Chapter 94: Illusion

Chapter 94: Illusion

Hefty Maul



Durability: 700/709



Hardness: 142



Material: Force Oak



Mana Capacitance Rune



404/3000 mp



Import Efficiency: 100%



Export Efficiency: 0%



Weight Rune



347% increase to mass, 57 mp/day



Livingwood Rune



Recover 10 durability per day



Requires access to light, air, water, and nutrients



Spark Lighter



Durability: 38/44



Material:



Body: Iron Pyrite



Striker: Arcane Flint



Ambient Mana Rune



1/1 mp



Reduced Spark Rune



Create a shower of sparks



1mp/use



Skulker’s Pigsticker



Durability: 97/103



Hardness: 129The initial instance of this chapter being available happened at N0v3l.Bin.



Material: Chem Steel



Mana Capacitance Rune



500/1000 mp



Import Efficiency: 71%



Export Efficiency: 0%



Venom Rune



Coat the blade with Bloodquill Venom



Inflicts 13 chemical damage per second for 60 seconds



500 mp/application



Trickshot Bracer



Durability: 204/205



Hardness: 78



Material: Arcane Leather



Mana Reservoir Rune



3420/5000 mp



Trickshot Rune



Allows the user to charge arrows with stamina to curve their flight paths



10 sp/arrow



Effect lasts 10 seconds



40 mp/day



Cycling Ring



Durability: 18/18



Material: Arcane Lead



Mana Capacitance Rune



0/20 mp



Import Efficiency: 60%



Export Efficiency: 60%



Leakage: 10 mp/day



Razorsteel Dagger



Durability: 94/107



Hardness: 184



Material: Force Steel



Mana Capacitance Rune



940/1000 mp



Import Efficiency: 74%



Export Efficiency: 0%



Sharpness Rune



23% increase to damage to all strikes when using a dagger-aspect skill, 10mp/strike



52% increase to sharpness, 10mp/day



Razorsteel Dagger



Durability: 97/103



Hardness: 180



Material: Force Steel



Mana Capacitance Rune



940/1000 mp



Import Efficiency: 74%



Export Efficiency: 0%



Sharpness Rune



24% increase to damage to all strikes when using a dagger-aspect skill, 10mp/strike



47% increase to sharpness, 10mp/day



Damn it.

Rain sighed, respectfully tucking Melka’s daggers into his pack. He was sitting in the antechamber to the Fells, his shadow dancing by the light of a single evertorch. The Lair’s barrier gave off a diffuse green glow, contributing to the eerie sense of unreality.

He had just spent two hours digging through all of the clothes and equipment of the fallen, separating what he’d found into four piles. He rolled his shoulders, still feeling a bit stiff from sleeping on the stone floor even though he’d been up for hours.

The smallest pile sat in front of him, containing all of the enchanted items. There wasn’t anything that would help him dig his way free, unfortunately. The closest was the so-called ‘Hefty Maul.’ It was basically a tree trunk with a handle. It would also be a great way to end up buried under a thousand tons of stone.

Spending twenty thousand mana in a single burst, Greenfield latched onto a narrow column of deepstone and willed it upward. Like a spear launched from the center of the planet, the deepstone column slammed into the barriers of the Adamant Empire from below. There was a massive crash of shattering magic as the sheer momentum of the rock punched straight through their defenses.

Greenfield was spat out of the earth, having adjusted her own trajectory to avoid slamming into the barrier. Some of her momentum had been lost, transferred into her attack, but she still flew plenty high enough to see the impact of her little greeting.

The optical distortion that the army had been hiding behind had vanished. Where before there had been only wind-swept snow, there now stood a fortress constructed of blackened bricks. The deepstone spear had punched a hole straight through the center of the fortress but was rapidly collapsing as the high-rank mana of the depths drained away.

To their credit, the Adamants reacted quickly, tearing down the stone pillar with their own Stone Mages. Using Mana Sight, she watched as they hurriedly patched the hole she had blown in their defenses. There was a flicker, and a second dome of protection formed outside the first.

“More layers won’t save you,” she said with a smirk, taking a deep breath. She considered the fortress as she reached the top of her arc, then drew deeply on her Well, and pulled herself toward the ground once more. Waves of magic flew toward her, but she ignored them. It was the fortress that had her attention. It was always impressive to see how quickly the Adamants could construct a fortification. How much more impressive would it be if she managed to tear it down in a matter of minutes?

