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Page 3720

He took in a deep breath and steadied himself, seeing that Worwal was still looking at him. ‘You’re right,’ he told Garovel, and he put the Core back inside his armor. ‘At the very least, we should consult Abbas before pulling another stunt like that.’

‘Mmhmm. And can you imagine how much shit he and Worwal would give us if we just jumped in there, right now? In the middle of the examination, too? We’d look like huge assholes.’

‘Yeah...’

‘But I like your thinking, kid. You’ve got moxie. Don’t lose it, just ‘cuz I’m fightin’ ya on this one.’

Hector frowned inside his helmet. ‘Kid? You’ve never called me kid before.’

‘Yeah, I’m tryin’ it out. Whaddya think?’

‘...I hate it, honestly. From other people, sure. But from you, egh. No.’

The reaper laughed. ‘Alright, fine.’

They decided to wait patiently for Abbas to finish his examination. Hector thought about sitting down and meditating, but it didn’t take much longer for the man to let go of the monument and walk over to them.

‘So what’s the verdict?’ said Garovel publicly.

“It is a magnificent structure,” said Abbas. “The etchings on the surface are almost invisible to the naked eye, but the flow of ardor through them is still pristine. As if they’d been crafted yesterday. That is how you know they are the work of a master integrator. Eliminating all leakage is a thing that even I still struggle with. Fortunately, my work rarely calls for such precision. Machinery will always be in need of repair or refinement, regardless of how much time is spent perfecting the finished product.”

‘...Alright. I’m not too proud to admit that most of that went over my head,’ said Garovel. ‘Was any of that relevant to the issue of creating a new kag?’

“Yes,” said Abbas. “The flawlessness of the etchings will need to be replicated in the kag itself, which will make the project a bit more time-consuming for me. But that is all. I could still manage it in a day. Perhaps a week if I take breaks to work on other projects. You said this was not an urgent matter to you, yes?”

‘We did. Anything else you can tell us about the Gate?’

Abbas’ brow twitched as he eyed Garovel. “You also said this was a long-held project for you. Have you never had anyone else examine this monument?”

Garovel shook his skull. ‘Not this one specifically, no. But others, sure. Many, many years ago.’

Page 3719

‘Hector, I’m serious,’ said Garovel. ‘Increasingly, I’m beginning to see the danger we pose to each other. We’re even more alike than I first realized. We both have a very high tolerance for risk. More than that, I think we both find enjoyment in it, too. Like it’s slowly becoming our hobby to risk our lives while flirting with the unknown.’

The reaper’s heavier tone dampened Hector’s spirits a bit, but perhaps that was a good thing. Rationally, he still knew that Garovel was right. And he was being reminded of his meditations again. Of his possible encounter with the Void.

This wasn’t the same as that. The danger didn’t feel nearly so immediate or threatening.

But it wasn’t entirely dissimilar, either.

A background thought process took up the question. Where had these urges come from? Was it from a place of confidence? That seemed wrong, since confidence had always felt like such a foreign concept to him, but... maybe...

He did have a sense that he could control the Living Core. Or at least, keep it in check. And he didn’t feel threatened by Rathomre’s Gate, either. They hardly seemed comparable to the danger posed by something like the Void itself.

Perhaps, then... yes. He did have confidence in himself. That he could handle whatever crazy shit they might stumble into here.

Wow. That really was it, wasn’t it?

Because he didn’t feel like he was actually putting Garovel in danger here.

But he was, wasn’t he? He was playing with things beyond his comprehension.

And not just that, either. Abbas and Worwal were here both here, too. Messing with the Gate in their presence could potentially put them at risk also. Strong as they were, they still deserved consideration for their safety, didn’t they?

Not to mention Warrenhold.

He couldn’t afford to let himself get put into another coma. Warrenhold couldn’t afford it. Not until the Rainlords got back, at the very least.

He was supposed to be a lord. He was supposed to have a sense of responsibility. Not just indulge in whatever sounded fun.

Agh. He could already feel various counterarguments rising to his defense. It wasn’t just about fun, surely. These were calculated risks. Necessary ones, even. They needed to obtain more power. To protect Warrenhold. To protect Atreya. From the likes of Abolish. And more, perhaps.

That path forward was not a gentle one. Not a safe or easy one.

But those were just excuses, weren’t they? Even if there might’ve been some truth to them, it didn’t change the fact that he’d been getting carried away with himself.

Page 3718

Smiling to himself, Hector finally did as Garovel initially requested and materialized the dark suit. He stepped a bit closer to Abbas, who had his eyes closed and seemed to be off in his own world.

It wasn’t so long ago that Hector would’ve had no idea what the man was doing, right now. But thanks to the Candle’s memories--and from his own personal experiences, of course--he knew that Abbas was examining the structure of its soul power and/or ardor. And that required intense concentration.

So intense, in fact, that Hector didn’t even want to say anything aloud, in the off chance that it might distract the Lord Saqqaf. It probably wouldn’t, given how well-practiced the man no doubt was at this type of thing, but it still would’ve been impolite.

It was tempting, though. Worwal was floating right there next to the man, observing silently. Hector might’ve liked to ask the reaper for his opinion on the Gate, but he supposed that could be saved for later.

As he kept moving slowly closer, however, a different idea entered into his mind.

He pulled the Living Core out of his armor and eyed it for a moment. Then Rathmore’s Gate. Then the Core again.

Worwal was staring at him now, Hector noticed. The reaper didn’t say anything, though.

Hmm.

‘Hector,’ came Garovel’s private voice again, embedded with a familiarly apprehensive tone. ‘You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?’

‘Depends. What do you think I’m thinking?’

‘I think you’re thinking that using the Living Core to interface with Rathmore’s Gate wouldn’t be an incredibly stupid thing to do.’

‘Hah. Well, you’re wrong, because I definitely know that it would be.’

‘Ah. And you’re thinking about doing it, anyway.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Hector. Haven’t we fulfilled our stupid quota for the day? Trying to interface with the Candle when we had so little information was bad enough, no?’

‘I mean... yeah. You’re right. Obviously.’

A beat passed.

‘But what if we just--?’

‘Hector, stop. Don’t say any more.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’ll say yes! And I don’t want to do that, right now!’

Hector breathed a laugh, trying to keep it quiet.

‘Remember that whole speech that you just gave to Abbas about taking a step back and realizing that you’re actually a big dumbass? I think you should take your own advice. And so should I, frankly.’

‘Aw, c’mon...’

Page 3717

‘Garovel, I just feel like it’s not that important. The armor’s not hard to materialize, so if I don’t think a name fits, then I’ll just go without it.’

‘Yeah, that’s fine for you, but what about me? I wanna call it something cool.’

‘Wow,’ said Hector. ‘Which one of us was three thousand years old again?’

‘I’ll thank you to take your ageism and leave it out of this conversation.’

‘Ageism, huh? You’ve called me young and stupid before. Like a lot.’

‘I said THIS conversation. We can both go back to being ageist in the next one.’

That made Hector chuckle.

A brief silence arrived as they both just continued to watch Abbas from this short distance away.

‘But c’mon. Name. While we’ve got time. Let’s figure this out.’

‘You’re really not gonna let this go, huh?’

‘Maybe if you can distract me with something sufficiently interesting. Can you?’

‘Nothing’s coming to mind.’

‘Name, then. I threw a bunch at you. It’s your turn to suggest one.’

‘Well, uh... hmm. I guess... I kinda feel like a good name would pay homage to the shield that it used to be. So maybe Amir?’

‘Amir, huh? Just Amir?’

‘Yeah, why not? Short and simple.’

‘You know Amir is an actual Valgan name, right? For a person? And a fairly common one, too. It’d be like naming your armor Fred.’

Admittedly, Hector hadn’t thought of it that way. He bobbed his head again and rubbed his chin as he gave it more serious consideration.

‘You are NOT naming your armor Fred, right now.’

‘I mean... I could...’

‘Hector.’

‘What?’

‘That’s dumb.’

‘Why? I can name it what I want, can’t I? No one else will ever even hear it, except us. Probably.’

‘What if you become good friends with a guy named Fred at some point, huh? Or Amir, for that matter? It’ll be needlessly confusing.’

‘Hmm. That’s a good point. So I should just always be rude to any Freds or Amirs, then...’

It was the reaper’s turn to laugh. ‘If you want the name to have some sort of sentimental meaning, then perhaps you should ask Abbas or Haqq about why they named it Amir. Just in case there’s some context we’re missing.’

‘Good idea. Plus, that’ll let me put off making this decision for a little longer, too.’

‘You’re really obnoxious sometimes, you know that?’

‘Whoa. That’s pretty mean, Garovel.’

‘If you don’t decide soon, I’m just gonna start calling it the Darksteel Armor on my own, because fuck you.’

Page 3716

How many times did he have to do something incredibly stupid before he finally started remembering that he should leave his phone behind? He felt especially dumb here, knowing that they were already planning to return to the Forge, where he could have safely left it.

He could already picture the judgmental look on Ms. Rogers’ face when he told her that he needed another replacement.

Ah well. Problems for later.

As Hector moved toward the Gate, Garovel decided to speak up privately from inside Hector’s armor.

‘Hey, make the Darksteel Armor before you get any closer. I find it much cozier to hide in.’

‘...What did you just call it?’

‘The Darksteel Armor. It still needs a name, right? And that one seems pretty much perfect to me.’

Hmm. Well, the reaper did have a point. Hector had been meaning to give it a name for a while now, if only to make it even easier to materialize. Zeff and Asad had both mentioned that naming techniques was good for that purpose, but Hector hadn’t fallen in love with any of the things he’d come up with so far. Plus, it hadn’t exactly been a priority. The dark armor was already pretty easy to materialize, he felt.

