Astral Threads, Ch 38: Sacrifice and Death (Patreon)

The spells from Sam’s bracers descended on the invaders like a wave of death. He avoided targeting the elementals, but fortunately they were grouped near the back along with a few Legionnaires and Enslavers, which meant he could ignore that section for a bit.

As far as he was concerned, only the eight Second Evolution Outsiders counted as real enemies, and he planned to clear the field as soon as possible. It wasn’t going to be an easy fight, but with the help of the golems, he had some confidence.

The astral fire tore through the ranks like stars burning in the night, the intense energy hidden in the darkness of the void, but where it passed, the Sersans crumpled. The crescent moons struck next in a flight of shimmering blades that slashed through limbs and armor as they carved a line across the crater between the Red Sand Elementals and the Sersans.

Most of the damage was felt among the weaker Legionnaires and Enslavers, who lacked the defense to survive even a glancing blow, but pained roars exploded from the High Guards as well. Only the Priestlords were silent, their voices rising into a chant as a defensive green web of light spread around them. They’d been surprised, but the spell was swiftly stretching outward to the rest of the group, which meant time was limited.

Sam didn’t spare the charges in his bracers as he immediately launched a second wave, pouring out the power stored in the artifacts as quickly as he could. This assault was even larger than the first as a thousand points of astral fire descended at once like a meteor shower from the void, along with another wave of moonlight crescents. Altogether, the attack was equivalent to about fifteen of Sam’s spells at once, or perhaps a bit more.

In the resulting explosion, the green barrier of the Sersans shook and explosions tore through the field, but the defense wasn’t completely useless. Although the attack was twice as strong as the initial wave, it did half as much damage. The protective web shivered, tearing away from most of the group as it fell back to concentrate around the Priestlords.

One of the Priestlords staggered as he fell to his knees and then he roared as he forced himself back up. His expression was hard to read, but he looked enraged and humiliated. He might not have expected to be attacked the instant they arrived, but he was no stranger to combat. Even surprised, his reflexes were admirable.

As soon as he was standing again, the Priestlord immediately turned to one of the surviving Legionnaires next to him and his hand sizzled with green light as he drove it into the warrior’s chest and tore out his heart. As he held it up, it shriveled away to rust and metallic green dust, similar to the aura of the wasteland that had come from the relic.

The Priestlord’s energy returned as he leapt to his feet and reinforced the barrier with a wave of his staff. If anything, he felt stronger than before. Whatever sacrificial spell he’d just used, it apparently came with great power. Threat radiated from him as he glared upward at Sam, his teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

Next to him, the other Priestlord did the same a moment later, tearing the heart out of a nearby Enslaver who was already half-dead. He also looked up at Sam and snarled, a long grey tongue snaking out of his mouth as he hissed with venomous rage. His eyes were narrow and deadly.

The sacrifice was enough to allow them to withstand Sam’s attack, but barely. Even two Level 230 Outsider Priests with their own artifacts for support couldn’t defend against that full power strike so easily. When the echoes faded, the green web was in fragments with only a few wisps remaining and the crater was an even more blasted wasteland than it had been before.

Most of the lesser troops were dead. Only four Legionnaires and one Enslaver next to the Red Sand Elementals were still alive out of the weaker enemies, mostly because they hadn’t been the target. Five of the six High Guards had survived thanks to their proximity to the Priestlords, but most were injured in some way. Their heavy armor was little more than burnt and battered shells.

Before Sam’s hopes got too high, however, the two most injured of the High Guards knelt in front of the Priestlords and tore off their helmets. They raised their chins to bare their necks and an angry rasp came from their throats. Then they drew short daggers from their belts and cut their own throats. A fountain of green blood shot outward, soaking the clothing of the Priestlords and the other High Guards.

A low chant came from the Priestlords as they waved their hands and the blood dissolved. As it disappeared, the damage to the other High Guards and themselves healed. Wounds closed, burnt patches faded away, and limbs regrew. An instant later, the bodies of the two sacrifices crumbled to dust, followed immediately by their armor. It floated in the air as a grey whirlwind.

