Path of Stars, Ch 29: Bloodsigil Outpost (Patreon)

When Sam reappeared from the astral thread, he was standing near the edge of the outpost, a mile above one of the stone spheres on its outer ring. From here, it loomed like a mountain in front of him and he could see more of the details of its construction. The stone was molded into ridges that rose and fell, but they were irregular, almost like the teeth of a key. Waves of faint essence flowed between the ridges, channeled in some strange manner by the construction.

The fortress looked like it had been grown here, probably under some type of stone manipulation art, but it was a complex project, not something that could have been designed in a day. It was clearly new, but at the same time, it gave off a sense of age, as if the fortress was something that came from an older era. It left him with an unsettling feeling.

As soon as he appeared, however, the fortress reacted to his presence. The essence patterns began to glow more brightly as red energy gathered in them. Then a strange phantom formed, rising up from the surface. Its head resembled a vulture with a heavy ridge stretching from its forehead back along its spine and its body was a skeleton of yellow bones that glowed with a dark energy.

In moments, it was fully present and a storm of essence and Wind elemental energy rushed upward from the fortress, fusing into it. Its wings stretched outward, crackling with dull yellow lightning that covered them like skin. It tilted back its ugly head, letting out a sharp caw that tore at the air, and then it launched itself toward him.

It was clearly a spell construct rather than a living thing, but he’d never seen anything quite like it before. It had a heavy signature of both elemental energy and essence, but also some form of self-awareness. It flew toward him in a bolt of lightning, covering the mile distance in an instant.

Sam frowned at it, but there was no trace of fear in his eyes. The aura of the thing was barely at Level 250, or perhaps even a bit lower, and he could feel the simplicity in its construction. The spear in his hand lashed out as it approached him, stabbing through its heart and disrupting the spells that formed it.

The vulture exploded into pieces as a wave of uncontrolled wind and lightning blew outward. Standing where it had been, Sam studied the result, tracing the flow of energy in it as he looked at the fortress it had come from.

A moment later, another yellow vulture began to form, rising up from the same location. Behind it, another one was forming a hundred feet away, and another one past that. They were springing up like a field of yellow mushrooms from the surface of the fortress and within a minute there were dozens of them nearby.

Apparently, it was some type of point blank defensive spell. Unless he broke the enchantment that made them or it ran out of energy, the vultures would keep coming. But that wasn’t going to be enough to stop him. He waved his hand as he released the five golems from his cloak.

Instantly, Silverbeak and the other two eagle golems flew up into the air, hovering a hundred feet above his head. Their wings flashed with crystalline light along the rune patterns there. Beside him, the two defensive armor golems radiated a sense of durability as they slammed their shields down in front of them and held their spears at the ready.

“Destroy anything that comes close,” he ordered them. A wave of acknowledgement came back from the golems as they began to scan the area around him.

A moment later, Silverbeak dove through the air, its wings shimmering with icy crystals as it sliced straight through the vulture in an explosion of wind. Stray sparks of lightning bounced off its feathers. An instant later, the other two eagles dove down and tore a path through another pair of vultures.

Their wings flashed with ice crystals as they circled and returned. Then they tore outward again, strafing along the surface of the fortress. A hail of icy blades flew from their wings, striking with shattering force as they disrupted the structure of some more vultures.

When he saw that, Sam nodded. The golems should be enough to deal with the vultures and similar things. Whoever had designed the fortresses, the defense seemed intended to face an army of weak enemies. It was the two fangs on the opposite side that were the real threat. Even now, the fortress was beginning to rotate as it tried to bring them toward him.

Sam flew downward, scanning through the fortress with Astral Focus as he swept past the structure. His range wasn’t good enough to get all of it in an instant, but he could see the inside of the strands of webbing and the spheres when he was close enough. After a moment, a dark expression swept over his face as he frowned.

The fortress had finally managed to rotate enough to bring the fangs around and a web of orange-red light built around them. Here, at point blank range, the intensity of the enchantment was far stronger than it had been the last time. The space around the fortress shuddered as dark ripples covered the area, compressing toward the fangs.

When the energy passed by the surface of the fortress, however, it glided off without sinking in. The rippled surface was reflecting and channeling it. Whoever was inside would be protected.

Space was crushing in around him, but the pressure was weaker than the winds of the Chaos Wild. It blew past Sam’s body with a roar that barely rippled his cloak. His arms flexed as he stared down at the surface of a sphere beneath his feet and raised his spear.

Runes to intensify astral energy and the unique presence of Shatter Aura flowed into the spear again, sharpening it as it began to burn with a brilliant golden light. The power of the strike rose to its peak, crossing over the barrier into the Fourth Evolution. The Void trembled around the tip of the spear, which radiated streams of golden light. Without hesitating, he drove it down with all his strength.

The side of the stone sphere tore open in a giant gash that was three hundred feet long. The edges boiled, disintegrating in the wash of astral energy. The fortress’s enchantments crumbled as the ridges disappeared and a sixth of the fortress turned dark on that edge. On the far side, the fangs shuddered, their energy fluctuating wildly as they tried to draw more essence and failed.

