Shadow Fist was jogging back to the Forrest Caldera, carrying orders from Custodian. It was an odd elemental lord. Shadow Fist had asked for a name, simply to get a gender, and got a job title instead. It had a water kern, an earth muscle structure, and an air elemental housed in its brain. The undead caretaker was very specific in its instructions, but it also never forgot to hand out rewards. Custodian was the only reason no one had to oversee the construction work, the workers had grown to admire the cadaver.
The parchment that Custodian had handed Shadow Fist had a blueprint for a weapon he did not understand. It had four wheels and a stick with a bucket on the end. Custodian had promised that it would shoot large stones over walls and into cities.
The very concept of building weapons for the sole purpose of subduing those weaker than oneself put a bad taste in Shadow Fist’s mouth. It was yet another reason these creatures weren’t to be trusted. In the Caldera, most war machines were made to kill high tier enemies.
The most common one was a wire contraption that was wound up with the help of a large turn wheel. Once set, the warriors could hide inside while a mythical beast approached. They would release the wire when it got close enough. The wire moved at such high speeds that it could cut into anything up to high tier seven, and kill as high as tier eight if it had a weak skin.
It was good for the weak to use their mind to overcome the strong. The strong should not need fancy tools to overcome the weak. It went against the law of predation.
He made good time running over the countryside between the Forrest Caldera and the small city that was springing up around the mine. Tier four was amazing, he had reached it so fast that he still had struggles when doing mundane tasks. Shaking a guard's hand had almost turned into a set of broken fingers when his grip strength almost doubled. Cooking became more difficult, as stirring soup became a struggle not to splash it everywhere.
Shadow Fist was getting used to it, he was sure he would still lose to Henry, but he was also Shadow Fist’s worst matchup. Time and practice were the only solutions to his problems. Time he lacked. As soon as these war machines were built the Forrest Caldera would march. Shadow Fist would have to fight, and he was not sure how he would handle the Lake Caldera’s heavy hitters.
The boy he had insulted on the road to the mine turned out to be a bigger menace than Siren. It was enough to make Shadow Fist doubt the competency of the information-collecting agencies. How could they miss both a tier four and a tier five sitting just eight miles down the road?
His musings were interrupted when he cleared the tree line and received an unobstructed view of the sky. A thick column of smoke billowed. Shadow Fist panicked, was the Forrest Caldera under attack? It looked like the center of the city was on fire. He was too far away to see what was happening, so he redoubled his speed, going from a jog to a sprint.
Both guards at the gate scrambled to get their weapons ready when they saw someone approaching at a truly ridiculous pace. Shadow Fist would ordinarily enjoy scaring Kieth, the man was irritating, but he was in a hurry. He blew past them and continued into the city.
Most of the people in the poorer districts were simply standing and gawking at the sky. Shadow Fist could only feel exasperation at their lack of action. The building housing head Guider was on fire, all the acolytes lived there, and most of the city’s artifacts were housed there. Regis was also there, how could a fire get out of hand? His artifact consumed any fire it came in contact with to fuel its owner. The very fact that a fire existed meant that an enemy had breached the walls.
Shadow Fist had to slow down as the path became more congested. Wagons and boxes of construction materials littered the streets. The wealthier district had the foresight to take refuge and let the authorities handle the problem. They had left everything they were doing in the way.
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“With me!” Shadow Fist yelled at a group of elementals that had been patrolling.
It should have been obvious to the mindless creatures. Go fight the invaders was one of the main commands that Lord Ajax had given them. Shadow Fist knew that the Elemental Lord only viewed the people as cattle, but was that any different than how Elder Forrest had treated the people? The difference was, that Lord Ajax wanted his cattle fat and ready for the harvest.
It was both insidious and genius how the elemental lord planned things out. Oppressed people died with regrets, yes, but ascetic people lived a regret. They wished they had explored, built, or served more. They looked back and noticed how wasted their lives had been. It was a regret that would not even require torture.
The elementals were all armed with simple shields and clubs, an effective combination. They were all tier one and much slower than Shadow Fist. He contemplated slowing his pace to match theirs but did not want to waste the time.
He changed their instructions, “Find the intruders and kill them unless they surrender.”
They did not even acknowledge his order, though he knew they would obey without question. He quickly accelerated only stopping to give more elementals the same orders. When he arrived at the head family’s mansion turned temple, it was a bonfire. White flames mixed with orange, as everything was consumed.
Shadow Fist stood half in horror half in awe. This is the power that his force should possess, it was the the most primal representation of consumption he had ever seen. Unfortunately, his force flavored a dark kern, not a fire one, Hellen’s would look like this if she had the force. Darkness was creeping, it covered everything, and without anyone noticing it would devour its prey. It was not for no reason that all people feared the dark.
“Thank the gods you’re here,” a man panted as he ran up to Shadow Fist.
It took a moment for him to recognize the man through the burns, soot, and rags, “Guider Daphan, what happened? Who attacked us?”
“Yes,” Guider Daphan answered wincing as the skin on his neck cracked, “We were attacked by your son, Regis started this fire while fighting him.”
“Impossible,” Shadow Fist said, “Lord Ajax personally killed him.”
He made sure to keep his face impassive. Over the last few years, he had tried to kill any feelings of empathy for his son. He needed to provide for the family he could still help. Where had that gotten him? He was tier four, had real power, and still felt hollow. His wife had run away when a messenger from the mine had come to collect the miner’s families.
Like many other men, he struggled to see what he had until it was gone. So maybe, the elemental lord had lied to him. If it wanted him to serve killing his son and getting rid of his other ties would certainly be an effective method. He quashed the hope that was building before it showed on his face.
“I don’t mean to call the Champion a liar, but who else has golden eyes and spreads decay?” Guider Daphan said.
“I know, it's just that I don’t see how anyone could survive a fight with Ajax,” Shadow Fist shook his head, “Did anyone else get out?”
“A few, Guider Warner’s girl, and those tending the herb gardens,” Guider Daphan answered, “Other than them, more than fifty people are dead.”
“Torrey survived,” Shadow Fist had only met the girl once, but she was responsible enough, “What about Regis?”
There was an explosion, and almost as if speaking his name summoned him, Regis stumbled out. His arm hung at an odd angle, a large patch of charred flesh coated his neck and lower jaw, and he moved with an obvious limp. His eyes locked on Shadow Fist, they were filled with rage and murderous intent.
Normally, Shadow Fist did not like his chances against the man. As he was now, Shadow Fist likely did not need to utilize his essence to win. Regis made a guttering fire construct and tried to burn Shadow Fist with it. He activated consumption to remove the flames and caught Regis’s extended arm by the wrist.
“Enough,” Shadow Fist said with a stony expression, “Do not try that again. Elder Daphan find a healer, I believe my skills as an assassin would be better at accomplishing this task. Tell the elementals that are en route to put out the fire.”
Regis tried to yell again but only succeeded in tearing his vocal cords. Shadow Fist activated his camouflage, disappearing from view. He frowned to himself, where would Tristan hide? Harp’s old home? There weren’t many places that held fond memories. He would have to start with the obvious locations.
It was oddly gratifying to see the broken lock in his old home. Not many people would rob this place, as he made no secret that it was his little place of mourning. While it was not robbed, it was vandalized. He smiled at the decay filling the room and the message carved into the wall. He would be meeting his son tomorrow evening.