Chapter 227 - An Old Man’s Wish (Patreon)

- Two weeks previous -

The battle for Morothin

A hundred Graymin Rooks released mana-charged projectiles in unison. Rings of pressure detonated around each rook, sending lesser pawns and knights hurtling away in pieces. The missiles tore through the air at a speed beyond their tiers, visually rippling the fabric of reality as they sought fresh victims amongst the few Imperials hovering above the horde. 

Lenton raised one hand, a casual mixture of Channeling and Forming materializing a shield of impenetrable rock. Crashing impacts filled the rankers’ ears as the missiles were intercepted. A wave of his other hand conjured a raging inferno that descended to wipe out the crawling vermin: it was but a momentary end to the pesky rooks. They would soon return and in ever-greater numbers.

Until the emperors stopped the Graymin King from spawning the horde, the rankers fought on, holding off the mightiest of its ilk. The beasts on the ground that lacked the ability to fly were merely a distraction. The true threats littered the sky; bishops, tier eight and above, were steadily attracted to the constant struggle for survival.

Lenton ignored the tier nine bishops to focus on the tier eights with the rest of the ‘regular’ rankers. They left the stronger foes to Pierro the Bulwark of Tantoural—one of the three tier tens in the empire besides Lostrifar Astrideus and Sagrinar of Mist's Edge. Elemental blasts were released all around him by allies he’d known long enough to boggle the regular mind. They attacked the unending beasts with everything from knives that released beams of energy, to giant hammers that crushed plated skulls with explosive force. Aspects, aura, and even skills were reserved for the most dire moments, their drain on the spirit too great for the attrition they faced.

Lenton paused, examining where he was needed most in the frenetic melee. Seeing the empire’s best giving their all caused a sly grin to pull at his lips. It was beyond a rare opportunity to fully gauge their strengths. Now that he could, he knew that other than the three tier tens, none could match his mastery over mana or the elements. The fact a large part of his recent success was due to a certain wayward pupil wiped the grin from his face.

Not seeing anything that needed his immediate attention, Lenton checked on Lostrifar and Sagrinar. They were a relatively short distance away, performing one miracle after another as they fought off each tier ten Graymin that showed up to the battle. Their fights shouldn't have been close, let alone a one-sided slaughter. Beasts regularly displayed attributes fifty percent greater than humans of equal tier. At tier ten, that was a difference of several hundred thousand, which usually gave the Graymin a ridiculous advantage in speed and power. He had no idea how Lostrifar and Sagrinar were pulling off what historically required a full party, but so long as they did, there was hope.

Lenton’s brows rose as Sagrinar was gutted from behind… again; the third strongest ranker killed in an instant by a Teleporting tier ten bishop. He sighed wistfully when Lostrifar casually revived the man while simultaneously unleashing a burst of her empowered aspect at the bishop. It froze, seeming to deflate in size and power. She followed up with a blast of elemental energy that eradicated the monster, then continued on to erase a distant mountain from existence.

Lenton tore his gaze from the expanding blastwave, tracking the millions of beasts that steadily flowed from the north, creating sinuous rivers of armored flesh snaking through the mountain passes. Each river began at the same point, the base of a colossal creature that dwarfed any mountain: The Graymin King.

The battle between it and the emperors was in full swing a mere two hundred kilometers distant. A ferocious impact from their struggle sent a wave of force outward that knocked every last Graymin from their feet. Lenton Teleported in front of the rankers and raised his arms, reinforcing his aura with additional mana but was still sent hurtling through the air. He forced his aura to split like the tentacles of some disgusting sea creature. They stretched beyond his typical range, latching onto the quaking air and arresting his momentum.

Several nearby tier eight Graymin fared far worse, their lacking auric control was showcased as they tumbled chaotically toward the distant ground. Lenton didn't allow the opportunity to slip away; from several points across his body, Channeling created a dozen filaments of searing wires that raced out to wrap around their necks, the force of their own heavy bodies in freefall did the work of decapitating the lot of them.

His long-time allies and colleagues cheered, taking the momentary reprieve to boost morale, and he certainly didn't begrudge them with how long they'd been fighting without rest. Suddenly, a colossal wave of fire swept toward their group from the south. Pierro Teleported to intercept it. The tier ten’s aspect expanded, forming a massive kite shield that blocked a majority of the surprise attack. Despite his near-instant reaction, two tier sevens on the fringes of their group were caught and incinerated, adding yet more blood to the already unacceptable death toll.

Lenton as well was outside of Pierro’s protective shield. Luckily, his Aspect of Balance was already charged. It slowed the encroaching fire to that of a swift gust of wind, demanding that all things within its reach fall into balance. A second wall of flames approached the group and Lenton Teleported to Pierro’s side, prepared to assist against their unknown assailants. Manasight revealed three of them through the obscuring blast, and based on the rhythm of their breathing, they were tier nine, the same as him. He didn't recognize their mana signatures, but the glowing symbol carved into the backs of their hands marked them as assassins of the Church of the Voice.

He could only imagine the risks the Voicers took to ascend three tier nines in secret, and worse still, two more were harassing the distracted Lostrifar and Sagrinar from long distance by repeatedly Teleporting explosive talismans—single-use, paper-thin formations. Lenton pooled more mana into his aspect, prepared to take himself out of the fight if it meant stopping these interlopers. None who would stab their own kind in the back at their moment of greatest weakness could be allowed to survive.

