Alton opened his eyes to a vast expanse of frozen tundra, stretching out as far as he could see. The crisp, biting air stung his lungs with each breath, and the snow crunched beneath his boots as he stood. He recognized this realm immediately – the domain of the Wolf, the primal aspect that had chosen him as its vessel.
He was alone for now, a rare moment of solitude amidst the chaos of war. Alton took a deep breath and began to cycle his mana, feeling the familiar ebb and flow of energy through his core. As he inspected the metaphysical representation of his manasphere, he was startled by what he saw.
Alton stared in awe at the eight fully awakened nodes of his core, pulsing with brilliant energy. His mind raced as he grasped the magnitude of his progress – he had ascended to the eighth tier, a feat that few had accomplished in the last thousand years.
He cycled his mana, feeling the immense power coursing through his body, a force that he could now wield with greater control and precision. The battle against Xulgoth and his fiend horde had pushed Alton to his limits, unlocking depths of potential he never knew existed.
Xulgoth… The name sent a chill down Alton's spine as he recalled the Sapient's overwhelming mana reserves. If Alton had reached the eighth tier, what unfathomable heights had Xulgoth ascended to? The thought was both terrifying and humbling, a reminder of the formidable foes they still faced in the war against Ulgarath's forces.
Yet, in that moment, Alton allowed himself to bask in the satisfaction of his achievement. He had defied the odds, surpassing the expectations placed upon even the most gifted of mana wielders. A small, proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he basked in the icy expanse of the Wolf's realm.
This was a milestone, a testament to his unwavering dedication and the sacrifices he had made. Alton knew that the road ahead would be fraught with even greater challenges, but he felt a renewed sense of determination, a fire burning within him that could not be extinguished.
With the Wolf's power coursing through his veins, Alton felt invincible, a true embodiment of the indomitable spirit that had defined the people of Agorra for generations. He was a beacon of hope, a living symbol of the resilience and strength that would ultimately triumph over the darkness that threatened to consume their world. Next, he turned his attention to his core.
The normally placid lake that symbolized his mana reserves was choppy and turbulent, with large rents torn into the banks. The once-serene landscape was marred by jagged fissures and upturned earth, a stark contrast to its usual tranquility.
Alton's thought back to the battle with Xulgoth, the cunning Sapient commander who had nearly brought Aethelwurn to its knees. He remembered the overwhelming surge of power that had coursed through him, a force unlike anything he had ever experienced before. In a desperate bid to protect his comrades and the city, he had unleashed a titanic wave of mana, a devastating attack that had staggered even the formidable Xulgoth.
As he replayed the moment in his mind, Alton could feel the echoes of that immense energy, the raw power that had flowed through his veins like molten steel. He focused on the sensation, the way his muscles had tensed and his core had ignited, channeling the full might of the Wolf's essence.
Alton carefully cycled through his awakened nodes, trying to gauge the potential to re-create that powerful surge of mana. He reached deep within himself, probing the metaphysical channels and pathways that governed the flow of his essence. Yet, no matter how hard he focused, he could not recreate that same overwhelming torrent of energy.
The mana moved sluggishly, as if impeded by some unseen force. Alton could sense the damage wrought by his previous exertion, the fissures and cracks that marred his manasphere. It would take time and rest to fully recover from such a monumental expenditure of power.
As frustration began to creep in, Alton felt a familiar presence stir within him. The Wolf, his eternal companion and source of strength, made its consciousness known. A low, rumbling growl echoed through the frozen tundra, seeming to emanate from the very earth itself.
Alton closed his eyes, opening his mind to the primal entity that had chosen him as its vessel. In his mind's eye, he saw the massive form of the Wolf materialize before him, its piercing silver eyes fixing him with an intense, predatory gaze.
"You cannot hope to command such power alone, child," the Wolf's voice reverberated, ancient and wise. "The surge you unleashed was a union of our essences, a melding of your mortal might and my primal fury."
"I cannot manifest here for long while I still inhabit the reservoir. Your pup is leading the fight to cleanse the city of that foul traitors spawn." The voice came from everywhere and nowhere.
Alton nodded, understanding dawning upon him. Amelia was still fighting and using Fang, he smiled as he pictured her fierce face locked in combat. He turned his thoughts back to the attack that had nearly felled Xulgoth. It was a product of their symbiotic bond, a merging of the Wolf's raw power and his own mastery of the manasphere.
