Chapter 15: The Daughters of Nix
III
Silence. As I clawed my way out from under the dead snake all I heard was silence. The crowd were slack jawed, frozen in stunned silence. The two ladies whose voices had been booming around the arena and whose mana had been, until this point, erratic yet energetic where stood, statuesque and in complete silence.
The stillness was cracked by a high, keening wail, which accelerated into a hissing scream. Looking up I saw the snake lady, her head cocked back in rage. I felt the mana building in her throat and knew what would come. I ignored her and hoped her compatriot would stop her before anything truly bad happened - after all if they chose to kill me there would be nothing I could do. As the sounds of battle broke out at the top of the arena and the crowd seemed to burst into violence in sympathy I shifted attention to my prize.
First, was the venom - stuffed with ice mana and a potent poison to boot - this was no doubt a precious find. Minor Finesse expired just as I was undergoing the delicate operation of removing the alveoli with my rusty implement, the sudden lack of movemental assistance I pierced the gland and a snowstorm burst anew from my location, momentarily drowning out the cacophony of fighting. Debris fell down from the earth shattering conflict taking place at the top of the stand, I rubbed my head where a bit of stone had struck it then returned to the job at hand.
Recasting the physical enhancement spell using its weaker, yet longer lasting, spell-shape I concentrated and set to work on the second venom sac; determined not to make the same mistake. I had to focus to ignore the scream of one snake beastkin, who was thrown from the stands by her fellow competitors and more taxing on my mind, the sudden shift in the behaviour of the crowd.
Were they being controlled by the two god(ish) beings? Were they a part of those two?
Shit! A slip in attention caused a slip in the hand and I nicked the gland, thankfully the consequences weren’t as dire as before, only bathing my arm in a constant stream of cold air. I chided myself for the lapse before finishing the procedure and putting away the organ in my spatial bag to preserve its freshness; I couldn’t wait to create new spells with that.
On my way out of the creature's gullet I spied the two front fangs, they were sharp and imbued with a small amount of ice mana. The former feature would have made them perfect for removing the alveoli, or at least a damn sight better than the dull and rusty dagger I had been using. I sighed, having missed the ideal tools in my haste to retrieve the rarest ingredient. One might think the second law of magic, like repels like, would have made it very difficult to use the one ice infused body part to remove the other, however, there was an exception when it came to magically imbued parts from the same creature. The working theory, last I checked, stated there was a sympathy between the organs which came from sharing the same blood. I didn’t entirely believe this explanation as I had tried making a homunculus from a variety of different parts from the same species of magical beastmen, and even though I could get the blood flowing the interactions between the same type, but slightly different, mana signatures always killed the creatures before a full moon cycle. Whatever the reason, like always repelled like, unless it was mana from the same source. This made magically imbued armour more expensive as it either had to be all done by the same enchanter, or if one is using naturally magical materials they would have to source them all from the same monster.
The screaming and clawing which was still being amplified by the announcing spell seemed to raise in volume so I plugged my ears with the torn off fingers of the discarded hand I had found, before getting to work wiggling free the two front fangs of the snake - they would make perfect daggers. I wedged the bone plugs in deeper as I heard a scream from the stands above:
“Defiler!” The words cut short by a punch to the throat, which would be a tough target to miss on a snakekin. I chuckled at the familiar nickname before getting back to work. It didn’t take long to remove and clean up my new weapons and I was soon searching for the next resource this carcass contained. Perhaps I may have avoided some of this deitie’s ire if I had given my opponent a fair fight, but as I have said before I have a strong distaste for cruelty to animals and drawing out that fight would have done just that.
Determined to respect the dead by using every part of them I looked for the section of most value remaining. The tail held a needle like spike made from a form of permafrost, the dimensions were similar to a spear and it was brimming with ice mana. With a smile on my face I started hacking at the base of the natural weapon with my new daggers, humming a long-forgotten cheery tune under my breath.
This will be perfect for testing the merits of a staff against a wand. I thought to myself, the head of a bearwoman rolling past my feet. The argument had been one which had interested me for some time.
I’ll have to be careful not to break it. I thought as the fragile material cracked with my every swing. Eventually I was left with a stick of permafrost of the perfect length for a staff, the base webbed with cracks, and tiny pieces flaking off every time I moved it.