The dust swirled with a rusty light and then it shot toward the Priestlords and the remaining High Guards. This time, the holes in their armor and the Priestlords’ robes filled in as their equipment restored itself, even the luster of the enchantments returning. The green light glowing from the Priestlord’s staves increased in strength until it made the air shudder. These two sacrifices had been even more powerful than the last.

It made Sam’s eyes widen as he stared at the result. Whatever arts these Sersan had, they specialized in an extremely powerful form of sacrificial magic, one that was deeply woven through their culture. Perhaps that was what had killed their previous world. The Priestlords were far stronger than they’d been before, each of them probably a match for him in pure strength. With his bracers drained, that was going to be a problem.

He didn’t waste the time they were giving him, but his spells were slower now that he had to form them one by one. To keep the pressure on, he tore two scrolls out of his belt pouch and activated them with one hand as he inscribed runes in the air with the other.

The parchments dissolved into a storm of icy winds and ribbons of cutting hail as two massive Ice Storms formed. Each spinning tempest was forty feet wide as it descended on the Priestlords and nearly as powerful as an elemental storm. The winds were filled with shards of sharp ice and whipped around with enough force to shred flesh from bone.

The only problem was that as soon as he released them, he saw the High Guards springing into action, their armor shining as they channeled essence into a defensive ward. Behind them, the surviving Legionnaires and Enslaver were shouting as they tried to round up the elementals, shoving them toward the Priestlords.

If they were trying to do what he thought, there was no way he could let the Sersans sacrifice them. Not only did the elementals seem innocent, but he couldn’t allow the Priestlords to gain any more strength than they already had. He frowned as he considered his options and then he gathered the runes he’d just inscribed into a sphere as he spun in the air and dove toward the elementals. Behind him, the ice storms lashed at the Priestlords as he tried to keep them occupied.

Fortunately, he wasn’t alone. The Sky Guard had held back as he attacked the invaders, but now that the sky was clear, they launched forward. Their spears cut through the air with slashes of dark energy as seven of them headed for the group of High Guards and Priestlords, while the three that were the farthest away headed for the group of elementals.

They were approaching from the edge of the crater, but they arrived first. Seven black crystal blurs slammed into the first group while three more appeared like winged lightning between the elementals and the Legionnaires. The Enslaver turned as he drew the short sword at his belt and slashed out at the nearest Sky Guard, but the strike met a black tower shield that slammed it to the side. A spear drove through his stomach a moment later with an explosion that tore half of his body to pieces.

The remaining Legionnaires fared no better against the golems. They were only around Level 150 and the golems far outstripped them. They barely had time to draw their weapons before a black crystal wing sliced through the air and severed two of them into a rain of bloody grey and green chunks that went flying across the crater.

The final two Legionnaires last only a moment longer. The Sky Guard slammed their shields against them to knock them away from the elementals. Their wings flared out to create a protective screen and then bolts of black energy tore forward from their spear tips. When the bolts reached the Legionnaires, half of the Sersans’ bodies disintegrated and the remaining halves were hurled away.

The three Sky Guard pivoted in place. One turned inward to analyze the Red Sand Elementals for any possible threat, its spear and shield raised. The other two faced outward, ready to join the other battle or to guard if needed.

The seven Sky Guard that had attacked the other group were not faring as well. The Ice Storms had distracted the Sersans long enough for the golems to surround them, but the sacrifice of the High Guards had empowered the remaining three and the two Priestlords. They were holding their own.

The High Guards’ armor was shining with a brilliant green light as it blocked bolts of Void energy from the Sky Guards and their two-handed swords were clashing against the shields, spears, and wings that sliced in their direction. They were outnumbered and on the defensive, but they weren’t being overwhelmed quickly.

Despite that, it was the two Priestlords who were the real threat. Each of them was worth at least five of the High Guards. Their staves were as bright as emerald lightning as they lashed out with incredible speed, deflecting spears and wings. They were much faster than the High Guards and they were using their staves in one hand, but each of their blows was stronger than what their guards could do with their two-handed swords. Their free hands were clawing at the air as they shaped another spell and their voices were a booming hiss of a chant that crawled in the air.

The sacrificial magic had given them an incredible boost and he had no doubt that if it started to wane, they would kill the High Guards next to them to let it continue. He wasn’t sure what the limits were, but they hadn’t done that so far and he needed to make sure it didn’t happen.

