The source of the tar was found late, but didn’t come as a surprise. Artorian and Yvessa scratched their heads, wondering how to handle the current Core with all the grayish-black lines spreading out from it.
To the great misery of them all, the Core the tar was spreading from was Eternium. Yvessa verbalized her distaste. “That’s a lot of tar. The entire branch is afflicted. I’m not even sure what to do here. This wasn’t in the instructions. Do we just cut the entire branch off? What do we do about the Core?”
Artorian shrugged. “Why not just pluck it? Stick it somewhere else. Not like it can stay where it is.”
Yvessa waffled on the suggestion. “I don’t know… That seems dangerous. Maybe we could… hey. No. Don’t pull the—”
*Pop*!
The green Wisp shrieked while inhaling, the sound one of absolute panic. When nothing further happened, she hovered away without a word and plunked down on a non-tarry branch just to yell into the bark. To cope.
Artorian hovered mid-air, Eternium’s Core kept in hand like it was just some apple. Odd how a triple S-ranked entity just… neatly fit in his palm. This thing could have easily wiped him out of existence outside the Soul Space, but here… even Eternium was limited to remaining one rank below Cal’s current level. Odd how it was so quiet. Should he shake it like a snow globe? May~ybe not. There were people in there that he cared about. Such as Decorum. Best to treat the Core with care, even if Eternium strongly disagreed with the way he did things inside of that realm. He spoke to it, unsure if the core could hear him at all. “Everything’s going to be alright.”
When Yvessa returned, he showed her that Eternium was just fine. “All’s well. I’ve got the Core. Let’s just slice the whole branch off and… What’s that zipping noise?”
The Administrator looked around, trying to get a fix on the sharp whistle that was clearly getting closer. Oh, it was a Wisp! The charging orange glow clearly meant to smash him right in the face, but Artorian snatched him before impact. “Gotcha!”
The orange Wisp fought against the Mage’s fingers, released only after the mad bouncing ceased. Artorian was never intending on keeping the lad trapped, but once free it was moody. “You let my dungeon go this instant!”
Artorian blinked, and glanced at the green Core in his hand. Orange Wisp, green diamond Core. Eternium had started out as an earth affinity dungeon? Well, no wonder he was a perfectionist with tunnel vision! That was exactly the downside Invictus had spoken of. That made it nice and clear why he wanted the game system to fall in line so much, even without considering the Order Law at play. “Sure. Where would you like me to put him? I won’t put him back in the tar.”
The fighting spirit of the orange Wisp petered out. The plucker wasn’t here to cause him a grievance? That would be a first, and the moody voice calmed without losing any of its haste. “Erm… let me just find a spot.”
“What’s your name?” Artorian directed his question to the distracted Wisp, thinking it was polite to ask. Calling him mandarin came to mind, but that was just to be a snoot.
The orange Wisp turned to face him, not seeing a good location in the vicinity. “I’ve had a few. It’s hard to tell, but I’m older than Eternium is. Call me Oberon. Please do not stand on courtship social convention with me. I am tired of the displays, and quite sick of them. Yes, I know courtship means what it does. Still no, if you don’t mind. Could I ask you for your name?”
Artorian smiled, and took a breath to answer. He didn’t. There was a glint to Oberon’s orange sheen. A suspicious one. He’d already had his fill with Henry, and there was no celestial way he wasn’t discovering the details of this one!
Rather than verbalize a response, Artorian channeled Mana to his Law, desiring to perceive what Fae trickery was at play. While he expected shenaniganry, he hadn’t expected the sheer depth of the network he was currently looking at. “Well… I would say you can ask. Though, based on what I’m looking at, the particular phrasing of your question implies that if I tell you my name, I am quite literally giving it to you. It will no longer be mine. That’s quite a sneaky trick of you, Oberon. I do not grant you my name, but I will let you know what it is. My name is Artorian, and I would say it is nice to meet you if not for this guile you just slapped me with.”