Could he replicate such a feat? Alton wondered, his brow furrowed in concentration. The potential for such destructive force was both exhilarating and terrifying, a double-edged sword that could turn the tide of battle or consume him entirely.
His thoughts then turned back to Amelia, his trusted sergeant and the woman who had stepped forward when he had fallen. He remembered the awe he had felt as she unleashed her own fury upon Xulgoth, a display of power and determination that had rallied the defenders of Aethelwurn. A swell of pride filled his chest, and he knew that without her unwavering courage, the city would have been lost.
"Do not lose yourself here, aspirant. I have cultivated this storm of mana for eons, the temptation to remain here will grow stronger over time. Time flows differently in the ethereal realm, you have one month before you must return." The Wolf warned before its form turned to mist.
* * *
Alton watched as the massive form of the Wolf dissipated into the icy mists, leaving him alone in the frozen expanse. He took a deep breath, savoring the crisp air and the stillness that enveloped him. For the first time in recent memory, he felt a sense of tranquility, free from the demands of war and the weight of leadership that constantly bore down upon his shoulders.
Seizing the opportunity, Alton turned his attention inward, inspecting his mana pathways and core with a level of focus he had not been able to afford in recent battles. He began to cycle his mana in earnest, drawing in great swaths of energy from the frozen tundra that surrounded him.
As the mana flowed through his awakened nodes, Alton immediately noticed a distinct difference. The essence felt denser, richer than the mana he was accustomed to in the physical realm of Agorra. It filled his core at an accelerated rate, the pathways expanding and contracting with each ebb and flow of the energy.
Alton cycled deeper, allowing the mana to suffuse every fiber of his being. He could feel the raw power coursing through his veins, a primal force that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the Wolf's realm. It was as if the tundra itself was lending its strength to him, bolstering his reserves and amplifying his connection to the manasphere.
With each cycle, Alton could feel his core expanding, the once-turbulent lake of mana growing calmer and more stable. The fissures and cracks that had marred its banks began to seal, the upturned earth settling back into place as the mana replenished and rejuvenated his essence.
Alton lost track of time as he immersed himself in the rhythmic ebb and flow of the mana, his mind focused solely on the task of replenishing his reserves and repairing the damage wrought by his battle with Xulgoth. It was a meditative state, a rare moment of peace amidst the chaos of war.
As he continued to cycle, Alton began to experiment with the denser mana, probing its properties and testing the limits of his control. Alton's eyes drifted shut as he surrendered himself fully to the mana's restorative flow. With each cycle, he could feel the energy permeating every cell of his body, probing the microscopic structures and repairing the damage inflicted by the years of war.
As the mana pulsed outward from his core, Alton could sense it identifying the injured cells, the ones that had been ravaged by the Sapient's overwhelming power. He pictured the mana breaking down those damaged structures, reducing them to their base components before drawing them back into his core to be purged.
With each exhale, Alton expelled the remnants of the damaged cells, feeling them dissipate into the frigid air like smoke from a dying fire. And with each inhale, he drew in fresh mana, replenishing his reserves and fueling the cycle anew.
The process was mesmerizing, a dance of destruction and regeneration that played out on a microscopic scale within his body. Alton could feel the mana repairing and rebuilding, restoring his cells to their optimal state with each passing moment.
As he continued to cycle, Alton began to exert greater pressure on his core, pushing the mana outward with more force and drawing it back with greater intensity. He found himself becoming addicted to the process, striving to pull and push more mana with each breath, to increase the pace of the cycle and accelerate the regeneration of his body.
The mana responded to his will, flowing faster and more vigorously through his pathways. Alton could feel his cells breaking down and rebuilding at a frenetic pace, a constant state of flux as the damaged structures were eradicated and replaced with pristine, rejuvenated ones.
The cycle became a frenzy, a whirlwind of mana that swept through every fiber of Alton's being, leaving nothing untouched in its wake. He could feel his body growing stronger, more resilient, as the mana purged the last vestiges of damage and fortified his cells against future harm.
* * *
Lews knelt beside the makeshift cot, his hands glowing with a soft blue aura as he tended to Alton's wounds. The captain lay motionless, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Seka hovered nearby, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and apprehension.