With an instant command, he redirected one of the Sky Guards behind him to join the fight and then he took to the air, adding new runes to the sphere he still held in his hand. A moment later, he released it and it began to spin as flickering lightning and moonlight swirled around it. He left it floating by his shoulder as it gathered elemental energy to itself, and his hands turned to a different spell.

A Void Blade took shape as he compressed the air, crushing it between his talons into an arc, and runes for void, air, and cutting force merged into just after. He released it with a growl, targeting the Priestlord on the left. It might have been better to target the High Guards, since they were the sacrificial batteries, but if he could get rid of the Priestlords, it would be better.

The blade ripped through air with a subtle hiss of displaced wind as it struck toward the Sersan. At first, the Priestlord didn’t seem to notice the spell approaching from the rear, but then it hissed loudly as its chant suddenly got louder. It blocked a strike from a Sky Guard and pivoted in place with a liquid speed that made it seem like it was turning itself inside out. Its staff shot up with a flare of green light and collided with the Void Blade.

A chunk of the staff exploded, but the Void Blade also shattered, disappearing in the collision as its energies erupted outward in an unstable wave. With the distance he had from the Priestlords, their mana or essence field at the Second Evolution wasn’t close enough to affect him, but it did add to their defense.

The Priestlord looked up at Sam and hissed again as it bent inward and dodged a spear from a Sky Guard. Its eyes were furious, so bright that the emerald glow in them was bleeding outward like a rain of tears. Streaks of dark liquid ran from its fangs, leaving hissing burns across its chin. It dodged more stabs from the Sky Guards as it shaped a spell in its free hand and hurled it at Sam.

A wave of bizarre green light like a hallucination rippled through the air and slammed into him. He could feel it tugging at his mind as it tried to cover his eyes and senses. Half-formed images of torture, death, and wasted homelands flickered across his vision. Emerald tendrils tried to launch out from the spell and drive themselves into his spirit, to take root and invade his mind, but as they reached him, they found a barrier of shimmering crystal flame.

The spell smoked, its structure warping as Sam poured essence into his defense. Crystal flame roared out of him, clashing with the emerald light as it incinerated the tendrils and began to dissolve the structure.

It was some type of Wisdom-based attack, a Fear spell that would have incapacitated him. Fortunately, his defense against that type of thing was good. Wisdom was one of his lower attributes, but he had a number of Traits that shielded his mind, from the earliest Dauntless to Terror’s Bane and Battalion of One. All of them offered some form of mental resistance, and he took a moment to be grateful for that. Otherwise, that spell might have knocked him from the air.

That wasn’t all the Priestlord did, however, and it was fast enough to seize the advantage. Its green eyes were fixed on Sam as another spell flared from its hand and soared toward him.

This time, he didn’t wait around to see what it would do. Crystal Passage warped in a burning sphere as he vanished. He reappeared to the side, just beyond where the Priestlord had been looking, and as soon as he was there, he attacked.

He could have tried wide-spread spells, like Rain of Stars, but he had the feeling that targeted ones would work better. A shimmering green spear formed in his hand as he molded moonlight with crystal flame and imbued it with runes. A few moments later, it was ready, and a Spear of Silvas descended from the heavens.

This time, it wasn’t a Priestlord who blocked it. Instead, one of the High Guard leapt into the air, twisting his body as his sword came around in a sharp two-handed strike to intercept. A layer of green energy covered him, either a personal enchantment or some boost from the Priestlords.

Unfortunately for the High Guard, he wasn’t as good as he thought. He managed to get his sword into the path of the spear, but the reinforced moonlight tore through it and continued on, driving into his right shoulder below the joint. The spear dragged the High Guard with it as it slammed into the earth in the middle of the group.

An explosion tore outward, ripping apart the High Guard’s chest and arm as it sent the rest of him flying. The blast slammed into the other Outsiders, knocking them around with a hurricane force wind, but a shouted word from the second Priestlord sent a flare of green light across the area, rooting them all in place.

Now, only two High Guards and the Priestlords remained. It was harder than ever for them to block the golems’ attacks. The Priestlords stepped up their efforts, taking their place in the same line as the High Guards as they each did the work of an entire squad. They were moving even faster than before. The trail of dark liquid from their fangs was smoking violently as it left a burning trail along their chins.

