198 (II)

Escapees

***

It was raining heavily outside, the sky dark with clouds as Shiv, Adam, and Solzimort observed the scene patiently, beholding the magical barriers erected beyond the volcano, waiting for an opening to come.

Instead of trying to burst out from the top of the volcano, Adam wisely instructed the Hydra to squeeze itself free from its side. The Yellowstone supervolcano was immense, and even after they cleared the magma, there were still dozens of meters of stone and other matter to get through. More than that, they weren’t the only ones to have this idea. Certain other Pathbearers could phase through solid matter as well. However, they didn’t so much meld with it, and more than a few decided to smash their way out as well. As a result, sprays of lava shot out into the distance, and huge exit wounds were left along the insides of the volcano.

That was the first sign that something was wrong.

For the moment those Pathbearers went out, dozens were launched back in. An unceasing barrage of kinetic force blasted through the exit wounds, bombarding escaping prisoners without any hint of stopping. The weaker among the escapees came apart in sprays of viscera. The stronger prisoners were knocked back, and some were even pinned in place. As little more than a flattened shadow, Solzimort slipped out from one of the wounds, and soon, the Shiv watched as hundreds of prisoners began making a desperate play at an escape.

It was a near-hopeless play, as it turned out.

The first thing the Republic did after the collapse of the prison was to set up a perimeter. The perimeter was not manned by a few hundred or a few thousand soldiers. No, the Yellowstone Republic prided itself on its Prismatic Guard: integrated Pathbearers who fought using a variety of mutually supporting skills. And the most feared among them were the Poly-Magi. A formation of them consisted of Pathbearers who mastered multiple lores of magic, but on top of that, it had them understand each other’s lores so well that they wove intermingled spells.

This meant that all Poly-Magi spells were things of incredible complexity, with varying mana types and patterns woven over each other.

They unleashed spells of Chronomancy tinged with Pyromantic energies. Other spells followed after that, and the colors that rained down on the sides of the supervolcano were myriad and prismatic.The mana tumbled forward in a tightening net made up of fibers of gold, static, and so much more.

More than a few prisoners tried to burst through the net, and rather than bursting free from the net, they were pinned there and slowly being ripped asunder. The Prismatic Guard was not taking any prisoners. They couldn’t risk it, not with the capital nearby.

“Glad you told him to stop,” Shiv muttered.

“It’s standard protocol when trying to control a breakout,” Adam said. “Captain Irons ran a drill based on this exact situation once.”

“Legendary-Tiers breaking out of the capital Rubix Well?”

“Sort of. Not the capital specifically, but a Rubix Well. Much smaller in scale and… not with Legends, just normal prisoners. The strategies are the same, though. Contain. Pin. Repel.”

There were other spell patterns crushing in from behind the magical netting as well. A faint wave of Dynamancy pressed down, and the ground began to groan under the pressures of increased gravity. Then there were Aeromancy, Cryomancy, and Hydromancy.

The rain falling from the churning storm above turned into piercing shards. They embedded themselves in numerous prisoners, and bolts of lightning jumped between the bodies that were struck. Every few seconds, a forking surge of electricity would lash down, punching through the other spells that lined the outside of the volcano. After that, several bodies would fall, smoking, smoldering, and utterly ruined.

Yet despite this, they were facing dozens upon dozens of True Heroes as well as Legendary prisoners, and so the battle raged on. Not contained by the claustrophobic valleys of the orichalcum prison, many prisoners unleashed their powers wantonly, causing the scale of combat to appear truly apocalyptic. Blasts stretching for kilometers bloomed without ceasing, and shapes blurred within the perimeter so fast that the sound barrier was practically howling in perpetual agony as the fighting raged on.

But attracting Shiv’s attention more than any of these was the cause of the great net of mana being unable to fully close. As the vanguard of the prisoners stood a giantess of a woman. She wasn’t a human, and not of any race he’d met before. Shiv noticed how blue her skin was, how bright the runic sigils lining her flesh glowed.

