Crammed in the back of a transport wagon between boxes Tim rode westward. Two soldiers sat across from him. They looked less than thrilled. In the back of the wagon was an assortment of tools, replacement parts, and generic scrap. Everting stamped with the AG logo Tim was ordered to guard. The soldiers were ordered to guard Tim.

As Tim swayed to the rocking of the wagon the sense of the situation enveloped him. In the distance, the drumming of magical explosions grew louder. The booms ran like the tick of an erratic clock ate away at his nerves. With time to dwell on things, his mind got to work pumping itself full of anxiety.

The wagon traveled along the wide main street of the upper rim. They were headed to the end of the escarpment that overlooked the swamplands below. The shelf was narrow and rocky with scraggly little plants growing in patches. Steep scree flowed down from the vantage and small white pebbles trickled down with every concussive blast of artillery. Behind the cannons was a small tent. Beside it, the wagon stopped and Tim got out.

What he was here to do was upgrade the conduits on the artillery. But unfortunately, they weren’t enchanted items. The construction was curious, yet simplistic, and had that distinctive military feel. The weapons were shaped like cannons, but a metal pole was attached inside the barrel. The breach held monster cores for fuel or mages could flow mana in through the cascable. With a few tools, Tim easily opened it.

The copper central shaft inside the barrel had a dozen spell plates attached. Mana would flow through the shaft and into the spell plates. It was no more complicated than a portable heater but sequenced and repeated to generate a bigger effect. The central shafts came in various elemental types. The one Tim was working on now had flame shot plates.

It was an intriguing project for Tim to work on, but it clearly didn’t meet the criteria of his research paper. It really did feel like he was being targeted for death. Tim glanced around at the soldiers near him. Five operated artillery while five rested. Two provided guard and one was a squad leader. They were wary of each other at first but bonded quickly.

The warmages which manned the artillery became recklessly giddy as they tested out Tim’s first upgrade. Since then they fawned over Tim as if his help could singlehandedly finish this war. Tanabe, a young warmage, became particularly enamored and spent his breaks looking over Tim’s shoulder. Tim liked his altitude and freely explained what he was doing.

Tim used the wagon as his table as he demonstrated his work. Under Tanabe’s watchful eyes he popped another thinly curved metal plate from the central shaft. It landed on the wagon bed with a thunk. With a hammer and punch, he pounded holes into the top and base of the plate. The hammer was for show, Form did the actual work. Likewise, it was Form, not the pliers that bent wires into perfect links to connect the spell plates. Mana should flow in sequence, amplifying the effects of the spell plates, he explained.

To the central shaft where the plates attached Tim added mana conduits. He didn’t care if they would last or not, they were effective now and that is what mattered. He wound wide conduits through the shaft, twisting their edges to prevent mana loss. Finally, he slid the linked plates back onto the shaft and tapped them back down onto their pins.

The design was a good idea for what was available with the primitive knowledge. But, Tim learned so much about magic so easily, why couldn’t they? Were they simply unwilling to breach common dogma? There were so many great improvements Tim could have added to make this weapon truly terrible. But he held off and did nothing that would be too unexpected. This was military property and it was sure to be given a thorough inspection later.

Tim sighed as he loaded the central shaft back into cannon and closed the breach. At the edge of the ledge a cannon roared and below a rumbling blast erupted. Small rocks rolled down the scree. An enchanter is the greatest weapon maker of any age, a unique individual born only once every several generations. His work would be used to end life, and now that his hands became stained with blood he didn’t feel much different. He didn’t feel like a monster or disassociate himself from the act. Tim simply worked away as his upgrades reduced demons to shreds of meat. The only disappointment he felt was that he couldn’t earn experience points indirectly.

“Another one finished,” Tim yelled out

“This one’s mine!” yelled Tanabe over the din of battle. He happily ran over and started pushing it to the edge of the cliff. Tim smiled to see the soldiers’ acceptance. He didn’t feel worried, despite the situation. Tim had worked out a few plans in advance, in case something should happen. But he felt that these soldiers would have his back, should anyone should make it this far, however unlikely.

Far below the layers of strata crumbled and fell down into the swamp that ringed the south of the lake. The lake probably had a name, but Tim never learned it. And the people in town simply referred to it as ‘the lake’. Human soldiers were at the edges at the upper four layers and engaged in a battle of attrition with the demons.

The humans had a superior position, with bows and magic casters raining down shots from above. Infantry packed into the lowest layer and repulsed the demon’s attempts to climb out of the muck. Magic and metal bombarded the demons below, only to ripple and dissipate against complex compound barriers. Periodic squads of two or three demons would charge, trying to breach the first plateau.

But thanks to Tim’s improvements these charges halted as the demons no longer made it to the cliff face. The two sides stood in stalemate and the traded the occasional magical blast. The white bedrock grew increasingly pockmarked and scorched. Tim opened up the next piece of equipment. This one had plates for a ray of fire. A simple spell, but when amplified it would pack a punch. Maybe after Tim finished all of the artillery units this fight could finally end. At least his part in it would be over, another few hours and he’d be headed home.

“Incoming!” yelled warmage Tanabe as he dove backward. A series of massively concussive blasts rocked the area. The cliff's edge was enveloped in flashes that grew into violent blooms of fire. Soldiers dragged the remaining cannons away from the edge as the barrage ate away at their position.

But the ground crumbled blow Tanabe’s feet and he started to fall. He slipped but for a moment before the ground stopped sliding and he scrambled away from the edge. He lamented the loss of his improved artillery more than his close call with death. He never would get the chance to thank Form for saving him from the fall.

“They’ve got a ritual circle! Everyone, fall back!” The commander yelled.

Down in the swamp, under a prismatic barrier, a group of demon mages worked their spell. So great was their concentration of mana that Tim could feel it even as he helped load equipment back onto the wagon. Vibrations from the ground and air shook Tim continually, blasts of pebbles and hot ozone assaulted him. Then just as suddenly as it started it stopped. Tim turned to look, blood leaking from his ruptured ears. Muffled screams of human and demon alike filled the bastion as the sky cracked.

Across the azure, a fissure rippled like a computer virus and ate its way across the sky. Pixelated blocks of reality that stretched upon an unknown dimension flickered in an out of existence. A hole appeared in the sky like a gunshot in a screen. A web of cracks etched out in a cascade of unnatural color.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Humans and demons alike were flooded with unnatural terror as the fissure widened. The cells around the cracks shifted and shined. Unholy rainbows bathed the bastion in blocks of surreal light. But the holes and cracks were filled with darkness. From the hole, a single drop of absolute darkness dripped from the sky and fell upon the ritual circle.

As the drip fell the infection across the sky receded and the world regained its natural colors. The drip landed on a demon too scared to scurry away. It ate him. Devoured whole, the demon’s soul was snuffed out before it could move on. The destruction was so complete that it ate into his very existence, his past was stretched thin and his friends forgot his name. The drip took the rough shape of the demon it ate and jumped at the others. Tentacles of infinite darkness flailed out and withered everything they touched.

At the edge of the highest cliff, Tim stood covered in dust. To his eye, he held a collapsible spyglass. Down below, the swamp trees withered to ash. A clearing opened up as demons ran around the being of darkness, bombarding it with blasts of magic. The explosions rippled across its formless existence without a trace. Blasts failed to detonate, fire didn’t burn and ice didn’t form. In a frenzy, they lunged at the creature only to be met with lashings of tentacles so black they absorbed the very light around them. Every demon struck withered and wilted. Mummified their bodies blackened and turned to ash. The dust of their former beings dissipated into nothingness.

Defenses shattered the demons moved to retreat, and the humans sent them a going away party. Bombardments rained down from every level cutting a wide swath. Acers of swampland became gouged and flattened. Stinky slimy smoke rose into the sky. Then the artillery finished its set up and launched a fresh volley. The upgraded arms wrecked devastation and what could best be described as the creature’s face turned to look at Tim.

