Chapter 292: The Husk Leader’s Return

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the air above the destruction in the Aethelosian camp. A small dot from Althea’s distance, but still visible. Normally, the figure wouldn’t have drawn much attention compared to the chaos happening below, but the manner in which they appeared — out of nowhere, in the blink of an eye — made Althea and the Feraxians in the air tense visibly.

“Who’s that?” the young Feraxian Lord asked. But his question was met with silence as the other Lords stared intently at that figure with wide-eyed expressions.

“Move!” Malakor roared, veering abruptly downwards and to the left with his tamed beast.

The other Lords were a beat slower, but they reacted as quickly as they could, scattering from the close circle formation where they had previously hovered. Althea’s reaction was also quick, the communication between her and her Echo Strider soul mass near-instant.

They had barely scattered when a black mass clawed the air where they’d just occupied.

A loud piercing screech tore through the air in its wake, the cry of a wounded beast. One of the Lords — the young Lord — hadn’t been as quick to move. His flying beast, a large gray hawk, got caught by the attack. Its entire legs and lower half were severed cleanly out of existence, leaving it tumbling down to its death along with its rider, who had somehow survived the hit.

The young Lord was thrown off kilter, spinning out of balance in the air as his beast cried its last. He struggled to understand what had just happened. Everything occurred in the span of less than a second.

What was that black thing?!

Those were his last thoughts before he felt something wrong about his perception. His thoughts were slowing and he was looking at the lower half of what used to be a man’s full body.

Wait, are those my… legs—?

“Lord Jun has fallen!” someone yelled, distraught and furious. “Brace yourself! It’s coming again!”

Althea could barely hear anything over the roar of the wind in her ears. Her hair whipped crazily behind her as she focused on putting as much distance between herself and the black figure as possible. That was the Husk without a doubt… And that meant barely anyone here, if any at all, was going to survive.

Her only hope now was the fortress… perhaps the Preceptor could change the situation.

She whizzed in that general direction, weaving haphazardly through the air and making abrupt, illogical turns just like she’d caught glimpses of Finn doing back in that prehistoric forest.

She didn’t even know whether the Husk was after her. She didn’t know what was happening at all behind her. But she kept on doing it nonetheless. Her erratic movements could make her seem a less appealing target compared to the others.

Althea had crossed more than half the distance to the fortress when her danger senses started to spike. It wasn’t a full-on blare of alarm, but a gradual increase. A disturbance to the order around her immediate surroundings that she could somehow sense.

The Husk was close by, but it wasn’t chasing after her directly. Perhaps some other party? Someone who’d thought the same as her? To head to the Ossuarist fortress for safety? The thoughts moved rapidly through Althea’s mind.

Why has Preceptor Odette not moved yet, anyway?! She has surely seen the chaos by now!

The danger Althea was feeling as a result of the disturbance to the order around her suddenly spiked, and she leapt off her soul mass, dismissing it at the same instant.

Immediately, the spot she previously occupied was squeezed tightly as a very familiar figure morphed into existence there, his hands outstretched in a grasping motion that grabbed nothing but air.

The Husk Leader.

Time seemed to slow as Althea’s eyes locked onto his perpetually smiling ones. His grey-skinned face was still pulled in that fake, uncanny smile that flickered unnaturally as he squeezed his face into a frown as if he was trying to replicate the correct expression.

Althea had nearly forgotten just how horrifying this creature was.

Was this how Finn felt when it went after him? The thought crossed her mind just as she willed her Echo Strider Owl back into existence.

It morphed out of the air behind her, diving downwards immediately and sweeping her onto its back in a clean motion.

But it wasn’t just her Echo Strider soul mass that she called out. Besides the Owl, her plain black sword morphed into existence before her palm. She grasped it firmly, eyes locked onto the Husk Leader as he floated in the air, fist still clenched, watching her pointedly like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.

Althea didn’t know what had happened to him, but she was thankful for the chance his pause provided.

