(TLO) Chapter 167: Run (Patreon)

Seth turned in a chaos of carnage. He ducked a swipe from a massive spider limb and rolled to the side, covering himself in patches of red dust. When he came back up it was with crossed shortswords that took the blow of an enormous scorpion sting that was powerful enough to send him reeling back. As he did, Barnabas took his place, appearing out of nowhere to deflect the beast’s attack with a swinging sword.

The sound of his blade meeting its limb was muffled but Seth heard it clearly. When Jason followed after Barnabas, it was with a burst of wind gathered around his hand. He stopped in front of the beast and released the skill. The wind compressed into a dense ball and struck the giant scorpion in what Seth hoped was its eye and the creature reeled back.

They knew it wasn’t enough so Fin darted in with a powerful blow that shook the air as it connected with the creature. When the beast staggered, they knew it wasn’t from the force but the fact that it was off-balance. It would take more than a few strikes from an Iron and a bunch of silvers to truly harm a gold rank beast in a world crack.

Around them the other priests battled other creatures of varying species0

It had been a few days since their ambush at the hand of the government mages and since they’d last heard from or seen Reverend Triton. They’re anger against the government was middling, held only by Seth and his brothers, even then, Seth found it lacking in himself. Try as he may, he couldn’t shift his self guilt to anger for the government. He often wondered if things would’ve been different if he had left when Triton had asked it of him. His minds, much unlike himself, were certain none of it would’ve happened if Reverend Dozie hadn’t sent off a bunch of silvers to track down a beast never seen before inside a world crack.

[Quick Step] carried Seth forward at the behest of his minds and he escaped a blow from a new enemy. A gold rank monster was already more than enough of an opponent to face. Two was suicide. He was still wondering how he and his brothers were going to survive this when Timi rammed into the new enemy. A force to reckon with, his brother forced the massive beast off the ground and threw it aside. There was a rage in him as he stood, heaving with a surge of violence.

He turned blackened eyes on Seth and when he was certain his brother was unharmed, he went after the beast with a great sword and a guttural roared that pierced the cacophous madness of the chaotic fight ensuing around them.

Seth’s minds didn’t give him leave to regale himself with the chaos that was his brother. Our enemy isn’t dead yet, they told him.

With a fatigued mind, he turned and joined his other brothers in the subjugation of a single gold rank as others took one or two at a time. Their weakness in the presence of the priests and Timi was too glaring.

For the past two days they had continued in this way. They would fight hordes of beasts from random fissures that appeared as if in ambush. When they cleared them, their numbers constantly dwindling, they would move on to the next horde. Rest was only permitted to them for enough time to catch their breaths and regain some vestige of their reia. Only enough to survive another fight.

This was their life. And there was no doubt it would continue to be for a foreseeable future.

When the giant scorpion they faced finally heaved its last breath, Seth knew his cassock would need a lot more stitches than the one he’d already given it. His minds continued to believe the seminary would give him a new pair once they returned from the crack but he was their constant reminder that they had to return alive first.

They were resting in the dying night now, scraping together what was left of their motivation.

“There’s no time for rest,” Dozie said as he passed sitting priests, making his way to Reverend Gregory. “We’ve found where our brother is being held and we have plans of having him back.” He turned his eyes on Seth and his brothers where they were grumbling as they rose from their seated position.

He didn’t approach them, but when he spoke they knew he addressed them. “One of our scouts has found Reverend Triton. Apparently, our long thought dead brother has been at the mercy of the government for the past few days, and it is our duty to change that. Don’t you agree?”

There was a chorus of affirmation while Seth and his brothers held their silence. It could’ve been interpreted to mean anything but Dozie interpreted it as equally enthusiastic affirmation.

“That said,” he continued, “it is my honor to announce the existence of a plan. One that employs the aid of myself, three of our brothers, and our upcoming priests who Reverend Triton had all but sacrificed himself to ensure they survived and the seminary continued to have a future with powerful priests.”