The arena wide battle was still raging, the two at its centre had been fighting pretty much exclusively with physical attacks, craters pocked the stands wherever their exchanges took place. The woman whose skin tone matched #FFFFFF was the stronger of the two, despite the pair blurring about the coliseum she had managed to keep the green scaled madwoman off the sand. The fighters appeared to be slowing however, the bout would likely conclude soon. Thankfully I had taken the best components from the corpse and the only thing of any use which remained were the scales. They held magic, though not much, perhaps enough to make a jacket which kept one warm in a blizzard. Nonetheless I was severely lacking in spell components so I set to work gouging them out one by one with my snake-tooth daggers and placing them in my black velvet pouch, making sure to avoid damaging them as much as possible.
The two possible gods ran out of steam when I was only a quarter of the way done degloving the snake, half of its white exterior now a fleshy pink.
“Fine, fine, you win?” the green tailed snake lady admitted in sibilant defeat, the voice - still amplified by their magic - echoing around the stadium. Even so I likely wouldn’t have heard it with my bone plugs installed if it weren't for the sudden stillness which overtook the crowd. Where before they were apoplectic with frenzied rage - baring teeth and fang, now they were calm, almost placid, as they took their seats; as if nothing had happened. I stopped in my work at the change in atmosphere, beginning to suspect there was some connection between the crowd and the goddesses.
“You know the rules sister, directly killing a mortal would violate the treaty,” the ghostly lady chided, not even out of breath. I looked about at the truly decimated coliseum (about ten percent was destroyed) and found the pair back where they had started, upon their dais.
“Then let there be war, you would enjoy it just as much as me,” she hissed, bitter at her defeat.
“That I would,” she agreed with a nod, “but our mother would not be pleased…” she trailed off, the implication enough to make her sister shiver. I blanched at the news, I knew the pair must be blood thirsty to have created such an elaborate trap to toy with mortals but I had been relying on the fairer of the two to keep me safe.
“Look - look at what that thing, that Zombie,” she said, spitting the word, “has done to my kin. If someone were to skin Pelagius would you not rip them apart and send their souls to our mother’s domain?”
“It does not matter, the rules are the rules,” the first sister reiterated, more annoyed. She took a breath and lowered her combat stance, “If you want this mortal to face a true death then you need only ensure his next opponent is too strong for him,” she consoled. I didn’t like the way they were discussing my fate so casually, although my hands slowly continued reaving the next scale without my conscious thought.
“STOP THAT YOU WORM!” the scaly deus shouted. Momentarily turning her attention from her sister; I did so. She calmed herself, still on one knee after surrendering, took a breath and addressed her sister - who had worn a disturbing smile throughout the exchange, “it’s only a Lv.25 mortal adjacent creature, with no subclass. A Lv.24 magical beast, a snake no less, should have been able to destroy it with ease.” Anger bubbling at the last she stood once more, just less than half of the remaining spectators did so in sympathy.
A glowing white blade, razorsharp, appeared in the pale lady’s hand; resting upon the snakekin’s shoulder, next to her neck. All traces of a mocking smile gone from the stronger god’s features. The weaker god was instantly cowed, she and the other fans lowered back down in unison.
More words were spoken between the pair but I wasn’t listening. That sword, which had disappeared, was far too interesting. Frantically I retrieved my notebook from my bag and started jotting down everything I had seen, I wasn’t overly concerned with whatever politics this world's gods were up to but that sword… It contained a stable mix of both holy and unholy mana - something I had proven to be impossible. The third law of magic, opposites attract, meant that an item imbued with two types of mana would have that mana move to the same point and when the two interacted they would annihilate each other. The only stability that had been found when trying to use something with two opposing mana types was natural products. Much like the second law of magic the third seemed to be violated exclusively by the natural world, hence the existence of dual magi with opposing mana types. Creating an item which used non opposing mana types, for example wind and fire, was easy.
When I had seen the sword it had appeared a glowing white with golden undertones but even from this distance I could see the dark purple, unholy core beneath. I sketch a cross section as I had seen it. Despite the proximity of the two opposing forces they never quite touched, suspended and moving like oil on water. It was mesmerising and the memory of it filled my mind as I tried to recall and record every minute detail of the structure. The material which supported the interaction appeared to be a type of crystal, I was unable to determine its weight given the deceptive strength of the divine, but the mad god woman had held it with a casual ease. I didn’t even want to think of the logistics involved in making such a thing; getting a celestial and a fallen to work in tandem to fuel the project, then again politics was never my strong suit. I was just finishing up the annotations on my diagram when the snake I had been standing atop vanished. The area was cleared in the blink of an eye and looking up I saw that the stands and the people on them were once more whole, the stage was set for the:
“Second round is about to begin!” pause for applause, “This is the first competitor The Throne has selected in more than a century that has made it past the first, so the second fighter will be someone rather special. A soul we were quite fortunate to acquire, a fighter, a peacekeeper, the one, the only, The Paladin!” The audience stamped their feet, hooting and hollering in support. Once more the iron gate rose and the clank of heavy armoured feet could be heard coming from the darkness of the tunnel.
☠
I readied myself, hurriedly putting away my notes and withdrawing my new staff, a venom sac, and a couple of the snake's scales. The crowd went silent once more, leaving only the sound of weighted steps. Reluctantly, I turned my attention from the two gods and stepped, straight backed, to the centre of the arena, ready to meet my next challenger - however challenging they may be. My Life Sense picked up nothing as I heard the figure approach, but using my Soul Manipulation I was able to see the hazy outline of a knight, walking through the darkness.
How is this possible? I thought, Even undead appear in my Life Sense, thanks to the tiny life forms that live on them. Is this ‘Paladin’ using some kind of hiding skill, do they serve a deceptive god?… were these two gods of trickery? No, they seem more like goddesses of violence… maybe he is a…”
The first part of him to poke out into the light and my suspicion was confirmed. The black plate which covered the appendage was slightly transparent, nay, the entire figure was transparent. The Ghost stepped forth with confidence laying his foot into the sunlight. He wore a complete set of black plate, not an inch of skin visible. His movements were mechanical but still held remembered grace, a dangerous combination. There was the motif of a skull etched onto the knight’s helm in a white scratchy design.
A Paladin of death? I wondered. Curiously the sun didn’t seem to affect him, he had no protective enchantment similar to my Sunscreen, the light just seemed to refuse to affect him.
This would be a difficult fight without my Soul Manipulation skill. I thought, grateful for the unsettling ability. As I had experienced before, ghosts couldn’t be affected by the physical, and magical attacks only disrupted them for a time, unless the spell was far more powerful than the enemy. With that thought in mind I used Identify:
Name: Identify skill too low to determine
Title: Identify skill too low to determine
Race: Identify skill too low to determine
Class: ******** Lv.100
Sub-classes: Identify skill too low to determine
Age: Identify skill too low to determine
Skills: Identify skill too low to determine
Spells: Identify skill too low to determine
Attributes: Identify skill too low to determine
Congratulations:
* Identify has reached Lv.6
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
I managed to maintain my posture as the ghostly Paladin neared.
“This bout is sure to afford plenty of entertainment, we have had The Paladin for a number of years and he has never disappointed,” the equally ghostly woman announced with a fervour in her voice. The combatant came to stand inches away, much as the snake had before, waiting for the signal. Not willing to see what the gods would be able to do if I violated their unspoken ‘rules’ I chose to stand and wait also.
“Enough of this, Begin” The snake lady hiss-bellowed, annoyance heavy in her tone.
Not wasting any time this go around I launched myself forward at the undead. He didn’t react as I layed a splayed palm on his breastplate. I used Soul Manipulation to compress the figure into a ball… I used Soul Manipulation to compress… I used Soul Manipulation…
Nothing happened. The looming figure looked down at me, my leg behind me as I’d sprinted straight into him with no effect.
Oh… Shit! I was all I had time to think as The Paladin picked me up by the wrist and threw me bodily. The next thing I knew I was seeing stars, slumped against the barrier of the arena. Sound came back to me with a cacophony of cheering, I rubbed my head as I tried to stand. My vision swam and it took several attempts to get to my feet, the items which I had prepared were scattered about me. I couldn’t have been out long as the Paladin was still near the centre of the arena, seeming content to approach at a measured pace. His steps were stiff and golemotic. I may have been imagining it but I thought I saw a flicker of pity in the thing's eyes right before I was sent flying.
If my enemy was going to give me time, I was obliged to use it. Soul Manipulation, my trump card against ghosts, seemed not to work on something so powerful, what's more he could interact directly with physical objects. That made him a poltergeist. I should have expected as much, a knight that couldn’t fight wouldn’t have made a strong opponent. As he slowly made his way menacingly over, I staggered about collecting the ingredients I had dropped. My foe had travelled about half the distance before I was finally able to try my idea. I wouldn’t be able to overwhelm this poltergeist with mana, certainly not with my burned out left arm, but I might be able to win by incapacitation… if that were allowed.
Using the Icy scales for rigidity, the venom sac for aerial dispersion, and the ice spike staff to amplify the working I started the spell creation. My right hand alone directed - the first layer, my chanting - the second, my legs - the third, and my belly dancing - the last. This would be the first fourth layer spell this body would cast but thanks to the strengthening of my mana system it should be able to manage it with little damage. The knight was about a quarter of the arena’s length away by the time the preparations for the spell were complete. I smiled as I added the final touch, letting the Soul Manipulation skill flow throughout my mana, as I pointed the spiky staff towards The Paladin. I had no idea if it would work, but I was always eager to learn, and besides, any normal spell would just pass straight through the poltergeist - maybe disrupting him slightly.
The spell formed about the point of my newly acquired staff, a slowly growing ball of dense, spinning, white snow, contained within its spherical structure. My adversary did not halt in his robotic march.
“Whatsss the Hell wasss that?!” came an incredulous hiss through the tannoy spell. “There are no ice spells, he cannot hide that from our System access.” The last said almost pleadingly to her sister, looking for answers.
“Something interesting…” her relative returned, a sinister yet coy cadence to her voice.
The magical construction leapt forth, taking with it some of the power of the skill which I had let infuse every part of my physical being. Again The Paladin did not err in his advance, seeming not to notice the coming attack. The spell met with the ghostly form of my opponent and I crossed my fingers.
With the sound of shattering glass, the spell struck the poltergeist and I fisted the air in success. From the point of impact a storm of white burst forth, obscuring the black knight from mine, and everyone else's vision. The crowd hushed, waiting with bated breath for the reaction; I, no different.
“Cheater!” the deity of a reptilian persuasion accused loudly when the mist finally cleared and The Paladin was once more visible; encased in a thick block of ice.
“Calm yourself,” her sister instructed, clearly knowing something her fellow god did not.
Congratulations:
* Soul Manipulation has reached Lv.11
* You have learned Glacius Solero
Something felt different about the skill, much as others had done since I had passed the lv.10 threshold. Somehow I now knew that I could turn the spirits of my dead into ghostly allies… an interesting ability.
Notification:
* The minor evolution of the Soul Manipulation - ghost raiser - has been changed. Soul Manipulation now possesses the - ghost buddies - minor evolution.
* Alert - subject has been made aware of the minor Skill evolutions, these are not normally known to subjects. As such System status has been raised, SuperUser is now available to purchase with 100 SP.
* I think this skill evolution better suits your needs. Make sure to use it wisely. And do play nice with my nieces – D.
My stomach churned, it was as if some invisible hand had reached into my abdomen and began fondling my innards, an intensely uncomfortable experience. There was no doubt now, this mysterious D had to be a god. What’s more, it would appear that he truly did have the level of control over the system that he had implied in his previous message. This gave birth to an explosion of questions but I forced them down. I would get out of my current predicament before finding more trouble for myself.
I was just about to approach my newest test subject when a sudden cracking shattered the stunned silence of the coliseum. Cold air poured forth from widening splits in the icy prison and in quick succession the once stone-like permafrost turned to little more than frozen pebbles. The knight continued his inevitable walk as if nothing had happened. The crowd went wild for their champion.
I was about to concoct another spell, since he didn’t seem to be in any hurry when a voice came booming out from the commentator’s box.
“Destroy him!” the woman who I had assumed to be the more reasonable of the two bellowed out, her hair floating about her like snakes and her eyes red and bloodshot.
I didn’t have time to try and figure out the sudden change in her demeanour as The Paladin was on me in the blink of an eye. There was a blur. One moment I was on one side of the arena the next I was crashing, feet first, into the other. The barrier flexed slightly, waves of force spreading out from the point of impact in colourful ripples. A cracking sound came from my leg at the moment of collision and the fervour of the crowd seemed to double. I took a moment to mentally note the construction of the barrier and how it behaved under stress before falling to the ground, landing on protesting feet and pointing my ice staff at the black streak with clouds of sand rising behind it.
My opponent just seemed to want to end the fight, resignation evident in his eyes, but the spirit - if not the word - of the goddess's order appeared to compel him. He took from my hand, before I could react, my new magical foci; snapping the icy implement over one knee; he turned once more into an obfuscated black mass, so fast were his movements. He slowed considerably to deliver a painful punch to my abdomen, which only sent me reeling. I tried Wind Blade, Flame, and even Necrotising Bolt but nothing had any effect, passing through him with no noticeable impact. I would have tried what I had done before, Soul Manipulation, but it took far too long to become one with the skill as I had before. Each attack I threw out was countered with a bare handed strike, designed not to send me flying but to injure, he didn’t even unsheath the massive greatsword strapped to his back.
After a broken wrist, and two broken toes, I decided to switch up my approach. To my surprise it worked. I feinted a spell, holding out my hand as I had before with Flame but instead focused on the counter attack; a haymaker coming round, slow, from the right. If I had cast my spell I couldn’t have seen it for the fire. I ducked under the swing and took a shot at his helmet, aiming for an uppercut that may ring the bell of any normal man. Just before impact I was able to imbue my right hand with Soul Manipulation ensuring a solid hit. My hand struck the bottom of the helm, sending it flying into the air. I jumped back from any further engagement, shaking out the pain that strike had caused. When I looked up I was shocked.
“Orlando!” I asked aloud, unable to hold back my surprised outburst. The familiar face of my adversary remained frozen in rigour mortis, his march of termination unhalted. His eyes however told a different story, one of confusion, shame and surprise.
☠
“What an interesting turn of events!” the ‘destroy’ ordering commentator commentated. “Does this newcomer to our event truly recognise the fallen goddesses avatar?” she asked rhetorically to uproarious applause and speculative laughter. Her demeanour had shifted and where before she appeared the image of bedevilled villainy now she looked like nothing more than a young woman excited to be watching the latest sport. Her hair returned to normal.
“Maniae?” her sister asked in a voice that was surprisingly caring for a creature I had only seen the more violent aspects of. I took note of the name as I failed to dodge another punch which cracked a couple of ribs and sent me sprawling; I wanted to know as much as I could about my captors to give me the best chance of escape.
“Maniae, are you alright?” the snake goddess asked with concern.
“Why wouldn't I be?” she shot back cheerily.
“Your eye, it’s twitching again.”
“It’s not like our uncle has been meddling in our little game.” she replied with a forced laugh which sent shivers down my spine, bent over Orlando's knee. I heard no more of the conversation as they ceased to use their amplification spell but I saw the discourse continue far above. With no more information forthcoming I returned my attention to the problem at hand.
I didn’t hate Orlando, how could I? He had only ever done what he thought to be right and I couldn't complain that he was being unfair. My overzealousness had caused far more than an acceptable amount of damage for the data I had recovered. And I had disobeyed my long dead master’s first rule: “Don’t get caught.”
No,
dodge,
I thought of him,
kick to my thigh,
as,
punch to my chin,
more of a friend,
follow up to my temple,
than an enemy.
As I pushed myself back up from the sand I found it hard to hold to my conclusion. Still looking at the emotions roiling behind his eyes, I knew that at the very least I didn’t wish such a fate upon him. He clearly didn’t recognize me, and why should he. By the emotion which I was struggling to detect between emotionless swings I assumed this not to be the first child he had been forced to kill.
The thought made me sick… in principle… Truth be told, I hadn't been overly attached to the races of the world for some years. At least I thought that was the case, something tickled at the back of my mind, telling me that was off in some way but I was forced to dismiss it as a roundhouse kick came for my head. Whatever happened I could not afford for that precious piece of biological decoration to be destroyed.
Now I knew what I was looking for, I could see what was happening, I could make out the cause, mind mana. Unlike in Howard(gods protect him)’s case I could see the magic filling Orlando’s spirit, now that I was looking for it.
Leaning back on the fallible laws of magic, the second to be precise, I tried meeting his punch with one of my own - filled with mental mana. It repelled what controlling magic there was in his hand, leaving him just enough time to wiggle his fingers before the appendage was once more flooded with the white magic of the mind. No, not entirely white, looking more closely this was more wild than regular magic, it bucked and turned and when it did Orlando would either launch a far more, or less, powerful attack; one time even stopping to pick up and inspect a grain of sand. This chaotic bent of the magic was represented by a purple underglow. I couldn’t see it, as the goddess was blocking my sight, but based on the purple and orange sea I had travelled through to get here I assumed it to be Maniae’s influence. The Paladin’s eyes widened when he realised what I had done.
His eyes, of course! I thought, as a plan came to me. He still had command of his optical faculties; why? It was a vent, to allow the body to still function. If his personality was suppressed completely he wouldn’t retain any of his fighting skills. And that’s all a Paladin truly had to offer, their power came from their patron - they were a conduit for holy mana.
Maniae must be his new patron. I thought as I failed to dodge yet another attack which sent me flying ten feet. With each strike he was growing stronger and stronger, clearly intent on Destroying me both mentally and physically.
The goddess of Light has fallen. I pondered as the back of my mind worked on the spell diagram. Now that I thought back on it, the signs were there. I hadn’t seen a single one of her worshipers since waking up nor had I heard anyone mention them. I had seen churches but nothing distinguished them as belonging to the Goddess of Light.
The spell diagram was ready, the crowd was once more in an uproar, not quite at each other’s throats. looking up, I saw a heated yet silent discussion between this arena’s patonnes. This was the perfect time to act. Through the fight I had been repairing myself with Necrotic Healing but it was beginning to struggle to keep up with Orlando’s increasing pace.
Taking a strategic shot to the groin I was sent flying the right direction, scooping up the discarded ghostly helm I readied myself. Sliding to a stop with a grin I began chanting.
While I had been flung about the arena like a rag-doll, I was making a diagram in the sand, a spell structure. Caught up in their family drama the goddesses hadn’t noticed but there was curiosity behind Orlando’s eyes, even more so as he found himself attacking me next to his helmet, in the centre of the drawing.
I took the two handed strike which pounded me into the sand so that I could gather enough concentration to use Soul Manipulation to reinforce Glacius Solero and run through the spell diagram about us to increase its power, and slightly change its effects.
The flash of light blue was enough to steal divine attention for a moment but seeing I was trying the same trick again, they swiftly turned back to their argument, the crowd not stunned this time, already shouting, “Break out!” and “Now’s not the time to chill out!”
None of them appeared to notice the slightly ethereal quality to the ghost ice. I did, and I was glad the spell had worked as expected. I plunged my hand through the intangible ice and into the equally nonphysical poltergeist, right into his eye. It was the hole in the nervous system which the controlling white and purple magic didn’t guard. Using this gap in the defences and coating my probing hand in physical enhancement mana; I used the third suggestion of magic, opposites attract, to coax forth a thread of mana.
Already, the imprisonment was cracking, but I couldn’t rush this part. Staring at my splintering reflection in the light blue ice I focused entirely on the sliver of mana I felt within my grasp. The integrity of the spell seemed to have halved by the time I took the mental mana in hand and was able to fold it into the spell I had been chanting this entire time.
Interestingly the crowd hadn’t changed their tune despite the strange occurrences.
Perhaps they could not see and only had the knowledge of their creatures? I wondered, it made sense as only the first and most powerful gods of a given pantheon could create actual life.
The erratic nature of my mind and its tangential tendencies nearly cost me the spell as the slivering worm of chaotic mental mana tried to buck my grasp. Thankfully I was able to stabilise the spellshape before catastrophe could strike, though the increasing rate of cracking, amplified by the crowd's excitement proved equally distracting. I began weaving together the spell:
* 30% of the storage of a spatial bag: to represent the aspect of space.
* A rusted knife: to represent the passing of time.
* The helm of an undead knight: to protect the living from being dissipated.
* A connection to a god, Maniae: to act as a battery and conduit to the physical world.
* Finally, the magic of Shocking Aura: to represent the target location.
A stable portal grew behind me, starting at the size of a pea and expanding to that of a man in seconds. Everything appeared right this time, the image on the other side exactly what I had expected and clear as a bell. The deity had noticed the draw on her mana and the extrusion in her domain.
“Stop him!” echoing throughout the arena was the last thing I heard as I fell through the tear in space, Orlando breaking free and tearing after me and into the dimensional rip, as per his patron’s orders.