‘I don’t know,’ said Hector. ‘Naming it after myself just feels kinda... douchey. Y’know?’

The reaper gave an echoing chortle. ‘But it’s so fitting, though! It’s both dark and steel! Ish!’

‘Ish? Steel-ish? I feel like if you have to add an -ish, then it might not actually be that fitting, Garovel.’

‘Agh, fine. Name it something else, then. Anything. I just want to call it something other than ‘the dark suit.’ That sounds way too generic and vague.’

‘Uh... hmm...’

‘How about the Shadowsteel Armor?’

‘I... actually don’t hate that.’

‘Yeah? It’s settled, then!’

‘Hold on, I didn’t say yes. Just that I kinda liked it.’

‘What do you mean? That’s the same thing, Hector. Those are equivalent statements.’

‘Nuh-uh. Saying that I like it just means that I think you’re... er... heading in the right direction, I guess.’

The reaper sighed. ‘Alright. Not Shadowsteel. Just the Shadow Armor, then?’

Hector bobbed his head a little to both sides, then shook it. ‘Nah, I don’t like that one as much. Sounds kinda... I don’t know...’

‘Then how about the Nightsteel Armor? You like the steel part of the name, right?’

‘I... kinda don’t, actually.’

‘Huh? You don’t? But you just--what? Why not?’

‘I dunno.’

‘Just the Night Armor, then?’

‘...Eh.’

‘Hector. Quit being a picky bitch.’

‘...No.’

‘Oh, my god.’

Page 3715

He wanted to see how his normal iron armor truly compared to the dark suit in this particular scenario. It seemed to him that it wouldn’t make much difference at all, since the aforementioned g-forces that his body was being subjected to would be the same.

But again, he didn’t know much about g-forces to begin with. So maybe it would have made a difference? Or maybe the suit had some other component to its protective capabilities that he did not yet fully understand?

It did give him a strange sort of feeling in that regard. An extra layer of comfort--in his mind, at least. But that very well could have just been his own messed up head playing tricks on him. In fact, that was quite probably the case, Hector thought. Even his iron armor often made him feel more comfortable than normal clothes did.

There was just something so calming about wearing armor. He didn’t know how to explain it. Maybe there simply wasn’t a way to.

Regardless, the iron suit worked about as well he’d expected it to. Which was to say: not very.

It didn’t take them very long to reach the Carthrace Nature Reserve, wherein stood Rathmore’s Gate, but by the end of the trip, Hector felt like his whole body had turned to jelly. It didn’t hurt, thanks to Garovel numbing the pain for him, but he’d experienced this type of wobbly sensation many times before, and it always meant that he had a lot of broken bones. Hell, maybe all of them.

That seemed rather unlikely, though, knowing what he now did about how many bones there were in just the hands and feet.

Eh, he was letting these spare thought processes go off in weird directions. Time to focus, he decided.

After being gently set on the ground by Abbas, Hector immediately did his best impression of an unfolded pile of laundry, crumpling into an iron heap. His foremost thought process was disoriented beyond all recognition, but thanks to the others, he was at least able to observe as Abbas moved toward the Gate on his own.

The man seemed to be taking his time in his approach, walking slowly around it before finally getting close enough to touch it. By the time he actually made physical contact, Hector had regenerated enough to walk again.

He double-checked everything he was carrying. Shard. Scarf. Core. Phone. Oh, that was broken. Of course it was. Dammit.

Page 3714 -- CCCV.

When he was ready, Abbas stomped back outside, grabbed the young Lord Darksteel with one hand, pulled him under his arm, and used his strengthened legs in order to gain distance from the grassy earth before rocketing away at a medium burn. No sense in following Hector’s example and leaving another fire behind for Raheem or someone else to put out.

Once he had sufficient altitude, he cranked up the burn to eighty percent. He was tempted to go for the full hundred, of course, but after the recent tweaks he’d made to the fusion-propulsion system, he expected the jets to be slightly more powerful than before. And as he had yet to actually test them, it would have been rather irresponsible to do so now, when he had a passenger with him.

...But on the other hand, he was quite certain that the new calculations were correct, and even if they weren’t, the built-in fail-safes meant there was zero risk of accidentally instigating antimatter reactions.

Well.

Mathematically zero.

Yeah. He should just go for it. Hector was undead, and time was wasting, after all.


Chapter Three Hundred Five: ‘Thy distant coruscations...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)

Well, this wasn’t how he’d been expecting the day to unfold. Being carried like a sack of potatoes through the sky was one thing. Doing it while also breaking the sound barrier was quite another.

Hector didn’t know much about g-forces, but after feeling like he’d been hit by a truck and passing out--or perhaps dying, actually--and then later waking back up again, he resolved to add that to his list of things that he needed to learn more about.

In fact, he’d been meaning to do that ever since his flight with Dimas Sebolt back during the battle at the Lorent-Callum border, when they’d flown to Hahl Saqqaf’s aid. That had been quite the experience, too--and not entirely dissimilar to this current one. It just hadn’t been nearly as intense, though the fight had that followed it more than made up for that discrepancy.

Admittedly, he could have prepared himself a bit better, but Hector wanted to test something of his own during this trip. He figured that they would have to do this twice--to the Gate and then back again--so for the first one, he made the rather haphazard decision to not materialize his newer, more powerful armor.

Next page at noon

Just want a little more time. Thanks, everybody.

EDIT: Okay, I might need another hour or two, but I will post it soon. Promise. I'M NOT MISSING A DAY. I SWEAR. Well, not today, anyway.

Page 3713

Hector was sighing again. Exasperated, no doubt.

Understandable. A part of Abbas sympathized. Related, even. A shadow of a memory tickled the back of his mind. Time spent with his mentors. They’d often behaved unreasonably in his presence. Been too caught up in their work to pay much attention to anything else. Dolf, in particular.

So perhaps that shadow of memory should have given him pause. Made him reevaluate his current actions. Made him hesitant.

But it didn’t. He gave it almost no consideration at all.

Instead, perhaps there was something ever so slightly invigorating about it. A whisper of nostalgia.

A fondness for those eccentric masters of old.

He could feel, in some small way, a kinship with them. Many times over the course of his life, he had struggled hard in his studies and his work just for the mere opportunity to feel that way. To feel a modicum of worthiness when comparing himself against their incredible legacies.

They’d simply been too great. Too brilliant.

But here and now, despite barely even being able to acknowledge it, he did feel it. Perhaps more strongly than ever, in fact.

The feeling that he was ready. Finally. To match them. To make them proud.

By the time he made it to the tree, he was raring to go. He had a preliminary overview of the suit’s working condition already in his head, in accordance with his last memory of its operation. True, that had been a few days ago, but it was still quite clear to him. As long as nothing had changed with it while he’d been unconscious, everything should have been fine.

Overgrown branches were indeed all over the place, but Abbas just pushed through them without hesitation. Was Worwal enhancing his strength? He wasn’t even sure. Didn’t matter. He reached the armor quickly and set about entering it.

In the past, that had been a point of great difficulty. Laborious and time-consuming. But efficiency had become a priority of late, and in just the past few weeks, he had managed to improve his speed putting it on by over fifty percent.

Hector offered to help him with it, but Abbas refused. It would have been a needless distraction and probably made things go slower.

The donning of the helmet was done last. Allowing it to drill through his skull and into his brain was a sometimes-risky endeavor, rendering him briefly unconscious if he messed it up. Thankfully, that hadn’t happened in a while.

Page 3712

“Uh--h-hold on a second there--” tried Hector.

Abbas was already pushing past the flaps into the cool air of the Imara Forest. It smelled rather nice out here, but he paid it no mind at all, instead focusing on where his armor was in relation to their current position. It would have been in the tree with him when--ah.

A worrisome thought. But it should’ve survived whatever mayhem the Core instigated. He turned to his right. The southern horizon. Where the Imara Forest gave way to the grassy landscape of the great tree. Not too far away. He started walking.

New voices arrived in his ear. Familiar ones. His many children and cousins. His beloved Hahl.

He didn’t stop walking.

“I am fine,” he said in Valgan for them. “I will return shortly. Alert me if an attack arrives.”

More voices. Many more. Some raised. But none angry. Just concerned. And none talking to him of imminent danger.

He needed not pay more attention than that. All was well. Or well enough, at least. For now.

He could concentrate on the work to be done. That was good. There was much to do.

Someone was following him. Several people, actually. Worwal was running interference for him, though. Assuaging their worries, no doubt. Helpful.

His mind was on the suit. On its current specs. He’d been tweaking it little by little. The Core had been intended as a bigger step in that effort, but it seemed to have been a failure in that regard. Disappointing, but not outside expectations. The next attempt would be better. After this trip to the Gate. In fact, depending on what he found, things might speed along even faster.

Shouldn’t get his hopes up, though. Too soon to know.

Ah, one of the followers was being persistent. Hector? Of course it was him. He was saying something, too.

Important?

Expressing reservations.

No, then.

Ah, but Abbas realized that he still needed to ask the boy something.

“What are the coordinates of Rathmore’s Gate?” said Abbas.

“Oh, I--uh--coordinates? Er, I don’t--er--”

“Quickly now, Hector. Time is short.”

The boy exhaled. “Agh, I don’t know coordinates. Do I look like a map? Garovel?”

‘Just bring us with you,’ said the reaper. ‘Hector can’t fly as fast as your suit can, so that’ll be fastest.’

“Garovel, please, for the love of--”

“Very well,” said Abbas.

Next page on the 4th

Thanks for reading, everyone. Hope you had a good Halloween. Or failing that, a good day. Or failing, a good couple hours.

Page 3711

‘Go on, then,’ Worwal told him.

“What exactly do you need this Kag for again?” said Abbas. “I don’t recall what you told us before.”

‘That is because they didn’t tell us anything,’ said Worwal, no longer with the echo of privacy. ‘They just asked if we could make one for some monolith back in Atreya.’

Abbas gave the reaper a look.

‘Alright, fine,’ said Garovel. ‘I’ll admit: we were being a little cagey with the details. It’s a personal project that I’ve been working on for a very long time, so I’m a bit reluctant to go into it too much.’ He spared a glance at Hector. ‘But I suppose if the two of you deem it important, we could reveal a few things. Not that there’s that much to be revealed. I’m not trying to hype it up that much.’

‘A long-term project, you say?’ said Worwal. ‘How long, precisely?’

Garovel bobbed his reptilian head a little. ‘Oh, you know... a couple thousand years or so.’

‘And yet you also say you’ve not made much progress on it?’

‘What can I say? I’m easily distracted.’

Worwal snickered.

Well, that was a good sign, at least, Abbas felt. He decided to jump in again before Worwal’s mood had the opportunity worsen. “Tell us about this project then, if you please.”

‘Okay. Uh. I’m guessing you’re familiar with the name Rathmore, yes?’

Abbas’ head reared back. “Certainly.”

‘Well, one of his Tools is in Atreya. Rathmore’s Gate, to be exact. We were investigating it, and we think a Kag might be able to reveal some of its long-held secrets.’

Holy oasis. “A Kag for one of Rathmore’s Tools... If you’d told me that before, I would’ve made it more of a priority.”

‘Well, you had a lot going on. Still do, in fact. As do we. And I consider this more of a side project, at the moment. While I do want your help, I also don’t want to take up too much of your time. I imagine you’ll at least need to make a trip to the Gate itself for this, yes?’

“Atreya is quite close,” said Abbas, already thinking of putting his armor on right away. “I could knock that out in an hour. Or less, perhaps. And the examination wouldn’t take--” Abruptly, Abbas decided to cut himself off and stop wasting time altogether. He started for the exit of the tent. “In fact, I’ll go right now.”

Page 3710

‘You make a fair point,’ said Garovel. ‘Perhaps we should emphasize that Hector and I would much prefer to keep the Core around, as well. No matter how much of a jerk it is, we would take no pleasure in the destruction of such an incredible object. In fact, one of our primary goals for Warrenhold is to use it as a place to preserve knowledge far into the future, and I would say this little guy qualifies.’

Abbas recalled them mentioning the like before. “That is some comfort, then. But generally speaking, I do hope that you and Hector will never grow too eager to deliver death and punishment. It is a timeless problem that those in power must struggle with: that we do not become callous or cruel with the passage of time.”

And Abbas half-expected Hector to return a dismissive look or some word of protest--as youth was often wont to do--but the boy surprised him yet again with his silence, with the seriousness in his expression, and with the slight nod he gave.

A lull in the conversation arrived, but it didn’t take long for Garovel to fill it.

‘Well, I suppose we should let your family in here before they worry themselves into a frenzy,’ said the reaper. ‘But one last thing: have you made any progress on that Kag we asked you about?’

“Ah... um. No.”

‘Oh. Been too busy, huh? That’s a shame. Or is it that you just don’t think you can do it?’

‘What?’ said Worwal.

Uh-oh.

‘It’s okay if you can’t,’ said Garovel. ‘I mean, Kags are pretty rare to begin with, and recreating a specific one doesn’t exactly seem like it would be a cakewalk. I understand if it’s too much for you.’

‘Too much?’ said Worwal, hardly able to conceal the irritation in his tone.

Abbas felt compelled to intervene privately before things got out of hand. ‘Worwal, relax. It is an innocent question.’

The reaper’s next words were also private. ‘A mere Kag? Too much for you? Laughable. Is Garovel stupid? Or just trying to annoy me? Agh, this must be some ploy.’

‘I don’t think he knows you that well yet,’ said Abbas. ‘Calm down before you say something we both regret.’

‘Mrgh.’

Garovel picked up on the abrupt silence. ‘Fellas? Something wrong?’

‘Listen to his smug tone,’ said Worwal, still privately. ‘I hate him.’

Abbas had to consciously avoid rolling his eyes. ‘No, you don’t. Just let me do the talking.’

Page 3709

Hmm. Abbas couldn’t help being a bit surprised at how certain Hector sounded of his convictions here. Young people did not often have such feelings toward such matters, he’d found. It usually took them quite some time to determine their beliefs in one direction or the other.

But for the few young people who did have such feelings, it was usually a red flag. A warning sign. That they were either thoughtless toward the real consequences of their actions, or that they simply had a callous--or even cruel--nature to them, deep down.

Neither of those descriptions seemed to fit Hector here, but it was also still too soon to be sure. They hadn’t actually known this fellow for very long, had they?

There was a third explanation, though. For an attitude like this in a young person. Abbas had seen it a few times.

It could manifest when a young person had been forced to confront the matter by a particularly horrific event. When they’d been given no choice but to reach a strong decision about it.

And right now, observing this young man’s gaze, Abbas was leaning toward that explanation. What exactly had this child been through? Even among Sandlord and Rainlord children--children who tended to mature quite quickly--this was rare to see.

It was one thing to bear witness to some terrible trauma. That was more than bad enough. But it was another thing to be forced into a terrible decision regarding that trauma, too.

If it hadn’t felt wildly inappropriate to do so, Abbas might have inquired further.

Instead, he decided to stay on topic. Hector and Garovel were already being quite generous with how much time they were giving him to think.

“...To be quite blunt,” said Abbas, “I would be upset if you destroyed the Living Core. Even disregarding how much effort I put into its creation, I simply do not see how there would be any need to destroy it. In the worst case, putting it in storage would be the more desirable outcome.”

Hector made no response, but his eyes went to the floor, and he rubbed his chin.

Abbas kept going. “Especially considering the fact that you do not know how the Candle might react to its destruction. If it feels any sort of attachment to the Core, then you would be jeopardizing our relationship with it, too.”

Page 3708

Perhaps the reaper had a point.

But oh well. In this moment, Abbas Saqqaf could not bring himself to care about appearances. It seemed quite clear to him now that the young Hector Goffe of Atreya was going to be an important ally for the foreseeable future. Trying to present a false image to him, therefore, would not be good in the long run, even if it made things less bumpy in the here and now.

The glowing orb in Hector’s grasp drew the young man’s glance, along with a raised eyebrow.

Abbas wondered what that might be about, but when Hector elected not to say anything, the Lord Saqqaf decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “In any case, I will take what you have told me into serious consideration. Worwal may pretend to know everything, but I will not.”

‘Hey.’

“It may well be true that we should reevaluate our approach to using the Forge,” said Abbas. “And your perspective on the Void is... intriguing to me. I shall have to give that more thought. But in the meantime, I must get back to work. The Core is but the first step in a larger project. More of a proof of concept than a finished product.”

“Ooh, yikes,” said Hector. “It doesn’t like hearing that.”

Abbas returned a flat smile. “Heh. Perhaps I shouldn’t even bother examining that one and instead merely leave it in your care. How would you feel about keeping it?”

“Uh. I’m not sure, but I kinda feel like I have no choice. How would you feel if I decided to destroy it?”

Abbas blinked. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s insanely dangerous.”

Abbas kept blinking. “And you just told me that it doesn’t like what I was saying. I can’t imagine it was too pleased to hear those words from you.”

“Oh, it already knows how I feel about it. We had a long chat before you woke back up. If it can’t learn right from wrong, at least in the most basic sense, then I don’t really care how much power it has to offer us. It’s too dangerous to keep around.”

“...You are treading into the territory of complex ethical questions, Hector. That may not be a human being in your hand there, but it is still a sentient, thinking entity that you are talking about killing.”

Hector’s gaze was steady. “I know. But it tried to murder you and Worwal. And possibly also Garovel.”

‘Yup,’ said Garovel. ‘Hates my guts, too, apparently.’

Page 3707

‘Only when he gets particularly excited about his work,’ said Worwal. ‘So yes, all the time.’

‘Sounds like a real hassle,’ said Garovel. ‘You have my sympathies.’

‘Heh, thank you. And knowing what I do of your servant, you also have mine, a’hkin.’

‘Oh, wow. I haven’t been called that in millennia. I’m not sure it suits me, but I appreciate the gesture, at least.’

“Which questions did I miss?” asked Abbas.

“Uh... well, to put ‘em all together, I guess I was just wondering how the personality for the Living Core could have come from the Candle when... I mean, the Core literally told me that it put you into that coma. So the personality must’ve been there before we connected it to the Candle, because that happened after you and Worwal were already passed out.”

“Ah, yes. An understandable point of confusion. There are two possible explanations for that. Both of which harbor some rather unfortunate implications, I’m afraid. The first is, in my estimation, far more likely. And that would be that the Core’s personality did indeed already exist within the Candle. So it would also remember doing that to us.”

“Huh. Wouldn’t that mean that the Candle itself hates you, too?”

“Not necessarily.” Abbas allowed a beat to pass. “But yes, probably.”

“Aw, shit. And the second explanation?”

“Temporal interference,” said Abbas.

“Say what?”

“When dealing with Fusion Forges--or dense pockets of ardor in general--time itself can become something of a blurry concept. For example, the precise moment that something is created can turn into more of a... ‘range’ of creation, rather than a singular instant.”