It was at that point that one of the Priestlords apparently decided he’d had enough. He roared with a drumming boom as he reached into his robe and drew out an artifact. It resembled a twisted sphere of interlinked parts, each of them a different color or metal, and the core was a rust red.

He raised it into the air with a shout as green essence poured from him. The artifact hummed as the sections began to spin, each of them rotating in a different direction, and it began to float into the air. Crawling runes appeared along the surface, flashing outward with the same light, and then a sphere of intense emerald energy blasted outward, washing across the field.

The wave was so strong that it sent the Sky Guard tumbling dozens of feet away. Their wings flared as they caught themselves, but by the time they flew back, the Sersans were enclosed within a dense green shield. The golems’ spears slammed into it and were deflected, even as they brought them back to attack again.

Green runes crawled along the surface of the shield like fish in a hazy pool and it radiated a sense of old blood and death. Whatever had gone into the creation of that artifact, it had been a sacrifice of some type long ago.

The other Priestlord growled something angrily at the first one, as if he were unhappy with the choice. He looked over at the elementals and his snarl deepened, although it wasn’t clear if it was because he had a plan for them or that they were still alive. Perhaps he was checking to see if his outpost workers were still there.

Then he shifted his stance to attack again. His staff came up above his head as he ignored the golems that were attacking with increasing vigor and he took out a pale bronze dagger from his robe. Since the other one had begun to use their real resources, it looked like he planned to do the same.

On the other side of the crater, the two Sky Guards were still watching over the Red Sand Elementals, but so far they weren’t facing any trouble. The starved-looking beings only looked around as they pressed together in a clump, their streams of sand fusing together and then breaking apart again as they touched.

Still, Sam didn’t call those two over to join the fight. There was no telling what would happen with the elementals or if the Priestlords would somehow reach them, so he didn’t want to risk leaving them unguarded. The golems had an area enchantment that could prevent mana fields, and perhaps it would work against a long-distance sacrifice, if the Sersans had that sort of thing.

He still had about three quarters of his essence, but he reached into his storage and combusted one of First Evolution Epic aura for 150 points to refill it. His eyes narrowed as he analyzed the energy from the shield artifact, as well as what the Priestlords were doing. The one seemed focused on defense as he kept his attention on the shield, but the one with the dagger looked like trouble.

The Sky Guard had shifted their stance and their spears were now stabbing into the edge of the green shield and disintegrating chunks of it. The Void alignment of their energy was slowly chewing away at the artifact’s defenses. Despite that, the four Sersans looked as strong as ever, so there was no time to hesitate. He had to keep grinding them down before they used whatever else they’d brought along.

There were still a couple of spells he hadn’t tried, but first he needed to get through that shield. His eyes narrowed at the artifact in the Priestlord’s hand and then he began shaping a giant Aura Bolt between his hands. The effect against the sealed gateway here had breathed some inspiration into his view of the old spell and he had just the idea for what to do with it next.

Instead of throwing it immediately, he fused the energy of Shatter Aura into the bolt, letting the two mingle together until they reached an equilibrium, like an arrow carrying an enchantment. Then he concentrated the Aura Bolt even further, condensing it until it was almost like the Spear of Silvas. Three hundred points of essence poured into the spell. Aura Bolt required him to split his aura and mana, so he pushed the excess mana around the outside, letting it crackle across the surface with jagged edges.

A gleaming bolt of cerulean lightning took form in his hand like he’d reached into the heavens and seized it from a storm. He raised it high above his shoulder and then his body bent like a bow as he hurled it, driving it with all the power of his essence and his muscles.

The bolt split the sky with a thunderous crack as it struck the shield. When it hit, the coating of mana on the outside slammed into the shield first, sending a ripple through it, and then the core of aura that was infused with Shatter Aura slammed through the tunnel that the mana created.

The shield shattered around it, folding inward as the bolt drove home, although only in that one spot. As soon as the bolt was through, the shield began to fuse back together. The green runes crawling inside swarmed toward the opening. It was too late to stop the Aura Bolt, however, which continued toward the Outsiders below.

