by TJ Reynolds
This was all up to him.
If he couldn’t kill this creature, it didn’t matter what happened between Rhona and Hastings. They’d all be dead anyhow. All of Hintar might in fact be in danger.
Each encounter with the black fungus ran through Kai’s mind. From the first black-coated spider he killed in the tunnels to the spider queen herself, Kai flicked through the memories, searching.
The answer came soon after.
Hoping his spell scales functioned in the same fashion as before, Kai reared up on his hind legs. He didn’t have hands to cast through, and he couldn’t hold his glaive to save his life.
Instead, he filled his lungs with cold air, and mentally triggered Flame Spear.
Ether charged through his system, burning in his limbs as it raced into his chest.
Then he was flame itself.
Utterly filled with beckoning fire, Kai released his mighty spell.
The pangolin roared, its black-as-night claws glowing with Abyss ether as it too prepared to unleash a powerful spell.
Kai’s simply came first.
The plume of dense Fire ether rushed from Kai’s throat like an endless fountain.
Shrieking, the pangolin tried to turn its back, tried desperately to find some escape from the torrent of flame.
It had nowhere to go, and its bulky frame prevented it from dodging or evading the fire.
The black fungus that coated and formed its body burst alight, scorching the monster to its bones in a manner of seconds.
Rather than cast the spell a second time, in his dragon form, Kai discovered he could hold the spell in place.
His ether drained.
Ever hotter, the gout of fire etched deep holes in the abyssal monster’s body. The gleaming length of bones were exposed first and then the organs beneath.
Soon, Kai saw the pounding of its fell heart as its flesh melted away.
Then its organs caught fire as well.
In a mad dash to preserve itself, the beast charged at Kai. It dug its fell claws into the ground, forcing its ravaged body to move.
Kai poured out every ounce of AE he had in his core. He breathed fire until all he could taste was ash and sulfur.
Then the spell ceased.
His ether was expended, and his throat ached from the strain he’d forced on it.
Lumbering ever closer, the beast tensed its muscles to pounce.
The bones in its chest, too badly burned to hold it, snapped like pine trees. The pangolin roared again, this time seeming to lament its own end.
It slid to a halt, the beast’s enormous body still writhing with hungry flame.
It continued to burn long after Kai turned back into a man.
Almost as soon as Kai’s reserves bottomed out, he felt a chill wind run through his core. The nine-sided Mandala within dimmed slightly, and then pain enveloped him.
Not as terrible as his initial transformation, and combined with the balm of overwhelming relief, Kai surrendered as his body shifted forms.
Naked, exhausted, and drained of all ether, Kai collapsed on the stone floor at the bottom of the Sunken Keep. I did it, he told himself with pride. Now what in Yugos’ domain is Rhona doing?
He glanced to see the Shimmering Shield Wall winking out of existence, the two combatants still locked in a silent and frozen contest.
Kai wanted to go to her, to cut the vile man’s throat and save her from whatever strange state she was caught within.
Instead, he slumped to the ground and lost consciousness.
47
Mind Over Body
Rhona
So much pain, cold, and struggle outside.
Poor Kai, Rhona thought. He is fighting so hard.
Within the placid realm of Gold Mind, such ultimately futile efforts felt strange to her.
Yet she knew her duty still. Too many had sacrificed their lives for her to fade away in this bliss, as tempting as that might sound.
Besides, she wasn’t alone.
Rhona stood in the center of a vast, golden dome. The light within was diffuse, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. After finally reaching this place, the answer to the Hastings problem became clear.
She’d known how much he relied on his gauntlet. The mechanism was a morbid feature for any monk to insist upon. Even as he fell like a comet from the tower, blasting apart the stone tiles in front of Ban’s keep, she’d seen the flaw.
Some arcane mage or twisted and fallen monk had done the colonel a disservice.
Rhona did not know how the gauntleted function precisely, but its overarching goal was plain. Hastings could tap into any other creature’s core directly and pull their Progression directly into his own.
Such an advantage made sense when considering Earth Cores. There was no other way to destroy an Earth Core and obtain its ether, at least none that she’d heard of.
With such a device, however, Hastings’ core was completely vulnerable.
All she had to do was tap into that vulnerability.
With Gold Mind, such a feat was simple enough.
Gold Mind granted understanding. Understanding of self came first, but immediately following, understanding of other came.
Touching Hastings’ gauntlet had been paramount to touching his foul Mandala.
Had he also been a master of the Gold Mind technique, well, she wasn’t sure what would have happened. Might have been we’d have struggled till one of us proved dominant. Or maybe we’d both have died. Either outcome would see me as the victor, Rhona mused pleasantly.
She turned to her companion.
Hastings stood beside her, his mouth gaping, eyes searching the golden expanse around him.
He’d been like this since the two had first entered this space. Though such trifles like humor and pleasure were secondary here, Rhona could still intuit how his now-silent mouth was a beautiful irony. Where has the bold commander gone? she asked the mute man. Where is your taste for cruelty and power now?
She could have watched his helplessness for an hour or another century. An act of such petty vengeance was beneath her though as well as beneath the Gold Mind.
