– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 216, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 26 –

Weran stepped through the dimensional gate. His eerie, green cloak was fluttering in the wind. He examined the outline of the giant oak that was towering over the city below. “What a rare sight. Almost a pity to cut it down.” He began anchoring the long-distance gate connected to the northeast of Arcana.

“Wait!” Elenec dropped from the sky. She was the first to detect the unfamiliar scent and life signature.

Weran shot her an indifferent glance and continued his work unperturbed. “If you believe that you can give me orders, you are mistaken, vampiress.”

“No, that’s not—” Elenec forced herself to remain calm. According to her intel and the elf’s appearance, this was the worst possible person to meet among the vengeful dimensional mages. “There are people that want to talk to you.”

“Which is different from me being willing to listen,” retorted Weran.

“People from Arcana as well,” stressed Elenec.

For the first time, Weran looked at her properly. “So? I don’t give special treatment based on our shared place of birth. They are free to join in teaching Tiv a lesson or to throw their lives away.” He did not interrupt his casting. “Their lives are their own. Nothing to do with me.”

People were rushing to the place from the Guardian outpost.

“Please stop!” shouted Cadence.

Weran’s eyes narrowed with a frigid glint when he recognized the mana signature of the Bright Lady. “Don’t wag your vile tongue at me, cultist. You can thank your Bright Willow for this. Actions have consequences.”

“I…” Cadence gulped and hardened her resolve. “If you have a debt to settle with our circle, then please limit it to me. I’m a Luminous and that is currently the highest rank of our circle in this place. Kill me if you wish, but please do not involve the city.”

“What good would killing you do?” Weran retorted with cold indifference, as if he was talking to an insect of no consequence. “Will it bring back Arcana’s barrier? Will it undo the death and destruction? Your life means nothing.”

“Destroying Libra City will not do any good either!” retorted Elenec. Her fists were clenched tightly.

“Destroying the Tiv Empire, on the other hand…” Weran looked at them fiercely. “Will remind people of a lesson they should have never forgotten in the first place. Actions have consequences.”

“But—” Cadence’s eyes were turning red.

“Cadence, stop,” interjected Dhruv, who had also arrived. “This won’t change anything.”

“Listen to the druid,” said Weran with a chuckle. “Impressive druid oak. Reminds me of the elven groves of my home.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, you have picked an awful place to plant it.”

“I would like to confirm a few things,” said Dhruv tentatively. When Weran did not interject, he continued. “We just have to face whatever is coming through the gate. You won’t get involved personally?”

“As long as you don’t touch the gate or me, that is correct,” replied Weran. “These creatures were released into Arcana by Tiv’s conspiracy. I’m just paying this empire back in kind. I don’t have a personal grudge against you. Whether you survive or not does not interest me, unless you provoke me first.”

“Very well,” said Dhruv and made to leave to prepare for battle.

“Please!” Lori and the others had arrived. “We need your help!”

Weran raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem to understand the situation you’re in, young lady. I’m not here to help.”

“No, I— I mean we…” Lori gestured to Siling, Miguel, and Calam. “We’re from Arcana. We came here to find ingredients for a potion to save my mother. She’s a Guardian who has been touched by a reaper when evacuating a city after the barrier had shattered.”

“If you stay with me, I can keep you out of the fight,” offered Weran. His attitude had softened after learning about the circumstances.

“No, that’s not.” Lori took a deep breath. “Whaka Terry, my brother, is still in the northeast. We got separated and we don’t have a way to get to him.”

“Terry?” Weran paused. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

Lori felt hope well up in her. “He once disappeared near a dungeon, and my aunt Brynn issued a Guild mission for clues. Perhaps—”

“I remember now,” interrupted Weran. “I had indeed taken an interest in that mission. The terms appeared quite profitable at first. So the boy reappeared? Interesting it may be, but not right now.”

