Unbound

Chapter Eight Hundred And Twenty – 820

A single point reverberated through Felix’s awareness, rippling through the assembled Nymean host like a warm breeze.

It was a signal.

Every magus lifted their weapons and hands, unleashing a salvo of silent power that filled the jungle basin. The Skills all moved as one, all different but somehow harmonious, as if part of a greater whole. The guardians all glanced up at once, but it was too late. A tide of power swept over them all.

“Spirit’s Cascade!” Dobrak howled into the barrage, hurling himself from the ridge. His crystalline sword burst into furious light, swirling with a chorus of pale forms as he brought it slashing down. A line of light cleaved into the gathered Chimera, breaking through hasty shields made from tarnished silver thread.

The Chimeras made no sound, but their withered limbs blossomed with argent, and they moved fast.

Felix stood atop the ridge, frozen in place as the battle unfolded before him. Claw, beak, fang, and horn met magic as the magi fought to put down the Chimera. Harnoq and tenku fought side by side, while wyverns lifted into the air to lash their tails at leaping magi. There were even a few strange, giant wolves with six legs and four curling horns rampaging among them, goring at the magi’s shields. Those looked the least emaciated out of all of them, but still silver thread trailed from their broken ribs and patchwork fur. Twisted as they were, Felix couldn’t help but see A’zek and Pit down there.

Real or not, the Chimera deserved more than this.

Unite the Lost!

The Skill spun up within him, sucking in potency from the jungle until the ridge became as transparent as glass. Yet when he tried to direct the power...it went nowhere. It failed.

Right. This wasn’t Ruin. This was done by her.

Below, power splashed off of the Chimera like water on a raincoat, which posed a real threat to the magi. In the moments since the attack began, over a dozen magi had fallen.

Adamant Discord!

Blue-white lightning erupted along Felix’s arms and lines of connection sprang up between him and the magi—and the Chimera. The latter were far thicker, and Felix instantly knew they were fed by his deep link to his own Companion. It echoed inside of him, stretching into a muffled distance that he didn’t dare follow at that moment.

Felix seized the lightning.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He hauled back so fast his arms thundered...and every single Chimera fell, their necks broken all at once.

You Have Killed—!

Felix banished the notification, unwilling to read it. Instead, he leaped down as the bodies of the Chimera turned to tainted smoke.

“Was that you, magus?” Dobrak walked over to Felix, carefully wiping white ichor off of his crystalline blade. “The lightning?”

Felix stared at the nearest corpse and could only manage a nod.

“I am unsure what sort of magic that was. I am not a magus, only Swordsworn to them.” Dobrak bowed. “But you assuredly saved our lives.”

The Orc turned to the corpse Felix stood near and bowed again. “Honor to you as well, fallen brethren. May the Spirits welcome you home.”

Felix swallowed, trying to find the words to thank the guy, when he noticed the other magi and warriors were doing the same. All of them bowed before the Chimera, and more than a few were weeping.

He looked back at the smoking corpse, its feathers and bones almost completely consumed. Felix bowed. “I’m sorry. I hope...” He cleared his throat. “I hope you found peace.”

One of the magi shouted, but Felix didn’t make out the words before a dissonant buzzing assaulted his senses. He stepped back, talons lifted, and flared his Perception. The buzzing intensified, crawling across his heightened senses and raking at his Affinity, but he was used to it. The sound resonated with the same Dissonance in his core space, radiating unpleasant tingles across his chest and limbs.

Without a word, Felix leaped, landing neatly near a clutch of Nymean magi. They stood before a wide, Platinum Chest—the same sort of Chest that one would get for completing a really hard Quest. The chest was opened, and inside was a single object no bigger than Felix’s closed fist. One of the magi lifted it with an inscribed tool that looked like a cross between forceps and giant tongs. The object pulsed with power, leaking Mana in an aurora that swirled around it, solidifying into spikes of crystal before melting back into a liquid flow.

A chunk of bone?

That Does Not Belong To You, Nymean Wretches!

The Sylphaen Vessel of Siva appeared above them all, wings of woven hands stretched wide against the night. They glowed silver, save for the orb in their chest, which erupted in a golden fire that spewed onto the field. Silver threads followed, spearing toward the magi and warriors.

“No.”

Felix lifted his hands, activating Skein of Fate and Sonata of Dominance. Threads sundered and fire extinguished beneath his Will, and the Vessel jerked backward. They almost seemed insubstantial, as if Felix were staring at a ghost rather than a person, but their rage was nearly physical.

Skein of Fate is level 124!

You Oppose The Divine! How?

“This is getting tiring,” he muttered. Empyrean Embrace!

Felix blinked. He was hundreds of feet away from the clearing, having plowed a wide trail through ridge, tree, and brush. He stood up. Dirt fell off of him, shed at the same time as his clothes, revealing diamond hard scales across his entire Body.

Now This Is A Feature Worthy Of A Scion.

Armed. Armored. Not Sheltering Behind The Walls Of Your Sanctuary. But Out, Braving The Unknown.

Dobrak stalked forward, more of his humanoid shape discarded as the black ink washed it away. The Beast stalked toward Felix on all fours, its back easily twenty-five feet tall and covered in thick armored plates. Blue eyes—his eyes—stared Felix down.

You Cannot Run.

Felix squared up, lifting his fists. “I don’t plan to.”

You Wonder, it mused. About Me. Us. Good.

Too many teeth stretched across the dark form, pale against the black.

What Is A Mind Without Curiosity?

It charged, moving faster than anything Felix had ever seen. It was like liquid lightning.

Stride of the King!

Adamant Discord!

The two met, lightning and shadow crashing in the dark jungles of Jaast. An explosion of liquid light shot into the trees, felling them by the dozen as the concussive blast uprooted everything within a hundred yards. The earth cratered, and suddenly Felix screamed as the Beast fell upon him.

Stride of the King is level 126!

...

Stride of the King is level 133!

Adamant Discord is level 138!

Felix pivoted, trying to escape the bulk of the Beast, but it was impossible. The thing was faster than him, and its talons raked bloody ribbons from his back and thigh with a single swipe. He stumbled, unable to walk on severed tendons. He flared Adamant Discord, shoving back at the Beast—but it grasped the same blue threads, and it yanked Felix right back.

A liquid paw slammed him to the earth, pinning him beneath its unsteady shape. The digits thinned, until a pair of too-large hands pressed into his chest. Felix ignited the earth with flame and sent its molten weight up against the Beast, but the shaping did nothing.

You Are Running Out Of Time.

The thing’s maw opened up above him, teeth glinting in the black.

Choose.

It snapped shut.

Yet that wasn’t the end.

Felix was suspended in the dark. Crushed by the weight of a vast monster that still seemed to be sitting on his chest, even as threads of blue hooked into every inch of his flesh and pulled. A familiar agony rolled across him, a buzzing burning as pieces of himself were hurled into the black. His thoughts fuzzed, and Felix was dimly aware that even pieces of his Mind were flitting away, scattered from his head like leaves from the crown of a tree.

Crown...

Felix focused, pouring all his remnant Mind into the effort. The thought resounded, gathering pieces of himself into a semblance of order. He reached within... and summoned the Crown of Elysium.

A halo of Crescian Bronze speared into the dark, and something howled in pain. The pressure against him lessened immediately, but he knew it was only for a moment. The Beast could not be held off for long.

Sound, Stone, or Scale. Which—?

Sound was about being constantly prepared for danger. Stone was about blocking out all things, good or bad. And Scale was...

Scale was about facing the dark, ready to fight.

There was no choice here, but Felix made one anyway.

I choose Scale!

Light blossomed...and the dark approved.