From atop Mount Inuvik, Uki jumped in surprise as Cho suddenly shot towards the Academy like an arrow released from a bow. With its multiple runes the bird was easily spottable against the night, but no one was in any position to stop it from flying into the center of campus and towards the Smoke Hall.

The knot in Uki’s stomach grew. She already hated to see all the lives being lost in this battle – even if they won, the cost was going to be great. But Cho’s sudden flight indicated Levin had run into trouble. Even if he persevered it would mean more lives lost, more blood on Uki’s hands for ordering this reckless assault.

Uki looked over the battlefield once more. She had no more pre-planned moves now that the archers were scattered around the mountain, just this one strategy to decide it all. Now, the only piece of her plan left was for Levin to spring his trap.

Once she might have been able to influence this battle with her ability, but her accumulated power had been spent on Levin’s rescue. All she had left was the small amount of Force her own Soul generated, but she wouldn’t even be able to overpower the mind of an acolyte with that. It would only be useful for bolstering her allies.

There was no more point staying up here. Uki squeezed her legs together, urging her horse into motion. Together, they set off down the mountain.

***

Levin glared at Pilip from across the central rune array, a multi-colored embroidery sewn into the very rock itself, stretching on for over a dozen meters in all directions with the density of a textbook. The array crackled and flashed with surging power as it distributed energy and shields to all the mages of Inuvik fighting on the mountain, empowering their magic and protecting them from danger.

Force drawn from the acolytes flowed through here, but the majority of the power being sent out came from the Smoke-tier inks powering the runes, ink stockpiled over decades of concern about Silla’s power. The Mage Hunters possessed only a fraction of the magical energies it contained, and they had to disrupt it.

But Levin could not complete the plan with Pilip standing across from him, blocking the only exit while Levin himself stood at the rear of the chamber, back to the wall. He had tried to dash out right after noticing Pilip, but the runesmith’s artifacts had rebuffed him, firing with an overwhelming barrage that even a Wave of Chaos was unable to pierce through fully. And what a set of artifacts they were, already activated, each one blazing with its own power that yearned to be channeled.

The first he noticed was an ebony staff in Pilip’s hand criss-crossed up and down by a vibrant orange that stood out on the black wood. Levin’s eyes were next drawn to Pilip’s face where a half mask covered his left eye, a carved piece of wood in the waving outline of a flame, alight with a brilliant orange. Beneath, a multi-layered necklace inset with gemstones of varying types, colors, and sizes shined atop the relatively plain robes of Inuvik Academy. He wore large pearl bracelets on each wrist, each bead bearing its own rune, and they clinked softly as he moved.

Pilip also wore a tall and bulky set of wedge sandals that gave him a few more inches of height. Levin was disappointed to see runes engraved even upon those, thinking rune-shoes had been his own idea. The last artifact he noticed was an orb dangling from each of Pilip’s ears, almost hidden beneath the harsh glow of all the other runic artifacts combined, but with their own ink nonetheless.

“The light is obscuring the shape of the runes,” Levin thought with a frown. If only he’d gotten a proper look at Pilip when he was hiding in the shadows, before the runes had activated, his Y-Link might have been able to decipher their exact power and purpose; instead he’d have to figure out what they do the hard way. There probably wouldn’t be time for that.

Pilip strode out onto the rune array, uncaring of the ink beneath his feet – it would take much more raw power than Pilip and Levin combined, Chaos excluded, were capable of mustering to damage an array like this. Levin tensed; these were poor odds for a fight.

“Do you have any idea what sort of trouble you’ve caused for me?” Pilip said, almost growling as he spoke in a low voice.

Levin didn’t respond. He needed to get his ink down now – he knew their numbers outside were already dwindling, their magic going even quicker. Their preparations for this assault were only enough for a short burst, just a brief moment of distraction, which was all Levin should have needed. But it was also all they had. Soon, the hasty preparations of the Mage Hunters would be exhausted, and the slaughter of his allies would begin in earnest.

“Because of you, they think I’m a traitor!” Pilip said, raising his voice as his cheeks flushed with anger.