“What the heck? Why would that happen?”

“Oh, any number of reasons, depending on the exact nature of the object in question. But from what I have read, it can be especially likely to occur when the object being created is something particularly influential over ardor itself. It is an interesting phenomenon. I remember reading one theory that said it was a consequence of an ardor feedback loop.” Abbas tilted his head as he recalled the essay more fully. “In fact, it said that such a feedback loop, if unable to rectify itself, could result in a spatial distortion akin to a... black hole. Hmm...”

Hector just stared at him.

Worwal’s next words were wrapped in the echo of privacy. ‘You do realize that we’re trying NOT to come off as unhinged madmen in front of our gracious host, right?’

Page 3706

“H-hold on a second here,” said Hector. “You’re saying that its problematic personality came from the Candle?”

Abbas was hardly listening, however, as he rubbed his brow. “Ugh, I’m already dreading what I’m going to see when I look at it again. If an entire personality has taken root in it, then I can only imagine what a mess the memory structure has become. I probably won’t even be able to make heads or tails of it for weeks...” Agh, or even longer, potentially. He hadn’t examined very many sentient objects before, but they were always absurdly complex. In the past, he’d tried referencing neurological maps as a point of comparison, but they never seemed to help much. The difference between a fully ardor-based mind and a human brain was simply too great, apparently.

But perhaps he should treat this as yet another opportunity to learn. With the Core being so portable, it could possibly serve him well as a point of comparison with similar objects. The Candle itself would obviously be the most convenient for that purpose, but given its intimate role in the Core’s creation, it would almost certainly be of limited use here. Their structures would probably be practically identical. In which case, it might be best to compare them for their differences rather than their similarities.

No, what he needed was a sentient object--preferably more than one--that had no ties to the Candle whatsoever. That would likely prove the most illuminating. But he couldn’t do that here, now could he? Such an endeavor would no doubt require--

“Lord Abbas,” came Hector’s voice, along with a forceful hand on his shoulder. “Can you hear me?” He sounded concerned.

Abbas saw the young man there, looking up at him. Apparently, he and Hector had both moved closer to the entrance of the tent. Ah. Abbas had always had a mildly troublesome habit of unconsciously pacing back and forth when brainstorming. “Apologies,” he said. “I was merely lost in thought. Nothing to worry about.”

‘I told you,’ said Worwal. ‘He is fine. He does that all the time. It’s not a side effect of anything.’

Hector pulled his hand back. “Okay, well... good. You just woke up, you know. You had me worried for a second.”

“Did I ignore an important question?” said Abbas, far from the first time in his life.

‘Yes,’ said Garovel. ‘Several, actually. He really does that all the time?’

Page 3705

Hector looked confused. “Unexpected? What’s unexpected, exactly? The fact that I can talk to it? Or the fact that it even has as personality in the first place?”

“The latter, I’m afraid,” said Abbas. “My intent for the Living Core was to have to have it become the foundation of a larger interfacing mechanism for non-servants in the use of ardor. I felt that a complex pseudo-consciousness would be well-suited to that purpose. But from the way you are describing your interactions with it, perhaps I... erred in some way. Hmm.”

‘So you accidentally created a sentient being,’ said Garovel. ‘Wonderful.’

Abbas paused on that thought. Had he truly done so?

No, no, that couldn’t be right. Sure, his plans for the Living Core had been quite advanced--perhaps the most advanced individual item he’d ever developed, even--but it just didn’t make sense to him that it could have manifested an entire personality without him realizing. Its ability to “think” shouldn’t have even been that sophisticated. It was only meant to simplify complex process and bridge the sensory gap for individuals who could not innately detect ardor.

This didn’t make sense. How could it have--?

Abbas’ expression slackened as a thought struck him, and he felt compelled to ask a new question. “Wait a moment. You said that you... ‘connected’ the Core to the Candle and then ‘dove right in,’ didn’t you?”

“Er. Yeah?”

“And that is when you began to communicate with it?”

“Yeah...”

Oh. Gods. “And are you still able to communicate with it even now? At this very moment?”

Hector’s eyes went from him to the Core and back again. “Y-yeah...”

Abbas rubbed his temples with one hand as he processed that. “Then in that case... I believe that this ‘accident’ as you put it, is not my doing. Or at least, not entirely. It is also yours.”

“W-what do you...? Uh... Oh.” Hector smacked his lips. “We shouldn’t have done that, huh?”

Abbas sighed. “Probably not, no.”

‘Sorry, I’m a little lost here,’ said Garovel. ‘What shouldn’t we have done?’

“When you connected the Core to the Candle--especially so soon after its creation--you essentially poured... an unknowable quantity of ardor and... gods know what else... directly into the Core. So it is not unreasonable to think that the Core may have... shall we say, imprinted some of that metaphysical data onto itself?” Abbas tapped his head and groaned. “Agh, the memory structure! I spent so long weaving it together! I’d just put the finishing touches on it when I passed out, which means... it would have been empty and pristine at the time you connected it to the Candle... ah...”

Page 3704

‘Oh, right,’ said Garovel. ‘The Candle went completely out of control, and there were branches everywhere. Hector had to cut a path to you. He set the tree on fire, actually.’

“What?!”

“Agh, you didn’t have to tell--”

‘Eh, it’s fine. Don’t worry. Raheem put it out. That’s just how worried Hector was about you. Almost accidentally destroyed one of the most valuable objects on the planet. What a great friend he is, right?’

“Garovel, please stop...”

‘Interesting,’ said Worwal. ‘But I doubt a bit of fire would have destroyed the Candle.’

‘You’re probably right,’ said Garovel. ‘Would’ve been funny, though. In a tragic sort of way.’

‘I think you and I may have very different senses of humor.’

‘Maybe. But anyway, to finish answering your question, you were probably out for a few hours, at least. Raheem could give you a better estimate, I suspect.’

Abbas’ eyes returned to the Living Core in Hector’s hand. The metal band was already wrapped around the boy’s wrist, Abbas noticed. “You said... you used the Core to retrieve Worwal and I?”

‘That’s right,’ said Garovel. ‘And apparently, it wasn’t too keen on cooperating, either. Hector practically had to force it.’

Hector asked the next question. “Did you give it such a bad personality on purpose? That had to have been an accident, right?”

Well, now they were coming up on a portion of the conversation that he didn’t necessarily wish to discuss. Out of embarrassment, primarily. But he supposed there wasn’t much point in trying to save face now, especially when keeping information from these two could just end up causing more problems later.

“...Truthfully,” said Abbas slowly, “the development of the Core required me to tread into... unfamiliar territory. Do you know what a pseudo-consciousness is?”

‘Is it what it sounds like?’ said Garovel. ‘A fake personality?’

“Somewhat,” said Abbas. “More specifically, the term pseudo-consciousness refers to an advanced technique in integration. It is what you might call a ‘soul construct.’ That is, a pocket of soul power that is able to react to some form of stimuli. Typically, that stimulus is a person pressing their own soul power into the associated object. That is the most primitive form of pseudo-consciousness, though it is still quite advanced by conventional integration standards.”

“Hmm,” hummed Hector. “This thing seems way more advanced than just that. It can react to a lot more than just my soul power. I mean, I can talk to it.”

“Y-yes...” Abbas rubbed his chin as his eyes slowly widened. “I must admit, that is... unexpected.”

Next page on the 24th

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Page 3703

The reaper wasn’t done, though. ‘He might be too nice to say it, but I’m not. It seems to me that you could both do with a dose of humility here. You should take Hector’s advice seriously before you get yourselves killed for some completely avoidable reason. And make me sad. You don’t want to make me sad, do you? I hate being sad.’

At this point, Abbas knew that many reapers would take Garovel’s words as a challenge, of sorts, and begin arguing relentlessly with him.

But Worwal was not one such reaper. A fact for which Abbas was eternally grateful.

Instead, Worwal merely looked over at Abbas and returned a nod of his reptilian head, informing him that it was his turn to say what they were both thinking.

“Amusing,” said Abbas, “but I am still a bit confused about what ‘advice’ we are meant to be taking here. I am unsure how I am supposed to ‘be stupider,’ precisely. If I am to take that more seriously, then perhaps you should propose it more seriously, hmm?”

Hector and Garovel exchanged looks of their own, probably consulting each other privately.

Then Hector spoke up again. “Okay. So. I might not be the best at explaining things... but, uh... it’s like this: when you come up against the Void again, your mental state is key. You need to be rock solid. Unmovable. You said it yourself: you experienced a ‘euphoric epiphany,’ right? That’s what’s dangerous. When your emotions try to take over, when they fill you with a sense of power and... ambition, I guess... that’s when things are most likely to go horribly wrong. That’s when the Void will lure you into infinity and make it so you never wake up again. Both of you.”

‘Which is what almost happened, by the way,’ added Garovel. ‘Thankfully, you weren’t yet so far gone that Hector couldn’t dive in and retrieve you. With the aid of your Living Core, it must be said. I’m not trying to argue that you didn’t create something incredible, because you most certainly did.’

Hmm. Interesting.

Rather than responding right away, Abbas took his time mulling that information over.

Worwal had a question for them, though. ‘How long were we unconscious?’

‘Tough to say for sure,’ said Garovel. ‘We didn’t know you were in trouble for a while, because your family thought you were merely being... shall we say, ‘eccentric’ by barricading yourselves inside the tree.’

“Barricading?” said Abbas.