Her muscles rippled, and huge horns jutted free from her forehead. An eruption of coldness swelled out from around her, and the outline of a massive ice dragon loomed, howling in fury at the oncoming spells. Waves of Chronomancy, Hydromancy, Cryomancy, and more pressed against her magic, and they came to an utter halt. For as powerful as the Poly-Magi were, and though they had the numbers, the prisoners were freedom-starved and unspeakably powerful.

Before this day was over, more blood would nourish the ashen slop of the grand volcano.

The giantess called out with a mocking laugh, “Is this the great power of the Yellowstone Republic? Is this the most their legions can muster?” Her voice somehow boomed over even the unceasing thunderclaps drowning out all other noise in the vicinity, and she slammed a fist against her chest, the colossal dragon repeating the action. The air crackled and grew colder, and the ground at her feet turned to pure ice across a span of kilometers, and then it shattered down the middle. From that great fissure emerged a legion of strange, ice-shaped monsters. Motes of Dimensionality spilled out from the crevice, and Shiv realized that he was probably looking at someone who could wield both ice and spatial magic in equal measure.

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“I am Prophetess Andra Culdottier, Caller of the Dead Realms, and I have sworn an oath to regain my freedom! I have told you, you cannot keep me here, and now I, Jotun Prophetess, will bring frigid ruin to your lands! Come and fight, feeble man-things of the Republic! Come and fight, come and die!”

As the Legendary Pathbearer roared her provocations, other prisoners gathered behind her, supporting her using their own skills. Shiv saw what seemed to be humans unleashing massive walls of stone, stone that rose and became enormous humanoids that constantly drew from the soil to further increase their own size.

They slammed massive, jagged fists against the oncoming spells and pushed them back some more, their Magical Resistance used as an active bulwark against the Republic’s closing net. Then there came a loud shriek, and the air combusted with crushing fire. But the fire glided over the Jotun’s ice magic, never coming close to melting it. Instead, it was shaped into a wall of pointed spears, and they tore into the oncoming wards with explosive intensity.

Just then, the horizon vanished in a wall of searing white. Gaps formed in Shiv’s vision; it was so bright that he felt his perception flinch with every subsequent blast. A phoenix screeched ahead, but rather than being a pure phoenix, Shiv used his Farsight to see what was hiding in its core.

And there he saw another goblin, this one channeling so much fire from his body that a mirage pulsated out from around him. He laughed aloud, promising to bring fire and ruin, but then a massive arrow struck him, punching through the phoenix’s fiery aura and taking him through the head. The flames died in an instant. The goblin was launched over the horizon, carried by a massive adamantine arrow far beyond Shiv’s ability to follow.

An automaton roared, shouted something incoherent, and it turned into a churning tornado that stretched up to the storm clouds above. It blasted forward and crashed hard against the net as well, and soon a gap formed, one large enough for Solzimort to slip through.

“Now!” Adam said, and then the Hydra was moving once more. This was the moment they had been waiting for. They could have made a run for it earlier, torn through the magical barricades without a care in the world, but despite being a thing of shadow, Shiv and Adam noticed how staring upon the wards earlier made their Awareness rattle painfully. That meant that they were dealing with more than the typical assortment of magic. Furthermore, they didn’t want to be stained with Divination mana. If they had that coating their body, then their escape would be temporary at best.

Solzimort glided along the ground, his massive presence made unknowable by the fact that he was simply a patch of black overshadowed by explosions large enough to envelop mountains, not to mention that he was further accelerated by Gone’s speed. As he blasted through the battlefield faster than most Pathbearers could ever hope to perceive, the group cut past the gap in the mana net before it ever had a chance to close.