The Priestlord holding the shield artifact growled angrily as he saw the bolt descending. As it broke through the shield, he suddenly reached out and seized one of the High Guards, yanking him in front of himself as he darted backward. The High Guard seemed to be willing, since he only raised his sword and roared at the bolt, as if daring it to come.

The resulting explosion sent scorched chunks across the inside of the shield.

Unfortunately, while it was successful, the attack gave the other Priestlord a chance to retaliate. He raised the bronze dagger in his hand and sliced his own arm, something that hadn’t happened before, and he smeared the blood all across the dagger.

Green runes flared from the surface of the blade, which began to glow with a powerful light. At the same time, the Priestlord looked weaker, as if he’d lost some of the sacrificial energy that was empowering him. He raised the dagger in the air as he glared at Sam and then he threw it, his movement as fast as a striking snake.

The dagger cut through the shield with no opposition as it tore toward him, its speed so fast that the instant it left the Priestlord’s hand it was suddenly in front of him. He was still gathering himself from throwing the Aura Bolt, but it didn’t matter. The dagger was so quick that he didn’t have time to teleport out of the way.

It slammed into his abdomen on the left side with a crack like an axe striking wood. The blue defensive shield from the scroll shattered in front of it, only slowing it down slightly.

The force sent him spinning through the air, tumbling wildly, and at the same time he felt a presence trying to invade his meridians. The dagger felt ravenous, as hungry as a demonic serpent that wanted to swallow the world. Silver blood poured across his stomach from beneath the dagger’s hilt.

The dagger ripped at his energy, trying to devour it, and Sam groaned as a flood of foreign essence poured like acid through his meridians. His left hand fell on the hilt as he tried to tear it free, but it had sunk tendrils into his flesh and taken root. The world spiraled as he began to fall from the air, his control of the elements wobbling.

One of the Sky Guard swept low, grabbing him before he could strike the ground and setting him back on his feet. Sam pulled on its shoulder, forcing himself straight as he snarled. The dagger was trying to consume his energy and he didn’t know what the powerful enchantments on it were, but it was still an artifact.

His hands came together on the hilt as he let out a roar and focused Shatter Aura directly onto the blade, pouring essence upward from inside his body at the same time as he drove spikes of the ability into the hilt.

It was like striking a steel plate at first and the energy rebounded, shaking him as he turned to the side and coughed out a lungful of silver blood, but the echoes of the strike let him feel the shape of the enchantment inside the dagger. He growled as he forcefully gathered all of the rebounding essence, reshaped it, and slammed it into the dagger again, targeting the gaps he’d felt.

Strangely, it wasn’t just an enchantment. He could feel some type of spirit in the dagger that was utterly foreign to him. It was living in it like the dagger was its shell, and its aura was driving all of the power in the artifact. He would have expected rust and metal, but this presence was burning smoke and corrosion, like some diffused and ancient version of what the Priestlords used.

This time, his essence slipped through the gaps and slammed home into the open spaces in the enchantment. A wave of stabbing pain flared through him as the dagger struggled, trying to rip away his life, but it met a wall of crystal flame that forced it back. As soon as he had a grasp on the dagger’s internal energies, he twisted, driving Shatter Aura deep into the heart of the dagger.

The blade fractured with a resounding crack as it exploded, turning into smoking chunks of bronze, but it wasn’t without its last assault. Half of those chunks tore through Sam’s side and ripped chunks out of his abdomen. A few others struck his left arm and leg like molten arrows, tearing holes through them. Silver blood exploded outward in a rain that fell on the crater’s wasted ground.

The hilt came free in his right hand and he threw it to the side with a gasping groan as he activated a ring on his left hand. A monster core at the center of the ring exploded, turning into a wave of healing energy that surged through his body. It wasn’t enough to stop all of the bleeding, but it forced out the remaining energy from the dagger, which was a start.

He growled again as he pressed his right hand over the wound and activated a second ring directly into it, channeling the healing magic into where the dagger had been. At the same time, he glanced up, scanning the area, and then he sent a mental command to the Sky Guard to press the attack on the shield.

A wave of exhaustion hit him as he felt the effect of the wound, as well as a sense of vertigo, but he pushed it aside. Just to be safe, he activated his Purify ability to purge any magical or normal diseases, and then he grabbed another Healing scroll from his belt pouch, using it like a bandage as he slapped it onto the wound.

