190 (II)

Anticipate [II]

His shot tore a gash open on the surface of existence. A pathway formed, and on the other end came scenes of disaster and devastation. Billowing waves of destructive mana poured down the dimensional pathway. Adam had anticipated this, so the Heroic orc vanguards held up their shields and kept the stray blasts at bay. Magic of all varieties came surging down—including more than a few that Shiv had never seen before.

The air itself seemed to hiss as ash-gray spells cleaved and shattered other mana types they came in contact with. They slammed against the orcish Vanguard and burst apart in clouds of ash. The orcs were driven back, but Shiv stepped in behind them. He planted his hands against their backs and circled his Shapeless Tides through their bodies. At once, the magic was stymied. Instead of driving the orcs back, it scattered apart like waves dashing upon the jagged face of a hanging mountain.

Shiv felt a clinging sensation from the spell. It was like swallowing ash, or dragging his skin across gravel. But then, it was gone. The gray faded, and Shiv’s Magical Resistance prevailed. A gap was open, and on the other end, Cripple awaited.

“Go, go, go!” Adam called aloud. “Time clones! Cross! Golems! Cross!”

The orcs parted for a brief moment, and Shiv took the brunt of the spillover magic that seeped out between them. As he did that, his Vitae Golems splashed through his body and slammed into the crashing waves of destructive mana. They were lined with Shapeless Tides as well, and it took eighteen orc vitality donors to see them all created.

Where once the dimensional pathway was bathed in clashing colors, there now were spots of shadow gliding in the mix. The golems were battered from all sides by leftover blasts of magic that the ashen spells didn’t destroy earlier. A few of the golems even lost chips of Vitae along the way, but they didn’t break. The Shapeless Tides kept them together, and as they moved, they formed an arc-shaped flight pattern that kept the worst of the magic at bay. Shiv and the orcs stepped away from the dimensional rift entirely, and Kura’s temporal clones started flooding in.

At this point, Adam fired another arrow. This one tore a new rift open on the Orichalcum wall to their left. “Cross, cross now!” Adam called out.

The orcs all rushed along the dimensional pathway in short order. The ones with the highest Reflexes went first. They were followed by Kura, one of her time clones, a Vitae Golem time clone, Shiv, Whisper, and finally, the tail of the group, consisting of Adam and the orcish vanguard. When they arrived in the next prison cube, Adam already had a Veilpiercer drawn, and he aimed his bow high up at an angle, searching for their next potential cube.

Shiv gripped his knife tightly and felt his body grow taut with tension. Even though he wasn’t in the fight himself, he couldn’t shake the feeling that violence would be upon them soon, that the Ascendants would suddenly appear and finish the job they couldn’t earlier. They’d taken many precautions to avoid unnecessary risk, but the Ascendants and Avatars had proven themselves to be a most dangerous collection of foes.

If something went wrong—

A cry came from Kura. Shiv flinched and saw that her abdomen was wounded. Blood seeped out from a deep cut that trailed from her stomach to the right side of her pelvis. Shiv wrapped her using one of his mana hydras and removed the injury in an instant. She gave him a thankful look, but an expression of focus clung to her features.

“What just happened?” Shiv said.

“We’re trying to get to Cripple,” the elven Chronomancer declared absentmindedly. “But I think… one of my time clones ran into Daughter instead. I failed to dismiss that one in time.” True to her word, Shiv saw a faint splash of blackness seep out from her now-closed wound. She gritted her teeth. “Daughter just vanished. We need to move. I see Cripple—I’m going… I’m going after it.”

The tension inside Shiv spiked to new levels as Adam called out once more. “Firing! Prepare to reposition! Gone! On standby! Anything comes, intercept!”

The hyper-fast Gone came alive with golden lightning. And a second later, she vanished—just as Adam fired another shot. A new dimensional pathway tore open. Something tar-black and fast tore out from the dimensional pathway they just crossed. A clash shook the air as Gone slammed into something—something barely larger than she was.