"Like this," Lews said, guiding her hands over Alton's battered body. "Feel the mana flowing through you, and channel it into his injuries. Use my mana as a blueprint, guiding the mana towards the framework that I have laid out."
Seka closed her eyes, her brow furrowed in concentration. A faint shimmer of golden light flickered around her fingertips, and Lews felt the familiar tingle of healing energy coursing through the air.
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"Excellent," he praised, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You have a natural affinity for this. Once you study the texts and learn how the body should be, it will be natural for you to return it to that state. That is the core of what we do when we heal, return the body to its previous state before it was damaged."
Seka opened her eyes, her gaze drawn to the jagged gash across Alton's abdomen. "I've never seen such violence," she murmured, her voice trembling. "During the battle, I was overcome with fear. I... I hid like a coward."
Lews placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "There's no shame in that," he said gently. "My first battle with Wolf Company, I cowered behind a boulder, telling myself I was waiting for the right moment to act. But the truth was, I was terrified."
He paused, his mind drifting back to that fateful day. "It wasn't until I saw Letty take a vicious strike across her back that I found the courage to act. The sight of her pain spurred me into motion."
A fond smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he thought of the fierce young archer. "Don't tell her I said that," he added with an embaressed flush of his cheeks.
"I won't," Seka giggled and turned back to the captain. "The first time I met the captain…"
Lews nodded solemnly as Seka recounted how she had first encountered Alton. Her voice was thick with emotion, recalling the desperation that had driven her to manipulate the Agorran captain in the hopes of escaping the Edorian outpost where she had been enslaved.
"I was simply trying to survive," she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I would have said or done anything to escape that hellish place. But then... something changed."
She reached out, her slender fingers brushing against Alton's sweat-dampened brow. "This man, who should have been my enemy, showed me a kindness I had never known. He treated me not as a slave, but as a person worthy of respect."
Seka's gaze lingered on Alton's unconscious form, a profound reverence etched across her delicate features. "I cannot explain it in words, but I would gladly give my life for him. Growing up as a slave, I thought I understood loyalty, but it was a mere mimicry of what I feel now."
Lews nodded, his heart swelling with pride as he understood the depth of Seka's newfound allegiance. "I know the feeling," he said softly. "When I first joined Wolf Company, I was a shy, awkward boy who could barely look anyone in the eye. But these soldiers, these warriors... they became my family."
His gaze swept across the dimly lit infirmary, taking in the weary but determined faces of his comrades. "I would die for them without hesitation. They have shown me what true loyalty means, what it is to fight for something greater than oneself."
* * *
Amelia stood outside the door, her ear pressed against the rough wooden surface as the muffled voices of Lews and Seka filtered through. A warmth blossomed in her chest as she listened to their words, their devotion and loyalty to Alton resonating deeply within her soul.
Clearing her throat, she coughed to announce her presence before pushing the door open and stepping inside. Her gaze immediately fell upon Alton's motionless form, his face etched with the strain of his ordeal. Turning to Lews, she asked, "How is he faring?"
Lews shook his head solemnly. "His outward condition remains unchanged."
Amelia's brow furrowed. "Outward?" she echoed, sensing a deeper meaning behind his words.
The young mage nodded, his eyes alight with a mixture of wonder and concern. "It's remarkable, really. Captain Alton is drawing in an immense amount of mana – more than I've ever seen. It's surging through his body, like he's trying to heal himself from the inside out."
Amelia's breath caught in her throat as she processed this revelation. She had witnessed the captain's prowess on the battlefield, his connection to the Wolf granting him extraordinary abilities. But this was something else entirely, a feat she could scarcely comprehend.
"What does it mean?" she asked, her voice hushed.
Lews spread his hands, a helpless gesture. "I'm not sure. It's unlike anything I've encountered before. All we can do is watch and help where we can, providing what healing magic we can muster to support his efforts."
Amelia nodded, her gaze returning to Alton's still form. A surge of determination welled up within her, mingling with the warmth of her loyalty and affection for her captain. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she would be there, steadfast and unwavering, until Alton opened his eyes once more.
Amelia strode down the winding corridors of Aethelwurn, her boots echoing against the carved stone floor. Seka trailed behind her, the young woman's gaze darting nervously from side to side as if expecting an ambush around every corner.
