Novels2Search
Rising Kite - A story from the world of HWFWM
166. Oh yeah. That's the stuff.

166. Oh yeah. That's the stuff.

Kite ran down the street while mustering all the speed that his silver-ranked body could muster in pursuit of the mercenary leader. The press of auras continually pressing inwards into the final lines of defenses prepared by the adventurer sometimes made it hard to keep track of the man where he burst through the insides of the nearby buildings. From what Kite could sense of his progress, Solomon should be quite aware by now that the task group’s rather zealous trapper hadn’t left such an obvious hole in their defenses, but Kite had also seen the efficiency with which his dark orb devoured most things it came into contact with, be it physical matter or magical effects.

“From the angle, he should emerge just around… Wall!”

Kite’s thoughts went to chanted action as layers of force walls formed in front of the facade of a nondescript house to his right, and not a moment too soon. Through the semi-translucent barriers, Kite saw the exterior of the house shatter, the debris devoured before it had the time to fall to the ground. The now familiar dark sphere bored through half of his barriers too before stopping, causing the armored, dark-haired man behind it to crash shoulder first into the magical obstacle.

“Oh you cheeky-”

Showing off some more of his fluid control of the thing, Solomon Blaske had the orb rebound off the wall while turning his own stopped momentum into a slide to one side before the void sphere shot forward again, this time shuddering with the disruptive force from before. The rest of the barriers started crumpling as they were punched through before they all shattered at once. As he saw the development, Kite had swung his own staff towards the barriers as well, detonating whatever structural integrity that remained through the enchantments of Immutable Echo.

Rippling waves of resonating force burst inwards towards the house, causing Solomon’s armor to creak and groan while the house itself was pulverized by the silver-ranked effect. The mercenary, now more akin to a dark comet with a tail of masonry dust, tried to leap over Kite, who in response had his staff disappear only for a shield to appear on his left arm. Kite swung downwards with the thing, projecting the strike into the path of the smiling mercenary.

Airbound, Solomon couldn’t dodge, but he could block, managing to intercept with his odd weapon. Instead of the satisfying impact of slamming the man down towards the ground, his momentum was simply just canceled out, leaving him temporarily suspended before the pull of the earth started taking its toll. The arms of Kite’s mantle swung another two projected attacks upwards before he was instead forced to resort to his barrier as the descending mercenary directed his floating orb to beneath himself in a fluid motion, the hungry thing devouring both strikes with the same odd feedback as before.

“Ward!”

Contrary to Kite’s expectations, Solomon didn’t follow through with his attack. At the last moment, the orb shifted out of the way, the man instead planting his feet squarely on Kite’s barriers before kicking off to continue his dash. One of Sage’s resonating force beams managed to clip his side, the landing becoming a roll which quickly landed the mercenary back on his feet. Kite was forced to continue his pursuit, but the chaotic environment didn’t help as they started nearing another area of more intense fighting. Both Solomon and Kite had to direct more effort into defending against stray attacks and other blasts. While this cost Kite little as long as he timed his defenses right, the merc seemed to not just be unbothered, but thriving as each absorbed attack or stray spell empowered him further.

“How many self-boosts does the man have?” Kite thought in frustration. Solomon had crossed at least half the distance to the ritual site in much shorter time than Kite would have liked, and as they got in between a pair of intensely struggling aerial fighters whose duel had grounded them both, things were turned even more on their head. The adventurer took a second to gather what was no doubt a potent spell as a whole murder of crows made from blue flames shot out to envelop her foe, only for the opposing mercenary to conjure a rippling, mirror barrier which reflected the whole destructive swarm off at an angle. Kite’s heart surged with hope as the attack was heading straight for Solomon, only to be dashed when the man’s dark orb widened to absorb it all.

Had that been the only thing that happened, it wouldn’t have changed much. But as the man turned mid-stride with his usual grin, the incoming trouble was obvious.

“Some things we eat just don’t agree with us, am I right? Here, you try it!” he called cheekily, and with a surge of mana he sent the previously swallowed attack back out to cover the street, the crow-shaped projectiles now tinted with dark void and hunger.

With a burst of force stored through Unyielding, Kite dashed forward to interpose himself in front of his fellow adventurer, the struggling woman also in the path of the regurgitated, corrupted spell.

“Ward!”

Dual barriers appeared to buy Kite a moment to prepare his response in the form of an upward strike, the charge of Potential of Stolen Power going into Pattern-Shattering Counter. As the powerful wave of flaming projectiles tore through his barriers, it was split in two; like roiling clouds parted by a blade of wind. The spell destabilized and actually bought Kite some time as Solomon at least was forced to bear the brunt of his twice echoed mana-drain, stumbling once in his step but growing his lead nonetheless.

“Good luck!” Kite called over his shoulder to his fellow adventurer, his spectral arms sending a pair of stunning, mana draining attacks into her foe to give her an edge as the previous struggle continued.

Even though the stretch towards the old mill should have taken the two silver-rankers mere seconds to cross, the battle around them kept getting in the way. What followed was another half-minute of ducking, weaving, dashing and breaking incoming spells and attacks, combined with the occasional strike from Kite’s foe as well as he could apparently send the black orb floating out over a dozen meters from himself as a semi-ranged attack.

Seeing Solomon swing and devour another triggering magical trap ahead as he turned the last corner, Kite mustered every ounce of will that he could to keep moving forward. While he knew that there were more defenses back there along with their healing station, Kite also knew that their numbers were too few for any proper reserves to be spared. Christine and Mtanga should both be there though, but having fought several exchanges with the mercenary, Kite felt rather certain in his assessment that Solomon would only need the fight to draw near something as fragile as an active ritual to disturb it.

As if to answer part of his thoughts, the mercenary ahead of him was forced to swerve in his path and send his orb spiraling in frantic defense as he was suddenly beset by a swarm of arrows moving in unpredictable, animated patterns like that of a grasping hand trying to envelop him from all sides, and it was with some satisfaction that Kite saw the smiling man trigger another trap and actually be sent flying out of sight around the street corner ahead.

“Warrior, strengthen my stride as I pursue victory through battle. And Fortune… Please bless me with the seconds I need to catch up and make a difference.”

----------------------------------------

“Oooooohhh, it hurts so good,” Solomon Blaske tried to tell himself as the agony of the exploding rune trap had sent him flying even as more arrows were raining towards him, their intent in pinning him to the cobbled street quite clear. Still, it wasn’t all bad, as the explosion had sent him flying and tumbling a dozen meters down the street.

“In the right direction, no less. Fortune, you naughty girl, you do like me!” Blaske thought as he flipped out of his tumbling roll to keep charging ahead towards his goal, his silver-ranked body meaning that the aches were easily ignored.

On most days, the old mill with its cylindrical, tower-like blades sticking up from its roof would have looked entirely nondescript. But as the swirling, painfully obvious magical light shone bright enough from within to cause it to look like beams of magic were being projected out through every opening, Blaske was rather certain that he had found the place. Sure, there was a pesky archer at its roof, but his Nihil loved munching on arrows. On most things, really. Even if his repeated clashing with the most peculiar guy with the glowing tattoos, who was probably inbound any moment now, had left the dark sphere feeling a little… off.

Activating Strike of Impending Doom to cross the distance in a mighty charge, Blaske had to admit to a little bit of frustration coloring his enjoyment. At this point in a fight, the special attack would normally be charged enough for him to shoot down the full length of the street in an instant, not the lukewarm output it was currently showing after the stacking boon was dispelled.

“No, Solomon. No. Enjoy the thrill. The challenge. The moment,” he thought as his empowered attack carried him sphere-first towards the archer on the roof, only for his momentum to once more be stopped abruptly as something firm and unyielding grasped his lower body; a fist of cobbled stone which had risen from below just as a hot, blonde elf in stone and crystal armor emerged from inside the mill with the glowing windows.

“Had the situation been different, I would have asked you to go harder. Maybe a rain check?” Blaske called while directing his Nihil to chew through the stone hand even as the crystals growing from it started detonating. Each chunk of stone, crystal or just anything else really that disappeared into the dark void sent the familiar warmth of recovery into him, offsetting the sting of the crystal shards that did hit.

A wall appeared in front of him to further block his passage just as he got loose, but Blaske only laughed as he drilled through that as well before swallowing most of another swarm of incoming arrows. Some did hit, stinging pain that fueled his drive to cross the final stretch even more and show them all the glory that was Solomon Blaske.

It was just as that intent formed in his mind when it was doused. Literally doused. Because Blaske suddenly found himself enveloped by water that materialized around him, restraining and suspending him. His Nihil went to work immediately, but the watery sphere enveloping him was simply too big. When he saw the very, very pretty fish swimming close to the archer, Blaske did wonder if some of the things he had taken yesterday had been missed by the cleansing spell, but the mana churning around the carp in obvious, watery ripples disproved that notion.

“Well. Shit.” Blaske thought, realizing that it would take at least a second or two to break free. Through his spiritual senses, he knew that Franz and the others were on their way too even as they fought the adventurers, but they weren’t close enough yet. Especially not when taking into account that tattoo-guy had just turned the corner behind him and launched three of those sneaky ripples toward him while the archer was charging up another shot while the hot elf send a cluster of detonating crystals his way, Blaske knew that he was thoroughly fucked if he didn’t use his defensive ace.

“I guess that today really is a time to live life to the fullest,” he thought, Blaske’s overactive mind planning out what would come next. “Step of the Void Herald”

----------------------------------------

Kite had just turned the corner to see Mtanga, Christine and Glint launch their combined might towards the trapped mercenary leader. Wanting to add as much damage as possible during what was no doubt a brief opportunity, he joined their effort by sending three projected attacks towards the odd man, each carrying the destructive power of Void-Sunders-Firmament. But before either attack could connect, something shifted.

In a surge of mana, Solomon Blaske seemed to be swallowed up by a space of nothingness perfectly encompassing his silhouette; as if the man himself had turned into a patch of absence. Then, said absence took a single step, and in that step it was as if it devoured everything in its path; restraining water, incoming crystal projectiles, arrows. Even the distance itself seemed to be consumed by that lone stride, the instant movement causing Kite’s projected attacks to fall woefully short.

Worse, as he appeared next to Mtanga and Glint at the roof, his dark sphere already swinging towards them, the man seemed to have been restored as well. Not as fully as if by Kite’s own Immortality, but enough for all the scrapes, cuts and other injuries to have vanished, leaving the mercenary leader pristine. Not that it lasted though, as he was instantly set upon by more arrows from Mtanga, the archer leaping backwards only to land on Glint’s back, the familiar having assumed her enlarged form as she floated away from the new threat.

“I believe that this is my stop. You scurry off now and let the nice and polite mister Solomon work in peace,” the mercenary said while waving at the pair with a shooing motion from behind his dark sphere which widened to absorb more of the arrows and casually devour a grasping hand which emerged from the stone roof beneath his feet.

Seeing the surface of the void orb starting to ripple and grow in preparation of another strike, this one directed straight down, Kite desperately lamented his own lack of personal teleportation or other easy movement outside of his enchanted boots already active. But as he was running down the street at full sprint, he did have an idea.

“Christine! Boost!”

Having fought together for just over five months fortunately meant that the elf quickly caught on. So when Kite empowered his stride further with the pent up energy of Unyielding, the street itself beneath bucked to launch him further and faster. But apparently the elf wasn’t even done yet.

“Shield!” she called only a moment before sending a cascade of crystal shrapnel Kite’s way as he passed above her. He just managed to get the barriers of Heaven-and-Void Warding up behind him in time before the crystals hit. It was a spell meant for some damage but mostly crowd control as the spread-out projectiles mean a lot of force spread out over an area. Kite’s momentum sped up further as the world blurred around him.

Transitioning his movement into a swing of his staff, Immutable Echo connected with the dark sphere just as it had begun to tear its way through the formation-enhanced stone of the old mill in order to get at the still active ritual beneath. Disrupting Strike struck once, twice and thrice, and as Kite’s goal had been to merely divert the strike, both he and the mercenary shared a look of utter surprise as the final dispelling attack caused the void ball to implode like a reverse soap bubble and a surprisingly dainty ‘plop’.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Oh.”

“Huh.”

During their exchanges, the ball of nothingness had proven a lot more resistant to Kite’s dispelling effects than most other conjurations he had encountered, but it seemed that enough was enough. To follow the eating-related metaphors of his foe; it seemed like the little hole in the world had finally had its dispelling fill.

The moment of surprised hesitation was quickly broken as Solomon dove backward, but only managed to get halfway out of the arrow swarm fired by Mtanga, he and Glint having circled through the air around the mill to get a better shot.

“Well, I would have liked to save this for a special occasion but…” the mercenary said, activating a ring on his finger which conjured a spherical barrier of golden light around him which started absorbing the incoming attacks.

“I am afraid that a barrier will not be enough, senior. Surrender,” Kite said even as he threw Disrupting Strikes into the thing as fast as he was able.

“Oh? Oh! No, no no, you misunderstand me. The ring is just a trinket. I was about to tell you that I also have a tattoo, even though yours being so awesome makes me a bit embarrassed. It just resets one power each day. Standard stuff. Normally I save it for really important things, such as using Step of the Void Herald again. But that little ball you just popped - which very few have, trust me - was kinda integral to my plans. And waiting a minute for a new one isn’t really possible, even with my little nice trinket. I’ll give you one guess as to where I got the tattoo. You should know me well enough by now to get it right, I think,” Solomon said with a cheeky wink, even as his grin had become a little strained.

Before he had even finished, a purple light shone brightly from the insides of his armor, with extra radiance concentrated in the pelvis region. But Kite was forced to leave any mental images this might induce for later, as Solomon’s mana surged and another dark void appeared floating above his hand. It felt a bit more hollow than the last, but its borders were crisp and distinct. And Solomon, winking again as he did so, did not hesitate in the slightest.

Plunging his orb straight down while empowered further with a special attack, the mercenary leader tore through the roof of the mill just as his barrier fell. Christine did her best to close the hole around him and trap him halfway through, but the elf fell just a moment short in her attempt. And a second later, the light shining out from inside the mill was devoured as a dark stair of absolute darkness was born within.

It expanded outward, no doubt as far as Solomon could make it, eating through a part of both the roof and walls of the square house as the protective formations failed. Kite leapt back alongside Christine, stopping in the air as he conjured panes of force for them both to stand on. From their slight vantage, they caught more glimpses of the other battles still in full swing around them. While it was hard to tell, Kite thought that the adventurers had powered through to claim the upper hand in the initial part of the fight, further cemented by the isolation ritual. But now, if their enemies had more reinforcements to bring to bear while their own were unavailable, things might take a turn for the worse. Even more so as the team of the mercenary leader were squaring off against Kite’s own team just one house away, their rolling fight having taken them close enough to rejoin their captain.

“You know the escape plan. We should prepare to rally towards the harbor and brave its more potent defenses,” Christine said from beside him, her usually relaxed tone gone. “It’s-”

“Ohhhhhh yeaaaah! Am I good or am I good?” came the call from inside the old mill as Solomon Blaske came waltzing out, his smile resplendent as he gave a dramatic toss of his glossy black hair. “It was a good try, guys. Honestly, as far as plans went, it was a decent gamble. But don’t think I haven’t seen the beacon from my people,” he said, gesturing across the city to where the other stealth team had no doubt made their move. “Franz?”

“Yes, Solomon?” the man in conjured flaming armor called from where he stood facing Ryker just one rooftop away, the seemingly volatile head of his burning flail spinning in lazy circles.

“Would you be a dear and teleport some reinforcements over there so we can make sure that we keep our little adventurer friends here with us undisturbed? They have barely gotten to enjoy any of Havenpeak’s hospitality, after all, and I’d like to give them more of a tour without their friends crashing the party. And while you’re at it, tell our little crime barons to send their reserves over here.”

“Of cour-” Franz begun, but halted as it felt like the world around them shifted; like stale air suddenly moved by a breeze, only on a deeper, more fundamental level.

“The dimensional net,” Emilio said from the street below Kite, one wand still glowing in his right hand while his other arm hung limp at his side, his combat robes caked with blood. Of everyone in the team, he was the one most sensitive to dimensional forces and their shifts, and what he said next likewise shifted the fate of Havenpeak and the essence users battling in the city. “It’s gone.”

“Well shi-” Solomon Blaske began, but Ryker had already acted, pulling out a device made from several rings of different metals. With a surge of mana, the rings started spinning while emitting a clear, distinct aura. It was an aura beacon, and a long-range one at that, and Kite could feel another similar signal from three other points in the city; two more up close and one far away as the other team leaders of Gauntlet activated theirs as well. The beacons would resonate with their counterparts, and allow for certain essence powers to home in on them even if the essence-user in question were far away.