Oberon’s grinning smile was toothy. Even if he didn’t have any teeth. “Oh, I like you. Tricks like this are what keep my dungeon on his toes. Eternium is clever now, but in the beginning he loved to just ignore me and what I said in favor of working on his projects. He learned different, becoming very wary of the wording involved in any interaction with me. It snapped him from his trances, and made him wise to both my wiles, and that we should be working on a broader range of projects. It’s also what got him so good at contracts and land oaths. Always pay attention to the fine print. Spoken or otherwise.”
Artorian quietly listened, but tilted his head as another light-blue dot was rushing to their current location. “Friend of yours?”
Oberon sighed softly. Looked like this was all the time he was going to get before needing to get back to work. “That would be Niall. Celestial aquamarine Wisp. He’s a good sort for all his work in chasing after… well. Me. Much like a certain dungeon, I also tend to focus on topics rather deeply. Niall is my support Wisp for making sure I don’t dig myself into a hole I can’t get out of. Niall can be scatterbrained, so if I’m not paying attention to my surroundings and him, then I am inviting disaster upon my house. Not that he does anything bad, but he gets distracted like I get focused. Nice balance.”
The Administrator understood that kind of circus act, glancing over his shoulder to silently look at a waiting Yvessa. She was already tapping a spoon onto open air, as if she pretended there was a hand there. He could just about feel the impact. Best get back to work. “Right, well I’m going to help cut this branch off and get to restoring. Maybe if it heals back the way it was, and we get lucky, we can plunk the Core right back where it belongs. How about that?”
Oberon liked that idea. Especially because that would be convenient. “I’m all for it. Let Niall and I help to make sure the restoration goes well. It will be easier with three Wisps, rather than one. Though she seems… scarily capable. Why does she make me fear for my life?”
Artorian snickered. “That would be the natural response, my new friend. Do be wary of that spoon. It’s dangerlicious.”
*Thunk*.
“Ow.”
Yvessa’s spoon dangerously threatened another strike. “Distracting yourself from work by making friends? I’m getting the distinct feeling he’s another ploying plotter. Oberon, was it? Are you going to hover there all pretty, or will you get your hovering light over here and help?”
The orange Wisp stilled. A momentary flush of pink crossing his edges as he turned to address Niall. “Did you hear that? She called me pretty.”
The aquamarine Wisp said nothing in reply, and casually hovered a foot backwards. *Thunk*! Oberon vibrated like an oversized bell. His flight pattern anything but straight as he wavered in an uncertain line until Niall caught him. “Ow! Niall! You’re supposed to protect me from danger!”
The sigh from the celestial affinity Core came with depth. “I’ve explained this before, Obi. Large, deadly threat? Absolutely. Yet another angry and upset lady that is chasing you with a kitchen implement for something you did all by yourself? No.”
Oberon was mockingly affronted, clearly playing. “You are a Wisp Champion! You protect me from everything!”
Niall let the orange Wisp go, his response matching his agreeing nod. “Including yourself. She’s going to hit you again.”
The spoon whizzed down and missed. Oberon had spun out of the way, moving with perfect flight in a pattern only a Wisp could. Observing the event made Artorian smile. That kind of sharp-angled precision flying had been so swift that the afterglow of an open orange triangle slowly faded from his eyes. Now that was a perfect flight!
His smile also faded when the spoon tu
rned his direction. “Hey now, I’m just waiting on the verdict! Don’t look at me with that murderous cook gaze like I just nicked the last block of cheese from your pantry. Are we cutting the whole branch or what?”
Yvessa stared him down like a mouse that had in fact taken the last block of cheese. It was Niall that helped make the decision, since Oberon was ready for full evasive maneuvers, and he recognized that the green Wisp was, in some odd fashion, young. “The infection spread far too deep. This entire branch needs to go. We will need more Mages than just yours, Yvessa. Though if he’s all we have, then so be it. The Core in his hand is what Oberon was all up in arms for. Given there’s no threat to Eternium, we can begin right away. I know where to cut the branch, and no other Cores live further down the path. It is safe to excise. Please move back a moment. I am making the cut.”
