Time-Smith - interlude: Bulwark vs Living Armour - Part 3 (Patreon)

Silence enveloped the stone battlefield, the only movement the flickering torches, and the collection of dust and rubble that tumbled through the dungeons corridor. The broken pieces of stone did not move by their own will, or even the combatants. No, they were carried along by the dungeons strong winds. As if eager to see the struggle itself, the winds flowed past the combatants frozen forms. One human, and three of the dungeons weaker suits of living armour were battling, and it seemed to be a desperate struggle. And now, it observed as the human began to do something strange.

***

Markus clenched his fists and focused, feeling his body grow denser. The weight of his magic bore down on him, enhancing his strength as he tried to channel it into his sword. He pressed his mana against the barrier of his form, expanding it, yearning for it to break free from his skin and increased his density even further than before.

He advanced on them, and the ground cracked in acceptance of his charge, but the suits of armour were not intimidated. They merely shifted, the blue flames of their eyes flaring, and their swords flicking out in unison to knock Markus off balance. He stumbled, his grip on his sword loosening as he lost control of the mana in his sword hand. His mana stopped expanding and became rooted under his skin, and inside his form as it no longer made tried to break free.

His opponents gracefully evaded his sword swings as if they were child's play. They flowed like a single entity, striking with precision and unity, while he struggled to breach their defences. Despite his newfound strength, Markus couldn't reach them. Their movements were too synchronised. It was frustrating, infuriating even. He had to do something drastic, he needed to change the tide, and take control. Or this would be death by a thousand cuts. He needed something, some kind of edge. [Density Control] just wasn’t enough, and what could he do with [Gardening]?

Nothing.

He needed to extend [Density Control] beyond the confines of his body, and into his sword.

With singular focus, Markus began to devote all of his will, attention, and mana towards expanding his skills influence outwards and collapsing its mana in on itself. It felt like his skill was breathing outwards, and then inwards. It was a constant cycle of growth and compression. Each time his mana exploded outwards, he pushed it against the confines of his skill; against the barrier of his bodily form. It was growing with each pulse while constantly increasing in density. His mana pulsed outward then compressed towards his core, like a violent heartbeat. He willed his mana to burst and break past his skills limits once more, and pushed until he felt it pressing against his skin and teetering on the edge of breakthrough.

By now, he sank inches into the rocky ground with every move. He was so close, but something was missing. What was it? What would help him break past his limits?

He did not have time to think as the armour pounced upon him again, leaping in an arc toward him.

Markus clenched his fists in pain. This wasn’t working. In a fit of desperation, he closed his eyes, raised his arms in defence, and focused all of his mana and will on [Density Control]. He began constantly increasing his defence and hardiness while urging his mana to expand and break past his skin. He continued the cycle his mana and ignored their approach. He had to make this work.

He felt the numb sensation of impacts and slashes as the armours attacked his prone form. But he pressed on.

He was scared, terrified even, yet he refused to give up. He had come too far to let the armour defeat him. Dense mana coursed through his veins. Every action, every strike he’d made up to this moment had been fuelled by a burning determination to save his party, to defy the odds stacked against him. And witnessing Evan, who surpassed his limits, had caused Markus's resolve hardened. He yearned to push the boundaries of his own skill, to make his sword an extension of his density control. He could bare these blows for a few more seconds, he was so close to a breakthrough, he could feel it. With unwavering determination, he prepared for one final push.

His skill, [Density Control], was limited to empowering his body alone. The priests [Appraisal] had told him the weight of his mana would remained trapped, unable to pierce through his form and infuse any weapon. The [Appraisal] had claimed that was not the skills intended function.

Markus had chosen to ignore the restriction. With a surge of focus and mana, he pushed outward with everything he had, his core of [Density Control] pulsing like a living thing. It expanded in all directions, pressing against his skin on all sides, and the barrier holding his skill in place rippled. Painfully.

Markus gasped in shock and fell to his knees, his sword clattering to the ground beside him.

It happened in an instant. His skill snapped free of the confines of his body, and past his skin into the air around him. A bubble of dense mana, a constant shifting of magic pouring from the core in his abdomen, enveloped him and everything an arms length from him in a thick, constant sphere.