A moment later, he did the same for his left arm and leg, plastering them with a healing scroll. The magic in the scrolls wrapped around his body in a soothing blue light, but the effect was slow. The disadvantage of being nearly Level 200 was that healing took a lot longer than before. He was as hard to repair as he was to damage.

Fortunately, the scrolls he’d fashioned for this level took that into account. Unlike the earlier ones, they didn’t dissolve into mana dust. Instead, they covered the wound in a protective seal.

His essence was below half now, and he grabbed two more auras from his storage and combusted them as he looked up with a growl.

The two Priestlords were staring at him in shock, their eyes lingering for perhaps the first time on his height and his horns. A flash of delayed recognition went through the features of the one who had just attacked him, followed immediately by what looked like panic. He roared as he reached for his staff and raised it into the air.

Until now, the fight had been fairly straightforward except for the artifacts, but in that instant, Sam felt something shift. A vibration of aura rippled through the air as he saw the Priestlord’s skin begin to sag. He was visibly aging, his scales turning pale as he fed his life into a spell, and Sam swore as he kept his injured left hand pressed tight against the wound in his stomach.

The other Priestlord who was holding the artifact spun in shock, staring at his accomplice, and then he spun around to look up at Sam. His eyes widened as well, the green filling them until they were bright rectangles. He turned back to the other priest, hesitating even as he started to reach for something at his belt.

The aging Priestlord reached toward the two High Guards, who collapsed to their knees and ripped off their helmets as if they had no will of their own. Their chins tilted up as they bared their necks and ripped daggers from their belts, tearing open their own throats. Blood showered the priest in front of them.

The now-decrepit Priestlord continued chanting as he turned, bathing himself in the jets of blood that were spouting from the High Guards. As the blood landed on him, it disappeared, changing to a green energy that was far eerier than anything he’d used so far. This one felt alive, crawling across his body almost like the runes inside the shield, and much older. It radiated the decay of the grave, death past due that should have been long buried and gone, but it existed on the strength of those who still fed it.

Their sacrifice to something that shouldn’t exist.

The area in the shield began to glow with the same energy as fountains of what had to be death-aligned aura sprang up from the ground. Everywhere they touched, living things turned to powder and ash. The remains of the grass, the tiny blades that had struggled to survive here and that had been ripped up by the lightning, disintegrated into bone-white dust.

The Priestlord’s skin was an unhealthy, ashen grey now, his scales falling away as his bones protruded, but his aura continued to climb. The other Priestlord continued to hesitate, but in that moment the choice was taken from him. The half-dead Priest reached out with a hand that was nothing more than a skeletal claw and seized him by the neck, drawing him closer. Instead of killing him, he raised him in front of his face as he hissed a word.

It wasn’t in any language that Sam knew, but the meaning was unmistakable. It meant “Give.” The healthy Priestlord shuddered in his grip, but he reluctantly drew the dagger at his belt and brought it up to his neck. A moment later, he slashed his throat, dousing the skeletal one in his blood.

The skeletal Priestlord pulled him closer until he was pressed to his chest and drank the blood straight from his throat. The aura across the circle surged like oil had been poured on it, twisting and climbing up the Priestlord’s robes like living serpents of death. With the last sacrifice, his features began to recover as well.

His skin returned to a darker grey, a few new scales appeared to replace the ones that he’d lost, and some of his muscles and skin were restored, but it was only about half of what had been burned away. He still looked like he should be dead.

The green shield continued blocking the Sky Guard’s advance, empowered by the deaths inside the circle. Twisting currents of green light were pouring into its base and it was spinning faster than ever.

In that moment, it was easy to see what had happened to the Sersans’ world. Their control of one another and their greed for power had driven them to improve their sacrificial magics to an incredible level, but at some point in their history they had turned inward, perhaps feeding a spirit of death for power like the one this priest had summoned.

The influence of that corrosive existence had poisoned them and their world until their only fate was to act like locusts, devouring themselves and then going out in search of new sources to fuel their society.

The Priestlord looked at Sam with a snarl as he dropped the body of his compatriot. He was the only one standing amidst the ruin he had created and as he pointed his staff at Sam, the ground and air shook with the power it contained. Ribbons of death aura wrapped around his every movement, enfolding his half-dead body with a dangerous, eldritch light.