So, without further pause, she placed her palm over the man’s forehead.
And like he’d done to her during the battle between the Hintari and Brintoshi forces, she dredged the man’s memories, searching for much-needed information.
Pain and pleasure in equal parts resonated through her body. His body, she reminded herself.
She was Hastings in this place and could only experience his memories from his point of view.
The man wasn’t a commander yet, but a promising young lieutenant in the king’s army.
Rhona felt herself waking from some drug-induced sleep. She was groggy, but an icy power coursed in her veins that made everything feel so right.
She sat up and looked down at her arms.
One was well-muscled, but nothing was out of the ordinary.
The other, she knew, was the one Hastings had paid for.
The gauntlet shimmered with ether, the strange device biting mercilessly into his flesh. A second and third attachment had been made at his elbow and shoulder.
Hastings flexed his hand, feeling the power he’d just acquired.
“I see you’ve returned to the land of the living,” a feeble voice observed. “Tell me, young man, how do you feel?”
“I feel… complete,” Hastings responded.
He sat up and looked around. Rhona thought they might be in the laboratory of an alchemist, perhaps, or else some hedge wizard’s hut. Herbs hung from the rafters in clusters. A long work bench rested against the far wall, littered with strange implements and devices.
Hastings faced the old man who glared up at him expectantly. “You’ve done well, old man. I will be sure your name or reputation isn’t sullied in this deal. Though…” Hastings said, pausing to lock eyes with the mage. “Some already whisper your name in the wrong circles. Caution would be advisable.�
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“Certainly! Once payment has been made, I do plan on traveling to Kaltan. They are less… restrictive of the arcane arts than the Brintoshi court is.”
The mention of payment caused a ripple of annoyance to pass through Hastings. Still reveling in the power of his enhanced body, he walked over to a nearby chair. His officer’s coat hung there, and reaching inside the front pocket, he pulled out a leather pouch.
He tossed it to the old man. “Here. Our business is through, understood?”
The wizard cackled to himself, performing a slow and awkward dance. “Fine. You won’t hear any complaints from me,” he said as he opened the pouch.
Inside were perfectly cut gemstones. It was enough for the man to buy an estate and fund it for two lifetimes.
Such riches didn’t belong in the hands of the low.
Turning away, the old man shuffled to his work bench and stored the jewels in a small chest.
When he turned back, fear had filled his eyes. “What are you doing? Surely, you are pleased, my lord.”
“I am not your lord,” Hastings said, lifting his gauntleted hand. “And I am surely pleased.”
The wizard reached into a pocket at the front of his robes, perhaps hoping to activate a charm or spell. But Hastings’ new weapon had already activated.
Palm on the old man’s head, Hastings felt the reserve of Progression just waiting there.
He tugged on that feeling and gasped as a torrent of rich power flowed up the device and into his core.
Hastings left shortly after, the bag of jewels back in his pocket, and the lowly hedge wizard a husk on the floor.
Rhona’s perspective faded and she searched for a new memory. She let her need guide her. A single question held the center of her focus: why had Hastings risked so much to attack?
When she emerged again, Hastings stood in a long and ornate hall.
A middle-aged man sat before her, dressed in rich robes and attended by a handful of guards. “Don’t you understand, Victor? That… evil device lowers us all! What do you think the king should say when he hears of your perversion?”
“It isn’t a perversion, uncle,” Hastings replied. Rhona was shocked at how humble and beseeching the proud man’s voice was. “Just think of it. Imagine the strength of the Brintoshi army should every soldier, shield sergeant and up, possess a gauntlet like my own. We could crush all of Anvar.”
“We already have that power! And it is our duty to use that strength honorably,” Hastings’ uncle replied. “My decision is final. Remove that device and submit to the court’s judgement or you will not be welcome in my hall.”
Silence hung between the two.
Rhona suspected this wasn’t the first time the two men had argued. It was merely the first time the gauntlet had been the topic involved.
Hastings sighed, his disappointment obvious. “Very well. I’ve spoken with a few members of that illustrious council you mention. Not all are opposed to my methods. In fact, I’ve been given the Vermillion Guard.”
Turning, Hastings added one more insult before taking his leave. “And uncle, don’t think I’ll miss your gardens or your vaunted estate. First Duke you may be, but many whisper that you lack the strength to hold your position. I wouldn’t be surprised if you found an army at your gate within the year.”
Once more, the world shifted.
Rhona stored the information she’d gained for later thought. Forcing her will upon the man’s mind one final time, she emerged in a new setting.
Hastings stood in a back alley. By the smell and clamor, Rhona guessed it was the capital, Creshon, or some other busy port city. Two men stood opposite, both as grimy and foul as the gutters nearby.
One spoke as if in response to a question. “King’s asleep, sir. He’s old and tired. Hasn’t paid any mind to much of anything, my informants say. I doubt a better time could be found. How’s the saying go, sir? The wolf bites when it’s hungry. That’s it.”
“Your sources think I should act now then?” Hastings asked in an amused tone.
“Yessir! Hintar is as aloof and unguarded as ever. And Kaltan is always scheming. I think the vine is ripe, sir. The time to act is now.”