Shiv launched himself into the fray. Gone slashed and tore at Daughter’s new Waif, but the girl was laughing, her wounds spewing black tar that tainted the dimensional pathway she resided within. Her laughter died when she saw Shiv tearing through the air like a missile, his blade coated in Vitae. A flood of fear surged out from her, and his power climbed.

The Waif’s eyes widened. Daughter let out a whimper—and her Avatar promptly pushed away from Gone as she fled across the way she came.

Shiv struck nothing—found himself far too slow to catch up to the fleeing Ascendant. “Shit. Adam. It’s Daughter. She’s gone, but she saw me.”

“That’s fine,” Adam said. “They’ll be confused now. Udraal’s Vitae Golem has your signature too. They’ll still be scattered, but this is why we need to keep moving. So cross! Cross now!”

And with another dimensional pathway open, the group moved again. Shiv held the rear this time with Gone, and as he stared down the last dimensional pathway, he waited.

He waited for the Ascendants to come for him and the others again.

Or for one of Kura’s time clones or his golem to bring Cripple back.

***

The System was screaming.

Cripple could hear the world around him howling with agony and confusion. Tumbling gears and broken fragments slammed against its new Avatar. Debris drifted in this ruined place, consumed by a faint blue fire engulfing the remains of countless prison cubes and even more prisoners and wardens in a space as vast as an Abyssal cavern.

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The screams were coming from the damned Pathbearers. There had been no warning, no chance at survival for those unfortunates. One moment, they were either trying to escape from the Rubix Well or to quash the sudden rebellion. The next, a cataclysmic blast had consumed an entire portion of the Nadir, and it only continued to spread.

Udraal Thann unleashed his ruinous power recklessly and openly, and Cripple knew the Abyssal Lord was deliberately trying to draw the Ascendants to him.

There were many statements one could make about Cripple, but perhaps the most poignant right now was the fact that the other Ascendants raised no protest with regard to its participation in this operation. They knew it had performed an act of supposed betrayal by warning the Deathless and trying to provide him with means of escape.

But now, with Udraal on the scene and the Starhawk missing, the Ruling Council needed their strongest member. Someone willing to take the hits the others couldn’t. To suffer wounds and indignities that the others couldn’t. To unleash blows that devastated adversaries that the others couldn’t.

Couldn’t.

That was the word that also belonged to Udraal. They couldn’t keep track of him. They couldn’t tell what he was doing, and they couldn’t guess what he was about to unleash next. Through the burning sea of Animancy he’d unleashed came more spells. Spells born of lores Cripple didn’t even recognize, composed of symbols he’d never seen before.

The machine Ascendant flinched as its Avatar’s left arm fully dissolved. Carrier 202 was a good Pathbearer, despite not being an exceptional combatant. After suffering a Cursed blow at the hands of a Storm Tyrant while performing a logistics mission, its core was permanently ruptured. Only a timely pact with Cripple delayed its inevitable end, and even then, Carrier was in constant agony.

Despite this, Carrier had proven to be among Cripple’s braver Avatars—practically fearless for what was to come, for the end was always approaching it, in a way that was far more present than for the other Avatars. Which made it all the more disturbing when Carrier shrieked in pain when it was hit by some of Udraal’s stranger spells.

Carrier wasn’t shattered by the spell. It wasn’t scorched by Pyromancy. Lightning didn’t damage its circuitry. Dynamancy didn’t crack its chassis. Instead, bits of it simply began to flake away, turning gray and ashen, just like the color of the spell that struck it.

Entropy, Cripple realized. Other such spells were tearing free from the faint blue that surrounded them. The Entropy spells were connected by faint veins, veins that pulsated with flashes of white. The color was so pure that it hurt when Cripple beheld it.

“Ascendant!” Carrier 202 cried out, its left arm turning entirely to ash. The Avatar became a void in Cripple’s soul. It could pour more power into it—especially now that Carrier mirrored Cripple’s own mutilation. “It is time. I am ready. Withdraw your power from my core. Let the wound finally arrive. I am ready. I wish to burn.”