The Aspect landed amid a flurry of ice and snow. It had come at his call, veiling him from the arrows and magic that had started tracking him during his descent.

The Aspect was not concerned by such things, but getting hit would have been an insult to his pride. His mind was cool and calm as he wove between the oncoming projectiles, dodging them by less than a hair.

Citizen Bluecrest would have been alarmed by the sheer volume of magic that was flying through the air, but Citizen Bluecrest had no place in this. This was a battle, and in a battle, there was only the Aspect.

Sliding between two arrows that had been seeking his heart, the Aspect whipped his arms forward. The icy blades covering them broke away with a mighty crack, shattering the air as they were launched forward faster than sound.

The snow swirled, and his blades were restored, as sharp and deadly as before.

The Aspect felt no disappointment when he saw that he had failed to penetrate the newly reformed barrier. His ally would have it down shortly. It was merely an annoyance. He hoped that the Adamants decided to send him a worthy challenger while he waited.

Needlelike teeth of ice made themselves known as the Aspect’s mouth widened into a malevolent grin.

A second stone spear had just slammed into the far side of the fortress, piercing the arcane bubble protecting the pathetic flesh of the humans cowering within. Fire rained down upon them from the exploding Meteors above as they scrambled to restore the barrier.

However, neither of these things were what had caught his interest.

His challenger approached.

An Incarn.

The strength of the Empire of Adamant lay in their numbers, Bluecrest whispered in the back of the Aspect’s mind. While no individual member of one of their armies could stand up to a Citizen, they had their ways. An Incarn was simply a member of the regular infantry, perhaps level twenty at most. However, that was before the enhancer magic took hold.

To become an Incarn was to die. No human body could withstand the combined magic of that many augmentations. Not for long. If not for the fact that they no longer felt pain, a soldier-turned-Incarn would have immediately gone mad from the mind-rending agony.

Fortunately for the Aspect, it took a little while for an Incarn’s mind and body to fail. He would get to have his fun.

Steel met ice as the Aspect parried the Incarn’s lightning-fast strike. He felt pain as the metal bit into his ice, the very substance of his body, but it only served to heighten his excitement. This was what the Aspect lived for.

The Incarn looked shocked as the Aspect’s second blade plunged into his chest. The magic that had wrapped and protected him was woefully insufficient against the razor-sharp shard of ice.

Naturally, this was not nearly enough to finish the battle. The Aspect parried the return strike, then ripped his blade out of the side of his opponent’s chest. Before his eyes, the wound sealed itself back together with chains of flickering magic.

The following flurry of strikes, parries, and evasions was a marvel to behold. Both fighters moved faster than the dull eye could follow, their blades ringing out in a never-ending song of ice and steel. The Aspect hissed with glee as the Incarn’s sword scratched a line of pain across his brow.

Of course, it could not last.

It was not that either of the fighters had become tired. It was that the Aspect had grown bored.

With no warning, he stopped holding back, tripling his speed in an instant. He danced around the Incarn, carving him apart with ruthless efficiency before ending it with a stab to the back of the head. The former soldier detonated like a fireball, chunks of blood and gore flying in every direction as the magic that had been enhancing him tore its way free.

The Aspect skidded back from the force of the blast, shields of ice forming automatically to protect his body from the chaotic magic.

Snow swirled, brushing the blood and gore from the Aspect as he uncrossed his arms. His mouth lolled open, releasing an icy fog as he hissed out a pair of words.

“Send more!”

Flight.

Bowcraig activated his own magic just as the last of his Meteors was blown apart. He guided himself casually through the hail of fire, pleased with the dispersion of Heat mana in the air. Pillars of stone were continuing to assail the barrier, and Bluecrest appeared to be enjoying himself. Bowcraig was biding his time, planning to strike as soon as the barrier fell.

A sudden searing agony assailed him. He was also blinded, the world going entirely white.

Bowcraig cursed. No fire would be hot enough to burn him like this, meaning that it could only be one thing. No, one person.

He’d attracted the attention of Lightbreaker.

