Chapter 457: Subjugation

Galamon looked back at the soldiers arranged before him. The tactics and the discipline of the Veidimen were instilled into this human army so perfectly he nearly felt he was leading troops from his homeland. In them was the burning fire of responsibility and duty that made Galamon certain they would all be ready to march down through the tunnels and meet the blades of the Ebon Cult head on.

“Argrave sent word. They’re in Erlebnis’ realm,” Elenore’s voice entered his head.

Galamon reached for the Ebonice axe at his side and held it up into the air without another thought. He raised it high, and felt the surging power of Veid’s blessing coursing through his body. “We march!” he shouted, his pride and duty carrying with the words in a supernatural way.

The divine power that Veid had vested in him left his body, traversing the air with imperceptible speed before finding purchase in the hearts and minds of those he led. And as he turned, planting one foot in front of the other... the subjugation of the Ebon Cult began. But perhaps it would be two others who subjugated, first.

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Onychinusa stared at the empty air where Mozzahr had been a moment before, unpleasant feelings rising when she briefly felt the familiar sensation of Erlebnis. It had been so long since she last felt her former master’s realm... and it had become unpleasant. It was like the salty tang of blood, or the smell of the hands after touching certain metals.

Erlebnis no longer defined her. Instead, she was Onychinusa, last of the imperial bloodline of the ancient elves, and master of the dryads of the elven forest. And she had deigned to help her friend Anneliese—after all, the poor woman sorely needed her. And fittingly, the instrument of Onychinusa’s help embodied her bloodline, so she could not protest overmuch.

The Ebon Cult surrounding them fell into utter chaos after Mozzahr disappeared. He was the object of their worship, and he had been attacked and struck. His last command still rung in their mind, and two intruders persisted in their midst... but the two intruders were far more prepared for this outcome than the Ebon Cult. Castro and Onychinusa both raised their hands, spells prepared long in advance of the Ebon Cult collecting itself for battle.

They both cast one spell: [Subjugate], the S-rank shamanic spell created by her grandfather, Emperor Balzat.

The spirits and the magic within Onychinusa roared to life, merging together to form thick wires of malicious energy. It spiked outward from her hand in a cone, one tendril of power whipping forth for every head in her line of sight. The bolts moved with the speed of an arrow, piercing into the minds of the cultists by the thousands. They screamed in agony as the spell activated. The lesser among them collapsed to the floor, unconscious. The others grappled with tremendous pain as it took effect, most falling to the ground as their limbs failed.

[Subjugate] was a spell that subdued the mind and soul. It targeted the mind and the memories, shattering them both if the target did not possess spirits of their own to defend against the assault. The target’s faculties could be regained given time, but in the here and now, no other outcome was better suited for this situation. It isolated the mundane people from the spellcasters in one fell swoop, exposing their key targets.n.)O)-V./e.)l((B-(I-(n

The black wires of the malicious power of [Subjugate] faded away like strands of broken spider silk, and Onychinusa watched the standing foes with sneering derision as the masked fanatics panicked. She dared a glance behind, where Castro had left a scene of similar magnitude, then focused on her targets.

Eight spellcasters that were her peer at S-rank levied their magic at her, and she isolated the one which did not use shamanic magic to assault. When the spell left her foe’s hand in the form of a great trident of lightning, she cast the C-rank [Requite]. Onychinusa’s spirits ensured his spell immediately turned against him, and electricity spread along the floor he stood, burning his compatriots.

Malicious weapons constructed of spirits headed toward Onychinusa, but with will alone her body burst into magic, soaring away through the vast empty cavern. She did not dare look back as she traversed as magical mist, and before her enemies even knew it, she stood at the fortress they had passed by on their way in. Shortly after, Castro manifested with her, spirits dancing away from his body. Truthfully, she hadn’t been expecting his escape. He had volunteered for this task for a reason, it seemed.

“How did you manage to use shamanic magic with so many others possessing that power nearby?” Onychinusa questioned in wonder.

“Carefully,” the old man said, brushing out a spot of his gray robe that had been badly burnt. “Well... I would say we did more than our duty. Their army will be in abject chaos.” He turned his head back, where the first of the army headed by Galamon began to emerge from the tunnels, the commander himself at the head. “And I think that man can capitalize on it.”

“You said a lot more than I asked,” Onychinusa said, and then vanished into formless magic once again. She still lingered in the air, watching the battlefield from above. Castro sighed, looking out into the dwarven city. The light of Emptiness had left it, in part, but vestiges still burned strong...

And they would burn forever, Onychinusa supposed, so long as the Castellan of the Empty lived. But that wasn’t a sure thing, anymore.

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When Argrave came to, he saw a place of darkness bathed in teal light and questioned if, somehow, the spear forged by the Alchemist had failed to take them out of the dwarven city. But no—what he saw was merely Mozzahr’s Emptiness, his power carried over with him to Erlebnis’ realm.

In the pitch black, Argrave could only make out the color of the floor—a dull brown that felt strangely fleshy beneath the feet. Realizing they’d succeeded, he sent a brief message to Elenore speaking of their success, giving her the order to begin the attack, and then focused intensely on all around them.

But with the focus came joy—their plan had succeeded. They had abducted Mozzahr, bringing him to Erlebnis’ realm. With this, their two most powerful enemies would come to fight one another. Back on the mortal world, the Ebon Cult would be without its person of worship. And as Mozzahr undoubtedly called on his Emptiness to protect himself in this uncertain scenario, their imbued power would wither away. Their morale would plummet, and their strength would decrease.