"You needn't worry," Amelia assured her, slowing her pace to allow Seka to catch up. "The fiends have been routed, and the city is secure."
Seka offered a wan smile, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tunic. "Old habits die hard, I suppose."
Amelia studied the other woman, noting the weariness etched into her features. She couldn't begin to imagine the horrors Seka had endured as a slave to the Edorians, but she admired the quiet strength that had carried her this far.
As they approached the council chambers, Amelia's steps faltered. A knot of uncertainty twisted in her gut, and she found herself longing for Alton's steady presence at her side.
"Seka," she began, her voice thick with uncharacteristic hesitation. "I must confess, I'm not sure how to proceed from here."
Seka turned to face Amelia, her dark eyes searching the sergeant's face. "What do you mean?"
Amelia sighed, her shoulders slumping beneath the weight of her doubts. "My head tells me we must press the advantage, join forces with the other Thoiri armies to drive back Ulgarath's minions. But my heart..." She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the chamber door as if she could see Alton lying motionless beyond it.
"You wish to wait for the captain," Seka finished, her voice soft with understanding.
Amelia nodded, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Foolish, isn't it? I've trained for this, led the company before. But the thought of leading such a massive force into unfamiliar territory without him..." She shook her head, her throat constricting around the words.
Seka laid a gentle hand on Amelia's arm, her touch grounding her. "It's not foolish at all. The captain inspires loyalty in a way few others can. He has a gift for bringing people together, for making them believe they can achieve the impossible."
Amelia's smile deepened, warmth blooming in her chest at Seka's words. "Yes, that he does."
"He believes in you, I've seen the look in his eyes when he watches you lead. For what its worth, I believe in you as well. Wolf Company will follow you to the depths of Ulgaraths domain and beyond, sergeant." Seka said, her voice growing bolder and louder with each word.
Tears threatened to gather at the corner of Amelia's eyes. Squaring her shoulders, she met Seka's gaze with renewed determination. Amelia turned and resumed the walk to the council chambers with a new air of confidence.
* * *
Nelson stood at the back of the council chambers, arms crossed over his broad chest, trying his best to look intimidating as Amelia discussed strategy with the Aethelwurn generals. His brother Miser was still recovering from a nasty concussion sustained during the battle, leaving Nelson to fill in as Amelia's silent sentinel.
As he watched Amelia confidently debate tactics and troop movements, Nelson couldn't help but marvel at how far she'd come. He remembered the first time they'd met, back at the training camp, when she was just a wide-eyed recruit, her fiery hair and noble upbringing making her stand out among the other soldiers. Now, she was a fierce sergeant, staring down grizzled generals of an ancient city without a hint of hesitation.
The finer points of the strategy discussion went over Nelson's head, but he knew his role was simply to stand there and look as imposing as possible. He caught the eye of a burly Thoiri warrior who seemed to be questioning Amelia's authority and leveled a steely glare at the man, daring him to speak out of turn.
As Nelson's gaze drifted back to Amelia, he found himself momentarily distracted by the way her custom-fitted drake scale armor hugged her athletic frame. He felt his cheeks threaten to flush and quickly averted his eyes.
Nelson refocused his attention on the meeting, determined to project an aura of unwavering strength and support for Amelia. He may not have fully grasped the intricacies of the strategy being discussed, but he knew that whatever plan they settled on, he would be by Amelia's side, ready to face any challenge head-on.
Nelson waited patiently as Amelia concluded her discussion with the Aethelwurn generals, his imposing frame a silent reminder of Wolf Company's strength and solidarity. When the last of the tactical details had been ironed out, he caught Amelia's eye and requested permission to address the council. She looked momentarily confused but nodded all the same.
Nelson stepped forward, feeling suddenly self-conscious under the scrutinizing gaze of the council members. He cleared his throat, his deep voice echoing through the chamber. "Honorable council, I come before you to request the use of your forges."
A murmur of confusion rippled through the gathered Thoiri, and Nelson felt his cheeks redden slightly. He pressed on, determined to make his request clear. "The battle against the fiend horde has taken its toll on our armor and weapons. With your permission, I would like to make use of your forges to repair and maintain the gear of Wolf Company."