Only a second passed, a moment of relative silence as the silver-rankers across the city had all felt the shift. And then, just before the violence was about to resume, a rainbow circle appeared on the street below where Kite was standing in the air, just beside the old mill. It quickly grew and widened to reveal a shimmering mist within, the portal unmistakable. A trio of silver-rankers burst forth even before it had fully opened, the runic woman in the front commanding several crystal nodes to spread out around the dimensional aperture before barrier of shimmering green sprung up between them, protecting the rest of the team that was no doubt preparing to cross in their wake.

“-it,” Blaske finished, noting more portals and the flashes of incoming teleports flicker in the neighboring city blocks. The strained defenses of the adventurers were suddenly bolstered by a fresh wave of the reserves of the task group which doubled the amount of adventure society elites on the ground in Havenpeak within a dozen seconds.

“Change of plans, Franz! We’re getting out. Use your tattoo.” Chaos ensued as the mercenary leader suddenly charged Ryker, using his dashing charge to cross the distance and forced Kite’s teacher and team leader to leap back from his savage attack while the rest of the mercenary team followed suit; unleashing more spectacular attacks and spells to create the space in order to converge on the man in the flaming armor.

“It seems like your gamble did pay off in the end,” Solomon called as he took a defensive position around the teleporter, now surrounded by defensive stone slabs conjured by one of his teammates as Ryker, Amica, Emilio, Gray Sky, Mtanga, Christine and Kite all tried to muster what attacks they could against the mercenary defenses.

“A smart man needs to know when to jump ship, though. Think about my offer, though! Especially you, sexy,” he went, winking at Amica even while directing his dark orb to absorb a stream of poison and launched debris. “I would love to feel your powers in a more… intimate setting. I can be a good boy, I promise.”

“Teleporting!” Came the call from behind Solomon, and the man gave them his widest grin yet, eyes and aura brimming with the tension and excitement of the moment.

“Well, that’s my call! I hope I won’t see most of you again-”

A flash of light followed by a pillar of fire which ascended into the skies, and the mercenary team disappeared. With one exception.

“-but I hope that won’t make you too disappointed. I- eh?” The handsome man had continued his little monologue, but stopped as the realization of him still being there seemed to hit in full. He turned around to see the empty space where his colleagues had stood just a moment before, then, as if just now noticing the new sensation, slowly turned to Kite. And the three, dark vortices hovering above him, their hungry, teleportation-sealing attention now on him in full for the first time.

With so many enemies within range, Kite had let his Spirit Singularity fan out and drain all the opponents within range, giving him a more than steady stream of mana to keep his magical reserve in top condition even through the expenditure of his mantle. But shifting its attention to the directed mode didn’t require more than a thought and a moment, and thanks to the man’s constant monologuing, Kite had gotten plenty of forewarning.

“I suppose it is time to quote myself, then; Well, shit.” Solomon Blaske said, slowly raising his hands. “I surrender. Can it please be the sexy one who roughs me up?”

A moment later, seven auras descended on him. While Solomon had proven to have excellent spiritual control, there wasn't really that much he could do. And with his aura suppressed, his body suddenly went rigid as it was lifted into the air, arms and legs splayed out to the sides.

“Oh yeah. That’s the stuff,” the mercenary captain wheezed out through clenched teeth as Ryker stepped up behind him, snapping a suppression collar around his neck.

“Is it really worth keeping him alive?” Amica asked from where she stood, gaze as intense as her spirit as she kept the man in a telekinetic hold.

“While I would really like to say no, a person like this probably has a lot of connections and knowledge of interest for the adventure society. Probably more than a few wanted-notices too. Shackle him up and we’ll organize storage for him. He'll be somebody else's problem to kill- I mean, deal with. And everyone, throw a prayer of thanks to the god of your choosing. It seems like the other stealth team pulled through just in time,” Ryker said, noting the battles around them come to a close one after another. “And we aren’t done here. Keep looking for the main objective, be it smuggler leadership or the goods. Help civilians when needed too, even if it looks like the locals should be able to handle it for a while longer. No questions? Then we move out as soon as we’ve helped clear this place.”

----------------------------------------

“Are you really sure we should be doing this?”

“The boss said to destroy the shipping logs and any other documentation. So that’s what we’ll do.”

“But the boss has already left! Why should we do anything he says?”

“Bah, that’s just rumors. You know that the boss has a plan. Ain’t no one messes with Auguste Breaker.”

“And why not cooperate with the adventurers breaking down doors everywhere instead? They even beat the Doomstrikes, and now there’s even more of them.”

“And bow to them and their false authority? Submit to their iron grip of the world? Never.”

