand the Archon's Profane Sigaldry. Together they interacted in the strangest of ways, which meant standard modes of sigil training had limited effects for him.
Hector was more than happy to study a new inscription style, as were Atar and Alister. They were somewhere nearby, likely on the other section. Hector and his team of eight Iron Rank Inscriptionists had made it to the lower levels of the Wall, where the more complicated arrays were housed.
"Felix, look at this," Hector said, four hours after their evening meal. He pointed to a circular array of sigils molded into the orichalcum panel. Felix's eyes flickered across ithis Skill humming as he didnames and connections spooled out in his Mind, as much his own memory as the Skill boosting him. He recognized maybe forty percent of what he was inspecting at any given time.
"Strengthening array with a...kinetic buffer," Felix said. "Same as all the rest on this level."
"Not that, this," Hector clarified, pointing at the diagonal slash of scorched markings across the array. Profane Sigaldry. All of the arrays had been marred in some way by them. "It's not just the sigils used here, it's the positioning. Look," Hector traced his finger along the scorched line, twisted, inverted magical markings describing a path across the majority of the original array. "The way it cuts into each major glyph is intentional. The only thing I can't figure out is the language itself."
Felix pointed at the Profane Sigaldry. "I told you. It's inverted. The runes take up the negative space the standard stuff doesn't occupy."
"Runes?" Hector asked, eyebrow raised.
Felix rolled his eyes at his own lapse. "Sigils. It's a name fromnevermind." He traced out a symbol near the glypha combination of sigils to form a centralized symbolfor the kinetic buffer. "This is the inverted symbol for force. It's...huh. It must be directly countering the array it crosses. Wow. That must have taken some serious effort to do."
Hector blinked at him, and Felix realized his assistants were as well. The Inscriptionist stroked his goatee. "Serious effort. You aren't kidding. There is no possible way this could have been done by an enemy leagues away. Either we're dealing with a genius savant with powers far beyond usin which case, we should simply runor this was sabotage."
Felix's mind flashed to the Arcids, the three that had infiltrated Haarwatch and had caused so much damage. "Sabotage makes sense. But I wouldn't push magical bullshit off the table just yet. If I've learned anything the past few months is that the Continent has an unending supply of it."
That got a few chuckles, weak humor though it was. Felix was preaching to the choir a bit; having their Guild and town pulled down around them by a super monster and its spawn had left its impression.
Felix left Hector to his work and walked along the interior chambers of Haarwatch's Wall. Everything glowed faintly, suffused with Mana that coursed through the simplest inscriptions and the ones that were damaged the least. Cal had sent power to the fortification with her Authority, but she hadn't much to spare at the start. Even a week later the resources that Haarwatch had operated on were too depleted to do much more than power a few defensive constructs. It wasn't enough to fight off another monster horde. Not yet.
He meandered down another set of stairs, accompanied by that red-gold glow. The Guild had been pretty Spartan about their decorations: there was a tapestry every hundred yards, but that was about it. And the tapestries depicted the Guild logo, a spear and sword crossed over a shield. The subdued architecture was interesting despite the drapery, done in a style that Felix recognized from below the city and a few other places. Nymean architecture, he supposed.
Speaking of Nymean craftsmanship...
Felix's hand found the wire-wrapped grip of his Crescian Blade, and a firm tug pulled it free of it's sheath. It was hooked, supposedly made by the Nym to have a curve in the center so that the blade resembled a sickle. It was a slightly longer version of what, on Earth, was called a khopesh and was useful for hooking onto an opponents shield or arms during battle. Felix chuckled to himself. He had spent an entire evening wracking his brain about where he'd seen a similar sword before; it had been supremely satisfying to put that thought to rest.
He flipped the blade, inspecting it's bronze-like metal. Crescian Bronze it was called, which made sense in a boring sort of way. Zara had told him it was an excellent medium for enchanting, held onto magic for years without decaying, and that it was a rare find. It was the same metal that the Essence Anchor was made of, back in the Labyrinth. A glyph was etched into the base of the blade, just above the crossguard, and it was surrounded by hair thin secondary and tertiary sigils. They dealt with things like direction and heat; ancillary things. The glyph, however, was one he'd recognized from an unlikely source. Though the Archon's Profane Sigaldry was a twisted, inverted version of the common variant Felix could still read the outline.
Siphon. It explained the sword's ability to cut through spells, as demonstrated by DuFont several times. Unlike the Archon's version, it didn't suck up Mana like a sponge; instead it redirected it, turning a spellform back into vapor and dispersing it to either side of the blade. Felix's Manasight could pick out other arrays within the blade; unlike the Siphon array, they weren't on the surface, but buried in the metal. He hadn't a clue on how it was done, and he didn't recognize what they meant. Neither did Hector when he had asked.