But Levin’s own strength was waning fast, and he had no means to kill Pilip at this moment. His Chaos magic would be effective, as long as it didn’t kill Levin in the process. But without something like Field to deliver a tremendous dosage of Chaos, it would only be truly good for disrupting Pilip’s artifacts. In order to fight Levin needed Cho, but he had wasted precious moments keeping the bird away to watch everything unfold.

“Now they’ll know that it wasn’t me at all,” he said with a cruel smile, pulling a hand out of his pocket.

Holding up a transmission tablet.

“Wait, Master Pilip!” Levin exclaimed, eyes going wide. He absolutely couldn’t let more mages come.

And thankfully, Pilip paused, eyeing Levin suspiciously. The rune on the transmission tablet remained dim. But in his panic, Levin could remember only the self-promise he made on the eve of this attack to save Pilip if he could.

“If you join me, the Mage Hunters will spare your life! You could become the top runesmith in Trurok!”

“How dare you, boy!” Pilip shouted, face growing red. “Do you even know what you offer? What the end of Inuvik Academy would mean for me!?”

Levin cringed back.

“I would never advance as a mage again! If warriors come to rule Trurok, it means the end of my path! And if I can’t make it to the mid stage of Wisp rank, I’ll die in a couple more decades. Your promise is nothing more than a guarantee of my death!”

“Everyone dies eventually!” Levin shouted.

Pilip erupted in a bout of furious anger. “The logic of a mortal, not a mage! You expect me to simply accept my death?”

Levin shuddered as Pilip fixed a glare on him, finding no more words as he retreated further into the central rune array’s chamber. It brought back memories of that first day, standing before the warrior Tulimak, begging him to show mercy. Back then, Levin had despised his own weakness, despised that his choices had gotten Andrew killed. But there was nothing he could do to change the past.

“Now the entire Academy will descend on you, Levin. It’s hopeless. Even if you wipe out our array with your chaos, you will still die tonight.”

The transmission tablet in Pilip’s fingers lit up, and then he tucked it back into his robes. Levin felt helpless, sitting there, waiting for Cho, knowing the others outside were all dying, but he knew it was too risky to fight without the robotic assistance. His skin felt clammy as sweat ran in thick beads all down his body, as his mind wandered next to the worst night of his life. He had felt just like this back then, when he watched Kirima’s life fade away in his arms.

He had sworn never again would he let someone down like that. But now, he was letting them all down by the hundreds, sitting in this cave while men and women braver than him put their lives on the line. And yet, he kept waiting. And as he did, Levin’s anger began to build.

Pilip stepped forward.

“You would have killed me,” Levin hissed.

“This is your fault! You fooled me, hiding your magic to sneak into the Academy, to destroy us all from within and pin it on me. If you had truly been without magic, I would have succeeded. But now they think I have failed, again!” Pilip said, temper flaring.

Levin’s face darkened. “I truly thought I had a chance to be special. But I’m the fool, for trusting a mage.”

“You care more about your own reputation than you do the lives of other people,” he spat back.

Pilip just laughed in response, a mixture of pure rage combined with genuine amusement at Levin’s accusation. Of course I do, it said. I’m a mage.

“I hate this man,” Levin thought, his own anger rising to drive away the fatigue and exhaustion. If he were to die tonight, he was going to take Pilip with him.

This situation reminded Levin of his past failures, but this time was different. It wasn’t that same weak-minded Levin that stood before Pilip on this night.

“You made a mistake,” Levin said, quietly, but Pilip immediately hushed. “You gave me strength!”

Cho burst into the room, smoothed steel body reflecting the bouncing light of the rune array underfoot. Yet, overpowering that was a vibrant green runic aura that clashed with the harsh orange of Pilip’s runic artifacts. But even despite the light, the furthest reaches of this massive cavern were still hidden in shadow just as they had been when Levin had first intruded.

A control rune lit up on Levin’s upper arm, a tiny candle next to a roaring campfire. And the next moment, every shadow vanished, banished by a divine, overwhelming power erupting from Cho. A thunderpeal rang out as the rune on its back flared to life, flowing lighting encasing Cho like a cage formed to its body, extending its form and nearly doubling Cho’s wing span.

Peak Wisp rank rune, Messenger of Lightning. Cho surged towards Pilip, and a visible shudder ran through the man. All his artifacts became trained on Cho, and he unleashed a converging swarm of fire magic against the bird.

