Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty Two – 322"The truth of Fire is that it is never satisfied. There is always more to burn, more to purify. That is why we pair it with Light. The Light reveals, and the Fire burns the dross away."
-Rahven Haim, Master Justiciar,
Paladin of the Pathless
The yellow-orange grit cut at him as he ran, razors on the wind that split open the gash at his side again and again. Clouds of it pummeled him, almost tearing the tattered crimson cloak off his wide, chitin-covered shoulders. The sands rattled off his armor, blasting thin chunks from it with each new gust, and only his weary use of Chitin Forging kept any of it whole. The wind shifted, and the cloak at his back twisted and snapped, flaring open wide enough to display its emblem. A clenched white gauntlet atop a black shield, all of it superimposed above a golden sunburst on blood-red cloth. He tossed his horns and snorted, expelling jets of sand before tucking his head against the wind and pressing on.Health: 2817/4639
His Health wasn't getting better, and they had almost found him twice. The sandstormfurious and loud in a way that he felt in his boneswould rage for hours yet, at least. It was cover only a crazy person would take advantage of; luckily, he'd gone nuts months ago.
"Monster! Unbound!"
A form materialized out of the storm, a tall figure wearing crimson plate and an identical cloak. A heavy, two-handed sword lifted, ignited, and golden-orange flame lit the sands. The figure didn't shout anything else, only charged in a flash of Agility that his Perception couldn't track. Still, he'd fought the Paladins enough to recognize their opening moveit was always the same. A charge and overhand strike.
He dropped his head and took the blow straight to his curved horns. The Paladin gasped.
"You noobs never expect that," he growled.
And then twisted.
The Paladin screamed as the greatsword was wrenched from their grasp, its still flaming blade hurled with a casual jerk of the neck. His hand snapped outward, clamping onto the Paladin's helmet, palming it before yanking them off balance. Slamming them into the shifting dune beneath their feet.
"UAGH!"
The Paladin hit and flared with golden light, flipping themselves to the side even as his mighty stomp collapsed the sands. The over-armored idiot pulled a side sword, a toothpick compared to their usual blades, and charged again. This time they screamed.
Black-green Mana rolled out of his channels, spearing into the sands. Despite the Paladin's Agility, they never made it into melee range.
Hallowed Call!
A tail made of bone and chitin shot upward from beneath the sands, flashing directly through the Paladin's breastplate. A needle-like tipas long as a shortswordstabbed up behind the warrior, covered in blood.
"Sick," he said with a queasy swallow. Blood drenched the sands, and the Paladin's Health dropped to nothing.
As did their body.
He winced, his own wounds bleeding again. There wasn't time. If he found me, then the rest aren't far behind. Hurriedly, he spread his large hands and let more of that black-green Mana gather from his palms. It coiled, tensing with a purpose he hadn't given it yet. He'd learned this trick through a lot of trial and error, but it worked. Usually.
Hallowed Rise!
The Mana shot out and down, injected itself into the Paladin's wounds. Filling them. With agonizing slowness, the corpse twitched and jerked, rising unsteadily to its feet. From within it's dented helmet, its once-Human eyes blazed with necrotic energy.
Hallowed Rise is level 34!
"Over here! The creature runs!"
Adrenaline pumped into his veins, and he pivoted on the spot. The sound had come from close by, but directions were hard to judge in the storms. Terror overwhelmed his anger, and he fled.
"With me, you two!" he hissed. Behind him, the ex-Paladin lumbered after with surprising speed, while beneath their feet a small wave disturbed the sand, following in his wake.
Safety. He knew it was nearby. He only had to make it there alive.
Health: 2343/4639
Dad, he whispered to himself. Dad, I-I don't want to die.
A discordant yowl tore through his senses, and Felix jerked awake. Through the haze of sleep, he could still hear a faint, thrumming melody on the wind. It was gone in a moment, but not before Felix's Affinity could catch impressions of towering sand dunes and a terrible storm.
"Was I a Minotaur?" Felix muttered to himself. It had felt realextremely soenough that he checked his own Health.
Health: 9340/9340
He sat up completely, rising from the rock-hard bed, silently praising his Body for its lack of aches and pains. Sleeping on stone like this would have twisted his spine to hell back on Earth. It was dark, the room around him lacking windows, and the one door closed so cleverly it made hardly a seam in the stone. He'd found the chamber after a day of exhausting talking and exploration, the former with his friends and new allies, and the latter concerning what remained of the Temple itself. The room he had found was a bedchamber, judging by the empty bed-slab that dominated it, though no other furniture survived the Ages. It had been enough.
The bed-slab dwarfed him, but Pit slumbered deeply at his side, sized more like a smallish elephant than any dog he'd had before. Felix scrubbed his face with his hands and smoothed down his wild mane of hair as he swung his feet tot he ground.
That Paladin said "Unbound." And a Minotaur...A Minotaur was among the seven other Unbound he knew of; the ones he had been shown in his Omen Path. Felix doubted very much it was a coincidence. Not the way my life is going.
"Felix. Good morning."
Unfettered Volition!
Corrosive Strike!
Adamant Discord!
All three Skills surged within him, bringing him to his feet while Mana swirled about his fists in clouds of acid and lightning, lighting up his crude bedchamber. A tall, golden-hued figure raised it's mismatched hands in a gesture of peace, and even before it spoke again, Felix let his Skills fade.
"Karys. It's early." As he said it, Felix flared his Perception and let it spread outward, beyond his enclosed room and into the Temple itself. His Authority hummed, pushing his awareness even further so that it swept beyond the Temple and into the forest and river and mountains andhe cut it off. Felix blinked. Nothing seemed much changed from the night before.
Karys stood before him on new legsa new Body entirely. Felix still hadn't gotten used to the ancient Paragon walking around in the Archon's old armor, but the ten-foot tall body was modified now with pieces of dark iron they'd salvaged from the battlefield. His entire right arm was a smaller version of the left, darker and thinner, but seemed functional enough. The construct had a self-repair function, but it had been gutted when Felix had cleansed the Profane Sigaldry from its chassis. Karys' expertise with Eidolons was all that kept the thing running. He jerked himself into a stilted bow, though the golden helmet that passed for his head never took its eyes off Felix.
"Yes, I apologize for the hour. I know you have spent yourself the last day since claiming this Territory." Karys took a step closer, clattering only slightly. "But you asked that I awaken you before the day had lapsed."
"Oh," Felix said. "Right. I did."
A day ago, Felix had...acquired, he supposed, the Territory of Nagast. Claiming Authority through a strange array beneath the Temple, he'd taken on a new set of responsibilities as well. Seeing to them, his people as well as his enemies, had taken much of the night and following day. All the while, he was holding off Tempering his Skills, too worried, too concerned that the shadows would contain yet more enemies for him to face.
"If you wait much longer, your Skills will begin to Tier up whether you are ready or not," Karys said.
"I know," Felix said. He brought up his Status.
Name: Felix Nevarre
Level: 56
Race: Primordial of the Unseen Tide (Greater)*
Omen: Magician