Aother chorus of affirmation rend the air but it wasn’t as enthusiastic as the one before. Seth didn’t need to be a psychologist to know some of the priests held them accountable for Triton’s situation. It was not enough to abandon them to their fate in the heat of battle but it was enough to employ silence towards them.

It was a few hours into a new day when Dozie summoned them again through another priest of gold authority. The red sky of the cracked world was still as dark as night, and while Seth knew he’d heard this priest’s name before, he couldn’t bring himself to remember it. When his minds chose to do so for him, he silenced them with a snarl, like a maddened beast.

He was tired and confused and angry and disgusted. He’d thought he was weak during his pastoral year. He’d thought he was weak when he’d returned and found his brothers silver. He’d thought he was weak when he’d lost a sparring match against Forlorn. It was laughable now. He hadn’t been weak then. Weakness was an embarrassing mother flirting shamelessly with countless men who gave her no respect in the presence of her child. Weakness was surviving as an Iron within a world crack.

The priest led them between laying priests. They were supposed to be asleep, but considering how easily a fissure could appear amongst them, Seth doubted this was the case.

So Reverend Dozie’s messanger walked through the spread bodies of debatably sleeping priests and they followed in quiet reluctance. Barnabas let out a single mumble of discomfort and it was the only sound of their disagreement to cross any of their lips for the length of the journey.

When they were done meandering their way through the priests, they walked a single stretch of uneven ground. It was a proof of their closeness to the mountain ranges of this barren land. Again, Seth was reminded of the luscious green that was the lie of the world crack. It would’ve been a better terrain to fight upon. These lands, after all, gave no comfort of cover or place to hide. Luckily, the deeper they went into the crack, the closer they got to the mountains. His hope was that they would end up there, fighting amongst the possible covers of boulders and rocks.

Eventually, the priest brought them to a mountain. Like the one they’d ventured to in the name of tracking new beasts, they were led around it and into a crevice in its side. There they found Reverend Dozie seated on the ground. He was flanked on both sides by two priests who remained on their feet.

On their arrival he turned a half smile to them.

“Alas!” he announced dramatically. “My chaotic children arrive.”

Seth and his brothers weren’t certain how to feel about his feigned enthusiasm. They weren’t sure if he did it for himself or if he mocked them. If he was trying to motivate them for what was to come or delude himself of the task before them. Seth found himself praying it was the former rather than the latter.

The next half hour was spent going over a plan that required no true brain power to understand. Dozie’s plan of rescue could be best described in a single word: simple. But it wasn’t the simplicity that belied a grace and cunning. It was the simplicity of a simpleton. It was the simplicity that got people killed. Or, if it were to be thought of from a different angle, it was the simplicity of the powerful.

They would charge in and face their enemies. Then they would take their priest.

So while he plotted directions and patterns and angles that had no bearing on the battle, Seth’s minds studied the priests that stood with them.

Their countenance, schooled as they were, showed doubt. They didn’t like the plan anymore than Seth and his brothers. But silence and agreements were the only responses those beneath showed a Baron. Disagreement was death.

“So,” Dozie said, raising his head form the plan he’d drawn in sand. “Any questions?”

Everyone was silent. Only difficult plans required questions and this wasn’t a difficult plan. If anything, they should be questioning the confidence of the government as well as the Reverend himself.

According to what he’d told them, Triton was being kept in an encampment cut off from the rest of the government forces. It boasted a force of six gold authority mages, twelve silver and, apparently, one Baron. As far as Seth’s minds could fathom, it was a glaring trap. They wanted the seminary to come for their priest.

Seth raised his hand.

“Yes, Al Jabari,” Dozie said.

“I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

“When do we leave?”

His brothers turned to him with a touch of confusion. He understood it. He sounded in too much of a hurry, but the truth was he wanted to get it over with. The sooner they could get Triton back, the sooner they could return their focus to beasts instead of humans. From all he’d learnt, they were easier opponents.

Dozie afforded him an impish grin. “Before first light.”

…………………………………………………..

Another Silver mage went down with a silent thud. It was the fourth sentry so far. Of all four of them, they had succumbed the death at the impact of Jason’s skill [Wind Burst].