Marks could feel the density of everything around him. In a bubble of dense mana, a constant shifting of magic pouring from the core in his abdomen, enveloped him and everything an arms length from him in a thick, constant sphere. He could feel the density of the air around him, the stone beneath his feet, and the scraps of metal broken free from his attackers. A sphere of [Density Control] surrounded him on all sides.

Markus embraced the sensation with awe. He felt as though he could influence anything within the sphere of mana surrounding him with his skill, even the very air. Everything that was within his sphere of mana, was his to control.

Every part of his being felt solid, more present, as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders. With each step he took, the rocky stone ground cracked and stuttered beneath his feet, the weight of his density causing the very earth to yield. The living suits of armour stalked him, closing in slowly, carefully, their blades glistening with malice, only managing to leave light scratches upon his resilient form, barely drawing a trickle of blood.

As he rose from the dust and broken rock beneath him, Markus looked up at the three suits of armour, and struck the closest one as it tried to strike him. As it struck, It was only an arms length away and within the influence of his sphere. His fist surged with density, and a force of dense air extended from it—an explosive force that ripped through the air, collided with a suit of Armor and sending it hurtling into the darkness, its twisted metal casting shadows against the cracked stone pillars. The armour spun, like a discarded puppet, before crashing in the darkness with a resounding metallic thud, spinning as it disappeared from sight.

Markus felt the world within his sphere of influence, every molecule a testament to his control. He condensed the air into an invisible barrier that met the remaining armour’s glistening swords. The blades slowed, dragging as though cutting through a wall of solid stone. Their effortless dance of death now stilted, hindered.

Darting forward, Markus intensified his grip on the hilt of his sword, a silent command to increase its density. He struck with newfound force, an echo of thunder reverberating through the chamber as his blade collided with metal hide.

The armour recoiled.

Markus did not let the opportunity slip by. He weaved around one of the opponents, seizing it by its gauntlet. He shifted his density, and increased his grip, making his hand a vice that it could not escape from. He used the suit of armour as a makeshift shield against the others. Blows rained upon it, hacking off pieces of the armour until Markus was forced to relinquish his grip. The suit retaliated, raising its sword high, the sapphire flame in its eyes flickering ominously.

He commanded the density of his own body to harden. The blade struck him, and skidded off him as if he was made of iron.

But he felt it. The drain.

His mana was depleting rapidly. He launched one final attack, commanding the density of his sword to reach its pinnacle. With a burst of energy, he swung, cleaving through two of the suits of armour. They fell, their metal carcasses clattering noisily onto the stone floor.

Yet, the final suit remained, twin swords whirling menacingly.

Exhaustion was creeping in. His vision blurred, his breath ragged. The sphere flickered, threatening to recede. The last suit lunged, blades aimed to kill.

In the blink of an eye, a figure materialised in front of Markus.

Evan.

He unleashed a barrage of forceful punches that sent shockwaves through the air, each one causing the armour to shudder violently. He struck the armour upwards, and in a blink, reappeared above it, punching it back down towards the floor. Lucia joined the fray, her movements a blur as she aided Evan in dismantling the final adversary.

Together, they tore the suit of armour apart until it was nothing but legs and scrap metal. The final blow came from Evan, his fist crushing the glowing crystal at its core.

Markus sagged, relief and exhaustion washing over him in waves. The fight was over. His vision faded as unconsciousness claimed him, a soft smile on his lips as the final surge of mana burst within him, gifting him with information and understanding.

***

Time stood still as the enemy fell, their defeat etched into the annals of the dungeons walls.

The dungeon observed as the last attacker fell to the ground, defeated. Markus stood there, panting heavily as he surveyed the scene. He turned back to see Evan and Lucia rising from the broken and defeated form of the remaining suit of armour. His body was covered in blood, and he knew that the wounds would take a while to heal. But he had no regrets. He smiled weakly as he fell to his knees in exhaustion and collapsed. And as he faded into blissful unconsciousness, surges of mana assaulted his core, filling and expanding them until one of them burst with meaning, imprinting its message into his thoughts.

Markus passed out, and his fading smile stretched even wider.

[Feat Recognised!]

[Skill Evolution achieved!]

[Subskill: Density Domain obtained!]

Oh. He thought, as his mind embraced the inked blackness of unconsciousness so that’s what it feels like