Levin’s fear, doubt, and hesitation were gone. All of his pieces were now assembled. He had told himself that this time, he was ready. And now he would prove it.

Levin raised a hand towards Pilip. Wave had caused him to stumble from the internal damage that Chaos dealt, so what would this do? Levin considered it, but it didn’t slow his actions.

“Bolt!”

A massive surge of Chaos energy burst from Levin’s fingertips, ripping and damaging his body as it poured out. But the damage done to Levin was a fraction of the destructive power in his newest Chaos spell – it took the shape of a ball, crimson and flecked with black, and held its shape as it hurtled towards Pilip across the distance.

Pilip cursed as he saw the magic, trying to move out of the way even as Cho hampered him, shrugging off the initial barrage of magic. But Bolt was large, fast, and ranged – everything Levin had needed against Amaq. It ripped through Pilip’s upper body, passing through him and slamming into the stone wall behind a moment later.

Pilip gasped as his tiered necklace shattered into pieces, the twin earrings crumbled to dust, and the runes on the wooden mask winked out of existence. Pilip stumbled backwards, only his staff, bracelets, and shoes left unaffected. Cho’s power broke through his dispersed Force the next moment, blasts of lighting cascading out and tossing Pilip across the room.

Levin crashed down onto the ground at the same moment as Pilip.

He coughed blood onto the cold stone, his body trembling violently as he struggled to support his weight even on all fours. Levin’s vision swam, and he could barely see Pilip rising to his feet on the far side of the rune array – through his own eyes, at least. It was more instinctual than conscious as he pushed Cho to attack through his Y-Link, the lightning still surging with plentiful power fueled by the most valuable of Lethridge’s resources.

"I shouldn't have done that," Levin thought, struggling to move his body. "I've used too much Chaos."

On shaking arms and legs, he began to crawl, inching over to a spot he could see just ahead of him. When Levin had been trapped inside, he hadn't fled at random -- his plan only needed one modification, in one spot, and he was so close. The engraving tool in his pocket was already filled with ink, and a control rune decorated Levin's hand. There was just one thing more he needed to do.

Explosions rang out as Cho and Pilip clashed, Pilip unleashing every scrap of his power to fend off the bird. Even though he was an early-stage Wisp rank, Pilip’s rune reserves ran deep, and he managed to stay alive against the overwhelming Messenger of Lightning. But he couldn’t focus on anything else.

So Levin, arriving at a small open space in the array, pulled out his engraving tool, desperately trying to hold it steady as he visualized what he would need to do with his Y-Link. The additional guidance helped him stay precise as he lay there on his belly, taking deep breaths and holding his right wrist with his left hand to stabilize himself.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Then he set to work, careful to avoid any contact with the central rune array until his own construction was ready. The stone gave way easily, leaving behind a simmering ink with a dark sheen, bubbling gently as it surged through the intricate runic pathways. There was little space available in this spot, but Levin had planned for that in his design, writing tight, dense lines – pouring his whole focus into this single task, forcing his body to perform even as it gave out, even at the cost of care for Cho. He had to trust the lightning rune would hold.

Nothing existed for Levin except runes and ink. Yes, his design was theoretical. He had hidden that fact from Uki and the others, insisting with complete confidence that his counter-ink would work. But even now, with his life under threat, there was not a single doubt in his mind that completing his rune would bring victory. As the work produced by his Y-Link unfolded beneath him, he grew even surer of that.

His single-minded dedication meant he was caught off guard when the battle changed. He barely registered Cho tumbling through the air, gaze flipping between floor and ceiling before it crashed to the ground with a harsh metallic crunch, the polished metal body crumpling in on itself.

Cho had landed right next to him, jolting Levin out of his intense focus. But if Cho had landed right here, that meant –

Pilip’s foot slammed into Levin’s gut, and the mage sent him skidding across the floor and away from his counter-rune with a burst of Force. Lying down, face pressed up against the floor as he carved, Levin hadn’t noticed Pilip getting close.