To Seth, they were advancing too quickly. Too easily. Four Silvers had found death within the space of twenty minutes and no alarm had been raised, no panic descended on the government camp. It felt as though someone wanted them here.

“I don’t like this, Dozie,” one of the priests whose name Seth didn’t know said, echoing his thoughts.

Dozie’s response was a simple shrug as he strolled casually beside them, his footsteps mute against the ground. All the while, Jason took aim again and brought down the fifth Silver mage. The power of each shot was deadly, but so was his precision. Each one took its target in the head. As simple and questionable as their advance was proving, Seth still wished he was the one bringing down each mage.

With his rifle it would’ve been an easy feat. Unfortunately, when he’d brough the idea of taking his rifle to provide support, Dozie had deemed it a wasted of precious manasteel bullets which were already hard enough to make.

So he snuck around with mages more superior to him in silence.

Whatever the encampment truly was, it was situated next to one of the mountains, and they had to go around red boulders and climb uneven terrains to get to it. The sentries had been positioned great distances from each other, Silver mages standing watch for enemies in protection of a camp that served as a prison to a gold priest. Each minute detail screamed unreasonable. It was a blatant trap with a creator who had put no thought into its concoction.

It was a lazy trap. Still, they continued to walk right into it.

They came around the corner of the mountain, following the information Dozie had given them from the reports of his scouts and found nothing.

“Are we sure this is the right place?” a priest asked as they ventured cautiously into the empty space.

“Certain,” Dozie answered, unbothered.

Then he disappeared from Seth’s senses, gone as if teleported. When he reappeared, it was behind Seth and with a wave of his hand. A sound erupted like the shattering of glass where he stood and the ground to his side erupted in a large hole.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit too much to kill a Silver,” Dozie said to nobody.

Seth’s minds were still reeling from what had happened when the person Dozie addressed stepped out into the open. When he did, he wasn’t alone.

“Silver?” a tall man who wore a casual shirt and simple trouser asked. He stood with a hand in his pocket and one rubbing his jaw. His complexion was fair and his hair, a light brown, looked stained in blood yet wasn’t matted to his scalp. Seth suspected it was somehow an effect of the red sky.

His casualness in the presence of a Baron marked him of the same authority.

Behind him, more mages stepped out as if out of nothingness. It reminded Seth of the priests when Gregory had led them out of the seminary, how they’d stepped out from the distorted world of dense reia.

“He doesn’t look very Silvery to me,” the man continued in the casual nonchalance of a Baron. “If anything, he looks… less?”

“Less?” Dozie scoffed. “You certainly have a way with jokes.”

“Or do you expect me to believe he’s Silver?” the government officials hand that was rubbing his chin paused, his expression turning thoughtful as his mages continued to surround them, their numbers growing beyond the initially estimated report. “Or maybe,” he mused, “it’s a skill… No… I doubt there exists an illusory skill capable of masking one’s reia when its not a shrowd. Or is he a hybrid?” He frowned at his own words, then became serious. “There are rumors that the seminary has been experimenting on children. Trying to create a mage capable of increasing their authority at will, if only for a short time. Is that what he is? An abomination?”

“And if it is?” Dozie smirked, ignoring those that surrounded them. “What are you going to do about it?”

“More reason why he has to die now.”

All the while, Seth stared in confusion. How had he suddenly become the target of a Baron? He didn’t even know the man. There were golds and silvers here. There was even a freaking Baron. Why would another Baron have a vendetta against him? And what was Dozie saying? Why was he encouraging the man’s delirium? In what world was the seminary creating such things? And in what existence was he one of them? It was almost as if Dozie was trying to get him…

… killed? One of his minds finished for him.

He gritted his teeth in realization.

Even now, confined to the horrors of a world crack, the seminary continued to intentionall make his life difficult. Even so far out of the seminary, so far out of Monsignor Faust’s authority, they continued to punish him. Even here, where he had no reach, where he…

“Fuck,” Seth swore under his breath and his minds chuckled at his next realization.

Jabari was a powerful priest. What implied he wasn’t capable of stepping into a world crack whenever he chose? What implied he couldn’t find him and increase the difficulty of his life at will?