To summarize, the playing field had been entirely overturned. But the cost of that... well, they were within the realm of a hostile god with the most powerful human foe Argrave could conceive of ready and willing to tear them apart.

Looking around, Argrave was relieved to see all of his companions were here. The Alchemist still gripped the spear, held out in thrust. And at the same distance away as he’d been before the teleportation, Mozzahr was still suspended there, clutching the spear’s blade.

“Intuition speaks,” said Mozzahr, looking at them as his Emptiness flowed back inside of his right eye, empowering him. “And intuition says I require this spear to return. So...” he reached around his back, grasping where the weapon entered his body. He freed himself with ease, his teal Emptiness taking the place of his flesh so that no blood fell. His hands still firmly gripped the spear. “This is mine.”

“Pull on the spear! Stop him!” Argrave shouted, then held his hand up to call upon his blessing. A new blessing, in fact—Law’s blessing. “In this domain, might and magic are incomprehensibly powerful!”

The golden light of the Domain of Law encircled Argrave and all near him. He felt power in his body and boiling strength in his magic as the buff took effect. Orion and Melanie stepped to join the Alchemist and gripped the white spear, bracing on the ground and pulling tremendously hard. The Alchemist sprouted additional limbs to grip the weapon, and all yanked with all of their might.

Their strength... was wholly insufficient. The spear held steady and immovable, but as more of Mozzahr’s Emptiness flowed into him, he strengthened. He overpowered Orion and the Alchemist, and the weapon began to move deeper into the portal, further into his grasp.

The Alchemist, Argrave, Anneliese, and Durran prepared spells, then hit Mozzahr with a powerful bombardment. The relentless pull forward stopped as the Castellan freed one hand to conjure a ward to protect himself. Even despite Argrave using multiple blood magic spells, Durran and the Alchemist using S-rank spells, and Anneliese contributing amply... his single ward enhanced by his Emptiness held firm against them. It glowed teal, indicating he’d infused it with the mythical power he possessed.

“Damn it! Why am I pulling?” Melanie questioned, then released it to grab her greatsword she’d dropped to help. She thrust it straight through the portal the spear stabbed into, and her blade traveled through the tear in space. When it appeared suddenly, stabbing right at his eye, Mozzahr released his grip on the spear to defend himself. He overestimated the attack, to their benefit. With a simple flick of his wrist, her blade shattered, and she cried out as the sheer force reverberated into her arm.

But his grip faltered, and Orion and the Alchemist both pulled the spear out with tremendous speed. Mozzahr reached through the portal, seeking to regain contact, but the Alchemist moved faster. Arms sprouted from his body, grabbing all of them, and then he completed the spell [Worldstrider]. Mozzahr couldn’t get contact in time... and so they disappeared, ferried by spirits.

As soon as Argrave perceived they were elsewhere, he cried out, “In this domain, we are hidden from all.”

Golden light enveloped them, but Argrave collapsed to one knee. Using the Domain of Law in quick succession was quite draining, and he felt like sleep might claim him at any minute. Darkness surrounded them on all sides, only partially abated by the natural light emitted by the Alchemist’s white spear.

“Holy hell. Why in the hell did I come here?” Melanie said, her voice panic and pain both. She stared at her zweihander—the blade had completely broken, and she held only a handle and a hilt. “He broke my fingers. Just slapped my blade, and my damned fingers broke,” she whimpered. Looking at her, Argrave could see her fingers were indeed badly bent.

“Take it easy. In Argrave’s Domain of Law, that monster will not be able to find us without tremendous luck,” Anneliese assured her, casting a healing spell. The fingers corrected themselves, and Melanie went from whimpering to breathing heavily in fear.

A great vibration passed through the ground—like an earthquake, almost, and more rumblings followed shortly after. A howl of unnatural rage cut through the air, like the scream of a thousand demons. More accurately, it was the scream of one demon—Mozzahr.

“He’s pissed,” Durran chuckled bitterly.

Argrave felt his wits back together enough to stand to his feet. “Good. He’s going to be a big, huge distraction for us, rampaging through Erlebnis’ place in blind, furious pursuit. And there are two ways out of here—this spear, or the more conventional way. Either will take him a long time.” He looked at the Alchemist. “How far away are we from him?”

“Some miles,” the towering man answered, looking at the spear. There were chips in the blade. Mozzahr had managed to chip a weapon forged from the blessing of a god, and crafted in tandem with several others, with his grip strength alone.

Argrave walked to Melanie and put his hand on her shoulder. “You saved us back there.”

“Got lucky,” Melanie disagreed. “Half a thousand things could’ve gone different back there. He could’ve crawled through the portal initially. If he hadn’t flinched...”

“But he did flinch,” Argrave pointed out. “He got flustered, acted a little imprudently. And that’s because he’s a human, not a god.”

“An elf, actually, Your Majesty,” Orion said. “And his power... unfathomable. Even with one arm, he was both our physical betters. I shudder to imagine his power when all of his Emptiness fills his being.”

“Where the hell are we?” Durran questioned, looking around. “Want to light up the place, but... kind of scared to.”

“We are in the eighty-thousandth Annal of the Universe,” the Alchemist declared. “Argrave informed me it was kept empty. This place shall be our springboard to Erlebnis’ other archives. Mozzahr’s presence will distract Erlebnis, demand his attention... but in the meanwhile, we must hurry. There is much to steal, and I am rather greedy.”