Lori clung onto the hope that the man had been tempted by Brynn’s reward. “I’m sure that my aunt would offer similar terms for rescuing Terry now if you—”

“Don’t waste your breath.” Weran had turned away from Lori again. “Times have changed. Right now, the only currency that piques my interest is Tiv's blood.”

Disappointment washed over Lori and the others.

“I’m busy,” spat Weran. “You can stay by my side and no harm will come to you, but that is all I’m willing to offer at the moment.”

Lori clenched her fists and glared at Weran with teary eyes.

“We’ll find another way,” said Siling comfortingly and put her hand on Lori’s shoulder.

“Terry is tough,” added Miguel from the side. He glanced back towards the outpost, evidently getting itchy feet to prepare and get some distance from the dimensional gate.

Calam lowered his gaze and was not sure what to say. He looked at Weran and muttered in a faint, barely audible voice: “This isn’t right.”

“You can stuff that offer up your arse!” spat Lori resentfully. “Not helping and transporting monsters to a city. Thanks for nothing!” She turned around and stomped towards the Guardian outpost. “Bringing shame to Arcana.”

Siling and the others immediately followed.

Miguel momentarily halted his steps and looked at Weran. “Something is off with you, you know?” His gaze lingered on the elf’s eerie cloak. “That is a lot of innocent blood you are spilling.” Afterwards, Miguel hastened his steps and caught up with Lori.

Cadence and Elenec were the last to leave Weran.

“There is nothing innocent about Tiv.” Weran looked after Miguel and muttered coldly. “They chose to grant power to people like the Preacher and the cults.” His fierce eyes moved to Cadence's back. “Tiv’s acceptance of their madness has led to this point.”

Weran returned his attention to the dimensional gate.

“You may regret standing with the Tiv dogs, my fellow Arcanians,” muttered Weran unconcernedly. He sensed for the happenings on the other side of his dimensional gate. “This is a large one.”

***

“Crap.” Terry abruptly halted in his tracks.

Unless I’m mistaken, these are folk signatures. A village? Here?

Terry suppressed a yawn and retrieved his map and five-point inscription ring. He marked his best estimate for his current location and where he sensed the mana signatures matching folks.

“How in the Wastes did a village survive out here…?” Terry’s mind still felt muddled from exhaustion. “In the Wastes?” Terry had come a long way over the past few days and nights, but it was still wasted territory.

Terry had been lucky that many of his attempts to bait other enemies to fight the undead horde had succeeded. Terry had been exceedingly unlucky that there were many smaller hordes which had joined the large horde that was pursuing Terry doggedly.

Terry was still unsure how or why the horde was tracking him. He had been careful to cloak his mana and, for a time, he even wore the enchanted concealment ring from the bandits.

All to no avail.

Even though Terry had not been able to shake off the undead horde, he had managed to maintain some distance. He had not received any serious injuries when baiting other creatures, either. He was just exhausted and tired.

So so tired…

Terry shook his head forcefully and looked around pensively.

“If that’s a village, then…” Terry grimaced.

The mana signatures are few and not that strong…

Terry glanced back towards the long trail of death-aspected signatures that were following him. “If I get too close, some undead will surely pick up the scent. Seriously, how did a village survive here?” He narrowed his eyes. “Were they just lucky?”

Am I the bringer of bad luck? Terry bit his lips. “Do I risk involving them?”

Involuntarily, Terry recalled the scene in Arcana City’s public square in front of the Guild headquarters – when the dimensional mages announced their intentions to enact vengeance.

‘Our fellow citizens of Arcana did not “choose” this either, did they?’

It’s Tiv’s fault that the barrier broke. It’s Tiv’s fault that Ma Isille got hurt by a reaper. It’s Tiv’s fault that we had to look for a blood tulip.

If it wasn’t for the Preacher, and Willow, and— If it wasn’t for Tiv, then I would not be pursued by this wasted horde of undead.

Rage welled up in Terry and he stared furiously towards the village’s direction.

