Grand Game 357: Blood Ritual (Patreon)

I managed all of two steps before a shockwave of air rippled outwards from the exile. Picking me up, it tossed me heedlessly into one of the white brick walls.

An unknown entity has trigger-cast repel the living.

You have failed a magical resistance check!

Your void armor has reduced the death damage incurred by 10%.

The exile turned around unhurriedly as I slid to the floor, and I caught my first glimpse of my foe. At some point, she must have been beautiful, but now her face bespoke only sternness and age—great age.

The exile’s skin was papery, the lines drawn on her cheeks were deeply etched, and a milky film covered eyes that were pale and pupil-less. Her lips drawn in a severe line; she raised an arm to point at me. Forcing myself into motion, I threw myself to the right.

Not a second too early, either.

You have evaded death’s finger.

Damn, why does she have to be a death spellcaster? I wondered as the white wall behind me dissolved into a puddle of decay and filth. Death magic was one of my bigger weaknesses. Rolling back to my feet, I resumed my interrupted spellcasting.

The exile watched me placidly, her expression unchanged. Moving with the same lack of speed she had earlier, she swung her arm back in my direction while renewed blackness gathered at the tip of her finger.

I didn’t wait to greet the spell. My own casting ready, I shadow blinked.

You have teleported into the shadow of an unknown entity.

I stepped out of the aether behind the ancient woman, and without hesitation, plunged both my blades into her back.

You have destroyed the flesh golem of an unknown entity.

The corpse slumped lifelessly. In shock, I stared at it. It was a real body, not an image, nor an illusion, yet obviously, it was not my foe.

“Who are you?”

My head whipped to the left to see the exile standing less than five yards away. She was the same, yet not. All signs of aging had fled. The person before me was young, beautiful, and in the prime of her womanhood.

But she was still very much my enemy.

Pivoting, I dashed straight at her, but before I could close the distance, black smoke spewed out of my foe’s mouth. Once more, I was forced to take evasive action. The dark cloud was too widespread to dodge entirely, though.

A noxious vapors spell has grazed you.

You have failed a magical resistance check! You are rotting (health decaying at 5% per second). Duration: 5 seconds.

I weaved past the trailing edge of the deadly smoke, then cut back to my foe, intent on resuming my assault. My foe was too powerful. I had to close the distance, and I had to disrupt her casting. Diving beneath the last of the vapors, I came up in front of the exile and thrust both my blades upwards.

You have destroyed the flesh golem of an unknown entity.

The second corpse collapsed as easily as the first. It had looked so much like a real human and had even spoken. Could a construct do that?

“Why are you here?”

Turning around slowly, I saw the exile standing uninjured ten yards away. Once more, I spotted no mindglow. If it was another flesh golem addressing me, that was because it had no mind, but if it was my real foe then that meant her consciousness was shielded.

Let’s find out which. Weaving psi, I thrust my will forward.

You have cast slaysight (shatter).

An unknown entity has failed a mental resistance check!

You have weakened your target’s mind shield. Remaining: 90%.

That answers that. My mouth set in a grim line, I drew more psi and dashed forward.

The young woman watched me impassively, neither the mental assault nor my renewed charge seeming to faze her. But when I got to within three yards, she waved her hand in dismissal.

An unknown entity has cast wraith winds.

Tiny slivers of spirit, like shards of glass, flew at me, battering my face, arms, and legs. Ducking my head to shield my eyes, I pressed on into the spirit storm.

You have failed a magical resistance check!

You have been pushed back 1 foot. You have been injured.

You have been pushed back 1 foot. You have been injured.

…

The winds birthed from the exile’s hands appeared unending, and for every foot I advanced, I was pushed back two, but my ineffective struggle against the casting was only a ploy to finish my own spell.

You have cast windborne.

I curved my windslide around and over the storm. Borne upon its currents, I shot forward to my target before she could redirect the winds my way again.

Launching off the ramp of air, I landed lightly behind the exile and lopped off her head with a single clean strike of ebonheart.

You have destroyed the flesh golem of an unknown entity.

I stared, confounded both by the Game alert and the fresh corpse at my feet. That it was a golem made no sense. The thing had had a mind, and I’d seen the spells it had woven. My foe had occupied it, I was sure of it, but she no longer did.

Is she somehow animating the golems from afar?

“Did Loskin send you?”

I turned, much slower this time, to face the exile again. Nothing I had done seemed to have troubled her. Her expression remained just as calm and her gaze unruffled. Even the killing spells she’d cast had been unleashed nonchalantly, like something one did every day.

I wasn’t sure about the wisdom of talking to such a dangerous foe, not when she had my companion at such a disadvantage, but I conceded—reluctantly—my current tactics were not working.

I had to come up with a better plan and find out where my foe truly was. Until then, talking would suffice to buy me some time. I rammed my blades in the sheathes. “Let her go.”

“Who?” was the mild reply.

I gestured at Ghost. “My companion.”

The young woman frowned. “She is not yours. She is a free spirit.”

I snarled, letting some of the wolf within me to the fore. “She is mine to protect. Stop this filthy ritual and let her go.”

The young woman’s eyes narrowed, and a moment later, I felt a telltale tickle ripple across me.

You have passed a mental resistance check! An unknown entity has failed to analyze you.

The exile’s mouth twisted. “You are a player,” she remarked dismissively. “That explains it. Now, begone. You will not have her.” Then, she turned her back on me and resumed chanting.

It was an amazing display, made all the more astonishing by the fact that I didn’t think it was act. The exile really did seem to consider me too insignificant to offer much threat.

For a moment, my anger churned, and I contemplated cutting her down from behind—but I doubted that would work any better than it had the first three times.

Still, if the exile was going to ignore me, I would do the same to her. My gaze drifted to my companion. Besides, she was not the main reason I’d come here. Ghost was. But first, I needed to find out what exactly I was dealing with. Reaching out with my will, I analyzed the woman.

The target is Adriel, a level 261 lich.

Your analyze attempt has been detected!

A sigh escaped the young woman. It was uttered so softly between chants I was sure she didn’t mean me to hear.

“You are a lich,” I accused, hands dropping back to my blades in preparation for a retaliatory attack.

But Adriel did not break off from her chanting. In fact, other than that quiet, almost involuntary sigh, my words drew no other response from her.

Things were beginning to make a weird sort of sense. The exile was a lich—just like the possessed’s ruler. It perhaps explained why the other possessed feared her as much as they did. But that realization did not concern me so much as knowing Ghost lay in the hands of one.

Lichs were rumored to hold vast sway over spirits and death, making Ghost particularly vulnerable to Adriel’s brand of magic. My concern for my companion mounting, I rushed across the chamber and knelt beside the blood circle holding her. As yet, I didn’t want to cross over in case doing so triggered something unpleasant.

“Ghost, can you hear me?”

There was no response.

“Ghost,” I called again, louder and more urgently. “Answer me, please.”

The chanting stopped.

Looking up, I found the young woman studying me quizzically. “What are you doing?” she asked slowly.

“Studying the circle,” I lied.

Adriel snorted. “Why did you call her that?”

“Who?” My gaze drifted to the still-unmoving spirit wolf. The exile had overhead my mental call—another unpleasant surprise—and for a moment, I considered not answering. But, so far, open antagonism had not worked. Perhaps a more reasoned appeal might. “You mean Ghost?”

“Yes, the spirit wolf,” Adriel replied testily. “But I told you she is a free spirit, not a ghost.”

“I know that!” I snapped back. “Ghost is her name.”

She blinked. “Her name? You know her?”

“I seem to recall having said that earlier,” I said evenly, managing to rein in my anger before I could blurt out an even harsher response.

“You claimed to be her owner,” Adriel corrected.

“No,” I refuted. “I claimed she was my companion.”

“To a player that is one and the same.”

I sighed. “I don’t know what you mean by that and I’m too tired to play games. Ghost is my companion, and I’m duty bound to protect her.”

Adriel fell silent for a moment. “Why did you attack me earlier?”

I shrugged. “Isn’t that obvious? You are a possessed. You are holding my companion prisoner, and by the looks of it, you are performing a ritual most vile.”

“Where did you hear that term?” Adriel asked sharply.

“What, possessed?” My lips turned down. “Let’s just say I had the displeasure of meeting some of your fellows.”

Adriel’s eyes darkened, and between one second and the next the tiny woman grew in stature until she seemed to loom over me. I had no trouble believing she was indeed a lich now. “Was it Loskin? Was he the one? Did he send you here?”

Unable to match stares with her, I looked down. “I don’t know who that is. It was Castor and Avery that I met.”

“Ah. Those two.”

“You know them, then.” Still, not looking up again at Adriel, I stretched out my hand towards the comatose wolf.

“Don’t.”

An inch from the blood circle, my hand froze.

“If your hand crosses the circle now, you will cause irreparable harm.”

I was not sure I believed Adriel, but I couldn’t risk that she was telling the truth and retracted my hand. I couldn’t just leave Ghost as she was in the hands of a lich, though. Focusing my thoughts, I yelled loudly, “GHOST.”

“She won’t hear you. She can’t. She is too far gone.”

Ignoring Adriel, I mustered every iota of command being an alpha granted me and infused it in my mindvoice. “GHOST, COME BACK.”

“You have a powerful voice, I grant you that,” Adriel said. “But it will not work. Her spirit has deteriorated too—”

Ghost stirred. “Prime…?” she gasped weakly. “Is that… you? How… d-did you find me? I thought—”

A force like a hammer struck me from the rear, and before I knew it, I was splayed across one of the chamber’s whitewashed walls—helpless to move.

Adriel stomped towards me, her eyes burning with a fury greater than I’d seen yet. “What did she call you?” the lich whispered in a tone that promised death.