Journal Entry #27
Lesson Number 2 – You are a mortal with mortal limits. Divine retribution awaits those that try to remake reality.
That one needed some context, but rather than explain, the witch had me learn the lesson intimately by having me cast off wave after wave of synchronized mana. Each time I felt a stronger connection to the world around me, and each time my ease of bending the heat or water vapor in the air became easier, but then the pain came.
It started off small, just stiffness in my shoulders, but then it traveled down, and my muscles began to cramp. I got told to stop, but the power I felt was so addictive, and my mind somehow kept arguing that I could hang on just a little longer.
Then I suddenly came to. I was bound and gagged, violently ill to my stomach, covered in dried blood and feathers, and had no clue as to what put me there. The orc was nearby watching me, and after asking me a few simple yes and no questions that a two-year-old could’ve answered, removed my gag and bindings, then explained that I went feral, tried to attack the witch, and ate a wandering chicken.
Raw.
I immediately threw up.
---
Travis
Rainsday, the 6th of Ninethmonth
Union Fortress – Jarl’s Palace
My feet were unable to fully hide my irritation and exhaustion as they trudged alongside Seleyna’s graceful steps when we exited our private breakfast with the jarl. Yesterday was a long day, even before I exited the musical to discover what was happening outside, and the subsequent ruckus at the palace while separated from Arc only turned up the heat on the pressure cooker that was my stress level.
Seleyna checked to make sure we were actually alone in the hallway and away from her bodyguards for a change, then broke the silence with a sarcastic tone, “It’ll be pleasant meeting Myrtice when we get back. I’m sure she’ll have some wonderful things to say to me.”
My head turned in surprise, “Why would she be angry with you? It’s not like you’re the one to blame for this mess.”
She laughed, “You clearly don’t have any older siblings. If you did, you’d know that the youngest always gets accused of being the favorite child. Trust me… She’ll find a way in her mind to justify blaming me.” Seleyna sighed before muttering to herself, “They always do.” The princess then shook away the unpleasant thought and nudged me in the arm with a more cheerful tone, “Did you get any sleep?”
Taking the hint to change the subject, I waggled my hand, “A little once I got done getting questioned, but it sure didn’t feel like it when my alarm rang. How about you?”
She shrugged, “No true beauty rest on a bed for me, but I managed to at least sneak in a few naps on a chair. Mother insisted that I listen in on the interrogations and [Message] transmissions.”
My bleary eyes turned to examine the princess as my sluggish thoughts worked to rationalize the disconnect between what I was hearing versus seeing. Seleyna looked as radiant as the day I met her, with sandy colored hair flowing down past her shoulders in waves, a sun-kissed complexion that contoured her entrancing stone-blue eyes, and… a teasing grin that was having fun at my expense.
She chuckled in chorus with my groan, then reached into a pouch on her belt to pull out a small vial, “Here, give me your hands.”
I did as instructed, then watched as a few drops of a strong peppermint scented oil were placed in my left palm.
“It’s called Morning Refresher, an infusion of stimleaf and some other herbs. Rub it around your eyes and face. It’ll help perk you up.”
Eager for anything to relieve my bloodshot eyes, my fingers dipped into the oil, then massaged the tiredness away as the cool sensation pumped fresh blood into my skin. It worked wonders, invigorating every pore on my face, but sadly did nothing to penetrate the buildup of anger simmering deep below.
We eventually approached my room, creating an awkward moment when Seleyna stopped along with me outside my room, leaving me scrambling for a polite way to ask her to leave, “Umm… sorry, but… I’m going to be a few minutes.”
“Oh, of course. I’ll… see you down at the dock?”
I nodded my head, feeling bad as I entered my room, but knew it was the right call when a guttural growl finally cracked open the seal on my emotions. I was just supposed to do a quick check to make sure nothing got left behind by the corpsman when they came for everyone’s storage crates, but I desperately needed the moment of isolation to finally vent the rage that had been building up ever since Arc was returned to me.
“Okay, I get that you’re a bit upset… but, hear me out—”
“A bit?!” I barked, unclipping Arc from my belt so I could hold him in front of me and properly glare, “Only a bit? You created a national incident last night while you were ducking around!”
“C’mon bud, you’re making a mountain out of a gopher hole; corrupt politicians crop up like weeds all the time.”
My grip tightened, “Were you not paying attention when the jarl was profusely thanking Seleyna and apologizing to me? That weed is from an inner ring family, was publicly endorsed by Crown Princess Myrtice before the recent election, and nearly won it. The Jarl took a huge risk when he assembled the guards, and only had the confidence to do so because that Royal Knight was available and willing to investigate.”
“Okay… I’ll admit I got lucky there… but you know how it is, no plan survives first contact, and even if that part failed, I still had options. It’s not like any sane person would presume I escaped on my own into the night with the weapons.”
I could almost feel him squirming in my hands as he tried to downplay what happened, but I wasn’t having any of it.
“And what would you have done then? Left a pile of weapons on the front door of the palace with a written note? Smuggle yourself back in and leave me reaching to explain why my weapon’s rack has extra armaments?”
“I… umm… uh, well… no.” Arc’s blustering finally ended, and his tone shifted into a morose tenor, “I’m sorry. Private Tomas was about to get killed, and I panicked. Afterwards, when I finally was able to think of something plausible, Bones mentioned that they had stolen other weapons like me in the past, and well… I thought maybe…” Arc faded out, unable to continue.
I sighed, letting the billowing steam inside me vent out completely, then sat down on the bed with Arc laid out next to me.
“Were you at least able to talk to the other weapons?”
“No… the first one I tried to talk to just got upset with me for waking them and told me to leave. The others… they didn’t even respond.”
My fingers traced along Arc’s scabbard until they found his favorite spot and began scratching. It must have been utterly disappointing for him to go through all that effort, only to find the venture pointless.
We sat there for a minute, hearing the shuffle of armored boots exiting the neighboring rooms, the occasional whinny from a horse outside, and the ticking of the clock informing me of the time.
I sighed once more, wishing the tiny respite could last longer, but at least I was able to think of something that might cheer up Arc.
“I’m pretty sure Lancel’s figured out that something’s off, and he might be growing a tad paranoid. Would you be willing to properly meet him?”
“Already? Umm… yeah, I… I would like that. Did you have a time and place in mind?”
“Well, I was originally hoping to do it this morning, but… ugh, now that I think about it, doing it half an hour before we board a crowded boat might not have been the best idea.”
Arc started laughing, “No… probably not. Let me think… there’s still stops at Brushstroke and Loggercliff before we start marching to Coldwater Spring. We might be able to find the time there, assuming nothing world-shattering happens along the way.”
My head slowly turned down to stare at him incredulously.
“What?”
“You recently berated me the other day for tempting Phymur.”
“I did? When?”
“Right when that Mudfish grappler attacked. I remember because you called me something rude in that weird language you won’t tell me the origin of.”
“I think your memory is playing tricks on you. I don’t recall saying anything, and we both know who is more reliable in that regard.”
I shook my head, happy that Arc was feeling himself again, but slightly annoyed that meant he was back to his half-mad state of mind.
Checking the clock once more, and figuring it was time to get moving, I got up to open the door and step out but ended up lurching back uncontrollably to keep from crashing into a commando preparing to knock on my door.
The leather-clad assassin held up their open palms, “Apologies Sir Travis, it was not my intention to startle you.”
My breathing must have taken a full minute to calm down, but the hooded figure was patient, and simply stood there motionless as I regained control of myself, “None needed, umm… Raven Four?”
“Yes, The Raven Four.” They folded their forearms into a formal salute, then did something unexpected, “As the entrusted captain of this battalion regarding mission security, let me begin by extending you a formal apology on behalf of Squad 3. I should not have fully trusted the local palace guard to deter thievery.”
“Oh… umm, thank you.” I stammered out, not quite sure how to react. Every commando I’d interacted with before always spoke in a gruff monotone with no readable body language. This one was expressing genuine emotion, not just in his vocal tone, but with the way his shoulders slumped in defeat and how their eyes lowered in shame.
Raven Four’s demeanor didn’t last long, however, and he quickly returned to his usual mysterious nature, “I also volunteered on behalf of the captains to come and ask if you were satisfied leaving the investigation in the hands of Royal Knight Blavot, or if you will be remaining here to conclude the investigation.”
Remaining here? What the…? I have neither the rank nor authority to change my own mission mid-assignment. Gods, I’m not even a fully titled mage yet, just an Initiate. Why is he asking me that?
I remained quiet, drumming my fingers against my thigh in confused thought, glancing occasionally at the commando, until the obscuring fog finally lifted.
Ugh… I’m an idiot. Lancel used to complain about officers in the army springing competency tests on him. I should have known this was going to happen eventually. Hector literally stated that the purpose of these expeditions was to give us field experience.
Grinning with satisfaction, I turned to Raven Four, “Sir, unless I’m ordered otherwise, my current mission for the kingdom still stands. I do not intend to abandon my squad over a personal matter.”
Raven Four’s large eyes narrowed at me for a minute, then suddenly widened enough to show the whites, “That’s… eh, correct. We have not issued you new orders… and complications aside, we still have a mission to complete.” He nodded as if to reassure himself, then resumed, “If you have any questions regarding the investigation in the future, you are welcome to ask, given that you were targeted.”
Arc whispered to me using my earring, “Hey, can you ask him about what will happen to the thief?”
I asked, then felt a tremble of anxiety run down my spine as the commando contemplated the question for a full minute before responding. “That depends on the judges. Paulus has been cooperative so far, despite some clear agitation whenever a commando enters his cell, and is providing information on the local Thieves’ Guild, so that will lower his sentence. What will hurt him is that Galoys, his partner, is claiming that they stopped him from killing a corpsman that entered your room, and was left bruised, bound, and abandoned in retaliation.”
“Uh-oh… that’s not what happened…”
A deep pit of dread formed in my gut, “Will that testimony affect his sentencing?”
Raven Four nodded, “Yes, by a great deal, full calendar cycles of indentured servitude in the capital instead of a few years if the judges believe him.”
Rot! I’ll never be able to live with myself if I don’t figure out a way to help.
My jaw clenched in agitation as my brain tried to think of a subtle way to inform them of the truth, but before I could, Raven Four audibly gasped and shifted into a defensive stance with both daggers retracted from his wrist sheaths.
I stepped back from the twitching commando, wondering what the rot was going on at first, until a sneaking suspicion started tingling in the back of my skull.
Raven Four stood there on the defensive, then after what felt like ages, turned his head my way before raising his forearms to return his daggers, “Apologies again… I… I need to report something.” He then spun on his heels and ran out of the room.
I waited a few seconds for him to get out of range, then rapped Arc with my knuckles, “What did you do?”
Arc cackled like the madman he was, “Sent him a Message over his private channel. Given that all the commandos I’ve seen so far sleep in their uniforms, he’s probably panicking at the thought of someone skilled enough to touch his cowl without getting noticed.”
I sighed, mainly because my earlier scolding failed to stick for more than six minutes, but also to cover the smile trying to creep across my face.
---
Arc
Philiadra River – Hillstripe County
ETA to Brushstroke Fortress – 8 Hours
My focus floated over the crowded main deck to watch in awe as Varguk’s hands dexterously prepared stimleaf concoctions with the speed and flair of a Vegas bartender. And I do mean bartender. The typical lattes were getting interlaced with espresso poured into shot glasses, iced drinks shaken like cocktails, and one weird order where an egg was stirred into a mixture till it thickened enough to get slurped up like a Jello shot.
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It was quite the change from the typical morning aboard the ship, and I was curious as to why. Normally the cessation of morning drills would give way for individual training under a tight schedule to fairly divide the time. Though, I had a feeling my answer was walking up the steps to the aft deck.
Spartan Captain Aguk carried a drink in each hand, paused briefly after the ascent to set his jaw, then approached his fellow Squad Captain Adaline, “Good morning, would you care for a stimleaf beverage? Spartan Varguk added steamed milk for nutrition and infused caramel to provide a palatable flavor.”
The Royal Knight slowly removed herself from the railing she was leaning on, then turned to smile at the half-orc with noticeably tired eyes as she took the latte, “Thank you. I must admit, I was surprised to see you grant permission to the junior’s request.”
“His reasoning was sound, given that you and many of the mages and knights were unable to get a full night’s sleep.” “Plus,” the half-orc paused to look down at the battalion as they mingled with one another while waiting for drinks, “I felt it was an appropriate relaxation of military discipline, befitting the spirit of Union Fortress.”
Adaline sipped at her drink during Aguk’s explanation, then raised an eyebrow, “That’s… err, I intend no offense, very un-spartan-like of you.”
Aguk cleared his throat and shifted his weight to the other leg, “No offense felt. And… thank you for the compliment. Spartan attempts to integrate more with the other branches of the military haven’t always meshed smoothly.” His hands readjusted their grip on his drink, “On that note, let me thank you for filing a recommendation to have Varguk join the battalion. A skilled chef is always welcome, but a spartan that can take off their stripes along with the armor… that’s… well… Have you ever met some of the more hard-headed spartans who served under the previous queen?”
The Royal Knight chuckled, “Yes, I have.” She sipped on her drink, then had a moment of realization before looking back up at the tall and broad man with a nervous smile, “I need to correct you, Princess Seleyna put in that request, not me.”
“Oh… I see.” Captain Aguk’s chest deflated, “That’s twice I owe the princess now.”
“Twice?”
Aguk nodded, “Yes, back in the spring when I was scouting for talent, I heard the story about the princess attending an outer-ring party, and was surprised that the spartan she danced with was a potential recruit I dismissed. I grew curious, and after a little digging, I was able to find an after-action report that helped explain the glaring contradiction in behavior from what his psych profile suggested. I determined that if he was willing to push himself in such a fashion, then he would be an excellent fit for the Combined Arms branch, and perhaps even act as a role model for future recruits.”
He gestured down to where his point was being actively illustrated; Reidar discussing possible equipment options with Travis the mage, Lieutenant Fernrod the knight, and Longspur Eleven the commando.
“I was still a sprout back when Queen Claudette came into power, and one of the first recruits to be subject to her push for cultural integration.” The half-orc sighed with a forlorn expression, “I sometimes think I was the only one of my squad-siblings to earnestly try and find common ground with civilians and the other branches.”
A gentle hand rested on the spartan’s forearm, and he looked down to see its owner gazing up at him.
“I’m glad you did, and that you keep trying.”
The two smiled at each other… until the moment lasted a bit too long and shifted into that awkward stage, resulting in them quickly shifting their attention back to their battalion.
Adaline summoned the confidence to speak first, “This social hour seems to be going well. If you’re willing to adjust the morning schedule, I’d be amenable to repeating it tomorrow.”
“I can do that. However, Staff Sergeant Julien will need your authorization to request supplies at the next fortress. Varguk donated his personal stock today, and I feel we should not take advantage of his kindness.”
“Agreed.”
---
“Put me down, you mud-footed beast!” Private Tomas narrated in his terrible rendition of an elven princess. It was sadly much better than his attempt to lower his voice for the grizzled spartan covered in blood and assassin arrows. “I cannot comply. My orders are to escort you safely to the capital.”
Ugh, I can’t believe I’m listening in for the plot…
With nothing better to do, I continued monitoring the corpsman (and the creepily attentive horses), discovering that after fleeing to safety, Drozuk collapsed onto the ground from blood loss, startling Princess Radelia. Growing worried, she removed the damaged armor from the muscular orc, then began to bandage his wounds with torn strips from her dress.
Bowing out before things got steamy, I floated my focus up a level to where a pair of spartans were waiting for their turn to spar.
“Then after we had enough time to get a feel for each other, we started going at it like beasts for hours. It was exhilarating!” The half-orc paused to catch his breath, “And… exhausting, I almost slept through rollcall this morning.”
The female spartan shook her head, “You and your fetishes…”
“Hey, Fortresses & Fighters is a legitimate hobby. It’s even on the list of recommended leisure activities to engage in with non-spartans.”
“It’s a children’s game…”
“Originally designed by a Baron General Knight to teach large-scale military tactics.” The first spartan argued.
I mentally rolled my eyes, then kept floating along, finding it noticeably harder than usual to stave off the boredom. The anticipation of finally saying hello to Lancel must have been getting to me and was probably compounded by the small taste for socialization I had yesterday talking to Bones. I moved up to the aft deck where the knights were receiving magic instruction, keeping a healthy distance from the former guard captain to keep temptation at bay, and decided to be a more active help to Travis as he taught Galehaut.
“Condensing array number 2.”
Travis gestured at the goliath to turn over his forearm, then briefly compared the inactive enchantment with the custom diagram he sketched for the man’s large forearms before critiquing, “Your diameter on this line end needs to be wider. If that pull isn’t strong enough, you won’t be able to recycle the water flowing over from the other side.”
Galehaut grumbled, then glanced at the answer key before fixing his enchantment formation. Despite only using a trace amount of mana to create the equivalent of a pencilled-in sketch, the constant reshaping was clearly draining the man’s mental fortitude as he kept practicing.
“You’re making steady progress. I haven’t even mastered this enchantment yet.” Travis reassured, then nodded when the corrections finished, “That looks good. Switch arms.”
The big knight relaxed as he let the formation disperse, then raised his other arm to start stenciling out the enchantment before tilting his head to the custom diagram Travis wrote up, “At least I have you here to help with the hard part. Would have taken me weeks to make sense of all those calculations.”
Travis looked up with a sheepish grin, “Umm… this is the easy part.”
Galehaut locked eyes with Travis, then at the diagram, then with his arm, then back to the diagram, and finally back up to Travis, “This…” his deep baritone voice cracked, “this is the easy part?”
My best friend held up a palm, then summoned a thin ball of Water Mana, “Once you have this memorized, the next step will be to maintain the exact same structure and shapes while increasing the density of the mana enough to finally trigger the enchantment.” Travis flexed his fingers, forcing more and more mana into the sphere until the attracted water vapor condensed into a bead of water. “After that comes the hardest part, not letting it fall apart in combat.” He demonstrated by gently banging his hand against the knight, causing the hovering thimble of water to ripple with instability.
Galehaut sighed, then to Travis’ delight, clenched his jaw and redoubled his focus on his next attempt. He still ended up with some lines out of tolerance, but the number of overall errors had gone down. Sadly, their allotted time for practice was almost over, and the goliath had to quit before his elevated mana amperage grew too high.
Travis handed Galehaut the diagram to keep, then gave his neck and arms a quick stretch after the two parted, leaving me an opening to speak.
“You are aware that you just lied to him, right? His affinity should kick in to help once he tries activating it.”
“I’m aware,” Travis whispered into his arm as he brought it across his chest to stretch his shoulders, “but that will only ever apply to Water spells, and if he cobbles his enchantments together haphazardly, they’ll be underpowered and too expensive for reliable use. It’s better for him in the long run if he develops a habit of learning spell formations properly, especially if he wants to expand his repertoire. Besides, he’s been putting in a lot of effort to teach me proper swordsmanship, it’s only fair I return the favor.”
“You know, I sometimes miss that little kid who’d loosen the ink jar lids at school when no one was looking…, but then I get reminded that he never truly left.” Travis smirked at my comment, but my 360-degree sword vision spotted Vesril approaching, so I figured I better warn him, “Heads up. Edgelord is coming to talk.”
The elven Ice Mage sauntered in next to Travis, leaned against the balustrade with his arms crossed, then cast off the Wind Mana collecting around his shield/snowboard to form a [Sound Barrier].
“Captain Adaline denied my request to go wake surfing. Said that boredom wasn’t a compelling reason, and that I should be taking this time to ‘become acquainted with my squadmates.’” He rolled his eyes behind the twin lens of Shadow Mana floating in front of them, not even bothering to hide the snark in his voice, “Hence why I’m here. Talking to you, the social bee of the battalion.”
Travis’ face went from confusion over why the anti-social elf was talking to him, to full-blown gobsmacked after being called a social bee, and for good reason too. Despite his best efforts to be more outgoing, Travis was still an introvert at heart, preferring to hang over the railing and watch the scenery pass by (or sneaking below deck to coddle his nameless horse), instead of playing cards or sharing stories. Heck, it was only a year ago that Travis was turning down offers from the other boys in his village to visit Lakewell Fortress, actively ignoring Ingrid’s attempts at flirting, and spending every waking hour training to become a mage.
“Figures…” The punk-rock elf covered in piercings muttered after Travis failed to respond, “The one time I actually do what my dad wanted… and you become tongue-tied.”
He reached into an elongated pouch to touch a wand he carried, then cast a [Remote Ear] spell in sync with one of the frequencies to start listening to the fantasy equivalent of a gothic metal band. The dark atmospheric undertones crossed with harsh vocals eventually snapped Travis out of his stupor, and they listened in until the end of the current song.
“This is… different. Does this band just happen to be performing right now, or do they take turns with others?”
Vesril groaned, clearly annoyed that he’ll have to actually talk, “The band playing right now, Stonebreaker Tempest, is one of a dozen bands booked to play their set once per day on this frequency.”
Travis nodded along, tapping the helmet clipped to his belt, “Huh, I guess it never occurred to me that Message channels could be dedicated to music instead of long-range communication.”
The Ice Mage shrugged, “Not surprised. Used to be impossible to stop some duck-feathered asshole from adding their own inputs and shitting over everything. But about a calendar cycle back, some genius finally figured out how to make a relay artifice that didn’t distort or pollute sound enough to make your ears bleed.” He gestured at the spell as it started outputting a new song, “The channel jockey I pay manages a master feed with a dozen other guys, then distributes copied signals. Either a private one like mine, or a shared channel that only needs a couple dozen people to reset in case a mudfoot gets a hold of it.”
The two kept talking, but I got distracted by a fast-approaching ship entering the outermost range of my vision and sent out my focus out to get a clearer picture. It was of an older Lakelander style (Viking longship from my old world), but what really caught my attention was the two mana users on board. A woman wearing a wide brimmed hat inexpertly using Wind Mana to fill the sails and propel the vessel faster, and a man with a very blatant Fire Affinity with matching inscribed sword manning the rudder.
The unknown ship exited the river connecting to the lake we were on, and as if guided by fate, turned to face us.
Artificer Volmaegar, standing watch at the prowl, spotted the target and called it in, “Captain, unknown vessel on approach.” The beardless then flipped down the visor on their helmet, and pumped Metal Mana into the glass while triggering their mana sight, “I’m seeing over a dozen rowers, a Wind Witch, and… Rust! Confirmed pirate, Verain the Scorcher.”
“Prepare the cannon.” Ordered Ship Captain Sampson. He then turned to face an approaching Captain Adaline, “Normally I’m obligated to pursue and eliminate any and all threats, but…” The ship captain tilted his head towards Seleyna.
The Royal Knight nodded grimly, “The safety of the princess supersedes that, plus…” she paused to glance at Travis and the other gathering teenagers before whispering, “I’m not a fan of having kids blooding their swords.”
Volmaegar interrupted with an update, “We’ve been spotted… they’re turning tail.”
Captain Sampson grimaced as he adjusted the wheel, “I need orders…”
Adaline clenched her jaw with indecision but got saved by Raven Four speaking over the Message channel.
“My team is willing to capture all targets, we only require the mages to disable the enemy ship.”
I saw the tension bleed from Adaline, and after exchanging nods with Captain Aguk, messaged over the battalion’s channel, “All squadrons prepare for combat.”
Taking over command, the spartan leader turns into a possessed man as he barks out orders in and out of everyone’s helmets, sending the knights and spartans of each squad to the edges of the main deck; Travis, Vesril, and the Creeksmith twins to the foredeck; then assigning Seleyna, Drozuk, Mattius, and Treblana to guard the aft deck. This, I assume, doesn’t go over well with the princess… given that her fingers are clenching quite visibly around her bow as she prepares it, but she manages to hide her annoyance in time before her bodyguard turns around and gives a “you will stay right there where it is safe” glare.
Captain Sampson focuses on his attunement with the artifice engine, then begins to ramp up the crystal mana embedded into the gears turning the propeller, causing them to spin faster and faster, until Warden’s Hammer increases speed enough to slowly begin catching up, giving everyone on board enough time to get into position before attack. Wanting to get a good view of the action, I moved my focus to sit behind Travis, who is looking like a proper badass wizard at the starboard prowl, poleaxe held in his right hand and his left extended to cast a mixed trio of Orb spells in preparation, waiting in anticipation for the action to start.
A trio of [Fire Bolts] from the mages sounds off the attack, all three aimed high at the sails, but the Wind Witch onboard the pirate ship counters with a swipe of synced Air Mana through the spells to disrupt the formations. Her cloud of mana then raises high in the air before brutally slamming down to deflect a follow-up volley of [Water Bolts] targeting the rowers.
Interesting… I’ve never gotten to see a witch use magic before. Well… I guess I technically saw Brains back in the day, but he was showing off for a crowd, and wasn’t exactly using a completely legal style. Now that I have a comparison, his spellcasting looked more like a halfway point between mages and witches. This lady isn’t using spell formations at all, just using the natural pull energetic mana has on matter to force the air to do her bidding and summon strong gusts of wind.
Her witchcraft seems effective too, the mages on the foredeck can’t get anything past her, but… as the onslaught from Travis and the twins continues, the more and more obvious it is that her strategy doesn’t have staying power. Infusing her mana evenly into the environment is exposing it to getting discharged at a higher rate, which means she needs to keep pumping out more and more freshly synced mana to keep her dominance. Sure, the higher the pulse-rate of mana, the stronger the pull, and the more bang for her buck she’s getting with each mote, but I can already see her internal mana amperage pushing into Stage 2 mana sickness. If she doesn’t give up soon, she’ll go feral.
Warden’s Hammer keeps a respectable distance as it pulls parallel to the pirate ship, letting the mages on the aft deck contribute, but despite the pounding the enemy ship is taking (or the looming cannon a very eager artificer is pointing at them), the pirates still refuse to give up.
Growing irritated at having to contribute more than minimal effort, Vesril loses his patience, and pulls his weapon by the handle to lay atop his outstretched arm. Mana flows off his body onto the shield, levitating just off the surface to create three long condensing array lines to summon a cylinder of water in the center. He then adds in additional lines on each end to create forward-pointing triangular flanges, a wide and long set at the base to act as fuel for propulsion and a smaller set at the tip for stabilization.
And… I just now realized why they’re called Arrow spells…
The Ice Mage chuckles as he extends his left hand and molds a trio of Wind Arrays into a wind tunnel before he calls out, “Is that the best your feeble magic can do? Let me show you your place human.”
The [Water Arrow] launches, and an eye-blink later, a thunderous crack erupts from the pirate ship as a shotgun spray of wooden shards assault the rowers on the other side. The Wind Witch screams in agony as she’s hit with debris then looks up in horror as the mast holding up the sails topples over like a falling tree.
Capitalizing on the distraction, the commandos launch their attack, leaping over the knights and spartans, and diving into the water. Except for Raven Four, who goes full ninja and sprints across the lake surface, using his summoned cloak of Shadow to leave behind a mana clone each time he zigs and zags.
Beserking into a rage, Verian the scorcher draws his sword and summons a torrent of Fire Mana into his palm, crushing it till it concentrates into Light Mana, then launches it at the dozen Shadow clones leaping onto the ship. It’s not enough to fully negate the spell with the opposing mana type, but it is enough for Verian to quickly spot the real commando and slash with his sword.
Raven Four narrowly dodges by rolling onto the deck, then is forced to leap back when Verian continues his swing while activating the sword inscription to not only coat the weapon in flames but spew out Fire out the false edge like a gods and God-damned rocket, propelling his body to move in a fast 360 to try and finish his foe with an overhand chop.
Holy crap! That is the most awesomest weapon ever!
“I know! Right?” Travis chimes in, fully in sync with my excitement. “That’s definitely getting added to the list of possible inscriptions for my poleaxe.”
Really Travis? I get to watch a pirate get into a sword fight with a ninja, and you have to ruin the moment?
I ignore the traitorous bastard, opting to watch closely as Raven Four continues the fight, weaving and bobbing through Verian’s attacks by using his summoned cloak to obscure his movements, before creating a false arm with his mana, and tosses a dagger at an exposed limb. The weapon flies true, penetrating deep into the pirate’s leg, and causing him to cry out loudly in pain. The distraction is more than enough for the commando to go on the offensive, who kicks out the legs beneath the rapscallion, palms the enemy’s skull, then pulsates every mote of mana in his body at once to provide the force needed to bury Verian into the wooden deck with a heavy thud.
A pained groan escapes the pirate, letting me know he wasn’t dead (yet), but Raven Four takes no chances, breaking all four shins and forearms with heel stomps, then gently picks up the inscribed sword. He then checks his surroundings, nodding with approval that his team was able to successfully secure their onlooking targets by swimming under the ship and attacking from behind, then returns his attention back down.
“So,” Raven Four growls, “care to explain why a well-known pirate is traveling on a main thoroughfare?”
Verian wheezes but manages to get enough air to spit up blood and a single word, “Behemoth…”
Well… fuck. That’s not good.