Ethan rose to his feet, alarmed. “What kind of incident?”
“It’s the disease, my lord. Someone infected has... changed. You need to see this for yourself.”
Ethan turned to Montague apologetically, but the older man was already standing.
“Well,” Montague said, his voice grim but his eyes alight with a strange excitement, “it seems our business will have to wait. Shall we go see what fresh hell awaits us in your charming little town?”
Without waiting for a response, Montague strode towards the door, leaving Ethan to hurry after him. As they rushed through the corridors, Ethan thought of the possibilities. What could have happened? What did Roland mean by ‘changed’?
They reached the bright sunlight of the town square, and Ethan found his questions answered in the most horrifying way possible. In the center of the square, surrounded by dispersing, terrified onlookers, stood what had once been a man.
The creature’s skin glittered with an unnatural, crystalline sheen. Its eyes now pulsed with a light that wasn’t quite humane or intelligent. As Ethan watched in horror, the thing that had been a man opened its mouth and let out a sound that was part scream, part beautiful, terrible song.
Beside him, Montague let out a low whistle. “Well, my boy,” he said, his voice oddly calm, “I do believe your little sickness problem just got a whole lot more interesting.”
Ethan could only stare, his mind struggling to process the nightmare before him. Whatever this disease was, whatever force was behind it, he realized with a sinking feeling that they were facing something far beyond their understanding.
As the crystalline creature in the square began to move, its movements jerky and inhuman, Ethan frowned deeply. “Roland,” Ethan said coldly, “evacuate the square. Get everyone indoors. And send for Jack immediately. He’s going to love this little sample.”
Roland hurried off to carry out his orders, and Ethan turned to Montague. Ethan wondered for a moment why Roland would leave him alone so easily, knowing that he was technically supposed to be his personal guard, but then he recalled the identity of the old man beside him.
He fought in the last war and earned himself one of the most prominent baronies near the capital, but refused and returned to his family territory to rule it. If that wasn’t proof enough, Ethan could see that although the older man’s face was grim, there was a glint in his eye that spoke of excitement rather than fear. Excitement, thrill, nostalgia.
“Well, Baron,” Ethan said, a humorless smile on his face, “I believe our negotiations will have to wait. It seems we have a more pressing matter to attend to.”
Montague nodded, his hand moving. A sword materialized into his hand out of thin air. “Indeed we do, young Lockheart. Indeed we do. Shall we dance with this crystalline devil and see what secrets it holds?”
Ethan was about to reply but got cut off given that the creature in the square let out another unearthly cry. Ethan’s hand went to his own sword, drawing it with a metallic hiss.
The people had long dispersed, but Ethan spotted a woman’s mangled body near the creature—with her arm chewed off and her chest split open, heart... eaten, if the blood streaks on the creature’s maw were of any indication.
Disgusted, Ethan frowned, then blinked.
The scene flickered.
The monster and Montague switched places in an instant. Now, the monster’s crystalline claws were slashing down on Ethan. In that moment, Ethan looked death straight in the eye. Adrenaline rocketed into his veins and everything slowed down for but a breath. As the creature’s claws neared, Ethan could see the way its skin caught the light, refracting it in impossible patterns.
It was beautiful, in a terrifying way.
In that split second, he drew water from the pouch at his hip, simultaneously manipulating the air around him. The water whipped up in a blink, forming a thin sheet before him. Simultaneously, he compressed the air in front of the water, creating a high-pressure barrier. As the creature’s claws struck, the water dispersed the impact across the pressurized air, effectively creating a shock-absorbing shield. Furthermore, Ethan also conjured a condensed fireball that he exploded on the creature’s arm, blowing it off course. The combination of incompressible liquid, change of direction, and compressed gas dissipated the force of the blow, turning what would have been a lethal strike into a forceful push that sent Ethan skidding backward.
What he learned later, however, was that what he’d done hadn’t been enough, and had Baron Montague not reacted quickly he would have gotten injured. The old man had erected a thick layer of the ground into a spike to shield in front of what Ethan had tried to do in the little time he had to think, then as Ethan was hurtled back, Montague had sent a wave of earth spikes crashing into the creature, which exploded out and encased the monster in the spot. Ethan, meanwhile, winced, his elbow bruised and bloody. Fucking hell.
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“Any suggestions on how to approach this, Baron?” Ethan asked as he stood up, glancing at the old man who’d appeared beside him in an instant.
Montague chuckled, a sound that seemed entirely out of place given the situation. “Oh no, my boy. I’m just here to observe. Consider this a test of your mettle. Show me what you can do. Though, I must admit, that was rather unexpected. Strange ability, that. Interesting, too.”
Ethan gritted his teeth, realizing he was on his own for this fight. He took a deep breath, centering himself. Fire, water, air—these were the elements at his disposal. But how to use them effectively against this crystalline monstrosity?
Cracks formed on the earth-prison.
Think, Ethan, he chided himself. What do you know about crystals?
Most crystals were vulnerable to sudden temperature changes, weren’t they?
The prison broke.
Acting on this thought, an intense burst of fire exploded from him to the ice—more specifically, the creature—directing it at the creature’s outstretched arm which had been frozen in place by Montague earlier.
Ethan ramped up the heat to the point it should be blistering. For a moment, it seemed to work—the creature’s crystalline skin began to glow red-hot.
But then, the glowing arm suddenly cooled, steam hissing off its surface as it drew heat from the air around it. The creature let out another of its terrible cries, this one sounding almost... pleased?
“Fascinating,” Montague murmured from somewhere behind Ethan. “It seems to be able to regulate its own temperature.”
Ethan didn’t have time to ponder this as the creature attacked again, its movements faster now, more fluid—as if it were adapting to its own body. He dodged one blow, then another, his sword flashing out to parry a third. The clash of metal on crystal sent vibrations up his arm, nearly numbing it.
As he fought, Ethan tried to focus on his Innate Ability, [Sever]. He knew, theoretically, that he should be able to cut through almost anything with it. But how? In the heat of battle, with the creature’s relentless attacks keeping him on the defensive, he couldn’t seem to grasp the concept. A glancing blow caught Ethan on the shoulder, sending him spinning. He used the momentum to put some distance between himself and the creature, his mind working furiously. Small cracks appeared on the creature’s body as Ethan fought it with his all.
But, the cracks began to seal themselves.
“Remarkable self-repair capabilities,” Montague commented, sounding for all the world like he was watching an interesting scientific experiment rather than a life-or-death battle.
Ethan barely heard him, too focused on avoiding the creature’s next attack. As he ducked under a sweeping arm, he felt something shift within him. For just a moment, he saw—not with his eyes, but with some other sense he could only assume to be [True Perception]. He saw the connections between things, the invisible bonds that held the world together.
He saw threads.
He couldn’t quite make sense of them.
However, his sword’s tip latched onto one. And acting on instinct, Ethan swung his sword, imbuing it with his will, his desire to sever.
The blade passed through the creature’s arm like it was made of smoke.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then, with a sound like shattering glass, the arm fell away, dissolving into glittering dust before it hit the ground.
Ethan stared in shock.
The creature let out a roar of pain and fury, and before Ethan’s eyes, crystals began to grow from the stump of its arm, rapidly reforming the lost limb.
“Oh ho!” Montague exclaimed. “Now that was interesting! But it seems our crystalline friend here isn’t going down so easily.”
Ethan retreated, watching as cracks formed on the creature’s crystalline form as it healed its arm. So, it didn’t heal, it only redistributed the crystalline thing? That would’ve been an interesting thing to ponder had Ethan not been shocked out of his mind. Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck! What was that! He’d managed to use [Sever], he knew instinctively, but he couldn’t replicate it again. He’d also managed to trigger [True Perception] and combined, the duo were killer.
But he couldn’t replicate it. He knew.
The “understanding” had come and gone like a fleeting dream, leaving him frustrated and uncertain.
Is this that damn “understanding” which was being lost in translation?
The creature was advancing again, and Ethan knew he needed a new strategy. The crystal structure is very weak right now. It seems [Sever] did more than just fuck up its hand. Hmm. Maybe I can easily break it? Let’s try something new.
Ethan began to create a high-pressure vortex, filling it with water vapor. As the creature lumbered forth, he released the spell, engulfing it in a swirling mist.
Then, with careful control, Ethan forced it all into the cracks and began to rapidly change the pressure within the vortex. High pressure, low pressure, back and forth in quick succession. The rapid changes caused the water vapor to condense and evaporate repeatedly, creating countless tiny shockwaves.
The effect on the creature was immediate and dramatic. Its crystalline body began to vibrate, the ordered structure of its form disrupted by the constant pressure changes. Cracks appeared all over its surface, spreading and multiplying.
Ethan pressed his advantage, increasing the intensity of the pressure changes as he growled, a streak of blood dripping from his nose, his head pounding, as he conjured a bunch of tiny fireballs around the monster and simultaneously caused them to combust.
What happened next was a spectacular sight to see, but Ethan wasn’t focused on that. He was focused on the enemy.
The creature stumbled, its movements becoming erratic. It let out a sound that might have been a scream of pain, but it was distorted, breaking apart like its body.
“Brilliant!” Montague called out, genuine admiration in his voice. “I wouldn’t have thought of that! And it wouldn’t have worked, either, had this creature been slightly higher level. You’re lucky it’s only a level 1. Its crystalline form’s defense seems to be directly related to its level. Not only that, your fancy attack earlier seems to have made it so very easy to crack!”
What the fuck?! Only level 1?
Ethan didn’t respond, too focused on maintaining the spell. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the effort, but he could see it was working. The creature was breaking apart, pieces of its crystalline form falling away and dissolving.
Then, something changed. The creature’s eyes, those pulsing, inhuman orbs, suddenly flared with a blinding light.
The scene flickered—
—and Ethan found himself switching places with the monster, about to face the very vortex he’d designed for his enemy.