Page 3702

“I know how it sounds,” said Hector, still chuckling a bit. “But I’m serious. I’ve seen this problem many times, thanks to the Candle’s memories. It knows the history of other Forges, too. Forges have always attracted brilliant inventors. And they’ve always come up against this same problem. You understand? I need you to listen to me on this. If you don’t adjust your approach, then the Void--or whatever you wanna call it--it’ll lure you in and eat you alive.”

Worwal glanced at Abbas, and they didn’t even need to exchange words privately in order to know what each other was thinking. Abbas returned a nod, knowing that the reaper would be able to sum up both of their thoughts just fine.

‘We appreciate your concern,’ said Worwal, ‘but let us not forget that, Candle or not, you are still quite inexperienced in these matters, Lord Goffe. Nor are you an inventor. Abbas and I have our own process. We have been doing this for a very long time. And yes, we do understand the risks. But trying to “adjust our approach,” as you put it, would not be as simple a matter as you seem to be implying. Moreover, it might just ruin everything and set our progress back by years, potentially. Which is time that our kin may not have. Particularly, our subjects back in Sair.’

Hector’s brow lowered now. “You know what would really set you back? Getting yourselves killed.”

‘That seems a bit rich, coming from you,’ countered Worwal. ‘You think we aren’t aware of your recent exploits? Knowing that you are not nearly as old as you pretend to be, the risks that you have taken are truly absurd. I would’ve thought that you and Garovel would understand our position a bit better than this.’

“Oh, I understand it perfectly well,” said Hector. “And you make a fair point. Maybe it is a bit rich coming from us. But that’s just another reason why I know what I’m talking about here.”

‘Heh. The confidence of youth. And the naivete, too.’

At that, Garovel, who’d thus far remained silent behind Hector, decided to chime in. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said the reaper, sounding not sorry at all. ‘Who was it again that pulled your sorry asses out of a coma just now? Ah, that’s right. It was my boy Hector here. So how about you show a little more respect and do as he asks, hmm?’

“Garovel--” tried Hector.

Page 3701

“Help me in what capacity?” said Abbas. “You’ve already done more than I could have imagined.”

“The Void,” said Hector. “Talk to me about it. When have you encountered it before?”

Abbas had no idea where this was going, but he supposed there was no reason not to answer. “That is a difficult matter. It’s something that inventors have contended with throughout history. Even before I ever faced it myself, I had heard the tales. About how the greatest minds to ever live could reach out and touch this... realm of brilliance. Some called it the Void, yes. Others called it Enlightenment. Or the Heavens. But all agreed that it was something beyond the self. A rarely reachable place where new ideas could be discovered, where old ideas could be found again, and where struggling ideas could come together and find beautiful harmony.”

Hector remained quiet, merely listening.

At the boy’s apparent attentiveness, Abbas decided to continue. “As for myself, I have been fortunate enough to encounter this feeling on... six occasions that I can remember. Now, whether or not I truly came face-to-face with the so-called Void in these moments... well, that may be unknowable. I can only report how I felt. And the results that followed. Each time, I was met with a great euphoric epiphany. A breakthrough in the work that I had been toiling away at for... years, in most cases. And there is no doubt in my mind that I would have been incapable of building my armor if I had never experienced those moments.”

Hector nodded. “Okay. I understand the problem.”

“Problem?”

“Yes,” the young lord went on. “The problem, Lord Abbas, is that you’re too smart.”

Abbas returned a dull blink. “Excuse me?”

“First, you need to adjust your mindset. Because you’re too smart, you need to slow down and come to the realization--the epiphany, to use your word--that you’re actually not smart. That you’re a big dumbass.”

“Hector, I am receiving some rather mixed messaging here...”

“Look. The Void will turn your own intellect against you. Your mind will become lost to infinity. So... yeah, in a weird way, you need to become stupider.”

‘In that regard, this conversation will surely help,’ said Worwal.

At that scathing remark, Abbas might’ve expected the Lord of Warrenhold to take offense.

But Hector just paused for a laugh, instead.

Which ended up pulling one out of Worwal, too.

Quite the uncommon sight from his reaper, Abbas noted with mild shock.

Page 3700

Abbas chewed on that question for a bit as he met Hector’s gaze. He decided against answering it straight away. “The Void... that is what Abolish calls it. Their god.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” said Hector. He squinted. “And something tells me that you don’t think so, either.”

Hmm. “What do you know of the Void?” said Abbas.

“...I asked you first,” said Hector. “You’re not trying to avoid my question, are you?”

Hmph. He supposed there was no point in trying to hide anything, considering how invested he and his kin already were with this young man. “...No, that was not my first time encountering it. I’ve glimpsed it before. A few different times, in truth.”

Hector’s head reared back a little, but the stern expression on his face didn’t change into one of surprise. “So you knew the danger. And did it, anyway.”

Abbas pulled his legs over to the side of the bed and sat on the edge, putting his back to Hector but not standing to his feet just yet. “Of course I did.”

“Then why did you--? Agh. That was so reckless!”

“Hah! Hector. This is the risk we take. This is the nature of working with a Fusion Forge. I told you before, did I not? The Candle may be “gentle,” but that does not make it harmless. In some ways, that may even make it more dangerous. It can lure one into a false sense of security.”

“I understand that,” said Hector. “But you still could have at least told me you were planning to do something risky. That way, I would’ve been more prepared to help you, if something went wrong. Like it did.”

“Hector. Every time I use the Forge, this can happen. There is no safe handling of it. I knew the danger, yes, but I had no reason to think that this instance would be any different from the others. Because, frankly, it wasn’t. This was just the first time things went wrong.” He stood up and straightened his robe. “There will probably be more.”

The young Lord of Warrenhold stood up, too. “Respectfully, Lord Abbas, that’s a stupid approach to take. And unlike you.”

Abbas chortled. “I don’t disagree. But I’m not going to stop using the Forge.”

“I’m not saying you should,” said Hector. “I’m saying you should be smarter about it. We should be smarter about it. Let me help you.”

Page 3699

Abbas sat up more fully in his bed. “...Personality-wise, you say? So you have already managed to communicate with it?”

“Yeah,” said Hector.

“How in the world did you accomplish that? I have not yet created instructions for its use.”

“Oh, uh. I just kinda... connected it to the Big Candle and dove right in.”

“The Big Candle?”

“Right, uh. Since we’ve got this Mini-Candle now. Big Candle and Mini-Candle.”

Wow. Abbas needed a moment. “Alright, well, before you go renaming my creations permanently, that object is called the Living Core.”

“Oh. Huh. Okay. I guess that sounds better than Mini-Candle, anyway.”

“If you were able to communicate with it, then I am surprised you were not able to learn its name without my help.”

Hector paused for an odd look, then clicked his tongue. “Uh... well, there might be a reason for that...”

“What do you mean?” said Abbas.

“Ah... I’m not sure how to tell you this, but, er... this thing, the Living Core... it doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

Abbas blinked again and furrowed his brow. “Excuse me?”

“Like I mentioned, it’s kind of a dick. It doesn’t appreciate you. In fact, that’s why you and Worwal both nearly died.”

Died? Hmm. Yes, this was the second time Hector was mentioning that, but only now was it beginning to sink in. “How... how did it nearly kill us?”

Hector took a long breath. “Well, from what I’ve been able to piece together, this Living Core here... ah... it led you astray. Technically, I guess it didn’t try to kill you directly, meaning with its own power, but... it was the equivalent of leading you into a minefield. With a blindfold on.”

“...How do you know this?”

Hector scratched his brow. “It’s hard to explain. The power that this thing can tap into is the same as the Candle. Or maybe that’s only when it’s connected to the Candle. I’m not sure yet. But the point is, it leads to a deep, dark place. Full of... incredible power. Infinite, maybe. It might be what they call the Void.”

Abbas remained quiet, though he exchanged looks with Worwal.

“I’ve felt it once before,” Hector went on. “Recently, actually. In my meditations. So I knew a little of how to deal with it. But you...” Hector leveled a stare at Abbas. “Was that the first time you’ve ever encountered it?”

Next page at noon

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Page 3698 -- CCCIV.

Chapter Three Hundred Four: ‘Awakening of the Sun...’
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Abbas Saqqaf groaned as his eyes eased open. They resisted. They wanted to stay closed. And he wanted to let them, too. But in his gut, he knew he couldn’t. He knew something was amiss.

He tried to sit up and encountered more resistance there. He pushed through that, too.

He found a dimly lit room around him. A bed beneath him. The smell of morning dew in the air.

“There you are,” came a voice on his left. “Welcome back.”

It was the Lord of Warrenhold sitting there, he realized between blinks. The young black man had a grip on Abbas’ forearm. Instinctually, he wanted to ask why, but when he laid eyes on the glowing object in Hector’s other hand, he became much more interested in that.

The Living Core. Hector was holding it. Hector was using it.

Abbas stared.

“Your family has been worried about you,” said Hector, letting go of him, “but not as much as they would have been, if they knew just how close you and Worwal came to killing yourselves. Before I let anyone else in here, you and I need to have a talk.”

Worwal? Ah, there he was on the right. To his eyes, reapers were regal horned lizards with ethereal black-and-white flames tracing the outlines of their bodies.

‘It seems we’ve upset our host,’ said Worwal.

“I’m not mad,” said Hector, sounding quite mad. “But this thing you’ve created is incredibly dangerous. I wish you would’ve at least told me more about it before actually trying to forge it.”

Ah...

Abbas had to clear his throat before speaking. “Yes, well... with the benefit of hindsight, I would have to agree. It did not seem such a dangerous idea at the time...”

“Creating a living, thinking interface didn’t seem that dangerous?” said Hector.

The doubt in the young man’s voice made Abbas feel suddenly defensive, but he had to ask something else first. “What have you learned of it so far?”