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” he hissed.

His brothers looked at him in surprise even as Dozie continued his conversation.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked, unsheathing his sword, eyes watchful on those that surrounded them, confined them to a circle of silver and gold mages.

Seth shook his head, uncertain of if he needed to apologize to his brothers this time. If this was really one of Jabari’s schemes, then it meant Dozie was well aware of it. It made sense. It explained the simplicity of the plan. It explained his lack of worry when they’d arrived and found things nowhere near what had been expected. His authority as a Baron could explain it just as well, but in the presence of another Baron and outnumbered by Silvers and Golds it was becoming apparent: He’d known of this.

He’d known they’d run into this ambush. And his constant goading, his constant insinuation that something was special about Seth brought attention to him.

“Why me?” he complained. “Haven’t I been through enough?”

“Pull yourself together, brother,” Forlorn commanded. “They’ll have to go through all of us if they want to get to you.”

Seth scoffed mentally, and so did his minds.

As much as he appreciated his brother’s words, there was only so much his brothers could do. There were too many silvers for them to make any real impact. Survival wasn’t beyond them, not necessarily. However, there would be a cost. And at Iron, there was no doubt the cost would weigh heavily on him.

“I’ve made up my mind.” The government Baron raised his hand and the air pooled to his open palm. It gathered like a growing whirlwind if it gathered horizontally. When it was done, he had a featureless lance of air so strong everyone could see it. And he hadn’t even said a word.

This was silent activation. The realm of Barons.

“The boy dies here,” he said, closing his hand around the lance. “Then you’ll be next.”

Dozie looked at him as if listening to the ramblings of a fool. “Do you genuinely believe you’re good enough to uphold that threat.”

“Continue to…”

Dozie and the man disappeared so suddenly that the rest of his sentence was left to trail off into the echoes of his absence.

Left alone without a Baron, a promise of unbridled violence filled the air and the golds became the next power.

Skill activations rang through the air so numerous Seth couldn’t keep track of them. The one that stood out, however, came from their group.

[World Shield].

The command came from one of the priests and a dome of green-blue reia surrounded them. The skills cast struck the dome, shaking the air, booming in the rondo of enimity as explosions echoed in one terrifying symphony.

“We’ll take the golds,” one of the priests told them as the one that activated the skill buckled under the weight of the collective attacks. “You guys take the rest. We don’t expect everyone to make it but try and be the ones that do.”

Seth was already growing angry. He knew Jabari wasn’t after his life but every priest that had played a part in making it difficult had done it with some level of sense. Dozie, however, had just walked him into an unreasonable ambush, risking all of his brothers in the process.

“This makes no sense,” another priest said, annoyed. “Why would he walk us into this? It was clearly a trap. Dozie’s not one to do something this stupid.”

“Does it matter?!” the one who’d given the instructions snapped. “We’re here and we have to survive. And we’ve been through worse. Remember?”

There was nothing assuring about panicking golds.

“Trevor,” the instructor said, turning back to the priest that suffered the attacks. “How much longer can you hold out?”

Trevor frowned and fell to his knee. “Not much, Horace.”

Horace turned to the other priest. “Counter strike,” he said.

“Here?” the priest asked, confused. “In this situation? You think we can pull it off?”

“It’s better than being dead.”

The priest frowned but heaved a deep preparatory breath. When he let it out his whole body trembled. “Alright. I’m ready.”

Horace turned to Seth and his brothers once more. “We’ll draw their attention. Then we’ll leave the Silver to you.”

Beside Horace, the other priest continued to heave and tremble.

“Trevor,” Horace said. There was a touch of preparation in his voice and Trevor was more than happy to release his skill.

As the dome shattered, Horace turned to Seth and his brothers with a single word.

“Run.”

The dome came down and the other priest bellowed, “[Mind Rage]”

Seth and his brothers didn’t see the effect as they sprinted away from the priests. But the sounds that erupted behind them promised it was nothing good.

Seth’s minds, however, fell to silence in awe of whatever it was they were seeing as he and his brothers fled.