He was interrupted when Lostrifar’s petite form appeared at his side. She held Sagrinar by the nape of his neck, the man dangled there, looking almost bored, completely accepting his current place in the world. The assassins Teleported away after throwing several more of their talismans. Sagrinar’s mouth opened wide and a wave of misty aspect raced outward to protectively surround the rankers in an instant. When the talismans touched the mist, they were shifted to its far side where they harmlessly detonated away from the group in raging waves of fire that fled to the north.

Lenton turned to look, only for his blood to run cold as the powerful fires were completely overshadowed by an unfathomable wave of energy. It stretched east and west, wide enough that he couldn’t find its ends. It was taller than the clouds and breached far into the ground, instantly annihilating everything it touched. Worse still, it was heading toward them at a speed no tier nine could outrun.

There were only three of them that stood a chance to escape, and not one of them did. They bravely interposed themselves between sure death and their lower-tier charges. Watching the backs of the empire's legendary figures wasn’t something Lenton had ever been comfortable with, and this time was certainly no different. He had just enough time to move beside them before the wave hit.

Lostrifar, Sagrinar, and Pierro screamed their dying fury as they unleashed elemental attacks that none save the emperors could match. The wave mercilessly snuffed out their efforts in an instant, swallowing their elements up like drops of rain in an ocean storm. 

Lenton’s perception of time bloated, an instant morphing into a miniature eternity. In that surreal moment, he realized they were doomed. So he did the only thing he could think of, he broke the first and most vital rule in the book he himself had written on harnessing the powers of an aspect: he shunted every last scrap of mana in his manapool into his tap and converted it. His aspect erupted in potency and size but he reigned it in with the will of a dying man until it enveloped only his allies. 

Blood gushed from his nose and ears. His body tore itself apart as he was subjected to the very balance that he demanded be imposed upon reality. For if all things found true balance, then he too would become no more than the wind rustling his hair.

The wave of energy washed over them, yet the portion that impacted his bubble of aspect slowed to a crawl as it came into balance with the lack of movement inside. On every other side, the wall of instant death swept by unobstructed. In a flash, the empire's finest found themselves submerged in an unending ocean of pure violence, the only thing between them and it, an old man’s dying wish to see them live long enough to say goodbye. Mareesh was at his side, bless her soul. Her healing energy coursed through him in a vain attempt to unwind the damage he had already done, the damage he was still doing.

Sagrinar’s hands glowed and shook as he harnessed reckless quantities of elemental energy that charged to ever-greater heights. A grin stretched his cheeks as he stared death in the eyes for the millionth time, “Anyone planning to give up?” His tone was light and playful, yet it roused a raging desire within Lenton’s heart, and he wasn’t alone.

Lostrifar was Channeling her powers into a dozen formations that hovered before her. They focused her energies, releasing a continual barrage of radiance at the slowed wall in front of them. She didn’t bother looking back, her childlike voice holding a promise of vengeance, “Anyone gives up, and I'll kill them myself.”

Pierro was by her side, “Always so diplomatic. I really should have taken lessons from you when I had the chance.” His Aspect of Eventuality created its signature shield, supporting Lenton’s Balance. Together, the four of them bought enough time for the others to throw their all toward the slim hope of salvation.

Lostrifar's lips drew back in a snarl, “Diplomacy? First lesson, know when to shut up!” A roar of unbridled fury escaped her small chest, crashing ineffectually against the storm bearing down on them. She spun around faster than Lenton could track, and without warning, her hand was around his throat. Instead of choking the last bit of life from him, a flood of unaspected mana raced through her glove and into his channels. The thought of saving himself with it didn’t even occur to him. 

He converted the energy to more aspect, further eroding his body’s ability to cope, but it didn't matter, his Balance was the only thing that had proved truly effective so far. If he could hold out long enough, the blastwave to their sides would pass by, allowing them to simply fly left or right and survive unscathed.

Except it was impossible to continually convert mana to an aspect without limit. The spirit simply couldn't handle the strain. Not to mention his late start in ascending, leaving his body well past its prime for an endless eternity. His sight began to fade, and the last thing he saw before the world turned dark was Mareesh smiling her soft and encouraging smile as she poured her regenerating energies into him. He felt her mana still, even though he couldn't see. His aspect raged within and without as it brought balance to his body, attempting to turn him into an entity without organs or thoughts, just a single, perfectly balanced slab of flesh.

His last thoughts were of the precious children fighting just a few hundred Kilometers to the south, risking their ridiculously young lives to protect their home. He hoped that his efforts would save a few of them, too. 

Then, he knew only darkness.

***

Lenton woke with a gasp, sitting up to a world cast in darkness. Comforting hands supported his shoulder and back while a silencing, “shhh,” sounded in his ears. Mareesh leaned in and whispered, despite both their auras automatically blocking sound, “We are not safe, the assassins have hounded us for days and after the… king’s attack, our mana has yet to recover.”

“Assassins?” Lenton croaked, his throat dry and his body on fire from head to toe.

Mareesh tilted back his head and poured cool liquid into his mouth, “That’s right, the ones from the church that ambushed us. They have a seemingly limitless supply of their nasty talismans. They aren’t willing to engage us straight on, instead ambushing us whenever they sense a vulnerability. Four have died.”

Lenton frowned, his manapool too drained to create a simple light to banish the thick darkness that obscured even Manasight, “Where are we? How did we survive?”

“You held off the blastwave long enough for Sagrinar to shift us out. We decided to stick together and search for the emperors. We are deep in Graymin territory.”

“The Emperors? Have we found them?” Lenton’s question went unanswered long enough that the answer was apparent.