Sam was wounded, but his essence was still strong, and as he saw the Priestlord preparing, he didn’t hesitate to reach for the first thing he thought would help. Fortunately, the Sersan’s efforts took a little time, which gave him a chance to reach for something big.

“These are the Storm Plains,” he growled as he floated back up on a current of wind. The sphere of elemental power that he’d been infusing by his shoulder was still there and, as he reached a good height, he seized it with his injured left hand and added a new layer of runes. “You have twisted the lives of your allies into power, but here life and death are ruled by the elements, and the elements are my domain.”

He turned to the north, where the elemental storm was passing by. It had come a little closer, but on its own it would never reach the crater. It would fall a few miles short. He looked down at the little sphere in his hand, which was the strongest enchantment for elemental augmentation that he could create.

“They are also volatile.”

Then he threw it. His body bent into an arc as he hurled it toward the storm. A command to one of the Sky Guard sent a golem after it in a blur to make sure that it reached the target.

The sphere was launched, but he wasn’t done yet. Crystal flame poured out as he began to carve a spell circle in the air at his feet, runes forming almost instantly. Auras flickered from his storage as he infused one after the other into the enchantment, using their energy to speed up the process.

A few moments later, a circle twenty feet wide surrounded him. As he activated it, it began to spin, the runes for resonance, direction, and will at the center as he poured in more than 600 points of essence and reached out for the storm and the sphere to the north. That wasn’t enough to make the best connection, but blood was still running down his side and he infused a few drops of it with his purest astral energy and scattered it onto the runes. An instant later, the connection snapped into place.

The spell sphere broke into pieces, a hundred individual runes flying into the storm as it fed it. He could feel the thrumming power as it tore across the land, the wild mana surging like snapping dragons. The storm was a dangerous one. If it met travelers on the road, they would be wrapped in a flood of lightning strikes as soon as the clouds covered them, but the grasses on the plains sparkled instead, shining like golden waves.

The storm turned as it sensed the resonance of the spell circle now, surging toward the crater like it was drawn by a lightning rod. Winds howled as the clouds turned darker. But it wasn’t here yet.

Below Sam, the Priestlord finished his spell and the currents of green aura rose up like a sandworm trying to swallow the sky. The Sersan roared, his voice a dozen times louder than before, and the green shield fractured into pieces. The runes from it glowed as they fused into the death currents on the ground and then a massive tendril of green aura rose upward, twisting into an ugly spiral as it shot toward Sam.

It was as fast as a whip, and if it had hit him, it would have shattered him into pieces. It was at least at the lower end of the Third Evolution, but now that higher concepts had become involved, it was difficult to estimate.

Fortunately, Crystal Passage was prepared for that moment and as soon as the Priestlord released his spell, Sam disappeared. The spell circle stayed where it was, still spinning in the air, and as the Priestlord’s strike passed through it, the death energy touched the runes. The circle shivered like a man shaking with fever, shuddering as the runes began to twist. The sapphire energy was washed out by the green, all except for a fragment at the heart.

The spell circle shattered as the strike consumed it, wisps of energy cascading in every direction, and an expression of triumph appeared on the Priestlord’s features as he roared again, gleefully, as he looked at the spell circle and then toward Sam, who had just reappeared.

He was a thousand feet away now, closer to the approaching storm, and the leading edge was nearly there. At his command, the Sky Guards that had been assaulting the Outsider launched themselves into the sky, swiftly gaining altitude until they were beyond the reach of the clouds.

Sam’s expression was unchanged except for a slight narrowing of his eyes, but he raised his hand to point at the swirl of energy that was left behind by the spell circle. The remaining motes flared, twisting around in the air as the fragment of crystal flame in them drove them toward the Priestlord. A cloud of wispy energy fell toward him, bringing a heavy load of the death energy behind it.

The Priestlord stared at it, his expression puzzled, until it got closer. Then an expression of horror passed across his face as he looked between it and the storm that was approaching behind Sam. His aged body was too slow, however, and before he could move the wisps of energy swirled around his limbs and robe, imprinting him with the signature of the storm resonance.

