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Tale of Eldramir
CH 200 (Book 5 Ch 8): The Final Battles Pt.4

CH 200 (Book 5 Ch 8): The Final Battles Pt.4

Getting through to see Grand Scholar Kris was simpler than Ezekiel had expected, but not as smooth as he had hoped. Yes, they got in without a small army breathing down their necks, but he just knew that there would be noble funded Guilds gunning for them the moment they left.

To say nothing of the possibility of their being Inquisition members within the city, if the report Reya gave when she returned was anything to go by.

The presence of people wearing Kindled Clan symbols was even more of a red flag for him.

“I’m somewhat glad you remembered the name I gave you when we first met,” Ezekiel said. “It’s not the best disguise, but it’ll work better than using my actual name in this instance.”

“If you say so. I still somewhat wish you could’ve gone to a different city, though,” Cinder replied with a frown on her face. “You don’t know just how much trouble the three of us have been going through, being known friends of yours. I expect the Church will have a liaison on its doorsteps within the hour.”

Ezekiel couldn’t hold back a wince at the thought. He knew that, after the empire made a deal with the Kindled Clan and their allies, his family were basically wanted criminals at this point, but he had hoped that the friends he hadn’t seen in over a year hadn’t suffered too much.

Behind them, Riley, Evelyn, and Welt remained quiet. Having apparently chosen to simply listen in for now.

“... How’re the others, if you don’t mind me asking?”

It had been around three months since he had officially cut contact with his scholarly friends. Given it would be difficult to send letters whilst in the middle of the Fjorya’s wilderness.

Rather than respond to his inquiry, Cinder just smiled, and remained quiet as they walked on.

After a few minutes of listening to their own footsteps, the group arrived at a room in the central area of the Cathedral’s territory. An ornate door frame covered in obsidian carvings, designed to look like entangling vines covered in thorns, surrounded the closed opening.

As the door opened, Ezekiel’s senses extended inside. He had expected the presence of the peak Legendary Obscure mana he remembered from speaking with Grand Scholar Kris last year.

But the presence of a first Step Legendary Flame Mage, as well as a first Step Legendary Life Mage, were both a shocking surprise. Especially with how familiar their mana felt to both his and Shine’s senses.

“Well, well, well... If it isn’t the young man who keeps throwing the world into chaos,” Kris’ elderly voice rasped with a laugh as she welcomed Ezekiel and his party into the room. “It seems like you’re in trouble, once again. But I guess I owe you a bit of help, given you’re the reason we have two new Legendary Mages in our numbers.”

Ezekiel just entered the room, staring at Fiana and George. Who, last he saw, were not yet at the peak of Adept, let alone ready to cross the threshold into Legendary.

He didn’t need to turn around to know that Cinder was smirking at him.

Really, he just felt glad that his two friends and colleagues were smiling at him, as he knew that at least some of his worries were gone.

Though, a darker part of his mind told him that it just meant he had less to distract him from the other things he was worrying about.

“So, tell me, what brings you allies and this tribe elder to my office today?”

Kris’ voice snapped Ezekiel out of his temporary stupor. The Grand Scholar’s voice lost its jovialness and had become much more grim as she directly addressed him.

Settling himself into the chair directly in front of Kris’ desk, he was immediately reminded of the times he’d been summoned to the offices of Scholars in the past.

Mentally shaking his head free of those memories, Ezekiel readied himself to tell the tale of what had been going on so far. He heard the others take a seat on a couch, knowing that this might take a few minutes.

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A frozen ax clashed with a steel blade covered in sparks of lightning. The sound of thunder echoed over the battlefield, accompanied by the clinking sound of shattered ice as elements clashed.

But the victor in this conflict was obvious as steel shards fell to the ground.

“Urk!”

Narrik’s weapon cut through his opponent’s Spirit Armor. Blood splattered across the ground, and the opposing Lightning Hunter, garbed in the symbol of the Cult of Light, fell to the ground, his armor fading into motes of violet light.

Ripping his ax out of the fallen cultist, several icicles were revealed. They extended from the edge of the ax to the point they would have pierced through the cultist’s heart.