Felix had a completed a Hidden Quest involving the sword, and had a Title as a reward.
Hidden Quest Completed!
Inheritor of the Key!
You've proven yourself worthy in a trial by combat with a Master Tier existence! The Key is yours by Right and Might! Seek out the Temples to discover its true purpose and unlock its power.
New Title!
Inheritor (Unique) (Evolving)!
You are the master of the Nymean Key! Evolve this Title by seeking out Nymean Temples!
Which led directly to yet another Hidden Quest.
Hidden Quest Discovered!
The Door Of The Lidless Eye!
Seek out the Temple you once took refuge within, Ascendant. Dire secrets dwell within, waiting the Inheritor. It is your duty to prevent the darkness from escaping into the light. Do not tarry, for the Archon is close, and the darkness closer.
There were mysteries around that sword, and returning to the Waterfall Temple would begin to solve them. But...
The Archon is out there. And this city isn't ready to defend itself. There is so much left to do. Felix slammed the blade back in its sheath, set alongside a blue-metal bone. He took a slow, calming breath. It's about time to go help in city center, but...I suppose I should go check on them before I go.
Felix didn't want to, but it was his...was 'duty' the right word? Responsibility, maybe. He shook his head and braced himself as he unlatched the ground floor gate, which came right up to the large hole in the Wall. Beyond a set of red-gold metal stairs were a few men and women of a variety of Races and ages, though leaning heavily toward middle age. They were clad in patchwork armor and a motley collection of cloaks. It would have been entirely unremarkable were the cloaks not emblazoned with a glyph in bright blue paint. It looked like an open eye that was also on fire.
They've got a logo now? Felix tried to hold in his groan but it was hard. I can tell it's supposed to be a glyph of eye, fire, and lightning, but they're stretching their artistic license quite a bit there. It's barely legible. He padded down the stairs, his new boots relatively loud on the metal. He hopped off and onto the flagstones, moving just far enough ahead to see around the jagged rent in the metal. Felix stopped dead.
Oh no.
They were...fighting over his sword?
There were fifty of them, and three distinct groups had converged at the center of the gap in the Wall. Between them, sunk into the flagstones, was a large, eight foot blade shaped from the fang of the Ravager King. His Blade of the Fang was what happened when a lance and a greatsword had a baby; it was way too big to carry around with him all the time. It kept getting caught on low doorways and stuff, so he'd thrust it into the ground with the intent to get it back later.
"The Fist were here first," one of them growled at another. Closer now, Felix could tell their group were all wearing heavy metal gauntlets. "So back off!"
"What right do you have to this spot? You don't even fight with a weapon!" said one of the opposing members. They were the largest contingent, and all of them had some sort of sword strapped to their bodies. "This is clearly a spot the Fiend meant for the Blade."
"You're all idiots. It's not meant for any of that. It's the line in the sand, you see?" The third leader stepped forward, hands out. Behind her were just as many folks as the the sword guys, except all of them had hammers and clubs. "It's the point we crush the monsters that come for us. So clearly it was a spot of honor for the Bone."
Oh god, Felix palmed his face. They formed gangs.
Before things could devolve further, Felix cleared his throat. His Journeyman Body and stupidly high Vitality (or was it Endurance?) let his 'ahem' practically boom out into the open space. A few of the closer members of the Legion actually fell down.
"The Blue-Eyed Fiend!"
He wasn't sure who said it, but every one of them turned to gawk. And thento Felix's eternal embarrassmentthey saluted. Fist to their cores, about six inches above their navel, then out again. The two men and woman that had been leading the arguments stepped forward.
"We were simply ah," the one with gauntlets stumbled. Felix briefly Eyed them all. His name was Oskar. "Do you have orders for us, sir?"
"Have uh, have you seen any monster activity? Either here or at the tree-line?" Felix asked, grasping for something pertinent.
"No, sir. Do you wish for us to send out patrols?" Oskar perked up hopefully. "We can do a sweep of the"
"Sounds good. Just leave enough people here to protect the gap, I guess," Felix said. He walked past the line and grasped the handle of his Blade of the Fang. He directed a stream of Essence into the weapon and the markings on it hummed to life. It pulled from the flagstones easily. "Don't fight anything too high above you, right? How many of you have Analyze?"
A few hands went up, mostly among the gauntlet group. "Good. Analyze is important. Don't start a fight you can't win. Doesn't matter what weapon you're using if you die before you can lift it."
Felix's Affinity thrummed as the threads of connection between him and the Legion vibrated in chorus. Every one of them looked at him with serious eyes and gave some variety of solemn nod. Felix repressed a sigh. He was at a loss as to what else to say. "Alright. I'll be back, then."