Chapter 356: One Person's Entrance...

Power gathered around the chancellor like light blazing from the sun.

The air shook.

Alex’s mana senses screamed.

His mouth felt dry.

He’d seen the ancient wizard exert his power before…but he was never quite prepared for the magnitude of raw power he commanded. The eye on Baelin’s staff blazed like a falling star, while the incantation pouring from the goatman’s lips throbbed in his ears.

The Skinless monsters stopped what they were doing, seeming to sense that something wasn’t right.

Then the skies began to darken at ferocious speed.

And their world shook.

As Baelin’s spell completed, the ravine suddenly shuddered.

Crack!

Monsters bellowed; towering cliffs melted into cascades of broken earth and stone. Trees wavered and collapsed. The earth roared and rock heaved from the soil.

…and then, the bottom of the ravine split apart.

A quake rumbled through the dungeon, tearing it in two, sending Ravener-spawn tumbling into crevices that opened beneath them like hungry mouths. As frantic cries rose above the roar of earth and stone, Skinless Ones scattered throughout the forest thundered back to the ravine to find cliff faces heaving and buckling, sending them plummeting to their deaths.

“First the egg is cracked,” Baelin shouted, watching the dungeon split apart, revealing scores of collapsing chambers underground. “And then it is scrambled.”

His staff’s eye flashed.

A wave of power soared, and struck the air.

The wind screamed.

“Stay close, Alex, even I might be unable to guarantee your safety if you stray,” the ancient wizard warned.

It took all of the young wizard’s will not to wrap himself around the chancellor’s leg like a terrified cat. He’d become much braver from his adventures…but this? This was what he imagined the end of the world could look like.

The wind howled, the unnatural clouds shifted and boiled like rushing water, turning on themselves. And they turned. And turned. The air spun faster and faster.

Alex was witnessing the phenomenon Baelin was creating, but his mind couldn’t believe it.

He remembered the tour guide at Noarc’s tower telling them about violent events in the atmosphere of the Barrens when too much wild mana seeped into the air. Whirling winds that levelled everything they touched were created.

If he remembered correctly, the phenomenon was called…

Whoosh!

A tornado.

The air whipped and swirled into a funnel that reached down from the sky, shrieking as it touched the ground. Chaos filled the ravine; the tornado hungrily tore through widening crevices, grabbing earth, stone, and Skinless Ones like they were weightless. Boulders the size of wagons spun in dizzying patterns, upheaving trees, or terrified Ravener-spawn, it didn’t matter.

In the space of heartbeats, what was once a fearsome dungeon capable of destroying a good size army, was merely dust in the wind. Yet, in all of the destruction, Alex, Claygon and Baelin remained safe in a bubble of air so still, it was like being in a quiet meadow. Within the bubble of stillness and peace, the Thameish wizard witnessed ruined monsters and debris spiralling past them like he was watching a storm from the safety of a cosy hall with a fire blazing in its mantle. Then a thundering bellow reached him.

Horror was being dragged from deep underground.

A Rampart-crusher; an enormous tentacled creature resembling a skinned squid, fought against the wind. Its body was bulbous—as wide around as a Skinless One was tall—and from its frame, a dozen tentacles flailed, each ending in a grasping, six-fingered hand. It drilled its fingers into the earth, clinging to what little solid ground remained.

Naked muscles flexed, straining to hold on.

Bulbous eyes rolled in distress.

And—in the grip of one oversized hand—Alex saw their prize.

“Baelin!” He pointed. “I see the core!”

“I’ve had a Wizard’s Eye on it this whole time. Look at that!”

There was a pulse of mana, and stone walls rose around the Rampart-crusher, trying to shield it from the brutal winds.

Baelin waved a hand like he was shooing a fruit fly.

The wind changed.

Boulders, felled pines, and Skinless Ones launched at the walls, striking them with the force of trebuchet stones. Mana flowed, more walls rose, and abruptly fell in a barrage of Baelin’s making. The Rampart-crusher shuddered as jagged stones raked its flank.

Several raw-looking tentacles split from its torso.

The bellow that followed was lost in the howling wind as it was dragged from its handholds and cast into the gale.

End over end it spun, flailing, still desperate to keep its grip on the dungeon core. But for all of its stone-shattering might, it was powerless in Baelin’s whirlwind. The ancient wizard watched it whip through the air then extended his hand, muttering an incantation.

Mana shuddered.

And a black orb shot from the Rampart-breaker’s fingers, tumbling through the violence around it, straight for Baelin’s outstretched hand.

Shcwoop!

The core slipped into the bubble of calm, and dropped into the chancellor’s waiting palm.