Gasping for breath, Narrik looked around. He had come to this area with a team of Adepts. They had faced off against a team of Hunters and Mages from the cult. His group had been outnumbered, but were better armed, as they had Spirit blessed Artifacts.

Ultimately the result was the death of everyone but Narrik.

The crunch of boots on snow alerted him to another enemy. Spinning around with his ax raised high, he forced himself to stop mid-swing as he faced his sister.

“Rena... how are things on your side?” Narrik asked as he lowered his ax.

The Tempest Hunter was silent as she looked around at the dead bodies. Her posture was slouched, and a tired sigh escaped her lips.

“They are doing alright. But I lost my team. Same as you, it seems.” She shifted the body of one of the cultists. Rolling him over with her foot. “I guess this is what Father and Elder Welt were always talking about. When everything is said and done, only Myths and Legends are left behind.”

Narrik remained silent, though the slight tilting of his head indicated that he agreed with his sister’s words. A part of him felt regret at the loss of those that had followed him. But another, larger, part of him was simply happy that he had reached the Legendary Tier.

Though, the body of the dead Legendary cultist dulled the small amount of joy he had tried to hold on to.

“C’mon. We’ve been called back to regroup. I’m sure you’re tired at this point too.” Rena put a hand on Narrik’s back. Pushing him forward a bit to get him going.

“How long will we have?” Narrik knew that there wouldn’t be enough time to rest for long. Their temporary bases would let them last for a little while, but the regular barrage, and fear of the bombs the cult still had, would prevent them from truly regaining their energy.

“Longer than you might expect. It seems like the guardians have contacted some of the Spirit Rulers whose territories were destroyed by the cult during the war in the central peaks.” Rena and Narrik took to the sky, turning into streaks as they flew towards their side of the battle. “That will grant us a slight reprieve, but not enough for things to turn around in any meaningful way.”

Narrik knew that Rena was just venting. In truth, none of them wanted to put the cult into a corner. There was no doubt in the elder’s minds that the cult would rather die, and take out everyone else at the same time, than lose.

The only hope they had was that either Invera won her fight, or Ezekiel and Elder Welt had managed to gain the support of the Church. Though, that would have its own issues.

Either way, win or lose, the siblings both knew that today would be the last day of this war.

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Silence reigned as Ezekiel stared across the desk at Grand Scholar Kris.

Between them, the open box with the remaining bombs created by the cultists sat. An invisible weight pressed down on everyone in the room. Even Fiana and George, who had originally been smiling, looked wary as their eyes bounced between Ezekiel, Kris, and the box.

Reaching forward, Kris gently closed the box.

“You shall have our support, but there must be a concession granted to the Church in order to do this quickly.” Kris raised her hand to stop Welt from speaking up. The difference in their level, even amongst the same Tier, was enough to make him pause. “The fact that the Church of Ten is already at war with the cult, though not openly, is the only reason a deal is even possible at this point. Regardless of our position, we cannot allow ourselves to be weakened by helping you.”

Welt slumped into his seat. He knew that the Grand Scholar was right, but that didn’t mean he liked the fact that believed that he would be losing out in whatever deal was made.

A part of Ezekiel wanted to speak up and assist in the negotiations. But he knew that he was simply the middleman in this situation. He had no say in either parties’ negotiations.

“What are your demands?” Welt asked in a defeated tone.

“A Cathedral.” Kris was completely monotone as she looked at Welt without a single emotion on her face. “Specifically, we wish to become a stable presence within the Fjorya. Officially, we will have a place of study and worship for the Ten Ancients. One that will not be driven out by the tribes, or the guardian Spirits.”

“I suppose you want us to be the ones to build it, enchant it, and have members of our tribes join it to serve you and provide our secrets as well?” Welt sounded frustrated and lost. He knew that he had no choice but to agree with the Church’s demands, but he also knew that this wasn’t the worst thing they could ask for.

“No. We’ll build the Cathedral and enchant it. We won’t force anyone to join and give up your tribes’ different secrets.” Welt’s head shot up in shock. “We just want a place where we will be able to put the Cathedral, where our Scholars will be able to set up shop, and won’t be driven out, where our laws are the only laws that will matter. Is that agreeable?”