“Sounds like you have been listening a bit too much to the boss’ preachings.”

“Auguste Breaker is an inspiration to us all!”

“Ugh, gods. Let's just get this over with. The logs should be in here, right?”

The pair of bronze-ranked thugs fumbled with some key stones, trying out the different ones until one finally caused the door to the enchanted filing cabinet to slide open.

“Good, now let me just-”

“Step away slowly, and no one needs to lose their head over this,” a new voice said. The more hesitant thug turned slowly to see a glowing wand pressed to his throat, held in the hand of a smiling elf in combat robes who definitely hadn’t been there the moment before. That they couldn’t sense his aura meant that the two of them were in rather deep shit.

“Hey there, we don’t need no trouble-” once began, but his colleague seemed to have a different idea.

As the flames burst outward from the defiant man in an instant, a short-lived, spherical burst of fire meant to ward off groups of attackers or fry projectiles, one could easily see the conviction burning in his eyes even as he had been wise enough to not loudly proclaim his defiance. But to a silver-ranker, the intent had been visible in his aura way beforehand. So Emilio didn’t move an inch.

“Dissolve the patterns of power!”

A wave rippled across the room, smothering the flames before they had reached more than a few centimeters out from the man’s body. The thug stumbled in pain as the transcendent damage which followed failed dispels jolted him, and soon lay unconscious on the floor, bereft of his mana.

“So,” Kite began, turning to Emilio. “This is it? They actually had shipping manifests?”

“It is as they say; any operation of this size requires bureaucracy to function, criminal or not. That we actually found it where it was said to be will probably make the courts show a bit more leniency to miss Micola.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so kind when speaking of a crime baroness,” Kite said, barely able to contain his smirk when he gleaned the spiritual equivalent of a blush in Emilio’s aura. “And I won’t judge your tastes. Some say that there is a certain kind of thrill in… What did Amica call them? Bad girls?”

“Oh be quiet, you peasant,” Emilio said with a roll of his eyes. “We’d better start leafing through the ledgers. Just from the size of the warehouse out there, this is a lot more than I’d expected. The documents might help us know how many more such storage facilities are spread around the city.”

Sensing an uncertain shift in the aura of the bronze-ranker beside them, both silver-rankers turned to the man as if just remembering that he was there too. “Ehm, I might be able to show you some of them. The boss didn’t tell us everything, but we tried to keep track of the other bosses’ facilities too.”

“Well then, how marvelous. Come with me. I have a certain team leader to introduce you to. Do not fret, his gaze is that stern to all of us,” Emilio said as he escorted the man out of the small office and into the warehouse proper, still at wand-point.

Shaking his head with a smile, Kite turned to the neat collection of books and documents in front of him. “Well, it shouldn’t hurt to at least give these a cursory inspection, even if Braid would be way better suited to this kind of work. Would you like to help me, little beauty?”

Glint had been idly floating around the room, but at this question, she froze momentaneously before suddenly seeming to find something most interesting out in the warehouse.

“I shall have to face the rejection with a stoic heart,” Kite chuckled, turning to the work at hand. While Kite was no scholar, he was still a decent hand at searching through documents and the like, and the spirit attribute of a silver-ranker made for quick reading.

Amica found Kite there around half an hour later as she was floating in through the door. “There is so much stuff out there. We opened one of the more fancy crates, and found a dozen corrupt essences just laying there in a neat row of horror. And there were more than one box.”

“Thirty-two,” Kite said distractedly, his gaze remaining intensely at the document laid out before him.

“Thirty-two what?”

“Thirty-two corrupt essences in this warehouse, along with sixty awakening stones of the same kind. And similar amounts of death, destruction and plague essences along other more common, cheaper ones.”

“How do you know? Did you find the shipping manifest?”

“I believe I did. The amounts are… deeply concerning. We’ve hit smuggling-rings before, but they weren’t shipping even half this amount. Counting in the restricted artifacts along other magical items, there is enough here to found a new whole sect of essence-users from scratch.”

“Sect? Those were the guild-like things from your homeland?”

Kite could only nod, turning to Amica and giving her a grave look.

“What? What is it?” she asked, floating closer as she sensed the distress in his aura.

“That is where this; all of this, was going, Amica,” he said, gesturing to the documents. “All this potential power, most of a kind shunned by society. It was all going to Hua-Xi. To my home.”