As his health began to drop, he hurriedly reached into a pocket to retrieve a glass charm. This was an artifact made in Xiugaaraa by the fabled Illuminator-Smith known only as the Weaver of Light.

The Weaver had been dead for hundreds of years. For all that Bowcraig knew, this charm was the last of its kind in existence. Nobody alive knew how it had been made.

He shattered the fragile glass in his fist, and immediately the pain and blinding light vanished. The charm had been activated.

Ten thousand Light resistance—just over the damage limit in an unranked zone. It sounded so simple, but achieving it was anything but.

Lightbreaker would have no way of harming him for the next five minutes.

It pays to be rich, Bowcraig thought with a smirk. Who would have thought that I would be the one to finally kill Fecht’s strongest dog.

[Watch out, Lightbreaker can create illusions. Don’t let him fool you,] said a voice through the link.

[You think I don’t know that? Shut up and let me work,] Bowcraig sent back, then muted the link. He had Mana Sight active, and he could see Lightbreaker’s signature as clear as day. No optical tricks would work on him.

He concentrated, drawing heat from the air using Thermal Conversion. This was his most potent skill, hidden and known only to him. It was the culmination of his mastery of both Heat and Cold. It allowed him to change energy of one type into the other, including that which occurred naturally.

Such a thing was unheard of.

Environmental mana was tantalizingly out of reach, even for those who could see it in the first place. Whenever anyone asked him about this ability of his, he would always point them to the foundation-tier skills Immolate and Refrigerate. Over the years, he had derived no small amount of amusement from the occasional fool who took one of them, hoping to imitate his power.

As if such garbage abilities could compare, he thought, eyes flashing with pride.

Raw Heat mana flowed into his body, filling his veins with fire as he flew along the path of the beam that was still enveloping him. That fire turned to ice as he circulated the mana through his spell, releasing it back into the environment. The balance was disrupted and started to spiral out of control. The sheer volume of Cold mana that he was producing began to displace the other elements.

The beam of light vanished abruptly, revealing Lightbreaker standing atop a pale disk that glowed like the moon. The man was wearing a gray uniform, emblazoned with the twin black fangs of the Empire. His black skin spoke of his Osaran descent, but his head had been shaved in defiance of tradition. He instead wore a neatly trimmed goatee.

Lightbreaker frowned, then the glowing platform shot forward and his arms were enveloped with blades of crimson energy. Bowcraig cursed and attempted to dodge, but he was too slow. He felt the impact of one of the blades on his arm as Lightbreaker flew past him.

Thanks to the charm, he took no damage from the Light magic, but he wasn’t ready for his opponent to realize that. He needed time for his conversion to work. He quickly feigned a look of pain, grasping his arm and trying to gain some distance between himself and his foe.

“Ouch,” he called over his shoulder, then laughed, his breath fogging the rapidly cooling air. “Well done, Lightbreaker, but you’ll have to try harder than that if you want to defeat me!”

Bowcraig was immediately engulfed by another beam of light, but he just smiled and pretended to be blinded. The temperature was well below freezing at this point, and it was continuing to drop. A second wave of fog formed in the air as one of the constituent gasses flashed to a solid. Bowcraig wasn’t a chemist and cared little for the mechanics of such things. All he knew was that no one had ever survived Thermal Conversion long enough for the air to turn to rain. That point was rapidly approaching. It would just be a few more seconds now.

He pulled on his Well, draining it completely, then summoned a pair of crystalline swords, one in each hand. With the temperature as low as it was, the magic came easily, as if it had its own will. The entire area was suffused with Cold mana now, with not even a shred of Heat mana remaining. Still, he did not stop, adding to the cold by channeling Froststorm. It was only a tier-1 spell, but it was well-suited for rapidly dispersing Cold mana.

Closing the distance, Lightbreaker swung at the Citizen with his blades of crimson light. Each time, Bowcraig would move his own blades of ice to intercept. He had trained against the Aspect. Compared to that, this was nothing. The man’s strikes had no weight.

“What’s wrong, Lightbreaker? No taste for swordsmanship?” Bowcraig said, then coughed, closing his mouth. The cold burned, even beginning to overcome his own incredible resistance. It wouldn’t be long now.

He redoubled his efforts, moving on the offensive as Lightbreaker started slowing down. The cold was clearly getting to him, his skin turning pale and starting to crack. Still, the Light Mage remained just one step out of reach. Bowcraig would have laughed if the air wouldn’t have damaged his lungs.

Fool. It’s already too late for you. You should have tried to get out of range.

Suddenly, Lightbreaker stumbled, almost slipping from the platform that he was standing on. Bowcraig’s face split into a wicked grin as the first droplets of liquid air started to fall. No one had ever survived this long. Lightbreaker was indeed a worthy foe.

The Citizen launched himself forward, icy blade seeking for his opponent’s heart. Lightbreaker didn’t even attempt to respond, toppling from his glowing platform like a frozen statue. A thrill of triumph rolled through Bowcraig as his blade pierced Lightbreaker’s body, meeting no resistance.

No resistance.

Lightbreaker vanished. In his place hung a tiny white orb, shining like the moon.

What? An illusion?! Impossible! The mana signature...

Bowcraig whirled, hunting for his foe. His lungs screamed for air, and he reversed his conversion. Even a citizen needed to breathe.

Another beam of light struck him, small, this time, no wider than a piece of straw. It glowed over his heart, blinding in intensity.

Bowcraig began to panic as he traced the beam to its source.

Lightbreaker.

The man was above him, far, far above. Bowcraig’s eyes widened as he saw the falling form of Citizen Northharbor tumbling through the air like a leaf.

No!

A sudden pain in his chest forced his eyes down. The beam of light was starting to burn through his tunic. Crackles of Arcane lightning started spreading out from the point of impact, oddly frozen in the air.

No...not Arcane. This is...

Before he could finish his thought, the charm’s protection broke completely. Bowcraig screamed in pain as his health began to drop more rapidly than he’d believed possible. The beam of light seared through all of his other defenses in an instant, piercing his heart. He canceled Flight, allowing himself to fall, desperate to get away. It was no use. The light tracked him, slicing spirals through his body as he tumbled through the air.

He was dead before his pieces hit the ground.

The man in chains sailed through the air above the city, standing upon a pane of hardened light. The two remaining Citizens were continuing their assault on the remains of the fortress, not yet having realized that it was empty. With a thought, he simulated the failure of yet another barrier. It was growing more difficult to maintain the illusion as the Citizens became less reserved in their attacks. He had to make it seem like they were making progress; otherwise, they would catch on.

The first few barriers had been real, of course. A chosen hundred soldiers had remained, honored to give their lives so that the will of the potentate could be carried out. Their purpose was not to defeat the Citizens. The remaining force had been gone for half of a day already, having vanished into the trees to the east under cover of his magic. He would join them soon. For now, he would buy them as much time as he could.

He looked down at the barrier, smiling sadly. He was relieved that Fecht had not ordered him to bring it down. Even from this height, he could see the terrified faces of the residents staring at the destruction. One face, in particular, was the object of his attention.

A tortured screech tore his gaze away from the city. The Ice-Aspect Citizen was standing in the middle of the illusory fortress, howling in outrage. The man in chains let the Mirage dissolve, revealing the broken and blasted landscape hidden beneath. Hundreds of Lunar Orbs spiraled up to him rapidly, having been scattered throughout the illusion so that he would be able to fool the Citizens’ magical senses. As each orb sunk back into his body, he regained a small fraction of the health that he had spent to imbue the mana with life.

The remaining Citizens were not fools. They tracked the orbs to his position and launched attacks toward him.

The man in chains frowned, adjusting his trajectory so the hastily-launched projectiles would miss. He was unsure if he would be able to take down both of the remaining Citizens on his own, not with his mana as low as it was. He sighed and shook his head. It was too much of a risk. Had the army remained, they would have been able to defeat all four without issue. Unfortunately, that, too, was not worth the risk. If the DKE had sent a larger force, it would have been the army that was destroyed.

He caught himself rubbing at his wrists, then forced himself to stop, clenching his hands at his sides. The sooner that the Citizens fell, the sooner that the war would be over. The day that the Empire won would be the day that the killing would end. What was the pain of a life of servitude, compared to the terrifying void of death?

He stole one last look at the city, then veiled himself and guided his platform of light off to the east. Despite the pain in his heart, he was happy. His son was alive.

Stay safe, Val.