Levin clutched his stomach as a fresh surge of pain erupted in his body, momentarily stronger than even the aches from his protracted death. But now it looked like Chaos Sickness wouldn’t be the death of him after all; Pilip’s foul expression didn’t suggest patience. He kicked away Levin’s dropped engraving tool, nearly all the ink drained, and sent it flying off into a shadowy corner of the cavern.

“I was so close!” Levin thought in frustration. It would just take a few more strokes, straight and simple ones, to connect his rune to the central rune array. He didn’t even need any more ink for it to work, but without the engraving tool he wouldn’t be able to carve the final grooves in the stone.

Pilip towered over him, runic artifacts surging with fire, though the light was far dimmer, enough that Levin could make out the exact lines of the remaining runes. Not that it mattered; Levin would die in his current condition even if Pilip had fully exhausted his magic. And he could see the death in Pilip’s eyes as he stepped forward slowly, looking down on him.

“There isn’t another runesmith,” Levin blurted out.

Pilip paused.

“I created the Lethridge counter-ink, and this rune. No one helped me.” As he spoke, Levin probed Cho with his mind, evaluating the condition of his bird, testing if it could move.

“Impossible,” Pilip said, hesitating.

“Yes, for anyone except me.” Cho’s already-damaged right wing had been entirely crushed, but the left retained some mobility. He could still twitch both of its feet, and together with the one wing, Cho could just barely pull itself across the ground.

Pilip stood there for a second between Levin and Cho, surrounded by his flames that seemed insignificant amidst the bursts of light and energy from the rune array below. Then he drew his hand back, preparing to strike. “I don’t care. Carry your fantasies with you into the next life.”

“I need to grab his attention,” Levin thought desperately. He still needed to buy precious seconds, time with which he could control Cho. He had to find something to say that could cut right through Pilip.

“Your theory was right. The Chaos experiments were a success.”

Pilip stopped, finally. His body stiffened in surprise as he stared at Levin, the young man’s withered, gaunt form showing clearly that Pilip had failed, again. And because of that failure Levin would soon die, so how could he of all people claim the opposite?

“It’s the truth. I acquired a Source after Chaos, and that’s when my Sickness started. You actually did succeed.”

The words rolled out easily, and Levin realized with surprise that he had wanted to tell Pilip that all along. But that didn’t matter now – not when his plan was so close to complete. Cho was right next to his nearly-finished rune, it would just take shifting its weight, a little shimmy, a short pull using the usable wing…

There. The route was programmed. Such short, simple movements only took a moment to calculate, and now Cho had received them. He then severed their connection, releasing Cho to its final task. Even if Levin died, Cho would still get the work done. But without the bird, Levin was once again alone in his own mind, lost and adrift, about to die alone in an unknown land far from family, far from home.

But despite it all, Levin felt more relaxed than ever as he looked up at Pilip. Today, he feared failure more than death; as long as he could keep Pilip’s attention, his job was done. And he realized he had the perfect golden bullet to victory.

“I came here from another dimension.”

The words, ones he hadn’t told even Kirima, slipped out for Pilip with ease. There was no longer any need to keep the secret.

And finally, he caught Pilip truly off-guard. The mage’s cocked arm slipped, and Pilip’s mouth went slightly agape, probably more in confusion than shock. But it worked; after all, what could be more shocking than the truth?

“I came from a dimension without any concept of Sources and Forces,” Levin continued. He wouldn’t let this opportunity slip, couldn’t lose Pilip’s curiosity-fueled attention. “Instead, my people pursued a different path, one equally powerful. That's how I could do everything I did even without magic.”

Pilip was listening. Cho was nearly there.

“It's also why I didn’t have any Source, at first. No one from my home does, but we acquire it over time by living here. As I discovered. So for a time, your Chaos experiments really were successful.”

Pilip’s arm dropped, hanging limply by his side. Levin’s words had more of an effect than he had expected.

"My theory was correct…?" he said slowly.

But it wasn’t enough to distract Pilip for long. Success or failure, that didn’t matter anymore – not with the crimes Levin had committed, and Levin knew it. Pilip’s gaze hardened once more, and Levin could see in his eyes that mere words wouldn't work anymore. Pilip had decided to kill him.

Then the light died.