“Oh, quite a bit,” said Hector. “I’ve learned that it’s capable of making moral judgments. I’ve learned that it can influence you emotionally. I’ve learned that it can manipulate soul power and ardor. But most importantly, I’ve learned that, personality-wise, it’s kind of a dick.”

Abbas almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Almost.

When dealing with this particular person, Abbas was somehow beginning to feel as though incredulity was to be expected.

Page 3697

He climbed to his knees and finally regained a proper sense of environmental awareness as his vision cleared. And yet he felt more confused than ever, because he could hardly understand what he was looking at.

The entire world was on fire. Everything around him. Ablaze.

Even himself. All up his arms and legs and chest. But these weren’t the reddish flames of his lutetium.

And strangest of all, they didn’t hurt, either. Because of numbness? No. The flames weren’t burning him. Not cooking his flesh.

If anything, he was feeling somewhat better, actually. Invigorated. This was the intense heat that he felt before. It wasn’t painful. It was like a deeply warm embrace, covering his entire body.

But he could see other things burning around him, too. Smoke and damage. Craters in the ground. Burning men running across his vision. Screaming.

What the hell was happening here?

Kerikos stirred within his grasp. ‘Ogh...’

‘Kerikos!’ thought Vito. ‘You’re conscious?!’

‘Mgh... I don’t... what...?’

Before he could question the reaper any further, however, a blinding light in the sky stole his attention, and he had to shield his eyes. When it abated, he saw a great fireball suspended there, looking not unlike a meteor, but it was just hung there in midair, seemingly not moving.

And then it clicked for him. Could that be Jackson up there?

Vito had heard that the Radiant Sentinel, the Star of the West, had gone mysteriously missing after a terrible battle with the Mad Demon in the Uego Desert. Theories abounded about what might have become of him, but one of the more popular ones had been that he was recovering here in Intar.

If that was really him, then perhaps the situation wasn’t so--

Agh, he was getting distracted, Vito realized. He needed to find Prince David again. In all this chaos, that was going to be difficult. He needed a reaper’s senses.

‘Kerikos, can you hear me?’

‘Rgh...’

‘Kerikos!’

No response, this time.

Shit.

He tucked the reaper under his arm as he looked around. The flames all over his body had diminished, but they weren’t entirely vanishing, and the same could be said for those covering the courtyard. It was a bit easier to see, at least. And he recalled the general direction in which the Prince had been fleeing.

So he started running.

Whatever else was going on around him, whatever this mad battle was and whatever big names might be involved in it, Vito Sebolt knew his task. And he was going to see it done.

Next page at noon

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Page 3696

Something was pushing down on him now. As if gravity had suddenly quadrupled. He could feel it there on his back. The added pressure. Almost like the foot of a giant. Was it real? An actual giant pinning him down?

He discarded the questions as soon as they entered his mind. Distractions. Unimportant. Didn’t matter if it was real or not. Didn’t matter if the Mad Demon himself was sitting on his back, right now.

The only thing that mattered was reaching Kerikos.

His muscles ached. Fatigue struck.

But so what?

His body didn’t want to listen to him?

So what? He was in charge, not his body.

He could hardly think straight?

So what? There was only one thing to think about, anyway.

Time stretching away from him?

So what? Time could stretch for a thousand years. Vito would crawl for a thousand and one.

The entire world was unraveling around him? Peeling away from his vision like a torn painting?

So. What.

He crawled. And kept crawling. Ignoring all the rest. Everything else.

And finally, he reached his reaper. With his lone hand, he grabbed the lump of soul power that was Kerikos and pulled him close.

And he breathed. He didn’t know what to do now, but that was fine. For the moment, that was fine. He could figure that out later.

Ground shaking.

Whatever.

Kerikos was alive. But just barely. Completely unconscious. Unable to reinitiate the hyperstate. Problem? Mm. Maybe for the best. Might not have been able to maintain it for much longer, anyway.

Tired.

Absurdly so.

Not sure he’d ever felt so tired before. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t recall. Wanted to slip off. To sleep. To rest. Deserved it, didn’t he? Such a long day. Time to let go.

...Except.

Bother. There was a bother. Still. Somehow. Somewhere.

Back of his mind. Couldn’t grasp it. But it was there. Scratching at him. Yelling at him. Familiar faces with familiar voices. So familiar. And yet, he felt certain that he’d never seen them before. How could that be?

They were reaching out to him. And he heard what they were saying. Just a bit. Just enough.

“Not yet.”

His palm found the hard earth. And after a moment, his other palm found it, too. Regrown. Still regenerating. Slow but steady.

His bare skin felt the grass again. And the cool air.

No. Not cool, actually. Extremely warm. An intense heat. Had he set himself on fire again? That didn’t seem right.

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Page 3695

Vito was floundering. His mind felt scattered. His senses. His limbs. Why weren’t they reappearing? The regeneration. It was still happening. He could feel it. But it was slow. Not like pan-forma. What happened to the hyperstate?

His senses. Yes. No. Foggy. Too greatly diminished. Something was very wrong, and he quickly realized what it was.

‘Kerikos?’ he thought. ‘Where are you?’

There. Vito saw the reaper in the grass, not far away. Smoldering with ethereal, black-and-white smoke. Wounded. Badly.

To Vito’s eyes, the reaper was supposed to look like a honey badger, but right now, Kerikos was virtually without form. Little more than a blob.

Vito crawled with his one arm, trying to will the other to grow back faster.

So much blood. Still gushing out of his wounds even as they healed.

He didn’t understand. How had they been separated? Where had the attack even come from?

Might this be how he was going to die? Without even a clue as to what happened? Just caught up in some mayhem beyond his comprehension? Wrong place, wrong time? In some foreign land? Never to see his family again? His dorky little sister? His stubborn father? His brave cousins? Lord Dimas?

This wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair, either. He couldn’t explain why. Couldn’t think it through. Couldn’t process any of it.

But he could feel it. In his gut, he could feel it. How wrong this was. How cruel.

He kept pushing. Kept crawling. Somehow, with each passing moment, it seemed to be getting harder, not easier. That also made no sense. He was still regenerating. He should’ve felt the improvement. And yet.

It was like the world itself was pushing down on him. Telling him to stop crawling. Telling him to give up.

It kept growing more difficult. His vision stretched before him. It felt like Kerikos was getting farther away, too. Not closer. That couldn’t be right. Even time itself was all wrong. This felt like an eternity going by. How could Kerikos be so far away? He’d been right there a moment ago.

Agh. He knew the problem. Rationally, he knew it. He was delirious. His senses were lying to him. Aftermath of the hyperstate. That had to be it. Only explanation.

Or he was dying. Truly dying. Turning slowly feral after his link to his reaper had been severed.

No. No, no. He refused to believe it. That was just the fear talking. Trying to take over. Make him panic.

Kerikos was right there. Wounded, sure, but still alive. He could almost touch him.

Page 3694

After another moment, he noticed people in the crater. They were gathered together at the bottom, looking around with apparent confusion.

Kerikos recognized their soul signatures as that of the Abolishers who’d just been in the area. They’d been spared from the blast--or whatever it was that had made the crater.

More disturbingly, Kerikos could not sense any of the castle guards who those Abolishers had just been fighting. Which could only mean one thing.

This crater was undoubtedly the work of Abolish. Perhaps their leader, even. So there was nothing to prevent another crater from appearing on top of Vito and Kerikos, right now.

They had to move. Barnabas and the other Abolishers were looking similarly befuddled, so Vito decided to take the opening to flee before they came back to their senses. This fight wasn’t important. Only the Prince’s safety was.

Kerikos had a bead on Prince David’s position. Vito bolted through the corridor, bounding over rubble and weaving between more fights going on along the way. He spared a blanket of flaming lutetium for another group of attackers as he passed, but that was it. The remaining castle guards would have to fend for themselves.

Another problem arose when he sensed some of the previous Abolishers in pursuit. The last thing he wanted to do was bring hostiles closer to the Prince, but another brief quake cut that concern short, and Vito saw another gaping hole in the castle on his left. Where entire rooms had been, now only open air remained.

The pursuers were the lesser worry now, he felt. He had to get Prince David away from these vaporizing blasts first. The pursuers could be dealt with later.

More running. Dodging. Weaving through mayhem. A tall window offered a shortcut, and he took it, crashing through to reach the outer edge of the castle grounds. He had eyes on Prince David now, scrambling through an enormous garden among a crowd of other non-combatants. They’d nearly reached the castle’s eastern exit. Would that be far enough away from the danger? Probably not, Vito felt.

Then his vision went white, and his mind blanked out. When he regained awareness, he was flat on his back in the grass.

What in the world was that? Had he gotten hit? Was he hit? Where was he hit? Where? He couldn’t feel--

The left half of his body was missing. No arm. No leg. He still had both eyes, though.

Page 3693

“All that talk about honor,” said Barnabas, “and yet what are you doing now? Trying to bring others into our fight. I told my men to hang back so that you and I could have a proper go of it. You disappoint me, stranger.”

“That’s not honor,” countered Vito. “What you’re talking about is merely pride. Honor is something done in service of others, not to satisfy one’s own ego.”

“Rationalizations of the cowardly.”

“That is incorrect. Would I like for us to have a proper duel? Sure. But when you have responsibilities beyond indulging in your own personal desires, honor becomes something much greater than a simple feeling in your gut.”

Barnabas squinted at him but made no further retort.