“Excellent, we have our prize,” he said in cheery tones. “Now, let us finish this. I’ll show you a favourite trick of mine.”

With a word of power, Baelin waved his hand.

Shards of obsidian glass materialised in the tornado, whirling counter to the wind. Countless slivers raced through the air like hunting birds, shredding wood, earth, and flesh where they struck. In heartbeats, Ravener-spawn shrivelled into masses of pulp—and near death—the mangled Rampart-breaker raised a tentacle and reached for the orb it was meant to serve and protect, then plunged from the sky.

When the work of the shards was done, only howling wind and the groaning of trembling earth remained.

“And that is that.” Baelin waved his staff once.

The wind died.

The earth stilled.

And the obsidian shards vanished.

A noise deeper than thunder erupted from below as mounds of dirt, timber, rocks and flesh, struck the ground as one. Menacing clouds cleared like they were never there, revealing the gentle light of the early morning sky.

“Bloody hell,” Alex swore.

Where a powerful dungeon once stood, a wasteland of shredded monsters and overturned earth replaced it. It looked like titans had run through the land with the abandon of uncontrollable toddlers smashing sandcastles. Or massive bears digging up anthills.

Massive rabid bears.

“Holy shit,” Alex swore, still stunned by the display of pure power he’d just witnessed.

He definitely wanted to be Baelin when he grew up.

He hovered in the air shaking his head, feeling even more redundant than he had earlier, but by the Traveller, did he ever have a story for Theresa and the cabal!

“As I said,” Baelin said cheerily. “Convenience! Well, now let us find a place to settle for a time. We’ll see if anything comes to investigate the commotion I made. I suspect we might be visited by stragglers, but we could also be lucky enough to have one of those creatures who are so taken with hunting you, show up. However, in the meantime…”

The chancellor held the dungeon core out to Alex.

The orb gave off a wave of frantic energy and he felt its attention fall on him. Its mana recoiled. There was a recognition from the core like there had been in the chitterer dungeon.

But, he could also feel its fear.

“Care to give it a go?” Baelin asked.

###

When the dust had literally settled, Alex and Baelin were ‘camped’ roughly fifty yards south of the ravine. Baelin had conjured a pleasant little campfire while his Wizard’s Eyes patrolled the area. Claygon was watching the ravine. Alex had tasked him with clean up: and at the first sign of stragglers, his beams were primed and ready to start blasting.

The chancellor was watching Alex.

And Alex…watched the dungeon core.

Over a year ago, he’d been in a similar situation, holding a living dungeon core in his hands. He could feel its displeasure. Its mana stung the air, vibrating like a nest of angry bees. Yet, for all its anger, it could do little without a Ravener-spawn, like a ship without a helmsman.

But, he knew it would fight him with everything it had.

He swallowed.

Cold sweat slicked his palms as he called on the Mark, focusing it on the task ahead, controlling a dungeon core. Memories from his struggle in the Cave of the Traveller came back with full force. That battle had tested him to his limits even though that core had been weakened. Its mana was depleted, yet it had still put up enough resistance for him to struggle with it. How much of a fight would this fresh, enraged one give him?

But, he was more skilled at mana manipulation now, unlike back in the Cave of the Traveller when he’d been escaping priests, and Heroes.

“Are you ready?” Baelin asked. “If you are at all hesitant, perhaps you would rather I give it a go first? My original idea was—since in this—you are more experienced than I, you should try to control it first.”

“No, no.” Alex rotated the orb, examining its dead, black surface. “That’s alright, I…I want to do this. I need to do this.”

“Well, then do away, whenever you are ready.”

Alex nodded. “Are you sure you want to try this here instead of back at camp?”

“I would rather we attempt the process here in the wilderness where—we have less constraints—considering your situation. Should anything be revealed, it will be revealed to no one but us. If we successfully engage with this orb and gain a better idea of what we’re dealing with, as well as determine that your secret will not be exposed, we can bring our prize safely back to camp.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Alex said, fighting nerves.

He’d been wanting this confrontation, even imagining it, but now that it was right in front of him, his mind kept conjuring reasons to wait.

But, no.

Time and opportunity were here, he should use them.

The most powerful wizard in all of Generasi was at his side. He was away from anyone that could be at risk, and the orb was at his mercy. Delaying was only feeding his nerves.

“Alright, nothing for it,” Alex said.

Taking a deep breath, he threw his mana into the dungeon core.

And met a resistance he was not prepared for.

He’d been wrong: the dungeon core didn’t come at him like a swarm of angry bees. It came at him with the full fury of a servant of the Ravener: just like in the chitterer cave, but with an intensity and desperation he couldn’t have imagined. Its mana pushed the young wizard back with full force and a hostility that felt personal, promptly expelling him.