The rune array shut off, leaving only Pilip’s flames to illuminate the cavern. But compared to the majesty of the rune array, Pilip was like a small candle flickering in the black of night.

And an instant later, like a machine shifting gears, the rune array flared back to life, filling the room with a blinding, single-toned light as it began executing its new purpose. Pilip lurched as the touch of the rune array reached him, and his eyes bugged in shock as he spun back to the spot of Levin’s engraving.

There, the tip of Cho’s wing stabbed into the ground, a fresh runic pathway left in its wake.

Pilip pointed, and his runes flared to life.

“Goodbye, friend,” Levin thought, looking with regret at the broken and mangled corpse of one of his only remaining reminders of home. “You were magnificent to the end.”

An explosion rocked Cho’s body, ripping the broken metal pieces apart and shattering the bird into several large chunks that scattered around the cavern.

However, finally, Pilip’s runes died. The last of the ink burned away, and his runic artifacts became inert fashion accessories. Pilip spun back to face Levin and raised an arm towards him, silent and focused.

“Assault Barrage!”

Nothing happened. Pilip stood, arm outstretched, staring at Levin and gaping like a fish out of water. Then his brows furrowed as he leaned forward, a hard look in his eyes.

“Assault Barrage!”

…Nothing happened.

“What have you done!?” he shrieked, charging forward towards Levin.

In response, Levin formed a double-handed seal, and a cylindrical runic barrier sprang to life around him, stretching from floor to ceiling. That simple motion took all the rest of his strength, and Levin’s arms promptly collapsed weakly back to the ground.

And everything went black for Levin.

***

“Come on, Yotti!” Kana said, pulling him by the arm.

Yotti didn’t resist Kana’s tug, but let himself be towed along in a daze, eyes unfocused as he trudged through the forest’s underbrush. Behind them, the footfalls of a few galloping horses sounded out against the cries of battle that filled the night air, closing in quickly even though she had chosen a dense part of the forest to flee into.

“Shit, more horses!” Kana thought, trying faster to get Yotti to safety. “They must be reinforcements from the front gate!”

Kana turned in the direction of her pursuers, pushing Yotti on. “Go!” she commanded, and the wounded Hunter confusedly obeyed, stumbling away without Kana’s help.

Kana took a deep breath, holding her rapier at the ready. She still had the strength for a weapon art, and enough ink for one more spell with her blade – much more than the rest of her and Jess’s fighters had left, judging by the dying sounds of battle. With the element of surprise long gone and their magical buffer nearly fully depleted, they wouldn’t be able to hold this position any longer. “Which is why we wanted to dismount them all,” she thought with frustration.

Then she dashed forward, hoping to cut the newcomers off farther away from Yotti. The force at the front gate had been overwhelmed and pushed down towards Kana’s position, and she had seen Yotti take a bad fall to the head trying to cover what was left of his squads.

Kana had then burned up the rest of the ink in her wind boots getting him to safety. She shook her head in regret; Yotti had been saved, but many others had certainly perished. Their initial surprise attack had gone well, but the battle was dragging longer than they had anticipated.

“I need to regroup all the squads together,” Kana thought as she pushed through the trees. But she would have to survive this encounter at first.

Guided by the sound of their horses, she burst through the underbrush to come face-to-face with three enemy battlemages atop fresh mounts, riding in a tight group as fast as they could in the difficult terrain. They yelled in surprise as Kana appeared, and she took full advantage of the moment by destroying the knee of the lead mage’s horse with her rapier.

He tumbled to the ground as the horse collapsed, and the other two – one man, one woman – peeled out to the sides to surround Kana. She struck out testingly towards the dismounted mage as the others moved around her, but in vain. He had summoned the Academy’s runic shield to his defense.

She backed off, turning her focus onto the woman coming up on her right. Instantly, silently, the battlemage released a torrent of fire towards her, enveloping the plants indiscriminately and expanding the massive forest fire burning all over the mountain. Kana took cover behind a tree as the flames washed by, dashing out to close the distance as soon as it cleared.

