Chapter Two Hundred and One – 201Breathe in. Focus.
Felix let his Perception seep inward, blanket his skin, his muscles, his blood and bones. He felt his heart stronger now than ever before in his life, an engine pumping relentlessly in his chest. He felt at the portion of his physical body that held his channels and core, a strangeness to his Body that nevertheless felt more natural than anything he'd known on Earth. But his Perception only went so deep; to sense the rest, he divested himself of his Body and flared his Affinity. He quested within his Spirit.
His core and channels were of the Body, but they also existed beyond that, above it, within the realm of the Spirit. The border between the two was distinct, yet also muddled by ten thousand strands of commonality. Felix traced them, his Affinity plucking against every string, every tie and bond between Body and Spirit. Along those strings, into the core, there waited his power. Spun upon a ring of thickened flames, it hummed in the pregnant darkness, a hollow star in his strange solar system. Felix systemically inspected his core, his Skills, their revolution around his false son. The music they made as they vibrated at and among one another. All of it.
Intent. Affinity. Guide and Listen.
Felix didn't actualize himself within his core. He was told he didn't need to, that it would only slow him down. Instead he used his Intent to seize his Mana and send it surging along his channels, shaping it all the while to the beat of his chosen Skill. It was like pushing molasses by blowing at it with a straw. Affinity extended, he sounded the Skill's pattern, agonizingly mimicking the unique vibrations imprinted within his core. The Mana along his looping pathways buzzed and transformed, its hue altered from a blue-white to a virulent green. He released.
An orb of darkened Mana shot forward, only to splash harmlessly against the wooden golem before him. The golem, for its part, rocked slightly back.
"Success!" Felix crowed. He pumped a fist into the air. "Take that, Pinocchio!"
It was weak and almost completely useless, but it had worked! Since his embarrassing flub against the Ghoul, it was also the first time he'd been able to manifest anything outside of his channels at all. This version of Wrack and Ruin wouldn't stop a charging mouse, but it was a step forward. And it was far easier without the Echoes of the Maw interfering. Still a pain in the ass though.
"Open the gate! Open the gate!"
Felix's heard shouting from beyond the walls. His Perception had grown enough that it wasn't much of a chore, though he often kept it reigned in to prevent overstimulation. Shouts though, especially shouts like that, they cut right through the noise. This person was terrified.
Shouting for Pit, Felix sped toward the exit and whipped open the warehouse door. Beyond was the courtyard and hundreds of people milling about in a panic. Shouts were escalating as the sound of pitched battle bled into their camp.
"Open the gate!"
"Revenants approaching!" Shouted a guard while lifting a large, heavily constructed bow. "Fire!"
A wave of arrows cut through the air like thunder, and now Felix could differentiate the squeals of the Primordial spawn. But apart from them, there were others.
Pit!
Swooping from above, the dark tenku snatched Felix from the cobbles and pumped his wings with a mighty heave. Wind buffeted the cobbles, strong enough to throw a few Untempered folk onto their asses, but Felix didn't spare the time to feel sorry. As they shot over the wall, he focused instead on the wave of rust-red scales that was descending on a group of fifty men and women. They were all of them ragged and bloody, an amalgam of desperation that had grown depressingly commonplace.
Drop me, bud!
They were nearly fifty feet up, but Pit didn't question the order, he simply opened his talons and Felix plummeted to the earth.
Sovereign of Flesh!
Reign of Vellus!
A painful wave of transformed flesh subsumed his consciousness for the briefest of instances, clearing by the time a burst of crackling blue-white energy shot downward. A burst of kinetic energy, coupled with searing lightning, hit the leading edge of the Revenants like a tidal wave. Red scaled flesh flipped ass over teakettle, though few weren't able to immediately regain their feet. Just in time to witness Felix hit the cobbles like a meteor.
*KATHOOM!*
The Revenants hissed in hate and hunger, their Intent as clear to Felix as if they had shouted it.
Wrack and Ruin!
Wrack and Ruin!
Influence of the Wisp!
Blue-white wispfire flickered among dozens of the Revenants, freezing them in place as the Enthrall status condition caught them. More still were mowed down by the twinned orbs of sizzling acid, big brothers to the Skill-less attempt earlier. The acid magic ate through Revenant after Revenant, tearing limbs and boring holes through abdomens with little care. Still the Revenants came at him, heedless in their fury, and Felix looked behind him.
The ragged group had made it to the gates of their camp, but they were entirely too close. The guards wouldn't open the gates with a horde so near. He had to change that.
"You want me? Come on!" Two identical whips of shadow formed in either hand, and he heaved to the left and then to the right. Each swipe took several of the monsters off their feet and at least did a little damage.
Stone Shaping!
A wall of stone spikes shot up along the path of the whips, scattering their dark Mana and impaling another dozen abominations. Black ichor ran like water. Notifications for Contribution rolled in.
Only forty left. He glanced back at the gates, which were just now opening up. I can do this.
Ravenous Tithe!
The dead among the enemy exploded into greasy black smog, liberally streaked with a ruby luminescence. It hurtled toward Felix, but he was already moving.
The Revenants did not last long.
Shortly after, the gates opened once more to admit Felix and Pit both. They were covered in black blood and they were mussed from battle, but neither of the bore significant wounds. He'd kept the horde busy while the refugees had fled safely into camp, bating them close enough for the Tin Ranks to land their arrows and ranged Mana Skills. The Revenants didn't leave him, not once, practically glued to his side. Pit rained down Frost Spears and Wingblades, slicing them apart over and over.
"Ugh, heartburn," Felix muttered, rubbing at his chest. Pit cooed and nudged him with his giant head. "I'll be fine. Just more Maw power. Gotta cut it off."
Bastion of Will!
Around his core space, diaphanous strings of crimson power drifted like questing snakes. With a flex of his Skill, he severed their heads and sent them recoiling until they drifted harmlessly above his core. From above, the crackling nebula of Essence released another two ruby-red drops of glistening light; they joined with the others that swirled in counterpoint to his spinning ring core.
Good enough, I suppose. It felt...not bad, but not good. Heartburn was a joke, because it was more like the ache of punished muscles, an ache that promised greater strength in the future. But did he trust that strength?
As the gates clattered shut behind him, Felix looked out at what he expected to be a gathering crowd. Instead, it was a ring of armored soldiers, spears leveled against the twenty two refugees. For the first time, Felix got a good look at them, letting his Voracious Eye do its thing. Most of them were Humans, Untempered and heavily wounded, but one caught his attention; she was hanging nearly limp from a burly man's arms. Blood dripped from her lips and ears, black and red intermingling.
Name: Aslei Tunn
Level: 42
Race: Human
[email protected]//
Corruption Detected.
It was the Chorister of Siva. Her silver robes were torn and bloody, stained black in some places. She was far worse than her escort, all of whom alternated between fear of the guards and concern for the chorister. "Please," she was panting. "Help us. We've found the Nest."
"What?" Cal demanded, striding through the crowd. "Where?"
"Please," Aslei gasped. More black blood poured from her nose and trickled down from her eyes. "They're all dying."
"She's packed to the brim with that Primordial Essence," Portia declared. They had moved the Chorister and her people into one of the smaller structures nearby. It had only four cramped rooms abutting the main area and was less than fourteen hundred square feet, but it sufficed. Her people were split up into two groups and being watched. The Chorister, meanwhile, was laid out on a cot they'd salvaged from somewhere. Portia gestured helplessly to the woman's bloody nose, ears, and mouth. "You can see some scaling on her neck and hands, and her Night cursed blood is turning black. That's more advanced than I've ever seen this before."