She used it to call out her last soul mass: the female human elemental.

Her shadowed form materialized on the back of the Echo Strider Owl, and before she even formed fully, she launched a rapid barrage of green flames like missiles towards the floating figure of the Husk, prompting the Husk to finally move.

He dodged the attack easily, disappearing and reappearing a mile away, his eyes still never leaving Althea.

Does he not recognize me? Althea frowned, still bearing towards the fortress speedily. She no longer bothered weaving and dodging; she knew it was useless now. Now that the Husk Leader was this close, that spatial ability of his rendered any thought of escape useless. He could always reappear in her path, blocking her entirely. But now that he seemed focused on scrutinizing her, there was no way she wouldn’t take advantage of that time to get as close as possible to the fortress.

“Seneschal!” A voice reached her from a distance to her side. She glanced over sharply and saw the bedraggled figure of Lord Malakor. He stood on his feline-avian beast, hair flinging about wildly, eyes deranged like a man out for blood. Althea didn’t know exactly what had happened, but from his beaten-down look and the wounds on his beast, she could already form an idea in her mind.

“Where is your Preceptor and why hasn’t she moved?!” Malakor barked with wild eyes. “We must kill that thing! That bloody abomination!” His voice was laced with a hatred and fury so deep, Althea could feel it from her distance. She shouted back over the wind:

“Focus on getting as close as possible! She will have no choice but to move—!”

“Look out!” Malakor cut her off with a yell, just as, out of nowhere, a vertical slash that tore the wind itself bore down on her.

Althea reacted as quickly as she could, but she could only save herself, and not her soul masses, especially the Owl she stood on — her Echo Strider. The female elemental soul mass reacted and dodged to the side, mid-cast, but the Owl wasn’t as lucky. The slash tore it in half cleanly like butter where Althea’s plain sword wasn’t able to block.

Immediately, a pained shriek tore through the air, one that made Althea’s eyes widen in shock and confusion. Her eyes darted over to the position of the Husk, and surprisingly found him there, still floating with that uncanny smile that was now squeezed into one of puzzlement.

He hadn’t moved at all.

So where was this attack from?

The Owl plummeted, and Althea immediately lost her footing, falling towards the ground far below along with the female elemental soul mass.

The moment her Owl’s form fully dispersed, Althea tried summoning it again. This was one of the most broken aspects of Ossuarists. So long as they still had enough soul strength, they could resummon their fallen soul masses on the condition that the attack that felled it wasn’t dealt directly to its essence as a soul mass…

In other words, so long as it wasn’t dealt by an Ossuarist… at least one with a much superior soul strength compared to the soul mass in question, the soul mass could be resummoned… though at less than half the strength.

Needless to say, it wasn’t something that could be done indefinitely, but at least, for Althea, her resummoned Echo Strider would still serve the basic purpose of preventing her from falling to her death…

But to her utmost surprise, her attempt to resummon her Echo Strider bore no result.

There was no response in the slightest.

In fact, she could feel her connection to the Owl getting weaker within her soul, almost as if it had been purged entirely by that single strike.

An Ossuarist attack?!

Just who is strong enough to purge my soul mass in one strike?! Althea’s eyes flitted about as she spun in the air towards the ground, trying to find the source of the attack.

Then she finally noticed a second figure floating in the air.

No.

He wasn’t floating in the air…

He was standing on a floating sword, his single arm crossed behind his back in a sage-like pose as the winds whipped his robes wildly.

Preceptor Elias…?

A mix of relief, shock, and confusion filled Althea immediately.

He was here. A Preceptor was finally here. One whose power she had witnessed closely. Now that he was here, the situation was stabilized. Even the Husk shouldn’t best someone as powerful as Preceptor Elias — or rather… just Elias. His title had been stripped after all.

Althea would’ve been fully relieved now. But there was a glaring issue that prevented that and made her sink into even more despair, especially as she locked eyes with the old man and saw the deep coldness in his eyes…

Why did he attack me…?

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