“Not yet,” Cripple said to Carrier. “Soon, brave Pathbearer. But not yet. Not until we have our gaze on him.”

A new chain of Entropic spells came, but they promptly dissolved as a pulsating wave crashed into them. Carrier 202 turned and saw the other Avatars approaching. They were shrouded within their protective dome, and a swarm of Animantic drones spread out from the wards. They drained the magic Udraal unleashed wantonly, unveiling more ruined cubes hidden in the existential devastation of the blue flames.

“Cripple,” Maiden called from within the dome. “Do you see him?”

Cripple scanned fading Animancy, but saw nothing of the Abyssal Lord. Even its Divination was denied.

You have received a Divined message from Udraal Thann: Come now, Ascendant. It will never be that easy. Put some effort into your hunt.

“No,” Cripple said, burdened by the growing feeling that Udraal was just playing with them; distracting them from—

“Cripple! Ambush!” Enoch’s bellow shook the air as a dimensional pathway burst open beside Cripple.

Cripple’s frustration faded entirely and was replaced by a feeling of purpose. Finally. No more hiding. It was time for battle. It flooded Carrier 202 with as much divine mana as the Avatar could bear. Carrier’s missing arm was replaced by a massive piston of roaring flame, and as it turned to strike at whatever was about to emerge from the pathway, one of Daughter’s Waifs burst into existence beside it.

A flood of golden shadows spilled out from the dimensional rift. Cripple recognized them immediately: time clones created by Kura, Exiled Daughter of Scar-Tongue Cult. Her actions were obvious—revenge. She sought to strike back against the Ascendants for caging her in the Rubix Well, and thought now was a good time to strike.

Her folly was thinking herself powerful enough to challenge gods as a mere Legend.

Daughter fully manifested over her Waif and drove a wicked blade into a golden shadow’s gut. The clones writhed—almost all of them. A few broke from the others, and Carrier drew back a fist to leave them in ruins. But then, Cripple saw it. Mana colored red and white, the feeling of heat and lifeforce.

Cripple knew those golems. Shiv? it wondered.

The golems held up their hands as they drew closer to Cripple. They gestured at themselves, waving wildly instead of attacking.

“Face me, traitor to the Republic,” Carrier intoned dully. “Face me, and grant me a proper finish to my tale.”

All the golden shadows winked out, just as Daughter and a small army of her Waifs spilled across the pathway. But as the Vitae Golems drew closer to Cripple’s Avatar, they remained passive, waved harder, and Cripple knew something was off.

This wasn’t an ambush. This wasn’t how ambushes proceeded. So then, what was this?

Carrier drew its fist back. Cripple made a decision to take a chance. “Carrier. No. Make contact, but do not break the enemy. I wish to see what is being plotted here.”

Carrier hesitated. The flames of forming its new left hand flickered. “My Ascendant, the others—”

“Have made their choices. I am making one of my own. There is no point in waiting for a reckoning that is certain to come. There is only purpose in getting ahead. Make it look natural. Like we were surprised instead.”

“As you command.” Carrier lifted its fist and punched. A blast of howling fire tore over the Vitae Golem’s shoulder—and impacted one of Daughter’s Waifs in the side before she could take the golem from behind. In the next instant, the golem crashed hard against Carrier’s chassis, and a tearing sensation followed as the Shapeless Tides swimming down the golem’s body tore against Carrier.

Then, there came a burst of Chronomancy as the golem seized Cripple’s Avatar with both hands. At the same time, a new flood of Entropy spells slashed across the air like bolts of lightning and came for Cripple from all directions.

“Not a moment too soon,” Cripple muttered, just as it felt itself drawn across space and time alongside its Avatar.

“CRIPPLEEE—” Daughter screeched in fury.

But by then, it was too late for second thoughts and regrets.

Cripple was across, and it found itself standing in an abandoned prison cube next to a Vitae Golem, surrounded by orcs, prisoners, an automaton, and Shiv.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep