An instant of stillness wrapped the entire world, before real world reality took hold. Massive cracks covered the entire massive structure. Coming to his senses, Dallion leaped away as quickly as possible. That was the point at which the ruin was supposed to crumble. It didn’t. Instead, it burst like an overripe tomato.
Roars mixed with screams as chunks of rock and dragon body parts filled the air. Having grown for Moons know how long, the realm of the dragon nest had surpassed the space in its real world equivalent. It was rather fortunate that the Order of Twelve Suns had gone with the realm destruction plan instead of taking on the dragon nest directly. Even without the ancient dragon, there was no way they could win against so many of them. Even now, they’d face a difficult time mopping up with the surviving beasts. That wasn’t Dallion’s main concern, though.
Bursting into instances, he looked around, focusing on Abla and the traitors’ locations. His fingers moved on their own, summoning his whip blade and aura sword.
“Guard Abla,” he told the whip blade guardian, rushing in the direction of the nearest traitor.
The man had just readjusted to the new reality, taking Dallion’s attack head on. Sun gold tendrils shout out from his clothes, darting at Dallion like venomous snakes.
PERMANENT EFFECT - BLEEDING
You have been scarred by the attack. The scar will continue bleeding in the real world until the status is removed.
The status continues to be in effect in the real world.
A red rectangle flashed before Dallion’s eyes, just as the affected instance faded away.
Permanent effects? He leaped back.
The bleeding wasn’t a big issue. He knew several spells that could quickly deal with that, not to mention that, at his level, he could spark the wound out of existence. Sadly, the process was going to take a few days—not something that could be done during a fight. Additionally, if the armor could affect one instance in such fashion, it could do the same on more.
“Die!” the traitor shouted, following up Dallion’s stepping back with a point attack.
At this distance, there was no chance of escape. Using every ounce of speed within his body, Dallion tried to evade, only managing half way. Force that would shatter mountains struck him in the shoulder, sending him flying back.
The pain made him feel as if his entire arm had been torn off… yet it wasn’t. His hand was right there, sore, but very much attached. No bones were sticking out, he could still move it about, even his grip hadn’t loosened.
This must be like what it is to have a body trait of over a hundred, he thought, still flying backwards.
His reaction trait made him feel as if he were moving through the air in slow motion. The ground itself appeared to move along inch by inch. Fifty feet away, the traitor remained in the same position, sword thrust forward.
Any other time, Dallion would have found it amusing. Not today. Today, he had enough of insignificant worms, throwing a wrench in far greater matters for petty, selfish reasons.
Ignoring the pain, Dallion cast a series of five-circle healing spells to deal with his immediate injuries. The pain quickly subsided. That was not all. Almost in the same motion, Dallion combined his scholar and magic spellcraft skills to cast a flight spell to counter the force pulling him back. A thousandth of a second later he repeated the spell, only this time propelling himself back at the traitor.
Concentrating on the man’s leg, Dallion threw his aura sword forward. The moment his fingers released the hilt, he slid all blocker rings off his fingers.
Where’s Eury? he asked within his realm.
Dal? A surprised Veil responded. I thought you were—
Is she alright?
Yeah, she’s fine. There was a momentary pause. She’s still discussing matters in one of the Order’s monasteries.
Tell her to get back to Alliance right away! We might be at war with the empire soon.
In the real world, Dallion’s aura sword hit its target, sending the traitor to the ground. From his perspective, reality had played a trick on his senses, since the person who he’d hit with a point attack had inexplicably changed direction and was now flying back. The sun gold tendrils attempted to compensate for the injury, trying to prop up their owner.
“Stop!” Dallion ordered, using the full effect of his music skills to overwhelm both person and item guardian with an aura of authority.
The tendrils froze, leaving the traitor semi-propped up like a modern art display.
“How many are there?” Dallion moved closer.
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The traitor’s mouth twitched. The pressure he was under didn’t allow him not to reply. Apparently, something else did, since his eyes suddenly turned, rendering him lifeless.
His item guardians didn’t fare much better. Within seconds, the sun gold armor broke up, dropping the corpse to the ground as it shattered under its weight. Weapons, gear, even clothes ripped up before Dallion’s very eyes. Everything that stood even a remote chance of helping him find an answer to the question had been utterly, and irreparably destroyed. It seemed that the archbishop was right.
Looking away from the body, Dallion refocused his attention on the immediate surroundings. The remnants of the group had engaged the surviving dragons. Three people—more traitors by the looks of it—were trying to get to Abla, who lay wounded on the ground. Judging by the state of his armor, he had been among those unfortunate enough to be hit by the exploding ruin in the instants after returning to the real world.
The Count was diligently protecting him, facing off against two of the attackers, while Pierce was doing his best to protect both of them from any dragon taking advantage of their weakness.
Astra was nowhere to be seen. And as for Tors, he remained dumbfounded on the ground, mouth wide open, refusing to believe what was happening.
It’s a lot different from scrolls and realm recreations, isn’t it? Dallion grumbled internally as he flew towards the nearest threat.
They are prepared! Gleam said, as she kept slashing at a tall man in sky silver armor. All of them have illusion armor that’s beyond me.
Return to my realm, Dallion ordered, summoning his harpsisword.
A large dragonlet foolishly roared in his direction. Larger than most of the younglings, it felt confident enough to attack a human.
“Don’t!” Dallion said with his voice of authority.
The dragonlet froze, its very being filled with terror.
Dallion didn’t pay it any further attention, throwing his harpsisword at one of the men engaged with Abla. The weapon struck something inches from the target’s back. As Gleam had said, there was an armor of illusion preventing the attack from proceeding further. The ring that Pierce had given out was doing a great job of keeping the artifact gear hidden. Yet, Giaccia was more than a simple harpsisword. The blade spun around, a thick layer of water covering it. Millions of tendrils burst out, surrounding the man, like in a spider’s cocoon. While the armor remained unbreakable, the water threads prevented its owner from moving. The hold strengthened, like a boa constrictor wrapped around a deer.
“Die!” Tors shouted in panic and anger.
Music strands of pain and extreme confusion went through the air, as the Elazni regained part of his courage. They weren’t the traitor’s main cause for concern. Too weak to deal him any serious damage, they merely caused some inconvenience, yet they didn’t have to. The safeguards placed within the turncoat’s realm triggered, killing him in the same fashion the previous one had died.
“Stay down!” Dallion told his cousin.
No sooner had he said it, when the Count’s blade exploded into thousands of small metal slivers, showering the two remaining enemies like explosive shrapnel. All the men’s items and gear crumbled as they fell lifelessly to the ground. Someone had put in a lot of effort to organize this, and it wasn’t the nymphs.
“Are there any more?” the old hunter asked, as fragments flew back towards him, reconstituting the blade of his weapon.
“Don’t think so.” Dallion looked around.
Other than Pierce, there were only a few remaining members of the inner sanctum left, all focusing on surviving. Even if a message had been sent out to the rest of the Order, the lesser members could do nothing against the present threat. That was if they even bothered to show up.
Casting a large aether sphere around the area, Dallion rushed to Abla.
“How is it?” he asked. He could see signs of bleeding, though no indication where the blood was coming from. As he reached for the armor, the metal plates reacted.
“No use,” Abla said with a cough. “It will attack anyone close until I’m healed.”
“Must be some heirloom.”
“It’s more than that. It’s one of the Order’s early creations. Wizdom from the ages, combined with otherworldly knowledge.” He added with a dry laugh.
“How long till you heal?”
Abla didn’t say.
Carefully, Dallion cast a healing spell. A green pattern surrounded the duke’s shoulder. The armor didn’t seem to mind, although there was no telling how effective the magic was.
“We need to get back to the palace.” The Count approached. “If there are traitors in the inner sanctum, there’ll be more among the rest.”
“Where’s Astra?”
A rather good question that had only one answer. Nothing was capable of fleeing the area that fast. The only reason for her to be gone was if she’d been devoured by dragons.
“Pierce is fine,” the Count replied diplomatically.
“Tors is useless,” Dallion added. “It’s only us two. Feeling any better?”
“I think so.”
“Good, so it only blocks hostile magic. I’ll try to levitate you, then we’ll fly out of here.”
“We must destroy the nest.”
“Forget the nest! Forget the dragons! People are trying to kill you! If you don’t return to the capital, they’ll succeed.”
It’s by no means certain that the emperor is behind this, dear boy, Adzorg was quick to point out. I’m not saying that Abla isn’t a political threat, just not to the emperor. Maybe in a hundred years he would be, if the emperor has no heir, but as things stand there are others that would gain more. Namely, the remaining dukes and duchesses.
An adolescent dragon slammed into Dallion’s aether sphere, shattering it completely. It wasn’t a particularly difficult feat—Dallion had cast the spell mainly to discourage other people from charging in. Dragons were a whole different matter.
“You two keep him safe,” Dallion turned around to face the creature.
Barely had he said so, when a beam of purple light struck the dragon from above, going through it like a hot needle through butter.
“What would you do without me?” Pierce asked from a fair distance away. Possibly, he was going to add something more when the ground beneath the ruins shot up like a geyser. Rocks and magic filled the sky once more, cutting anything in their path.
A full set of magic armor covered the mage, likely triggered by the attack. Sadly, that did nothing to stop his quick demise. Thousands of stone fragments chipped away at the aether covering him, then proceeded to shred his defenseless body.
Purple lightning shot into the sky, bringing with it an entity far more terrifying that any of them had seen so far.
“Freeze,” a female voice ordered.
Intense pressure fell upon every living creature in the area. Dragons petrified mid-flight, falling like stones to the ground. Even Dallion felt the weight of mountains push him down. The level of his traits helped him withstand the attack with little issue, though not everyone else was as fortunate. The Count visibly struggled to remain standing, as did what was left of the inner sanctum.
“You’re the one, aren’t you?” the dragon asked, looking at Dallion with its massive purple eyes. Twice as large as any dragon they’d seen, it took a step out of the crater that had been the ruins, its bright amber scales glistening like gems.
The attack upon the nest within the ruin’s realm had managed to wound it, burning off part of its wing, but that was all it had achieved.
“So predictable.” The creature extended its good wing. “I told you I’d be waiting, and you still came, rushing like a lamb to open the wolf’s prison.”
Concentrating as much as he could, Dallion tried to see through the dragon’s illusion and get a sense of its skills. The only thing he could see was a single thing: Great Dragon Aquilequia.