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Welt was silent as he looked at the Grand Scholar in open mouthed wonder.

“... That’s it?... I... Yes! Certainly! I can grant you a place in my own tribe for such a thing. I’m certain our guardians won’t even dispute it, since you support, and are supported by, their greatest ally.” Welt nodded at Ezekiel. “Does that mean you can help us now?”

Grand Scholar Kris smiled in dark amusement, and Ezekiel felt a chill run down his spine.

While she was no longer a Mythical being, it was obvious that she would be able to take down each and every Legendary being in the room with her.

Even Shine could only agree with Ezekiel, who wasn’t certain that they would be able to escape from the old woman in front of him.

“First, read and sign this, with the knowledge that we will also be your enemies, should you back out of this deal after you do.”

Welt grabbed the contract that Kris had pulled out and placed in front of him. Glancing over it, his face turned pale, and Ezekiel nearly leaned over to take a look. But held back, knowing that it was none of his business.

Closing his eyes, Welt muttered a prayer for forgiveness to the guardian birds, before signing the contract. The magical bindings snapped into place, but Ezekiel knew that it would be Welt who suffered if the deal was not fulfilled.

“Fantastic. Now, given the seriousness of the situation, the Exalted Hunter, Wolken Sanyew, will accompany you all to the Fjorya to take down the cult.” Kris’ grin was far too toothy for Ezekiel’s comfort.

“What!?” Ezekiel was not the only one to make an outburst at the Grand Scholar’s statement.

Though, that was not much of a surprise. Wolken Sanyew was the current Leader of the Prime Guild. The only Mythic Hunter currently tied to the Guilds. With all the others being tied to different political factions. Mostly based in Quintessa, as the more violent and powerful Cruor Broods maintained territory on the eastern side of the Desolate Lands.

Wolken’s name did not come up that often. Ezekiel had only read about it once before when he was studying the different players in the world as a child. The Mythic Hunter was well known for not taking sides in conflicts, even for contracts, unless the Cruor were involved.

Not only that, but with him leaving his Guild alone, there was the possibility that someone would move in and attempt to take over his power base while he was away.

“I thought that Wolken never left the eastern side of the continent. The Empire also doesn’t like Mythics that aren’t under their control being nearby. How can he afford to come here?” Evelyn asked.

“Simply put, Wolken is no longer the only Mythic in the Prime Guild. One of the Vice-Leaders recently broke through.” Kris gestured to the door, leading the group out of her office as she pocketed the contract Welt had signed. “Usually, this wouldn’t be enough, but that brat owes me a few favors. He was actually on his way here when you four arrived. Let’s go greet him. He should be arriving soon.”

The group hustled down the corridors of the Cathedral, and made their way to an open area, where several tents and tables had been set up with snacks atop them. Scholars were mingling, and some of the Cathedral’s guards were enjoying the food that had been laid out.

The area no longer looked like the testing grounds of the more volatile experiments that could not be done indoors.

“Why was Wolken summoned? You couldn’t have known that we would be coming here to ask for aid...” Welt asked as they settled in with the others.

“To be honest, we asked Wolken to come here to help us clean up the Fjorya for when your tribes ultimately failed to push back the cult.” Kris said with a shrug. Welt just looked confused, and a bit upset at the doubt being placed on him and his people.

“Don’t look at me like that. You and yours might have a Mythic Spirit protecting you, but that doesn’t mean much when the cult can create false Mythics to fight her off.” Kris took a bit of sausage from the table. “Perhaps you would’ve pushed them back this time, but who's to say you would push them back again in a couple of years? Once the cult finished consolidating their power in Tarquessa.”

Welt looked away. Ezekiel pitied the man, as he knew that the cult was just too powerful. Their place in Tarquessa granted them resources that already put them on par with the Fjorya. With the resources from the other cult bases throughout the world, as well as the new secrets gained from the Church of Ten’s Cathedrals.