But behind her, several small orbs of flame darted precisely towards her, launched by the remaining mounted mage. She cursed under breath, raising a scale-covered arm up to defend her head as she braced for the impact. The dragonscale armor absorbed the destructive power of the bolts with ease, and she continued on to her original target with a –

Another blast connected from her blind spot, and Kana tumbled to the ground even as the dragon scales kept her from being scorched. “From the downed one?” she thought, springing back to her feet. But as soon as she looked up, she saw the battlemage before her fire another wide cone of raging fire, this time without any trees in the way.

Kana panicked and activated the final rune charge on her rapier, and the fire was dispersed amidst a blast of wind. She prepared to charge the one that attacked, but instead two more spells slammed into her from behind, throwing her to the ground once more. She tried to rise immediately, but more attacks drove her back down as the three Wisp rank battlemages together unleashed a constant stream of attacks.

“I can’t move!” Kana thought in despair as she lay on the ground in fetal position, unable to do anything except cover her head with her arms.

The dragon scale armor was more than strong enough to hold out underneath the acolyte-level barrage, but Kana herself was not as the fire burned through the armor’s chinks while the heat boiled her like an oven. She wanted to scream, to run, to fight back, to fire off her weapon art however little power it possessed compared to these mages – but the raw pressure of their magic kept her pinned in place.

From beyond the deafening flames in her ears, she could vaguely make out the battlemages speaking to each other – they weren’t even committing full power to annihilating her. And she still couldn’t do anything, even cry, as the heat dried her eyes to a painful degree.

But even with dry, stinging eyes shut tight, she could see the light blossom. It was like a sun had suddenly appeared in the sky above, shining down light so bright Kana could notice it even with her face buried in the ground amidst a shower of fire. And with it, came a blessed release from her prison.

She sprang up as the pressure lifted, blinking furiously to get her vision working again. Around her, the battlemages shouted, but it was all inaudible to Kana – she could focus only on the beauty above.

The rune array’s primary shield, the one stretching like a dome all over Mount Inuvik, had just sprang into existence for the first time since Silla’s attack. But though Kana had not seen the shield then, she could tell this wasn’t how it normally looked.

The glow of the shield spread out from above the peak of the mountain down the sides like a waterfall of light that shone with a deep, regal purple that seemed to cast the mountain in its majestic shadow even as it illuminated every crevice. And with it came the greatest blessing Kana had seen in her entire life – an end to the mages’ magic.

***

Mei stood grinning outside the entrance to the Academy’s Smoke Hall, standing with her back to the door as she bathed in the glowing purple light. Beside her was Takt, looking worn out with bloodied clothing, but remained upright at the ready while holding tightly to the hilt of his blade. Mei herself had burns all across her body, the result of battling two Smoke ranks all the way back up Mount Inuvik.

And yet, they looked like the picture of health compared to their opponents, the three Smoke rank leaders of Inuvik Academy. Eliya’s robe fluttered in tatters after his duel with Takt, though he himself did not carry any major wounds. Hann was kneeling on the ground next to him, using his right arm to clutch the stump that used to be his left. And Panai looked barely better than the feeble old man he really was – it almost seemed that he might die simply standing there.

And in reality, that might just happen. The shroud of energy from the Force Distribution System was gone, replaced by the opposite – tendrils of purple that whisked away off the mages like evaporating sweat.

“It’s absorbing our Force,” Panai said with a grim look.

“The Wisp rank mages can’t stand it,” Eliya said, looking over his shoulder to the entrance of the campus. Already, several of the mages still there had collapsed, ironically drained of energy by the very creation they relied upon to supply it.

“We can still stop it,” Hann said, his voice hoarse and weak.

“Oh, you think so? Your vision must be going bad. Can’t you see me standing here?” Mei said.

Hann ignored her, maintaining his upward gaze towards Panai. The old man seemed unsteady on his feet, but stood with all the bearing of a leader with centuries of experience as he locked eyes with Mei.

“It’s time to end this,” Takt said, fingers wrapped around the hilt of his blade.

The shields of the central rune array no longer came to the mages’ defense. The Force Distribution System actively sucked away their power, stopping spellcasting and rendering each mage unconscious after a few minutes.

And the Smoke ranks had already lost their protective artifacts.

Takt disappeared in a flash, his still-active weapon art enhancing his speed to heights even Mei couldn’t follow.

Three heads rolled to the ground in his wake.