And then they were on the other side. But that didn’t mean they were free from danger. Beyond the many nets coiling around the supervolcano were legions of Poly-Magi, and more were teleporting in with every passing second. Instead of standing upon an open field, Shiv saw them gathered on what seemed like huge building-sized mithril stages that had pulsing cores of Dimensionality, bringing in reinforcements by the second. There were thousands of them already, and they had the skies encircled, had massive battlelines and trenches forged by Geomancers to deny anyone trying to slip underground.

Rows of Vanguards departed from these stages, bearing their shields high, while Riders, Archers, and Scouts spilled upward, taking designated positions high above. Every few seconds, someone would fire a grand projectile. It would zip through the sky, moving so fast that Shiv struggled to keep track of it, and then it would pass through the magic clutching the supervolcano before striking the ground hard. There was never a moment when the earth wasn’t shaking, when there wasn’t a concussive impact slapping against an unprotected body. It looked like the Republic’s own soldiers were besieging its most protected structure.

Yet despite this, none of them turned any of their attacks upon Solzimort. Adam let out a rasping breath. That was when Shiv knew they might nearly be in the clear. “They don’t see us, not even the Psychomancers.”

“That’s because I’m keeping their attention warded,” the Educator commented dryly. “They’re fixated on the other prisoners, but even so, your thoughts would have been registered and your presence made known instantly were it not for me. What a boon my presence has proven to be.”

“If you’re fishing for a compliment, you’re gonna be waiting for the rest of eternity,” Shiv shot back, but the Deathless made a special note to include a slice of Psychomancy next time as well. He needed to be complete about things if he wanted to hide from the Republic.

As Solzimort continued traveling along the downward slope of the supervolcano, Shiv watched as the many war stages tumbled past them. Soon, they left the coiling storm behind them. As Shiv looked up, he found himself staring at an open sky, a sky that glistened with all the colors of twilight. They hadn’t been in that prison for very long, but it felt like years had passed.

The sight made his heart sing. Freedom was a brittle thing, and freedom wasn’t yours unless you could use your power to safeguard it. In that moment, Shiv knew Adam was thinking the same thing. He just knew; he didn’t even need to look at his friend’s face.

The Yellowstone Supervolcano was layered in so many streams of magic that its true form was practically unknowable. However, at its crown, an enormous structure rumbled as if an ancient beast awakened from slumber. At a glance, it resembled a massive dome with three spikes sticking out from it. It was forged of orichalcum at the tips of its spires, but the rest was a mixed assortment of metals. Shiv could glean adamantine, then there was glass, and then there seemed to be flowing pools of magma circulating between each of the three spires, connecting the three sections of the massive edifice with veins of lava. It hovered over the volcano like a crown, and from each of its pointed heights spewed jets of Pyromancy across the city. These expanded into complicated networks in the distance, and as Shiv followed them, he saw they were bound to distant spire tops as well.

Only the tops of those distant spires were visible, however. They were mithril-tipped and magic-conducting, but the streets and distant capital itself were enwreathed in a dense veil of impenetrable darkness. A darkness that belonged to a specific Ascendant.

“Harlock,” Shiv hissed. “We need to get out of here. It’s—”

“Perfectly safe,” the Educator said. She chuckled. “I told you before, boy. They cannot sense me when I bear this tome. It matters little that we sink into his darkness. He is blind to us. And his power is a narrow thing.” A low hum came from the Educator’s mind. “Tell me, Deathless. Have you ever seen the capital before? The seat of the Republic’s power?”

“No,” Shiv said. “And I don’t think it’s the best time to go sightseeing. We need to escape.”

“Oh, and we will. But before that, it’s best for you to get an understanding of the city’s layout. I have a feeling that will be quite important for you in the future. Now. Solzimort, was it? Stop here for a moment.”

“Huh? Why?” the Hydra asked. Shiv wanted to know the same thing.

“Because I’m going to peel away Harlock’s curtain and give our good friend a good look at the jewel of the Yellowstone Republic.”

And with that, a glowing incandescence began to seep out from the patch of shadows that comprised Solzimort’s being…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep