Zed stared in fear at the Olympian. In the dark there wasn’t much to see of it and the moonlight spared only the littlest illumination but Zed saw better than most, his hypersensitivity attribute made sure of it. To his eyes no difference existed between the Olympian here and the ones they’d been watching.
Its faceless features did nothing to assuage Zed’s fear and Zed knew if he was not a mage, he would’ve pissed himself.
“I don’t want to argue with you,” Chris said, smug. “But I actually like the others, and unfortunately, they like the red head, so I’ll have to say no to your request.”
The Olympian turned its head to her momentarily then raised an open palm in her direction.
“Not a request,” it said, then the ambient mana trembled around its hand.
A rune Zed didn’t recognize appeared in its palm but the others must’ve recognized it because they were already moving before the rune’s completion.
The Olympian terminated the forming rune as each of its opponents darted in different directions. Its hand reached for the automatic rifle strapped to its thigh and hesitated. For whatever reason, it didn’t think they were worth drawing its weapon for.
The others didn’t seem to care about being looked down on. Jason blasted the Olympian’s leg with a greater concentration of a light beam than he usually used from behind it. The Olympian staggered forward but did not fall. It turned its head to him casually, as if it had merely heard its name. Chris darted into its space, taking advantage of the slight distraction, club already swinging.
The Olympian reacted with impossible speed and Oliver was already casting a spell before the Olympian’s fist met Chris’ stomach. Oliver’s spell exploded between it and Chris in an orb of purple, blasting them apart. Chris crossed the distance to land on her back while the Olympian skidded to a stop along the ground, its feet never having left it.
“You must feel powerful in that armor,” Chris goaded, rising to her feet.
The Olympian’s response was simple: “The redhead is coming with us.”
Oliver held both hands to the side and the ground shook around him.
“He’s not a redhead,” he said, pulling his hands forward, struggling against an invisible force. “He’s auburn.”
Both hands swung forward and a shockwave of purple mana struck the Olympian with enough force to finally lift it off its feet.
Zed’s injuries were healing sufficiently enough. He could get up easier now. He rose to his feet but leaned against a tree to keep from falling as he watched the Olympian go back into action with a high jump. Not too far from Zed, Ash stayed crouched, completely alert, waiting.
Jason dashed forward, blasting the Olympian with beams of light. Zed wasn’t sure what Jason planned for his beams to do, but whatever it was, they did nothing. They didn’t even push the Olympian higher.
The Olympian came down on its feet to Chris’ swinging club and it caught it in the palm of its hand casually.
“You waste my time,” it said and the air trembled around it.
Zed had already started casting, seeing a chance, his finger drawing a rune he was most comfortable with. By the time the Olympian was ready to activate whatever was distorting the air, Zed was done with his rune. He channeled his mana into the rune and activated it.
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* You have cast basic rune [Force].
* Basic rune [Force] has applied effect [Knockback] on enemy construct [Olympian].
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A burst of force shot from the rune, blasting the Olympian. Zed had put enough mana into the rune to overload its output and the result was no more than a breeze against the armor.
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* Enemy construct [Olympian] durability is too high.
* Enemy construct [Olympian] has resisted effect [Knockback].
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The Olympian turned its head to him.
“You can use runes?” It asked, a touch of surprise in its voice.
Chris took advantage of the momentary distraction and spun in the opposite direction. Her club left the Olympian’s hold in a heartbeat as she wheeled around and struck it again. The club connected with the Olympian’s back and sent it flying towards the shed.
“We’ve got to go!” Jason ordered, rushing to help Zed. “Now!”
They were already on the run before the Olympian hit the ground, and Zed spared a short backward glances at it. In the distance, as they fled, the Olympian stood stock still, watching their retreat.
…………………………………
“What the hell was that?” Zed gasped, struggling to catch his breath. Breathing had become a difficult task. He felt as if he lost more air each time he inhaled.
They were out of the woods now and were resting next to a boulder that stood alone and sedentary on a patch of land. The night was still barely visible in moonlight but they were alone now. Whether they were safe was a different conversation.
“That,” Chris said, bitterly, “was an Olympian.”
“I already know that,” Zed said a little too harshly, struggling with his need for air. “I’m asking why it wanted me. What the hell is wrong with this world and red hair.”
Oliver tapped him on the back. “Your hair’s auburn, dude.”
“I know that!” Zed hissed at him. He would have smacked Oliver’s hand away if not for the pain in his chest. He was already more than occupied in trying to get air.
“I guess the rumors are true,” Ash said.
“Rumors?” Zed asked, his head on a swivel between the rest of them. “What rumors?”
“Sometime last year,” Chris said with a sigh, “rumors started flying around that there’d been some kind of change in VHF management, nothing too serious. The rumor was that they had begun actively gathering people with red hair.”
“Just the men,” Ash said.
“And no one saw it fit to let me know, with the VHF playing annoying neighbors not too far from the town?” Zed asked, flabbergasted.
“Didn’t think it was important,” Chris said.
Zed’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t think it was important?! I’ve got RED HAIR!” he shouted, pointing at his hair. “Now I’ve got a maniac who probably knows my face and wants my hair.”
“In our defense,” Jason stepped in. “We didn’t think the rumors were true. It’s kind of hard to believe an organization as powerful as VHF is looking for men with red hair.”
Zed shook his head. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. These people had put him through a lot of things since he’d met them but he’d been able to overlook each one because they left no lasting damage, but this was wrong. Woefully wrong. They hadn’t even cared enough to give him this piece of information. They didn’t think the rumor was justified but telling him would’ve been simply cautionary. Anyone could have told him yet no one had.
He tried taking calming breaths to quell his annoyance and new found fear of the VHF and failed. His heart was racing, his blood pumping in his ear.
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* You have gained +1 Agility.
* You have gained +1 Strength.
* You have gained +1 Wil.
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“Not fucking now!” he barked, dismissing the notification.
Oddly enough, his mind seemed to slowly settle as the notifications whirled away into nothingness. His fear-fueled anger was subsiding and it took him a moment to realize what had happened. He didn’t know how he dealt with fear, specifically, but he knew how The Berserker dealt with fear. He burnt it for fuel and turned it to anger.
He’d been terrified a moment ago and now he was angry. The Berserker was handling his fear.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Zed took another calming breath and this time it worked. He leaned back against the boulder, the aching pain where he’d been struck still in his chest. He closed his eye to the pain and rested his head against the boulder. Silence followed him as if everyone was waited for what he would do next.
Each person around him was stronger than him. Zed reminded himself of this. Ash was stronger by two categories and the others by an entire rank. Festus could teach him all the runes he needed to know, but Festus wouldn’t take him hunting. And Heimdall had already insisted that he hunt with no other team than the one he found himself in.
This was the only team he had, and now he was beginning to not like it at all. However, it was what he had to work with. He couldn’t go solo hunting, not yet. And he couldn’t leave until he had a map and knew where he was going. The only town he knew was Hillview and there was no way he was going there.
With an internal frown, he made a decision.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I can’t really blame you guys for not taking the rumors seriously. Even now, I can’t imagine why anyone would want people with red hair.”
A hand touched the hem of his shirt as he spoke and his eyes shot open to find Ash holding his shirt up to stare at his chest.
“How did you not die?” she asked in worry and bafflement.
The others leaned in to take a look at Zed’s chest and Chris winced at whatever it was she saw.
“What?” Zed asked, panicking. “What’s wrong?”
Oliver looked at him with a pained expression. “There’s a literal hole in your chest, dude. Can’t you feel it?”
“Of course I can feel it,” Zed said. “It hurts like hell but there’s no hole.”
“I can literally feel the air coming out of your lungs,” Ash said, letting his shirt fall back down. “It’s terrifying.”
“You know what,” Zed scoffed, irritated. “Let’s just get back to town before we get in more trouble than we already are… I knew we shouldn’t have come here.”
The adrenaline pumping through him since the whole debacle had started—he hoped it was adrenaline—was already wearing off. Zed could feel it in the fatigue growing on him. He needed to get back and rest, maybe refine his core and see if that helped.
“Let’s just get back,” he mumbled, now tired of everything.
He took a shaky step forward and fell.
…………………………………..
Chris stared between Jason, Ash and Oliver.
“Who’s carrying him?” she asked.
“Oliver,” Ash said, and Oliver sighed.
“You know you’re not that much older than me, right?” he said, bending down to pick Zed up. He grunted as he did and the others stared at him in surprise. “What? The dude weighs like a ton.”
“That’s odd,” Chris said. “You shouldn’t have any difficulty picking up a Beta mage. They're heavy but you’re a Rukh. You’re heavier.”
“Then you take him.”
“Oh, definitely not,” she refused with raised hands. “If you say he weighs a ton, I believe you.”
“Stop your bickering and let’s go,” Jason said, displeased. “We’ve got a problem and Heimdall needs to know about it.”
“And what problem is that?” Chris asked as they followed after him.
“The problem,” Jason bit out, “is that the VHF have power armor that can sneak up on all of us even while I’m actively using aura sense. And it took three of his Rukh mages to create a chance to escape against one of them.”
……………………………………….
Ivan tossed back another shot of vodka. At his rank it did as much as a shot of vodka in a jug of water could, but he indulged because of old habits. He placed his glass back on the desk. On the other side of it Heimdall poured him another glass.
“You look more worried than usual,” he told Heimdall. “Is it the VHF?”
“They got here too fast,” Heimdall said, jaw clenched.
“Well, that’s kind of what they do, friend. Go to places they shouldn’t be faster than anyone should be able to, when they’re least wanted.”
“Yea,” Heimdall scoffed, and took a shot from his glass. “Thanks, by the way.”
Ivan picked his refilled glass and held it up to his lips.
“What for?” he asked.
“I heard your daughter’s crush came asking for your help to train the new kid,” Heimdall said. “Jason, too. I’m just saying it couldn’t have been easy leaving the kid to Festus for now. Knowing you, I’m sure you would’ve wanted to deal with it immediately.”
“It’s no big deal.” Ivan shrugged. “You’ve always wanted a proper rune mage since I’ve known you. And Festus thinks the kid might have what it takes. He doesn’t have the distractions of having spellforms so he’ll be able to focus twice as good and work twice as hard. Sounds like a good thing for us.”
“Yea,” Heimdall mused. “I just hope the kid doesn’t learn Festus’ bad behaviors.”
Ivan laughed at that, then downed his shot.
“From what I’ve heard of the kid, he’s already got enough bad behaviors of his own,” he said, reaching for the bottle of vodka and filling Heimdall’s cup.
“Well, it couldn’t have been easy delaying your daughter’s crush’s request,” Heimdall said. “So at least, thanks for that. I know how much you love the girl.”
Ivan sighed that resigned and tired sigh only fathers know how to. “It really wasn’t as hard as you think. Besides, she’s no longer all that into Oliver, she’s gone and gotten herself a new boy to crush over, a bigger child than Oliver. Sometimes I worry for her taste in men.”
Heimdall gave him a confused look. “Another hunter?”
“No,” Ivan shook his head. “Well, at least I hope not. I haven’t seen this one yet.”
“Well, don’t worry too much about it. You liked Oliver, I’m sure you’ll like the next guy.”
“Maybe. I just hope he doesn’t decide to be her new best friend. Part of the reason I liked that Oliver kid was because he spent very little time with her. I don’t need some guy coming to put my little girl’s head in the clouds.”
“Yea,” Heimdall said with a forlorn look. “Especially now that the VHF’s breathing down our neck.”
“You’ve got to stop beating yourself up about this. I heard it’s just the one platoon. I doubt they’re here for us. We’re too far out of their current jurisdiction for them to be thinking of expanding this far out already.”
“Maybe. But do you see the looks on the others. Bruce has gone blabbering to every woman that’ll open their legs for him and suddenly everyone’s smiling like its Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory coming to town.”
“I told you the man talked too much,” Ivan spat. “No man should babble as much as he does.”
Heimdall rubbed his head as if he had a headache which wasn’t possible because mages didn’t get headaches.
“I know,” he groaned. “But he’s got the best aura sense out of everyone. That’s why I leave him on sentry duty. If only he could focus half the attention he uses chasing girls on keeping an eye out, I’d have left him out there to watch for the VHF guys, too.”
“That’s fair,” Ivan agreed, taking another shot.
A moment of silence slipped in between both of them. It was the silence that exists between two friends when their topic of conversation is done and they’re both giving each other the curtesy of beginning another one.
Heimdall was more than happy to sit in silence and drink the whole bottle of vodka so Ivan took it on himself to change the topic.
“I heard the description of the VHF armor,” he said.
Heimdall put his glass down and groaned.
“Wow,” Ivan chuckled. “That bad?”
“That bad,” Heimdall agreed. “Craig said they snuck up on him and the rest of his team.”
“Anybody can sneak up on Craig,” Ivan scoffed. “Craig wouldn’t hear a stampede even if he was part of it.”
“True,” Heimdall said. “But he had the others with him. I find it hard to believe they were all stupid.”
Ivan scratched his jaw, his stubbles grazed against the palm of his hand. “You think the rumors are true?”
“Stealth type armor? Yes. They were damn near almost done with it the last time I saw them. I wouldn’t put it past them to have already perfected it.”
“That’s a scary thought.”
“True. But since they’re not here for expansion, they’d only have sent an Olympian squad. We’d need to worry when we start hearing of nearby takeovers.”
“So no Renegades coming in,” Ivan sighed, annoyed at the relief he heard in his own voice. “Then what do you think they’re here for?”
“Obviously the mana surge,” Heimdall said after another glass. “We definitely weren’t the only ones who felt it break. And if we weren’t, I’m sure some petty mage out there with too much greed and too little ambition must have sent in a report just to claim the reward.”
“Poor guy,” Ivan chuckled. “He’d have just wasted their time. We’ve already combed the entire place for miles around. There’s nothing here. There wasn’t any monolith nearby when we found this place, and even if we assume it had already broken down then, there’s no concentrated spot of mana to imply the existence of a monolith’s core.”
“Well, Ash and the others didn’t check that weird forest,” Heimdall muttered.
“I had Andre’s team check it when you sent them out to fix up the shed,” Ivan said. “They didn’t see anything. Just the weird trees getting weirder. I’ve always wondered how they became like that with such low ambient mana over there.”
“Does it matter? All I know is that it’s a good thing. The VHF can comb the entire place and find nothing. Maybe they’ll go back when they do. I don’t need them hanging around long enough that the people start to think they might want to stick around.”
“Yea,” Ivan drawled. “With all that civilization they bring, these guys just might be willing to overlook the kind of monsters they are just to get a chance at what civilization used to be.”
“Maybe it’s not a bad thing.”
“Not a bad thing?!” Ivan hissed. “I’d wash your mouth out with soap if you weren’t already drinking vodka and I know you don’t mean it. You saw what they did to Tetsildown. Those guys were already establishing their own rule, peacefully living a happy life when they came with their promises of order and civilization. And what happened when Tetsildown turned them away?”
“They burned them down.”
“To the fucking ground,” Ivan spat. “Men, women and children. There’s nothing good about the VHF that justifies letting them in, and you know just as much as I do.”
“Yea,” Heimdall agreed, darkly. “I do.”
………………………………………
Festus’ study was dark and murky, uncontrolled ambient mana swirling about. He needed to fix the mana runes he kept at his windows to draw in more ambient mana but he could do that later. For now, his focus was on more important things. In front of him was a length of glowing orange thread that wasn’t a thread, and he stared at it with a satisfied smirk.
Heimdall had told him to abandon this specific endeavor and work on things that were more useful to the town. He’d said what he was aiming to achieve was impossible. Sigils were bits and pieces of a rune. Just as wards were made of runes, runes were made of sigils, and sigils were the only binding components used to hold runes together to create wards. Every single variation of a rune was made from tweaking one or two sigils. As such, his adventure was ludicrous. A waste.
But Festus had never listened to him. He’d made it his mission to discover how the VHF had been able to keep themselves from experiencing slip-space when the rest of the world had. And to do that, he needed to find the secret of rune-scripts. He needed to know how they had put wards together, wards made of advanced runes for that matter.
And he was close.
In the memory of Heimdall’s lack of faith, Festus scoffed, a mild orange light bright against his face from the thread that was not thread in front of him.
“Well loo’ a-t me na’,” he muttered proudly.
His experiment wasn’t complete, but it was almost done. Just a little longer and he would have something worthwhile. Something any rune mage would be willing to kill for just to learn.
Until then, he released the component and the thread of light dimmed into nonexistence, falling apart without his will to hold it together. A slow smile split Festus’ lips and he wondered just how much more terrified of him the children would be if they ever saw it.