Chapter 41 The Rescue (Patreon)

Chapter 41

The Rescue

Rescue crews tried and failed multiple times to make it through the dense layers of miasma that clung to the ground around Lykan. In the end there was only one bastion of freedom from the cursed cloud of dense fog. A small radius around the spirit sword and Lykan began to appear, showing the outlines of a dead dragon carcass, followed by Lykan and his blade that was clearly stuck into a decapitated dragon’s skull.

The scene was quite gruesome for most to observe. Even the rescue crews didn’t want to repel down into the thick miasma. A few of the students wished to go down to rescue their classmate, the same one who had risked his own life to save their own not moments ago. This of course caused more arguments to break out. The rescue crew were the trained professionals, and these kids were little more than an impediment.

“No. You cannot go down. Until we get clear winds no one can go down.” Senior officer Micklav said.

“Sir. We can’t just leave him down there. You yourself said it was dangerous.” Kalana who almost never spoke to anyone spoke out now.

“Enough. We can’t risk corruption. Besides it seems that the boy is immune to the effects in some way.” Micklav said, as the whole group looked down through the giant glass flooring of the observation deck which gave a clear view of the ground below.

Then, after a few moments Lykan’s body began to glow golden.

With a gasp everyone watched as he rose to his feet. Then looking around he found his sword and pulled it free of the decapitated dragon skull with one quick tug. After which point, he assumed a sword stance, though it was one that he had never used before.

All the students watched on in shock, as many had spent hours watching him train in some way or another and this was definitely not a form he ever used before.

Then they saw why.

Lykan had his sword out fully extended in his right hand, his left hand up curled over his head to provide balance while his feet mirrored the position of his arms. Right foot out, left foot slightly back. Then Lykan did the unthinkable. He began twirling his sword blade.

As he did the sword began to glow brightly. The more the green gem at the pommel of the sword glowed the more the twirling motion of the blade began to generate air currents. Currents that began to twist and spin air around him. Slowly he and the sword created a vortex of air that began condensing all the dark miasma into a single solid clump of black energy that floated at the exact center of the vortex. Once one arc around him was cleared he began turning around slowly, gathering more and more of the thick clouds into his spinning vortex.

Everyone was in awe, as to how he was able to direct the dense killing clouds away from the ground and towards one seemingly demonic ball of energy. Even from hundreds of meters up people could feel the dark presence of power contained within that sphere.

Lykan spent the majority of his time cleansing the dragon corpse. The head surprisingly seemed to have already been cleared of the miasma, at least that is what the quick turn in that direction showed. Then soon even the body was completely cleaned of the tainted energy.

With the entire area cleared, Lykan maneuvered the stone until it was a few feet away from everything. Just a shinning black ball the size of a human head in the middle of a field. Seeing the ball on the ground Lykan let out a long breath. It was easy to forget how vulnerable he was at times. His body had been through a lot, and while he had shown no signs of fatigue while cleansing the air of the dense miasma, the strains of the day were clearly taking their toll on his body.

Looking at his sword he shook his head, then began to rise up.

“Is he just going to leave it there?” Hanna asked no one in particular.

“I don’t know what he can do with it.” Javison admitted.

“He should at least bury it.” Illana said.

“And ruin the entire echo system of the region?” Kalana asked indignantly. Of all the races the wood elves were the ones most aware of the delicate balance that nature and earth played with the world. The slightest change could mean the death of an entire region. And Kalana was certain that something that powerful would be able to influence multiple regions of the world simultaneously, especially if it was to be buried under the ground.

Lykan rose up a few dozen meters, then with deft hands he sheathed his blade and pulled his bow.

The bow had seen better days. Blood splatter had found parts of dragon’s bone and worn away at the frame. Fortunately, the fame held, and Lykan was able to notch an arrow and aim it at the black sphere.

Tink.

The arrow landed perfectly, a bullseye on the sphere, but nothing happened to sphere. Lykan took out another arrow and still the same result.

Tink.

Shaking his head, he once again placed his mighty war bow over his shoulder and pulled forth his spirit blade, a legendary weapon that was made famous by high wood elven warriors who brought peace to the lands before the fall of the great forest spirit.

Holding the blade in both hands, he watched the blade closely. Some of the students could swear that he was talking to the blade.

“Is he talking to it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why would he talk to it?”

The students all spoke, but Telka tuned them all out as she watched.

Badump.

Telka felt her heartbeat, as she realized what he was doing.

“No.” Telka spoke, watching on in horror.

Lykan grabbed the sword fully extended down towards the ground. Then just as he had done previously in his battle against the great corrupted dragon, Lykan charged forward blade fully extended.

As he began to dive, the blade began to glow. Soon it was a golden flame, that plummeted towards the black ball of rot.

BOOM!

The two forces collided. An unstoppable force met an immovable object.

The result was a burst of magic.

Even from up high the students could hear the sounds of glass cracking and shattering.

Waves of energy erupted upwards.

SWOOSH!

The energy was so intense that it pushed the airship up a few dozen meters before stopping. Then they waited. They all waited as a dense cloud of dirt and dust swirled around.

Finally at the very center stood a boy, over a broken empty sphere, with broken pieces of a shattered sword laying on the ground.

“What?”

“It broke a spirit blade?”

“Was it even a true spirit blade?”

“Of course it was a true spirit blade.” Kalana chided the others.

Telka felt herself nodding along in agreement. That had been a true spirit blade, everyone who saw the blade realized what it was from the myths and legends that survived the fall.

Lykan looked shocked for a second, staring down at the broken blade in his hands. The emerald-green soul crystal was shattered, the blade was left in broken fragments on the ground. He had sacrificed much for this one strike, even now he could feel part of his soul missing. The part that he had imbued of himself into the sword was now and forever missing. He was unaware if that piece of his soul could grow back, but that didn’t matter. Not at this exact moment.

For the time being Lykan had won, the corruption that had filled the land was gone. While it was gone, it left him with an open void within his soul. Something that made him feel suddenly hollow and vulnerable. Still he managed to do what he intended.

Just as he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he was greeted with a message.

Soul Damage Acquired. You have managed to damage your soul, while it might have been for a good cause your body is damaged you suffer a penalty. All attributes decreased by seven points.

Seeing the message, he smirked to himself. The irony of life.

Kill a corrupted dragon and survive only to damage part of your soul. You get nothing. Lykan thought to himself.

Then he looked down at the broken blade that was in his hands and a sigh escaped his lips. No, he had lost more than nothing. He had lost two attributes, and worst of all he lost his third arm, an extension of his very being. He no longer had his spirit sword.

Lykan grabbed all the pieces of the broken sword and the now empty sphere. Looking around for something to hold them in, he soon found the remains of his shirt that he had torn off to avoid getting burned by the corrupted blood.

Seeing the cloth, he went over and began using the remains of the cloth to hold the different pieces. He had just managed to put everything into the scraps of his shirt when the rescue and salvage teams began to show up.

One of the first to arrive was the liaison who told him not to draw his sword.

The liaison opened his mouth as if to say something, but then seeing the look on Lykan’s face thought better of it and began directing the salvage efforts. Finally, he shook his head and said four words, these were not the four words that Lykan had been expecting to hear.

“Put a shirt on.” Liaison Milnern said as he turned his attention towards the salvage operation.

Lykan only chuckled.

A few medics came and checked out Lykan, quickly checked his burn marks on his skin that were even now little more than dark bruises. Then in short order he was being taken back to the compound where he was given a change of clothes before he was asked to retell everything that happened.