‘Two enemies is an opportunity.’

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

At this point, a picture emerged in Terry’s mind. It was the sole picture of the Veilbinder from the Path of a Mage. The picture did nothing to alleviate Terry’s fury, resentment, or thirst for vengeance. It did, however, remind him of something else.

Follow the kind of person you want to become.

Terry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I must have lost my kindness along the way, too.” He sighed.

‘All his apparent kindness was truly rooted in pride – pride in the person he aimed to be.’

Terry opened his eyes. He turned north to make a large detour around the village. He continued on his path with increased speed and newfound vigor.

***

After running for another hour, Terry paused in front of a large, strange body of orange water. It looked like a giant lake, but the liquid was moving as if it was a river.

Terry crouched down at the edge and narrowed his eyes. “Looks as if the water is flowing down somewhere,” muttered Terry. “Elevated part of a magic underground river?”

Terry looked towards the direction where he had sensed the village. “Does this have something to do with the village’s ability to persevere in this place?”

Terry summoned a rock from his storage anklet and kicked it into the orange water. The rock sizzled and visibly shrunk before it even sank down into the water.

“I take that as a yes,” mumbled Terry. “If that river surfaces in several locations that would limit the direction of possible threats for the village.”

Terry scrunched up his face. “Good for them, but what am I supposed to do now?”

Stepping over that means I won’t be able to return to ground level for quite some time. No more conserving mana by running on the ground. Stay in the sky or die.

Terry looked at the orange water with hesitation before turning north-northeast.

“Since I wanted to make a large circle around the village anyway, I still have time to make up my mind.” Terry took a deep breath and continued running along the riverbed.

***

After another hour of running, Terry abruptly stopped with wide eyes. He even placed a foot in front of him and activated the Immovable Object spell in order to rapidly come to a full stop.

Terry squinted nervously at the area in front of him. He glanced back and to the front again. The area in front differed little from the area behind him, except for the fact that the dry, earthy soil appeared drained of some color.

Normally, Terry might not have paid it much attention. Even though it was slightly odd, there was not much reason to suspect that such a minor change hinted at danger. After all, the sediment composition could be different for a vast range of innocuous reasons.

Could be.

And yet, Terry’s instincts screamed danger. He could not put his finger on it, but he felt that something appeared off in his mana sense.

“Creepy,” muttered Terry. “Well, shit.”

He glanced east… Orange water.

Then north… Creepy sensation.

He looked back. The undead horde was approaching from the southwest.

Terry yawned involuntarily and shook his head wearily. He exhaled sharply and contemplated his options.

“Orange water of death, creepy potential death trap, or backtracking through a horde of undead…?” Terry held his head and then rubbed his eyes. “Last one is out. The only reason I survived this long was because I did not have to engage the high-ranking creatures from the core of the horde.”

He glanced towards the horde. “If I go back, I will be forced to pass them.” He clicked his tongue. “Or worse, they’ll react by moving to cut off my path and surround me.

“Alright, magic acid river or monochrome wasteland?”

The water is definitely lethal. The wasteland is, so far, only confirmed creepy.

Terry smacked his lips several times. Eventually, he shrugged. “Since I would have to stay in the sky over the water anyway, I can just try the same in the wasteland. If I fall out of the sky for some reason, I take uncertain death over certain death.”

Mustering his resolve, Terry jumped up into the sky and began running over the creepy wasteland while staying as close to the orange water and moving east as far as possible.

***

For a while, Terry had been relieved to not encounter any trouble since he started moving above the creepy wasteland. Eventually, however, this only added to the area’s perceived creepiness. It wasn’t normal for Terry to not sense any mana corrupted or aspect beings for such a long time-span.

*BOOM* “Screee!” *Wram*

Terry halted in the air and whirled around towards the various noises that arrived from several different directions. The color drained from Terry’s face and he stared towards the direction of the undead horde. The runners had entered the pale wasteland… and the wasteland had reacted the moment their feet touched the ground.