“I respect your desire for an honest fight,” said Vito. “If I can spare your life, I will. But it seems to me that the company you keep has given you a false concept of what true honor is.” Not that Vito was terribly surprised by that. Anyone who participated in the wanton slaughter of civilians couldn’t have understood much about honor, no matter what they said.

Vito decided to hold his tongue on those last thoughts, though. He had a feeling that they would fall on deaf ears to any Abolisher, since they’d probably heard something similar countless times before. Kerikos had often found that people had an odd compulsion to disagree with arguments they’d heard too many times, regardless of how much merit said arguments actually had.

For his part, Barnabas remained quiet, merely standing there instead of continuing the attack.

Which Vito found surprising. Perhaps he should have used this opportunity to press his own advantage, but something was stopping him. Something in that uncertain expression on the other man’s face.

Before their dialogue could resume, however, another quake arrived; but this one was unlike any of the others.

It was sharp and brief. Not terribly disorienting--or even that dangerous, really.

But something else occurred along with it.

The entire corridor behind Barnabas was gone. The connecting rooms, too. Part of the courtyard. An entire chunk of the castle.

Just gone.

In its place was a great crater. A half-sphere, gouged out of the building and the earth. And stranger still, it looked so clearly cut. Not like the aftermath of an explosion. Rather, it looked more like the mass had simply been subtracted from the space that it had been occupying mere moments ago.

Wide-eyed, Vito had no idea what to make of it.

Page 3692

The duplicates went in all different directions, and soon as he saw Barnabas swing at the wrong ones, he sent out an extra duplicate--this one ablaze--toward the group of hostiles on the other side of the hall.

It soared over there like a burning missile and erupted into a blanketing inferno, catching multiple opponents on fire at once.

Good. That was-- Barnabas twisted suddenly and backhanded him across the face.

Vito staggered. And instinctively, he knew that the next, far more deadly blow would already be on the way. That meager attack could only have been meant to create an opening for a follow-up with that club.

So without thinking or even trying to regain his footing, Vito dropped to the ground just as the club swung horizontally over his head. Then he went for Barnabas’ right leg, wrapping himself around it like a snake and twisting in order to pull Barnabas down the ground along with him.

Normally, this was a move that could paralyze the opponent with pain, but that obviously wasn’t going to work on a servant. It was, however, still quite useful for shifting the momentum of the fight. By now, Vito knew only too well how dangerous it was to fight this guy up close, so he decided to scramble back up to his feet while still maintaining his grip on Barnabas’ leg. Then he mustered all his strength and swung the man around like a sack of concrete, sending him crashing into a wall. Wood, plaster, and insulation exploded out of the impact point, covering the area in dust and debris.

And then there was an opening in the fight. Vito considered using it dive through the debris and pummel Barnabas up close, but he decided not to risk it and throw a blanket of flames over the scene, instead.

This way, Kerikos could also reacquire the location of Prince David’s soul. It wouldn’t do if they lost track of him for too long.

Ah, there he was. A good distance away. And still moving, seemingly.

Barnabas stood up through the fire, sweeping it away with a single stroke of his club.

Vito expected another front assault, but the other man took a moment to say something, instead.

“I hate hypocrites,” said Barnabas. He was scowling. Not looking at all like his previously laidback self.

Vito’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head. “Excuse me?”

Page 3691

He resorted to spikes again. Targeting the back of Barnabas’ skull, in particular. It was right there, after all. Easy pickings.

And the spikes connected, too. Skewering the man’s entire body, including the head. Straight through.

Barnabas did not stop moving, however. He still managed to yank Vito free and fling him away.

And he didn’t let up there, either. He continued to give chase, swinging the club wildly again.

Vito was confused, but he didn’t have the time to sit there and deconstruct what in the world had just happened. He returned to dodging and had to rely on Kerikos’ extra thought process in order to reassess the situation.

He could see lutetium spikes all over Barnabas’ body. They did not stay long. They were being pushed out by the undead regeneration.

That was a clue. Normal regeneration typically had trouble removing large foreign bodies from one’s flesh.

But enhanced regeneration? Such as that of pan-forma? That would do the trick. And yet, that also made little sense here, because thus far, Barnabas had not been speaking with the telltale double-voice indicative of a hyperstate. So what was going on here?

Wait a moment.

Vito’s eyes never strayed from the wooden club, but now he was seeing it in a new light. Hmm.

“What’s the matter?” said Barnabas in the midst of his barrage. “You look confused.”

But this time, Vito did indeed hear the two voices speaking in unison.

Kerikos felt like he understood. Barnabas’ reaper had been concealed inside the soul-infused club this whole time, just waiting for the right moment to pop out and shift the tide of battle with a hyperstate.

“Neat trick,” said Vito.

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Barnabas.

“Hmph.”

This wasn’t good. Pan-forma gave flat bonuses to a servant’s durability, connectivity, and regeneration. Vito could still avoid these attacks, but for how much longer? The boost to connectivity could manifest in any number of surprising and unwelcome ways, depending on what Barnabas’ exact ability was. Most likely, it was some form of transfiguration, since materializers tended to lead with it.

Well, Vito had a trick of his own in mind. The castle guards were close enough now that he could try to enact his plan.

Rather than attacking Barnabas in order to create a much more comfortable opening, he’d just have to use the duplicate technique in order to distract and then throw out a quick attack at the guard’s opponents. It wouldn’t be much, but hopefully, it would still be enough for the guards to realize that he was indeed on their side.

So that was what he did.

Page 3690

But this also gave them an opportunity to steer the direction of the fight. Kerikos could sense potential allies in various directions. Vaguely familiar soul signatures. Moving with quickness and certitude. Castle guards, most likely.

They just had to make sure that those guards didn’t confuse them with the attackers. Even with reapers for observational support, friendly fire was still undoubtedly a threat in the midst of all this chaos.

And the best way for Vito to distinguish himself as an immediate ally was to spare an extra attack for the castle guards’ opponents.

Which would be quite difficult with Barnabas hounding him like this.

There was nothing for it. He’d have to take a risk, Vito decided. He needed to create enough of an opening for himself, first.

The same duplicate technique from before might do the trick. But yes, it would be a risk. If Barnabas wasn’t fooled by the decoys when Vito tried to use them for cover, then Vito might very well have to eat that club with his face.

So the answer was to be patient, first. Try the duplicates multiple times. See how Barnabas reacted to them before committing to anything else.

And that was what he did.

The lutetium reacted as he engulfed himself in a deep reddish flame once more. He sent out the three duplicates, spreading behind him as he moved.

Barnabas changed tactics on him. Instead of continuing to pummel the ground, the man gave a big, sweeping swing of his club and caught two of the three duplicates at once--and almost the real Vito as well, if he didn’t take an extra hop backward to avoid it in time.

Agh.

Barnabas didn’t let up, either, and the chase continued.

Vito tried again. Five duplicates this time, spreading out even farther. It was more taxing on Kerikos, but it worked. Barnabas swung wide, catching three copies instead of the real thing.

Vito seized the opening. He circled around to Barnabas’ back and grappled him under the club arm and around the neck. He twisted with all his strength, but the man’s head didn’t pop free like Vito intended. In fact, it hardly felt like Barnabas was under his control at all.

Barnabas’ free hand found Vito’s left shoulder and gripped it with such strength that the bones therein snapped instantly. And even from that awkward angle, when Barnabas yanked on the crushed shoulder, Vito felt that the man might actually succeed in pulling him off his back unless he did something.

Page 3689

“No one interferes,” said Barnabas, looking briefly around. The other Abolishers seemed disappointed, but none argued.

Vito was about to say something else, but Barnabas didn’t give him time.

The man blitzed forward, wooden club cocked back for a big swing.

Vito reacted without thinking. He sacrificed both arms to a surge of molten lutetium as the rest of him dashed backward in a succession of quick hops.

Barnabas took the attack head on and didn’t stop. The club crashed down just in front of Vito--and kept crashing even as he moved. Barnabas followed him with continued, thunderous swings, leaving craters and kicking up debris with each of Vito’s hops.

And it soon became apparent to Vito that this was not going to stop. They were in a chase now, one spurred on by superhuman endurance. They were not going to get tired for hours, days, or even weeks, depending on how hard their reapers chose to push them.

The castle was taking more of a beating than Vito. In their wake, Barnabas’ great wooden club annihilated inconvenient walls and rendered the ground virtually impassable for normal people.

There were close calls, though. Vito could feel the rush of air from each swing, enough so that it was almost a distraction unto itself. He wanted to slide through a blow for a counterattack, but he knew that to be a deadly gamble, at best. Barnabas was able to swing that thing as if it weighed no more than a knife.

So Vito decided to just keep blasting him with fire, instead. The attacks weren’t doing much, but they weren’t doing nothing, either. He could see Barnabas’ smoldering, half-melted skin. It was obviously going to take a lot more than that in order to bring down a servant, but in a battle of attrition, Vito would eventually get there while these swings would not.

Still, this was not ideal. One slip up might just be the end. He didn’t know if he’d be able to survive even a single attack from that club. It seemed a peculiar choice of weapon, and Vito had a rather strong suspicion that there was more to it than met the eye.

He had to endure. To stay focused. On both Barnabas and their environment. Leaping continually backwards like this was no easy feat. Kerikos had to make sure the way behind them was clear. That they weren’t backing themselves into a corner.

Page 3688

Kerikos’ senses were telling Vito that Prince David and the other non-combatants had all made it through the hole and were running together. That was a relief, but he also had to be concerned about other enemies scattered throughout the castle. The reaper could sense so much chaos around Livingston, right now. It was difficult to parse through it all, but for the moment, their escape path seemed clear.