Sam’s appearance flickered as a wave of silver flame washed over him and the golems around him, and then he was gone. When he reappeared, he was inside the stone sphere. All around him, the space looked like a large cave with several tunnels extending off to the sides. The only difference was that the tunnels were on the ceiling as well as the walls. The floor was the far side, on the outer edge of the sphere.

In terms of furnishings, there was almost nothing. Only a few ridges of stone that might have been seats decorated the inside of the sphere. Across the walls, there was a pattern of light red runes glowing with a wavering fluctuation of power, alternately weak and strong. They were strange and angular, almost like teeth marks, but something in the pattern reminded him of the ridges on the outside of the fortress.

Even as he began to look around, the floor around him rippled as lumps of stone began to rise up from it. Instead of vultures, these looked like stone wolves. They glowed with a similar light to the runes on the walls. Seeing that, he ignored the constructs as he looked around, but it only confirmed what he’d sensed.

This part of the fortress was empty. All around him, the eagles hurtled toward the stone wolves and the armor golems stepped forward, their shields swinging down with an earthshaking boom to crush skulls and necks.

Outside the sphere, he could sense the built-up energy of the fangs, but as he’d expected, they didn’t fire on him. Either the controller was unwilling to damage the fortress, or the enchantment on them wouldn’t allow it. With that in mind, his eyes swept across the exits from the room and then he flashed forward, teleporting down one to the farthest distance he could reach. The golems disappeared along with him.

This sphere was empty, but it didn’t mean they all were.

When he reappeared again, he was at the edge of the next sphere. This time, the roars of enemies resounded in his ears. From the quick scan he’d done outside, most of them should be gathered here. A wave of silver flames flooded the tunnel around him as he examined the area inside.

There were three dozen Outsiders scattered throughout the room, most of them standing or sitting on various stone protrusions. Light red runes covered the walls and energy pulsed through them similar to the energy on the fangs outside. In an instant, he analyzed every enemy in the room.

The group was mixed, with several races combined. There were a handful of the Bloodstone Giants that he’d seen before and a dozen bone-armored creatures with four legs and scythes for arms, but the majority of them were from some race that analyzed as Bloodsigil Warriors, as well as other variants with different classes.

Bloodsigil Flame Magus. Outsider. Level 234.

Bloodsigil Inscriptionist. Outsider. Level 276.

Bloodsigil Mistwalker. Outsider. Level 256.

The Bloodsigils were in the majority and most of them were casters. This fortress was probably their work. There were only a few melee classes here and there, including the Bloodstone Giants. Most of the Outsiders were in the 200s, but there were six that were over Level 300 and two of those that were in the upper range at 372 and 381. A quick scan pinpointed the strongest ones.

Bloodsigil Spaceweaver. Outsider. Level 367.

Bloodsigil Runemaster. Outsider. Level 372.

Bloodsigil Ragelord. Outsider. Level 381.

Those three looked like they were in charge. As soon as he appeared, they began to shout as they ordered their minions to attack. The two mages were surrounded by a cascade of spell forms that crackled in the air around them and the Ragelord charged toward him.

If it had been before his Second Star, it would have been difficult to deal with them. Now, however, things were different. He had several ways to deal with them, from his bracers and cloak to directly fighting, but since he wasn’t sure how long this battle would go on, he chose the most conservative. His movements were like lightning as he activated two of the scrolls in his aura.

The first scroll disintegrated into a cloud of flashing stellar ice. It spiraled like a miniature hurricane as it shot forward across the room. A thousand blue shards spun in every direction, their edges keen with a thin layer of essence. Explosions of blood and bone erupted throughout the sphere from the weaker Outsiders, followed by an expanding layer of ice that shrouded everything in stillness.

One scroll wasn’t enough to kill all the Outsiders in the room, but the ice storm was widespread and the Level 200 ones were eliminated in an instant, from the various casters to the Bloodstone Giants, which were torn apart by the icy winds. Only the six Level 300s were left behind.

Even they suffered for a moment as their movements were chained and their bodies were unresponsive under the layer of ice. Wounds decorated them here and there, but most of the injuries weren’t severe. That changed as the second scroll flared to life.

The first one was widespread, but this one was targeted. Three shining ice spears appeared by Sam’s shoulder, each of them a dozen feet long and six inches wide. Their shafts were covered in brilliant, humming runes and their tips were pure sapphire crystal, translucent and shining.

With his gesture, each of them targeted one of the Level 320-330 casters in front of him. The spears split the air as they shot forward. A moment later, the spears tore through their chests and nailed them to the far wall.

Then only the three strongest Bloodsigils were left alive. Their assault had been interrupted by his scrolls, but the Ragelord broke free from the ice covering him just then as he charged forward. A massive axe appeared in his hand with a long handle and a curved, half-moon blade. It had a glossy yellow-white appearance and was crafted from some type of bone. A series of teeth were implanted along the back side, as well as a prominent and vicious spike.