“““Scree!””” Dozens of widowmaker hellspawn had surfaced from the earth. They used their powerful hind-legs to propel themselves forward and their four bladed-arms shredded the undead creatures.

*Rumble* Juggernaut hellspawn of various sizes emerged from pockets of bubbly, liquified ground. They jumped and ran on their knuckles to throw themselves into the fight and smash the death creatures into pulps.

Terry jerkily moved his head to stare at a gigantic bubbly mountain surfacing from the ground.

A moment later, horrific creatures that looked like six-legged, headless elephants with segmented torsos stomped forward from the mountain. Their necks opened towards a large spherical maw which was lined with countless spirals of sharp teeth. Underneath each of their feet, similar horrific maws were located.

Terry gulped. “Behemoth.”

The behemoths lifted their front pair of legs up while continuing to run with the other two pairs. They swatted the flying death aura creatures with their front feet and maws while stomping on those on the ground. Whenever the behemoths lifted their mawed feet, it became clear that all the death aura creatures underneath had been devoured.

“““Roar!””” Smaller creatures soared from the bubbly mountain into the sky. They were about the size of a dwarf and did not appear to have a torso. Instead, they had the head of a lion with feelers, multi-faceted eyes, and elongated canine teeth. There were two pairs of insect wings attached to the head’s back and two long, double-jointed limbs with sharp claws at the head’s bottom.

“Hellion,” muttered Terry with horror.

Well done, Terry! You walked right into a gigantic hellspawn hive. Good luck with that!

Terry felt like cursing his muddle-headed decision making. “Crap. Crap crap crap.”

Run! Run run run!

With no other option left, Terry continued on his initial path. He dashed forward while sticking close to the orange river. It was still the best available option, only now he was sure that there was certain death waiting for him, no matter where he fell.

Stick to the skies.

Terry clenched his teeth and warily eyed the flying hellspawn while his mana sense informed him about the battle’s increasing intensity.

One giant opportunity right there. Also, a giant death trap!

Terry could not even see the end of the hellspawn territory or the orange river.

The more undead arrived, the more hellspawn rose from the ground. The area from which the hellspawn surfaced became larger and larger. Like a ripple washing over the wasteland, the hellspawn hive became buzzing with activity.

Before long, a few of the hellions detected Terry’s presence and rushed towards him.

“Damn it,” cursed Terry and retrieved his barrier spears.

Terry dodged the claws of one of the hellspawns and slashed towards it with his spear. He channeled mana into his second spear. The barrier blocked an arrow of corroding liquid which one of the hellspawn had spat out.

Terry channeled mana into both of his spears and bidirectional attraction gloves. Barriers appeared as he pulled two hellions from opposite directions and right onto his spears. He moved the barriers to loosen the hellions on his spears and then flung the injured creatures into the acidic body of water, where they sizzled into nothingness.

Terry’s feeling of accomplishment at seeing the creatures die was quickly washed away by the input from his mana sense and eyes.

This won’t work. If I pause to fight, I’ll die. There’s too many of them.

Terry grit his teeth, burst his mana, and dashed forward in the sky.

Damn it! Terry cursed inwardly when he noticed the coil spring in his boot mechanism overextend from his forceful jumps. He could fix the damage by infusing some mana into the mana-reactive alloy, but this would not only increase his mana consumption but also slow him down.

Terry judged the situation in his mana sense and did not see any leeway to slow down. Perhaps, if he could increase the distance from the main battle between the undead horde and the hellspawn some more, but definitely not now.

Terry began retrieving and transfixing items from his storage anklets to move forward in the sky. He anxiously sank his consciousness into the storage anklets and cursed himself once more. He still had quite a number of junk items stored, but there was still space for more. If he had only collected them more diligently along the way. Terry blamed his muddle-headedness on his sleep-deprivation.