As the others moved away, aquamarine light solidified around Niall. The oblong forms shaped into long blades of matching-color grass, visibly sharpening as the edges took on an intimidating golden glow. The sound of whips moved through the air, taking the span of less than an eighth of a second to make all the precision incisions. Without so much as a croak or a crack, the tarry branch began to fall. A sound emanated from Oberon akin to the snap of fingers, and flame surrounded the falling branch. “That should be clean ash by the time it hits the ground. Nothing like a little fertilizer.”
Oberon tried to look like he’d done all the heavy lifting, but the other three were staring down, rather than at him. Well, that was no good! It was just a burning branch, nothing interesting to see there. Looking down himself, his expression moved to match the frown of the other three. The branch was no longer burning. Stranger still, it wasn’t falling. It just hovered awkwardly in mid-air. Yvessa chimed in, uncertain. “Is that supposed to happen?”
The branch crumpled in on itself. This time, the expected croaking, crunching, and cracking sounds very much did accompany the display. The condensing pops and tarry splotches continued to collapse into a single space, until a shiny black orb was all that remained.
Oberon and Niall answered in unison. “No.”
“Ah. Then this does not bode well.”
Chapter Forty-Three
The orb didn’t stay an orb, and the onlookers were speechless as further changes occurred. From the tarry substance, a muscled arm cadaverously tore itself free. Using the sphere itself as a floor to push up and away from, more and more of a quasi-human shaped body erupted free from the diminishing source.
A pit formed in Artorian’s stomach. A painfully familiar one as the creature wrested itself out of the tar. When it had, the orb was no more. Matter consumed in the forming of this… thing. It spoke like a gutter, and then Artorian knew. “Sumptuous suffrage! Extricated at last!”
Artorian swallowed, his hand weakly motioning for the Wisps to run. He spoke hesitantly, trying to find solace in what were proving to be poorly rooted facts. “This isn’t right. You died. You should be dead. I watched you break into a thousand chunks from the inside out. Banished back to the abyss.”
The stretching being deformed. Breaking its own neck to twist its vision all the way around, even if it was just its head turning. “Curious. You know of me? Pleasing that the tales of Torture Savant Ghreziz still live!”
Ghreziz popped as the majority of his body moved while the head remained immobile. He grinned maliciously wide, even if some expected solidity was lacking as he checked himself over. “What a peculiar form. No matter. The tar will provide me mastery soon. Though it appears I was not entombed for long enough. No matter.”
The greater demon squeezed his claw shut, and a wave of brisk infernal power resonated across his forming knuckles. It easily spiked into the A-ranks, even without a Mage serving as host body. Ghreziz considered this minor setback, then realized a body was conveniently available. Right before him! As an added bonus, he pointed at the Core in Artorian’s hand. “What a fate it must be to be both fortuitous and lucky. I emerge, and come to face a mind that both knows me and brings me what I seek! Without so much as me needing to ask.”
The demon’s eyes formed glossy as onyx, and with his vision came confusion. Ghreziz kept his claw outstretched, as if awaiting the gift of an offering. Up until this moment, he had thought the Mage a servant, and the Core merely a delivery. The Mage’s words hadn’t properly clicked, save that it had recognized him for what he was. A demon of the deep abyss. A savant. Forming the ability to see, the uncanny likeness to an undesirable misery was all that stained the abyssalite’s thoughts. “Wretched foulness! You must be the son of that long-bearded fool responsible for my last vanquishing.”
This seemed like an excellent spot where they should run for it. Artorian had the thought, turned just as swiftly, and managed a single step before he realized something else was wrong. Yvessa’s invisible face was wrenched apologetically, and his eyes followed the tether of Mana she was holding. She had already begun the process of mending the branch, and his Mana was locked to it. He wasn’t going anywhere over thirty paces. Abyss. No wonder they hadn’t run. Just like him, Yvessa was entirely unable to flee.