“Don’t look so down. It’s not as if your tribes are going to be wiped out, after all. They’ll just have to share a little bit. But this is a good thing.” Kris patted the elder Life Mage on the back. “The Church of Ten shares its Artifacts with its allies, after all. We won’t even be asking for your Spirit Artifacts in exchange.”

Welt remained silent, but once more, Ezekiel knew that the elder couldn’t disagree.

Before anything else could be said, a gust of wind blew through the area. It was so strong that the tents nearly flew into the air.

“It’s about time you got here! Hurry up and take these six to the Fjorya south of here. Those damned cultists are mucking about with weapons of mass destruction again.” Kris suddenly called out, much to everyone else's confusion.

Everyone else but Ezekiel, whose gaze had turned toward a shoulder length, silver haired, middle aged looking gentleman, who had a silver winged snake Spirit wrapped around his shoulders.

“Rude.”

The gathered Scholars and Guards immediately fell silent. For Ezekiel, he felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. A tightness grasped his chest, and the world went quiet. He could tell that he was not the only one who felt this.

A sense of panic suddenly consumed Ezekiel.

‘That’s enough!’ Shine, who wasn’t affected by this sensation, suddenly flooded Ezekiel’s body with mana, forcing their own Understanding of ‘Nothingness’ into Ezekiel.

A moment later, Ezekiel took a deep breath, and fell to his knees, gasping for air.

Like a spell being broken, everyone else in the field did the same a moment later.

Two boots filled Ezekiel’s vision as he stared at the ground on his hands and knees.

With an exertion of effort, he looked up, and the face of the middle-aged man, the man who could only have been Wolken, stood in front of him.

“Impressive.”

The moment Wolken spoke, Ezekiel found himself, and his party, inside Kris’ office once more. Almost like he had ‘Jumped’, but he could tell that he had actually traveled the distance covered, rather than warped space to simply move from one place to another.

“Now, perhaps you can tell me what, exactly, I am here to do.”

Kris just scoffed, before explaining the situation. All the other Legendaries in the room sat in silence. Waiting for their betters to finish and hoping that there wouldn’t be any unexpected difficulties.

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An unsettling calm had come over the destroyed mountains where the Fjorya tribes faced off against the Cult of Light. A brief lull in the fighting. One that was tense as both sides wondered what would happen. Who would restart the battle first? Would the cult simply use their last remaining bombs? Perhaps Invera’s battle would end soon, and the victors of that battle would turn the tide.

A sudden barrage of light constructs, arrows numbering in the hundreds, flew towards one of the Fjorya’s fortifications. Someone screamed, the pained voice echoed across the otherwise silent landscape. A roar was let loose, and a group of Hunters charged, letting loose their own elemental attacks as they did.

The earth rumbled as Hunters who were resting began their battle once more. Those that were nearly out of mana moved to the walls of whatever fortifications they resided in.

They would not be able to strike out offensively at this time, but they could at least ensure that no enemies got too close. Artifacts, blessed by the guardian Spirits, lit up as the ‘Will’ of their tribe’s guardians flowed through them.

Barriers and defensive constructs were brought forth as more and more elemental missiles were sent forward. The clang of steel and magic constructs rang out once more. Quieter than before, but also much fiercer.

The number of Adepts had been lowered a significant amount. So, it was mostly Legendaries that fought. Many were already injured, but it was clear that none were simply going to give up. Not this time.

Those that remained had already retreated at least once before. It was unlikely that they would survive again at this point.

There were no more Adepts to black the lines while they ran.

“Die!” a cultist screamed as she threw a wind covered dagger at Narrik’s open back.

If not for his training with his sister, he would’ve failed to duck and roll out of the way.

The cultist tried to get out of the way, but the two were both on the ground at this point. Too tired to expend energy flying, so she failed to move her foot from the small puddle of water she stood in fast enough.

With a backward wave of his hand, Narrik froze the poodle, causing the cultist to trip up and fail to block a flaming sword that cut through her stomach. Smoke escaped her lips as her armor faded away. Her insides became charred and crispy, while her chest collapsed inwards upon impact with the ground.

Sparing a moment to wave in thanks at the man who had killed the Tempest cultist, Narrik began moving to another battle while the Flame Hunter moved to a different one.