The priest turned, waving his staff in a circle as he summoned another wave of death energy from the massive amount that was still around him, but the spell circle had been designed to attract the storm, and that was what it did. The Priestlord sent a wave of green energy upward, striking at the clouds that were descending, but it was like a serpent striking at an avalanche.

The storm was a towering mass a mile high and at least three miles wide, as dark as night and as bright as the sun as the lightning leapt from cloud to cloud. Strikes crawled along the ground, blasting into the grass with explosive force. Compared to them, the Priestlord was a tiny figure, the energy he’d summoned a fraction of a single cloud.

If he hadn’t attacked the spell circle, he might have been able to escape, but as he tried to run, the lightning strikes pivoted to follow him. He scrambled to grab the shielding artifact that was floating in the air and a hasty green shield formed above his head, but the lightning was already falling, crashing into the surface with an immense crack like a giant’s hammer smashing a mountainside.

Sam was also in the path of the storm, but he wasn’t concerned. He pulled out the Star of Life and held it above his head, even as lightning descended toward him as well. He could feel the hunger in the Star, and as the first lightning bolt approached him, it was pulled from its path and sucked into the gem.

The Star glimmered as a brief wash of heat and a sparkle of vitality flowed through. Its hunger surged, becoming a demanding cry for more like an infant tasting the first milk of its life. He held the Star higher as the storm descended with full force, not even bothering to protect himself from the lightning.

The Priestlord’s shield lasted for thirteen strikes, an impressive record, until a descending bolt that was larger than the others tore through the shattered remnants and struck the Sersan himself. The Outsider spasmed, his arms and staff flying wide as his mouth opened in a roar, but it wasn’t enough to kill him yet. In the space between that strike and the next, his shouts filled the air. They were still incomprehensible, but this time a wave of thought accompanied them, translating as they reached Sam’s ears.

“Lord Titan, please! I did not know! If the world is yours, I yield to you! Allow me to live as your servant! I will serve! I will sacrifice for you! The world will know your glory!”

Sam’s growl filled the air as he slashed his wounded left hand in front of him as if cutting the words to pieces. His right still held the Star above his head.

“Life and death here follow the laws of Aster Fall, not of sacrificial cults that have already destroyed one world.”

He looked to the storm, where the lightning continued to fall. It was partially connected to his will and in response to his anger, three enormous bolts blasted down toward the Priestlord. This time, he had no defense. His skeletal body spasmed as he was blown apart, his limbs flying in different directions.

The only thing left behind was a glowing mass of green energy where his heart should have been. It radiated the same sense of death and sacrifice as everything else the priest had done. A moment later, lightning found that as well. A massive blue bolt tore through it and purged it from the world.

All around, the lightning continued to rain down like drum beats on the plains as if an endless herd of horses were galloping past, their manes streaming in the wind. It roared and echoed, blasting through Sam’s ears and shaking his bones, but every bolt that came near him was sucked into the Star of Life.

The gemstone grew brighter with every bolt it consumed, but its hunger was also increasing. He’d thought that one storm might be enough to feed it, but after a few minutes passed and the Star was even hungrier than before, he had to revise his estimate.

The lightning storm passed over the crater in less than five minutes, and the feeling of devastation it left behind was otherworldly, but the damage to the plains was non-existent. These were the Storm Plains. As the storm moved away, the only sign of its passage was the crackling growth of golden sprouts springing from the wasted soil of the crater, the tender shoots reaching to the sky.

Whatever elemental imbalance had created this wasteland was already being corrected.

Sam floated there, his muscles cramped and exhausted, his left arm and side still dripping blood even beneath the bandages from the healing scrolls. The muscles in his right arm had grown stiff from holding the Star of Life above his head, and he brought it down with a groan as he went to tuck it back into his vest pocket. It looked like he would have to find it a few more storms and see if that was enough to sate it.

All across the crater, the new shoots of grass were continuing to grow upward. They were already an inch tall and a light fragrance of wild greenery and lightning wafted from them like incense. It was a marvel of elemental life that he’d never expected to see.

Of course, that was when the bellisagi arrived.

Nine of their assassins faded into existence at the edge of the crater, their lean, four-armed bodies grasping bone daggers and garrotes as they stood there and studied Sam. It was hard to read the expressions in their red eyes and skull-like features, but they almost looked astonished.

Nonetheless, they charged.