If I am going to die because I’m missing some damned pebbles or slices of wood, I’ll be pissed.

Terry exhaled sharply and tried to make better use of his vertical movement by jumping higher up before letting himself drop into his target direction without having to use another foothold for a while.

Unfortunately, this plan was quickly spoiled by interfering hellions that were rather too pleased with Terry’s predictable downward trajectory.

Terry frequently had to dodge or react quickly. He relied on his boot mechanism whenever possible, but he could not rely on it for longer periods of time or he would have to slow down too much.

He attempted collecting his used junk items with the help of his inscribed gloves. Sadly, this was not always possible because of hellion interference. It was also hard to judge the timing. The delay between attracting the item and using it as a foothold was too large.

In his desperation, Terry even considered using the incoming hellions as footholds…

Terry’s breathing sped up subconsciously. His sleep-deprived mind was reaching the limits of what he could keep track of simultaneously. Dodging, retrieving items, counter-attacking, transfixing footholds, collecting items, blocking with a barrier…

“Screee!” Several widowmakers began targeting Terry, and he had to move up and stay higher in the sky to avoid their attacks without wasting mana on disruption discharges.

Terry could conserve a lot of mana by relying on burst techniques, spherical discharge pulses, and mana reabsorption, but over time, it all still added up. Terry’s blood vessels became more and more visible. His eyes became bloodshot as pictures of his friends and family flickered through his mind again.

Terry did not know how long he had been holding on, but finally, he came up empty when trying to retrieve a junk item from his storage anklet. Terry reflexively relied on his boot mechanism and instantly overextended the coil spring due to his high speed.

Several arrows of corrosive liquid flew towards Terry before he had any chance to fix the coil spring. The sharp-toothed hellions were not far behind.

Terry’s mind raced, and it seemed as if time had slowed down…

Transfixing the fixed layer of the boots? Abrupt stop. May work to dodge, but then what? Not an option.

Dodge via fixed pearls? Abrupt stop. Same problem. Not an option.

Extension coil springs from my gauntlet mechanism? Too slow to take effect. Might even pull me backwards. Not an option.

Bidirectional attraction? Using what? Throwing and transfixing a throwing needle is too slow. Hellions? Then what? Getting bogged down here means death!

One by one, the different options were eliminated in Terry’s mind and a strange calmness overcame him as he closed his eyes…

*Thwack!* Terry felt a dull pain on his head. He had dodged a claw by instinct, but his helmet was still hit by the hellion’s limb.

Involuntarily, Terry recalled the moments that Sigille had rebuked him with her dreaded staff during the training sessions.

The blood rushed to Terry’s head.

For a split second, Terry saw his aunt Sigille as she ran through the sky above Syn City. Terry subconsciously channeled mana into the divine hammer inscription at his leg. His foot finally met some resistance, but the layer of mana shattered quickly.

‘The sheer grit that was the Divine Hammer.’ Terry heard Dhruv’s voice in his head and he continued channeling mana into the inscription.

Terry’s foot had already shattered half a dozen layers, but Terry recreated them as quickly as they shattered. Finally, a layer held and Terry charged forward with a roar while blocking attacks with his barrier spears.

When the time came for the next required foothold, Terry rapidly created several layers of divine mana underneath each other. While Terry wasn’t able to make them very sturdy, his practice allowed him to make up for it with his activation speed at close range.

Four layers broke, but before the fifth could break, Terry had already created new ones below. The eighth layer finally held, and Terry continued ahead.

Liberated from his movement restrictions, Terry burst his mana beyond his limits and accelerated further and further. He had no delusions about getting out of the problematic area quickly, but he now had hopes of getting away from the worst of it while the hellspawn were getting entangled with the undead horde.

As Terry was getting used to his newfound approach to rely on the divine hammer inscription for aerial movement, another scene involuntarily flashed through his mind.

‘Well done,’ said Sigille with a grin.

***