One of the council members, a gruff-looking warrior with a scar across his cheek, let out a hearty laugh. "Son of Agorra, you needn't ask permission to use our forges. I would stoke the flames myself if you asked. Wolf Company has the full support of Aethelwurn, from now until this council draws its last breath."
* * *
Nelson nodded gratefully at the council member's words, a surge of pride swelling in his chest. With the council's blessing, Nelson made his way to the city's forges, eager to get to work repairing the company's armor and weapons. An aide from the council walked with him to convey orders.
As he approached the massive, smoke-belching structures, he was surprised to find a line of Aethelwurn citizens already waiting outside, their expressions a mix of determination and reverence.
Nelson approached the first person in line, a grizzled old woman with calloused hands and a steely gaze. "What's all this about?" he asked, gesturing to the crowd gathered behind her. Nelson was grateful for Seka agreeing to join him until he worked out the plan with the Aethelwurn smiths.
The woman's weathered face broke into a warm smile. "We've come to lend our mana to the smiths, son of Agorra. It's the least we can do for the warriors who defended our city."
Nelson felt a lump form in his throat as the full weight of the woman's words sank in. He had expected to spend days painstakingly refilling the mana reservoirs in the company's armor, but the people of Aethelwurn were offering to do it for them, a selfless act of gratitude and support.
As Nelson entered the forge, he was immediately greeted by a team of Thoiri smiths, their muscular frames glistening with sweat from the intense heat. They wasted no time in showing Nelson the intricacies of their craft, teaching him how to properly repair and maintain the drake scale armor that had become a critical part of Wolf Companies strength.
Nelson worked tirelessly alongside the smiths, his powerful frame well-suited to the demanding physical labor. As he hammered and shaped the armor, he felt a sense of kinship with the Thoiri, their shared love for the forge and the art of crafting binding them together in a way that transcended words.
One by one, the citizens of Aethelwurn filed into the forge, each one offering a portion of their mana to refill the armor's reservoirs. Nelson watched in awe as the intricate patterns etched into the drake scales began to glow with a brilliant, otherworldly light, the armor seeming to come alive under the infusion of mana.
By the time the last citizen had made their offering, Nelson's muscles burned with fatigue, but a sense of accomplishment filled his heart. This was how he could help the company, save the lives of his brothers and sisters.
* * *
Amelia sat with Wolf Company in the barracks, enjoying a warm meal and a full tankard of mushroom wine. The session with the council went better than expected, agreeing to her requests with little push back. Wolf Company and the Aethelwurn under the command of General Thrakul would wait inside the city for one week. She prayed that it would be enough for the captain to wake.
The barracks buzzed with lively conversation, the soldiers relishing the rare moment of respite. Amelia's gaze swept over her comrades, a surge of pride swelling in her chest. They had faced unimaginable horrors together, forging an unbreakable bond that transcended mere camaraderie.
Across the table, Letty regaled the others with an animated retelling of her duel with a particularly tenacious fiend, her hands gesturing wildly. Lews sat beside her, listening intently, his eyes alight with admiration. Amelia couldn't help but smile at the sight.
Nearby, Nelson and Miser engaged in a boisterous arm-wrestling match, their muscles straining as they grunted and strained against each other's formidable strength. A small crowd had gathered around them, cheering and jeering in equal measure, the camaraderie palpable.
Amelia's gaze finally settled on the empty chair at the head of the table, a pang of longing tugging at her heart. She missed the captain's steadfast presence, his unwavering leadership, and the reassuring weight of his hand on her shoulder. Without him, she felt adrift, a ship without a rudder, struggling to navigate the treacherous waters of war.
Yet, even in his absence, she could sense his spirit lingering, a guiding force that bound them all together. It was that spirit, that indomitable will, that had carried them through the darkest of times, and it would continue to sustain them in the days to come.
With a deep breath, Amelia raised her tankard, the mushroom wine sloshing gently within. "To the captain," she called out, her voice ringing clear above the din. "May his spirit guide us, and may he return to us soon."
A chorus of cheers erupted, tankards clashing together in a resounding salute. Amelia drank deeply, the rich liquid warming her from within, and for a fleeting moment, she felt the weight of her burden lighten, buoyed by the unwavering loyalty of her Wolf Company family.