If they ran into trouble, would he be able to reach them in time? His hands were quite full here, but even if they weren’t, the growing distance might become an issue.

It was time to go for that previous strategy he’d thought of. He needed to steer this fight toward potential allies.

“Why so quiet all of a sudden?” said Barnabas. “I was enjoying our conversation!”

“As was I,” said Vito. “Apologies. Might you be willing to tell me what your goal here is?”

“Goal?” said Barnabas with another mild laugh. “Don’t know, don’t care. You’d have to ask the bigwigs about that.”

Kerikos had to wonder if that was the truth. Clearly, this fellow had enough authority to make all these other Abolishers listen to him, so it seemed unlikely Barnabas here would be that uninformed about whatever this current operation was.

Playing dumb, perhaps?

“I’ll tell you my name if you tell me your motive,” tried Vito.

Barnabas’ brow twitched. “You hard of hearing, friend? Can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

Hmm. “Then maybe you could tell me who is leading this attack, instead.”

“Now why would I tell you that?”

“Because you like me?”

“Heh. Not that much.”

“Shame. What if I tell you my name in exchange?”

“You were so protective of that before, but now you want to use it as a bargaining chip? Not just tough, but wily, too, eh? Somethin’ tells you’re trying to take advantage of my amicable nature, right now. Probably feed me some bullshit alias, instead, hmm?”

“Same could be said about you,” said Vito. “You wouldn’t lie about your leader’s name?”

“Of course not. I’m an honorable fellow, as you yourself have already pointed out.”

“True. But if you’re really so honorable, then you should trust me to be honorable in return.”

“Aha. Unfortunately for you, I’ve made that mistake before and learned my lesson. It’s a fine line between honorability and gullibility.”

“Don’t be like that,” said Vito. “If we can’t trust each other’s word, then what are we even doing, right now?”

Barnabas rolled his shoulders. “Good question.”

Aw, shit.

Next page on Oct 2nd

Thanks for reading, everyone. In the meantime, tell me your favorite and least favorite animals. Not counting mosquitoes, because those aren't animals. They're unholy abominations.

Page 3687

Kerikos was seeing an opportunity here, and Vito decided to take it. “The feeling might very well be mutual,” said Vito. “You seem too honorable for Abolish. What are you doing with them?”

“What, we can’t have honor over here? Says who?”

That was at least confirmation that they were indeed members of Abolish. “The many child-murderers and genocidal maniacs among your ranks, perhaps?”

The man laughed again. “Well, everyone’s entitled to their opinion, eh? Even maniacs.”

Vito’s gaze moved between the differing attackers as they stalked slowly around his vision, watching him with obvious anticipation on their faces. This little exchange was very much a double-edged sword, right now. On the one hand, it was buying precious extra time for the civilians to escape, but on the other, it was also giving the enemy servants time to regenerate and regroup. He could see some of the downed and scorched ones in the back getting back up again.

Maybe it was unwise to let this draw out any further.

But no.

Prince David’s safety came first. Lord Goffe had entrusted this task to him. The shame he would feel upon returning to Warrenhold alone...

There could be nothing worse. And not just for him, either. For the entirety of House Sebolt. The dishonor that would bring to his ancestors was painful to even countenance.

“You are a strange one,” said Vito. “I know this may be rude, considering I have not given you mine, but would you tell me your name?”

“Rude, and yet somehow still so polite! Surely, you are the strange one here, my friend!”

“I will not argue with that.”

“Hah! Alright. My name is Barnabas.” And he hoisted his huge club over his shoulder with an audible thud. “Sure you still don’t want to tell me yours?”

Vito almost wanted to smile. “How about this? If we ever meet again, I’ll tell you then.”

“Oho! Deal! Though, it’s a bit unlikely that you and I will both live through this first encounter of ours.”

“Not if you go easy on me,” said Vito.

Barnabas guffawed again, even louder than before. “Stop making me laugh so much, damn you! I already don’t want to kill you!”

“Our interests are aligned, then. I don’t want you to kill me, either.”

“Oh, man! At least I know you can’t possibly be a member of the Vanguard, with a sense of humor like this!”

Page 3686

That was easier said than done, though. He could sense even more enemies at the periphery of Kerikos’ senses. How he wished that some of those were defenders of the castle, but judging from the fact that none of them were attacking each other, he had to put that hope out of his mind.

No time for stray thoughts. The enemy was swarming, circling around the edge of his flames to try and get in close while others stayed back to pelt him with projectiles and flame-dampening blankets of materialization.

Good thing he didn’t rely on only fire.

Soul-strengthened lutetium still packed quite a punch on its own. In an instant, metal spikes flew out of his body like a porcupine, covering the same area that the flames just did but extending even farther, skewering multiple attackers at once.

But one of them pushed through, taking several spikes in the arms and chest while batting the rest away with a big wooden club.

Vito was forced back as the club came crashing down in front of him, and if the crater it left in the floor was any indication, that attack would have almost certainly flattened him if he hadn’t avoided it.

And Kerikos expected the man with the club to keep pressing the advantage, but to Vito and the reaper’s combined surprise, the man just stood there and raised a hand, which was apparently enough to bring the other attackers to a halt, too.

“You’re a tough one, aren’tcha?!” the man said with wide eyes and a toothy smile. “Tell me your name, warrior!”

Vito’s jaw clenched. Truthfully, he and Kerikos were both tempted. Perhaps if they hadn’t been trying to keep a low profile, they would have acquiesced to the enemy’s request. It was a most ancient gesture of respect on the battlefield to ask for the opponent’s name.

In the modern day, it was something of a lost practice. To hear it uttered from this strange villain now was certainly a surprise.

“Heh! If you don’t give me a name, then I’ll just have to invent one for you! You don’t want that, do you? Better to just tell me something, even if it’s a lie!”

“I trust you to give me something good,” said Vito.

The stranger burst out laughing. “He speaks! And what a thing to say! I think I like you!”

Page 3685

The Abolishers scattered. Some dashed backward, trying to get out of the way, but two simply pushed straight through the inferno, aiming to get right up in Vito’s face.

He welcomed them with another blast of fire, but this time, he lived inside the flames himself. He let the lutetium keep burning and create a soul-infused haze around his own body.

And he kept launching projectiles, too, but now they were nearly the size of his entire body and so would look like duplicates to confuse the enemy’s senses. With the help of pan-forma, he and Kerikos could do this so quickly that it wasn’t even necessary for each duplicate to serve as an attack. Some could be sent purely as distractions.

Without a doubt, the two frontal attackers ended up with more than they’d bargained for as the flaming body doubles swarmed and pummeled them into the ground.

The added control of Kerikos’ mind was key here. There was no way that Vito could have kept track of all the projectile duplicates without the reaper’s help, especially when he was also trying to keep track of the enemy’s position, as well. The reaper’s soul senses were much needed there, too, thanks to the blinding red light that filled his vision.

In the distance, Kerikos could sense some of the attackers from earlier, the same ones that Vito had made short work of. They were still regenerating, having to regrow their bodies either from scratch or from the neck down.

So Vito decided to get ahead of that problem while he could and incinerate their regenerative efforts. The reapers attached to them fled but not without incurring some damage themselves.

That was all the opening he got, though, because the other Abolishers were reconvening on him with long-ranged assaults. Gunfire, materialized projectiles, acid and explosions came for him all at once.

He dispersed more duplicates in quick succession in order to confuse their targeting, but there was still no way to avoid the attacks completely. It was his turn to endure a pummeling as he sprinted left while his duplicates scattered in all directions.

All directions, that was, except behind. At all costs, he couldn’t draw enemy fire toward the escaping civilians. Kerikos was keeping track of them, too, of course. If Vito could just buy a bit more time for them to finish climbing through that hole, then this fight might become a bit more manageable.

Page 3684 -- CCCIII.

Vito met David’s gaze, then motioned toward the hole he’d just climbed through. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to, either. The Prince understood. The hole was big enough for them to escape through, and Vito intended to buy time for them to do so.

David grabbed Victor’s arm and pulled him up, then began motioning for the other non-combatants to follow.

The Abolishers did not continue waiting, however. They stepped through the missing wall where the doorway had been.

And David picked up his pace, but he still could not help noticing how many of them there were. He counted at least five. And he had a terrible feeling there were even more behind them.


Chapter Three Hundred Three: ‘O, tempered child of the Burning Sea...’
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Vito Sebolt had never faced such odds. But Kerikos certainly had. And as they activated the hyper-state of pan-forma, all of the reaper’s memories and experience became his own.

Unfortunately, those things still did not fill him with confidence. If anything, Kerikos’ memories only served to reinforce how bad this situation actually was.

But oh well. Better to have the knowledge than not. At least now they were able to decide quickly on their best course of action here.

They knew there were plenty of other allied servants here in Livingston. They’d already sensed and even witnessed some of them fighting.

So it was just a matter of leading the fight over to some of those other warriors.

Easier said than done, perhaps. Especially when they couldn’t allow any of these Abolish bastards to get near the Prince or any of the other non-combatants. Not to mention, if those other warriors weren’t already rushing over to help him, then it was doubtless because they already had their hands quite full.

Regardless, Vito and Kerikos didn’t have the luxury of time to mull things over. They had to give the Abolishers something to think about.

And with Vito’s lutetium transfiguration, the first tactic that entered their minds was a horizontal shower of bright red fireballs.

They would have to sacrifice considerable body mass in order to cover so many enemies at once, but that was where pan-forma’s near-instant regeneration became extremely helpful.

The room roared to life with a red wave of flaming lutetium, filling the entire missing wall in seconds. The debris all over the floor caught fire instantly and began to melt or burn.