Behind the Ragelord, the Spaceweaver was surrounded by a dark ripple of distortions in the air that had protected him from the spells, but he was swiftly recovering. Ribbons of the same light were rising up from his hands and his body began to fade away, turning ethereal as he swept across the floor toward Sam.

At the same time, the Runemaster was roaring as he raised a staff in one hand. It was carved with deeply-etched red runes along its length and the entire artifact shuddered like it was alive. Jagged red chains with spikes along their length formed in the air, each of them a hundred feet long. They clanked with sharp explosions of energy that released a bloody light as they writhed like living things. As soon as they were formed, they shot toward Sam.

Unfortunately for the three Outsiders, in the time it took them to recover, Sam reached ahead with a single hand. His eyes were pools of silver flames as he ignored all of the attacks heading his way. Everything within the room seemed to slow down at that instant, like it was moving through frozen space. Only his golden hand was moving at a normal speed. His talons stretched out, covering the space in the room as he reached to the far side.

If he’d been standing in front of the Ragelord, his hand would have been about as tall as the Outsider, but in that moment it seemed far larger. The size of the Outsiders and the space seemed to shrink while his hand stayed the same. In an instant, his hand stretched across the sphere and tore through the far wall, and then down the hallway toward the next sphere that was a mile or more away.

The two fangs on the outside of the fortress were mounted on the outside of the next sphere and as the walls began to crumble, they became visible, glowing with a deadly red light against the darkness and the stars outside. Then his hand tore through that sphere as well, until he was grasping the Void on the far side.

His talons closed around the space in front of him, closing on the two fangs and the far sphere. Then his hand closed. Silver light poured in through the now open space, flooding toward him from the nearby stars, and dark ripples sprang into existence along the length of the path where his hand stretched. The Void trembled as his hand faded away into a mirage of stardust.

The Outsiders and their attacks in front of him disintegrated into motes of shuddering black dust and red light, followed by sections of the two massive spheres, the corridor connecting them, and the fangs outside the fortress. Everything shattered into fragments that continued to break apart under the force of the spatial distortion.

Nearly half of his essence pool disappeared at the same time, but he didn’t stop there. He gathered the essence and experience around him as he turned toward one of the remaining spheres and disappeared in a wave of silver flame.

The fortress was broken in half now, but he wasn’t going to leave the job half done. He had no intention of leaving enemies behind. When he reappeared, it was at the edge of another sphere. A golden spear ripped open another enormous gash before he stepped inside.

A few minutes later, another Astral Rift tore through the Void as two more spheres shattered into fragments. Sam stepped out of the rubble as he pulled auras from his storage and began to combust them. Each Heroic aura was worth 750 essence, and in short order, he replenished his essence pool.

The last sphere in the fortress was empty, so he only ripped it open with his spear and shattered the runes inside. Then he stepped back out into Void, standing on top of the broken remnants of the fortress as silver flames surged around him, outlining a towering figure in the Void. Chunks of stone were slowly tearing away from the edges of the fortress, disintegrating into the chaos winds and the open majesty of the Void.

He turned toward the second fortress, the one over Alora’s homeworld, and his eyes burned more brightly as silver flames gathered around him. Then he leapt away, heading directly for it. The golden spear in his hand shone brightly, like the ray of a sun.

*****

Far away on the Ice Drake, one of the new naga captains felt his heart shake as he watched his Oathlord shatter the defenses of his enemies and stand proud among the ruins. The figure of a gigantic golden titan was burned into his mind with silver flames as he strode toward the green world on the horizon. In his wake, only shattered stone and starlight were left behind.

All around him, the other Silver Nagas were staring as well, their eyes aflame with pride.

One of the greatest dreams of their people had come to life before them, and in this first battle of their Oathbound Clan, he had crushed all who opposed him.

“This is the way of the Great Coiling Serpents,” Ajoa hissed with overflowing passion as he watched. “We must follow him.”

“No,” Sleset hissed companionably from beside him, where he was also watching. His words were a surprise that made all of the nagas turn their heads toward him, their expressions confused. He slashed his hand through the air with a commanding force as he redirected their attention to Sam, who was even now approaching the second fortress. “This is the way of the Astral Titan, our Starborn Lord. His enemies have dared to come into his home and build nests in his domain. They have not asked permission, they have not brought gifts to soothe his wrath, they have only harmed his people.”

All around him, the other nagas hissed fiercely in agreement as a new way of looking at the world raced through their minds like fire. They turned their attention back to Sam, watching him approach the fortress as they gripped their weapons more tightly. Their hearts thundered in their chests.

“This is the domain of the Starborn Lord,” they hissed in agreement, each of them speaking one by one as their voices blended together into a ferocious chorus. “Enemies will learn to fear his wrath.”

Then they looked at each other, their savage grins growing wider as their hisses filled the deck and flooded the Void around them with delight. Their weapons rose into the air as their tails thumped on the wooden boards, driving a pounding rhythm that promised war and power. They looked at the silver crowns on the heads of their brothers and sisters, and their hisses grew even louder and sharper.

“And they will fear his Silver Army.”