The lethargy of their responses, as they spent precious seconds realizing their additional problems, provided Ghreziz the moments he needed to parse memories back together. He wasn’t all here yet, but he would be. Barry’s plan, after all, was foolproof. “Yesss. I remember now. You have his nose. That blasphemous sympathy Mage. I was going to welcome you with my offerings, but instead I believe I’ll crush you as an insect. If merely to slake my thirst for vengeance.”
A fight was pending, and even though it was four versus one, Artorian did not like his odds. The last time, he’d had options. A Mana storm, frame of reference dilation, Presence control, Auric effects… all of those were currently canned. He was bleeding Mana, rooted to Yvessa’s vicinity, and was certainly going to need to protect her. Oberon and Niall were wildcards, but he felt the sudden weight of the Core in his hand. Reminded that this also happened to be exactly what his old enemy was after. He didn’t quite have a grasp on Barry before, but given the company he kept… Artorian decided he was going to rip him asunder.
If he survived today.
Pocketing Eternium inside his robe where Grace had hidden, his worried eyes glanced over to the other two Wisps. His voice the barest of whispers, even though he was certain they all could hear him. “Please tell me you can fight.”
Ghreziz chuckled, and an orange light became responsible for pulling Artorian’s robe by the neckline, tugging him out of the way of an infernally laced fist that whooshed through the space his face had been. So fast! Ghreziz was of a higher rank than him? He couldn’t win here!
Aquamarine grass blades whipped through the air, blocking the second blow as Oberon again pulled Artorian out of the way of what would have been a nasty snatch. The orange ball fumed, red on the edges. “Pay attention! You are distracted! Stop focusing so hard on what’s eating you!”
Oberon’s priority was for the thing not to get its claws on his dungeon, so pulling this Mage out of the way was the best he could do while Niall stepped up to the plate. Wisp Champion wasn’t just some fancy title, as aquamarine crystal blades sprung into existence, slashing at the tarry fiend with calculated abandon. “Obi, go!”
Artorian’s eyes cleared when he caught up to the reality of the situation. An embarrassing display for him. He was so caught up thinking about what he couldn’t do that he hadn’t paid attention to all the things he still could do. Ember’s change of axiom came to mind.
Lesson one: If you can’t, try anyway.
Channeling Mana to his feet, the Mage darted to the underside of the branch. His feet stuck to it without difficulty as the Core he had just stuffed into his inner pocket was palmed. Pushing it against Oberon mid-movement with some sleight of hand. Artorian wordlessly mouthed ‘Go!’ at the Wisp. His stride continued unbroken as he came up the branch from the other end, a technique he thought he’d never use springing to life in his hand.
From the Elves of the wood, he had learned utility techniques that had fallen to the wayside. However, those techniques were refined, not reliant on Cal’s currently non-functioning Pylon system. He didn’t need to test it, he could feel the lack of connection and hear the loud static as easily as he could breathe. Purple Heartwood’s ‘Instant Bo’ came to mind.
With a brush of his fingers across the Silverwood bark, the technique allowed him to grasp a piece while moving. Rearing up as his arm rose, a Silverwood staff successfully formed out of the branch, the business edge of which swiftly descended upon the top of Ghreziz’s unwitting head.
*Thunk*!
The staff held! Smashing into the bark from Marie chasing him, and not leaving a dent, had become useful. The Silverwood was sturdier than he. Ghreziz didn’t appreciate the finer details of the technique. Instead he broke his own neck, twisting his head to face the miscreant while temporarily locked down by Niall’s crystal grass.
A gout of infernal fire roasted across Artorian’s form, yet when the blackened flames faded, only a bark-quality skin coated the young warrior. From underneath the impromptu helmet, defiant radiant eyes shone. “Baobab. Fire immunity.”
Taking a breath in the tiny moment that Ghreziz was bewildered that his flames for some reason hadn’t melted the nuisance from the inside out. He also gained enough control over himself to outright rip free of the grass whips, shattering Niall’s technique and forcing him to reform it.
Anima: A Divine Dungeon Series (Artorian's Archives Book 6) Page 34