Alex frowned, considering what he’d just confirmed.

This thing’s power was as beyond the orb’s in the Cave of the Traveller, as the sun’s was to candlelight. This orb wasn’t drained, and it also seemed fuelled by resentment. If he’d met this much resistance in the Traveller’s Cave, his mind might be mush now.

‘Explains why people controlling dungeon cores isn’t exactly common knowledge,’ he thought. ‘Well, Mr. Mark, we overcame Ito’s Spiral. Let’s see if we can out-wrestle this thing.”

Calling on the Mark, Alex threw himself into the core again and again, pitting his skill and power against its desperation. And at first, desperation won out. Easily.

Baelin watched—as still as a statue—for an hour while Alex struggled to even enter the core’s mana pathways. Yet the ancient wizard never complained or asked a single question. He was just patient.

And so was Alex.

With each failure, he learned a little more about how the dungeon core was resisting him. He learned its pathways: how many mana entrances there were, how quickly its mana could fight him, and the way its power moved through the orb.

As the Mark pointed out what he did right, he began forming a strategy: the dungeon core resisted his mana with pure overwhelming force. Like a predator. It didn’t seem to do ‘finesse.’ It was all about brute force.

And so he split his mana into thousands of strands—as with Hsekiu’s technique—and attacked the dungeon core from every entrance.

Its power sought to block him, but his strands moved with the agility of vipers. He could feel its rising panic trying to fight him off, but too many of his strands moved in too many directions. The core split its attention, throwing power at him over and over again.

And, forced him out.

He started again.

With each attempt, the young wizard went a little further.

Alexander Roth bent all of his will and skill to the task, learning more of its pathways as he did. Its mana trembled.

Now it was easier, like learning the steps of a dance.

He persisted through the early morning, feeling closer to something important: the core’s centre. The dungeon core seemed delirious, frenzied, fighting in panic.

But Alex was determined.

And he’d done this before.

Calling upon a familiar memory from the Mark, he shifted his mana.

Whoom.

A connection.

For an instant, the world disappeared. A thousand images poured into his mind as they had in the Cave of the Traveller when he controlled the core. Dark caves. Battles in places he’d never seen before. A dark la—

The images abruptly vanished, like they’d been halted.

When Alex’s senses returned to the world around him, Baelin was standing.

Mana flowed from the core, reaching out toward the ravine.

The sound of grating stone echoed through the air.

“Alex!” the chancellor shouted in triumph. “My Wizard’s Eye witnessed a wall rising from the dungeon’s remains! You did that?”

“Yeah,” the young wizard panted, sweat pouring from his brow. “Yeah, I did. I actually did that!”

“Well done, my boy!” Baelin patted him on the back. “This is an excellent step forward. Did you…learn anything? Anything that might help us track these clawed creatures?”

“No,” Alex said. “I saw some images…” He told the chancellor what he’d seen. “But…I have no idea what they were. And they were cut off too quickly. …I think something didn’t want me poking around.”

“Hm, well it will not have a say in the matter,” Baelin said.

“Right…but, by the Traveller, I can’t believe it.” Alex watched the dungeon core. It had forced his mana out again, but with less force than before: the more of its power he used, the less it was able to resist. “After a year…sometimes I’d get this notion in my head that I’d imagined what I’d done. But…here it is…solid proof. Baelin, this is big. History-changing big. It brings up so many questions—I-I’ve got to go back in.”

“Hold now,” the ancient wizard placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why not let me have a go? You are exhausted. No sense in trying again when you are worn down.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Alex panted, offering Baelin the orb. “It’s all yours. I could use the break, and if I could do it, you’ll do it in no time.”

“Oh, pfah, what’s a few thousand years of experience?” Baelin chuckled, holding the orb between his palms. “Now, let us see what I can see.”

Alex felt the ancient wizard’s mana spark with overwhelming power.

It was profound, like the tornado he’d commanded.

Very little would be able to stand before it, including the dungeon core…

…which is why Alex was stunned when Baelin frowned.

Without a sound, the chancellor turned the orb over, fixing it with a piercing gaze.

He seemed to be looking deep within it.

Heartbeats passed while he turned the core, his mana boiling around him.

Alex waited for the rush of the dungeon core’s power doing the chancellor’s bidding.

But, it never came.

Heartbeats turned to minutes.

Minutes became an hour.

Yet there was no rush of force: there was only the chancellor’s deepening frown.

“Alex…” he finally said. “I…cannot do this.”

The Thameish wizard thought he misheard. “Pardon?”

“I cannot do this,” Baelin’s voice held a note of astonishment. “It is impossible for me.”