Rena was locked in battle with a Lightning Hunter from a Guild and was beginning to lose ground. While she had slightly more mana left, it was clear that the Guild member was more experienced, and their speed was simply too much for her to deal with.

Suddenly, the ground froze, and both the Lightning Hunter and Rena were brought to the ground as they lost their footing. But Rena recovered first, rolling out of the way like she was used to doing, while the Lightning Hunter was a beat slower, taking a few icicles to their side. Though they weren’t strong enough to pierce his armor.

A wind covered blade shot through the air, cracking the armor and causing the Guild member to roll away. Directly under the ax Narrik was swinging down.

Seeing that the area was somewhat clear, Narrik rushed over to his sister, pulling her off the ground, and began moving back to their fortifications. Regardless of the fact that it was under siege.

“Stop! We can’t go back that way,” Rena gasped out as she steadied herself.

“We also can’t stay on the field any longer. We need to move.” Narrik began pulling his sister again. He stopped when something the cultist’s were doing caught his eye.

“Fly! Fly now!”

The siblings took to the air, the usually negligible mana use was not great enough for them to feel every drop expended. Worse yet, from their heightened viewpoint, they could see what the cult was planning.

The two sides of the conflict had spread out, and it was clear that a larger portion of Fjorya Hunters was gathered around a small portion of cultists and Guild members.

Exactly the kind of situation the cult would deploy one of their bombs to change the tides.

Rena nearly flew toward the area, wanting to get a warning out before it was too late. But Narrik held her back, striking the back of her head with the back of his ax. Rena’s limp body started to fall, and her Spirit separated from her, baring her fangs at Narrik.

None of this mattered to the Glacial Hunter, however, as he simply grabbed the both of them and began flying even faster in the opposite direction of the unfortunate group.

Dozens of Legendary Hunters from all around the Fjorya had gathered in one area. All unwittingly chasing individual Hunters and cultists that were running in a futile attempt to escape their pursuers.

Taking a chance to look back, now significantly further from the scene, Narrik saw a horrifying sight. A small glowing sphere was headed directly at the gathered Hunters.

His heart nearly stopped, because he could tell that the Hunters in that area were too close together. Separated by tens of meters of distance, but still too close together.

Even he, who was now over a kilometer away, wasn’t sure that he would be able to escape unscathed. Especially with his sister’s limp body held in his arms.

Seeing a large boulder lying on the ground, Narrik dove. He touched down just as the bomb launched by the cult reached the end of its timed ignition.

Crouched behind the massive rock, Narrik felt the world shake, and a bright flash of light filled his eyes. It nearly blinded him, even though his eyes were closed. A ringing filled his ears as the soundwave passed over him. It wasn’t until several seconds had passed that he dared to move.

There was silence in the aftermath. But it was strange. Narrik could vividly remember what had happened when he’d watched that first explosion that Ezekiel had set off. This was different. There was light, and sound, but something was missing.

“... Force. There wasn’t any force.” Narrik nearly ran as he moved around the boulder to see the results of the bomb. Finally realizing what the problem was.

For as bright and loud as it had been, there had been surprisingly little force behind the explosion. Given how close they were, he had feared that the boulder they were hidden behind might’ve moved from the pressure that would’ve been pressed against it.

But there was nothing.

Stepping out from behind the large rock, Narrik could see why.

An enormous dome of spiraling wind had covered the group of Hunters on the ground. While a bowl of equaling fast spinning wind sat atop of it. The remnants of the explosion had long since been blown away, so rapid was the twisting tempest.

“That is enough!”

A deep and rumbling voice rolled over the area, and the sound of panicked magic being cast on the cult’s side of the battle briefly filled Narrik’s ears. Only to be drowned out as all the air suddenly stopped moving. Even Narrik wasn’t spared and found himself drowning on land.

Everything then felt heavy, and all the Hunters and Spirits on the battlefield that were still standing suddenly fell to the ground face first.

Narrik’s last conscious thought before blacking out was that he hoped that this powerful figure that had deflected the cult’s bomb was there to help them, and that they hadn’t poked a sleeping dragon searching for blood.