Rhona’s view changed as Hastings turned to examine a passing horse. A mail carrier riding a white mare trotted past. She felt Hastings relax slightly. He was fearful of being caught speaking with these men, and by the looks of their coats alone, she knew why.
At last, he turned to the conspirators. “Very well. Let the birds do what they do best. But remember, Rob, the rumor must be precise. Brintosh and Kaltan are planning a war together. They intend to invade Hintar and conquer it once and for all.”
The men both agreed, nodding happily and rubbing their grubby hands together.
Before they left, Hastings reached out and grasped Rob’s shoulder.
The man flinched, expecting a blow or a fit of rage perhaps. Instead, Hastings said in a low and ominous voice, “And, Rob, make sure you let everyone know where this rumor came from. Understood?”
“Yes, of course, sir! Came from the king’s own mouth and a few of the council members as well.” Smiling at his fellow, Rob added, “Don’t worry. We’ll be sure every fool and farmer in Brintosh hears that the Tiger and the Phoenix are marching on the Dragon kingdom again.”
Having learned what she came for, Rhona released her grip on Hastings’ mind. She removed herself from the myriad strands of his memories, shrugging free of his foul consciousness gratefully.
She stood and observed the man’s face for a time.
Still caught between wonder and terror, this monster of a man seemed so tame now, so easy to contain. Strange, she thought, how much death and destruction a single man is capable of. Too bad he didn’t apply his ambition toward something worthy and good.
It wasn’t hard to understand his uncle’s fury. Hastings was a man of great promise. Young and clever, and filled with ambition, he was any lord’s dream of an heir.
Too much ambition, and selfishly aligned, and he’d turned into a fiend though.
Rhona sighed, allowing the peace of Gold Mind hold her to the single task that remained.
She reached out and pressed her hand into the man’s belly. This construct that was Gold Mind wasn’t a physical realm. Her hand passed through her enemy’s flesh without resistance. Only when she touched the edge of his core did she encounter any sensation at all.
With great deliberation, Rhona took one of the seven sides of Hastings’ Mandala between finger and thumb. Her own core shuddered from the contact. His life of evil had left a stain in his core, one that could never be washed free.
Then, feeling no remorse or hesitation, Rhona plucked the portion of his Mandala free.
Hastings’ core collapsed immediately, lines of blue ether forming like veins on his face and hands and arms.
Ether drained from every part of his being, flooding out the gushing rupture in his core.
With great regret, Rhona forced herself to return to the physical realm. Denying the resilient peace of Gold Mind challenged her willpower. And had she been alone, without Kai, Honor, or Ban to consider, she couldn’t have done it.
Her fate had been intertwined with others though, and she knew their sacred task was far from over.
Closing her eyes, Rhona collapsed the Gold Mind construct and found herself staring up into Hastings’ terrible face.
She shoved the man off and found her legs. Ban called out to her mind, but she ignored him for the time being. Searching briefly, Rhona saw Kai, curled up on his side a few feet away, nude and bleeding from a hundred cuts.
His chest rose and fell, however.
All was well in the Sunken Keep.
Facing her vanquished enemy once more, Rhona stared with pity as Hastings gaped like a landed fish, a fog of thick ether forming around him. His ruptured core would leak for a while longer, but soon it would be fully depleted.
Then the monster from Brintosh would be dead, and with him, all
the lies and political maneuvering as well.
“Good riddance,” was all she said before stumbling to Kai’s side and seeing to his wounds.
48
Bird Song and Celebrations at the Sunken Keep
Ban
The following day had been one of rest, restoring order, and, in Ban’s case, tidying up.
Though relieved everyone survived the ordeal, Ban still couldn’t quite swallow how much damage had been caused to his precious tower.
Not only did a unit of soldiers die all through the keep, their blood and viscera seeping everywhere possible, but then Hastings and the pangolin had made a bigger mess of things. Restricted to the Earth Core rule that prevented him from altering his dungeon or creating new champions or minions, Ban had to wait until every enemy was dead or fled.
The two Brintoshi who’d chosen to flee were long gone before Hastings finally passed.
And as soon as the commander was gone, the first thing Ban did was absorb the hundreds of bodies everywhere. His stores surged as he absorbed armor and weapons as well, each adding to his IM and AM reserves.
Then there’d been the business with the beast. The pangolin alone took Ban over an hour to absorb and process. Every inch of the monster’s corpse was impossibly dense. Ban suspected the creature had risen from the depths steeped in Abyss ether.
As he consumed it, he processed the physical aspect of the beast first and then had to manage a wellspring of ether afterwards.
With so many resources, Ban simply had to indulge his creative mind.
The night after the invasion, while all were sleeping, Ban had taken the initiative to beautify his new home. The keep itself could be considered later. What Ban threw himself at was redesigning the chasm itself.
Ban ate away at a large portion of the stone encircling the rim of the chasm. This would increase the amount of sunlight throughout any given day. It also meant a much longer bridge. Rather than master a new design, Ban left that for another day. For now, he simply extended the bridge one more twenty-foot length.