Without running it was unnaturally swift as if the very laws of energy and motion didn’t apply. It moved through the swamp, weaving between trees and brush leaving behind nothingness. As it passed everything blackened to ash and melted away. Even the swamp water grew congealed and corroded into nonexistence. A barren path of melted earth trailed behind the creature as it approached the scree.

A signal horn sounded and all fire concentrated on the creature as it scaled the cliff as easily as it moved through the swamp. Great gouges of scarred rock appeared under each step. Tendrils that dragged along wore wide furrows. Arrows sunk into the inky void of its form and the creature did not slow. A fantastic variety of spells assailed it, but it did not slow.

The creature reached the first level. Tentacles of the void reached out with their own mind and swept away any human in the area. Soldiers tried to flee, but it was too fast. In an instant, dozens vanished. It walked effortlessly up the nearly vertical wall and in moments it was at the second level. Archers fled in a panic from its juggernaut’s advance.

A great trough grew out from behind the creature as it reached the third plateau. Its steps continued to eat away at the soil and rock long after it had passed.

“Mr. Nelson, run!” yelled Tanabe as he grabbed his pack to flee along with the others.

Besides Tim, the soldiers had abandoned the weaponry and fled. The captain had freed the horse from the wagon and galloped away. Tanabe grabbed Tim’s shoulder, and with a fearful look urged him to move. As the creature breached the third level Tim dropped the spyglass and ran. He flew past the abandoned wagon and loads of guild equipment. The equipment he was ordered the guard. His wage slave collar tightened and he fell.

“Mr. Nelson!”

“Shit, I can’t leave. No, the equipment. Shit shit shit!”

“I can help, we can make it!”

“No, it’s too much, get out of here Tanabe. I’ll try to hold it off.” Tim pounded his fist on the boards of the wagon as he climbed inside. Beside him sat the disassembled flame shot artillery cannon. Tim balked for a moment, but Form spoke to him. It told him to fight. It told him it would help. It told him it would win. Before he knew it, the central rod was in Tim’s hand and he was remaking it.

“It’s too late for that.”

At the edge of the cliff, a few stones fell without a sound. Then the ground below a cannon melted away. The cannon began to fall, but tendrils of inky nothingness reached out and stopped it without effort or strain. Tentacles filled the barrel and for a moment the creature paused as the contents of the weapon corroded. Slowly the weapon withered into nothingness.

Tanabe fired endlessly at the beast as it crested the ledge. Flames spiraled out of the iron barrel and flew at the monstrosity. But as the flames licked against the creature they were snuffed out as if they were in a vacuum.

The horror beast casually finished the first cannon. Seemingly bored it leaned at an unnatural angle and wiggled through the flames towards Tanabe. As the young warmage screamed Tim worked. The end of the rod he coated in targeting sigils. The plates he linked together in a brilliantly interwoven matrix. Inside he etched metaphysical double walled conduits for efficient mana flow. The fire sigils on the plates doubled. But Tim was too slow.

Strands of darkness like dreadlock hair reached out from the nothingness of the creature’s body. They dove down the flames and into the barrel of Tanabe’s cannon. Cracks spread along the barrel as the metal wasted. Fire flicked out of the cracks as the metal thinned and shattered. Unable to contain the magical force any longer the barrel gave way in a plume of fire and shrapnel. Tanabe lay smoldering on the ground, unconscious.

Only the copper shaft of the artillery cannon remained. But that was engulfed by the shadow and dissipated. Then the shade moved again, and in the back of Tim’s mind, Form screamed. The wind became still and sent was snuffed out. Behind the creature, the ledge continued to dissolve. It moved slowly as if waiting for Tim to finish the weapon. Almost as an afterthought, a tendril brushed against Tanabe.

There was no time to reassemble the cannon. All Tim had was the finished central shaft, improved but uninsulated. The connections to the monster cores were still inside the breach. With his own mana, he fueled it. An intense ray of flames shot forth, shimmering heat in all directions. But it was not enough; the creature was almost upon him.

Form acted on its own and leached mana from Tim. As the monster walked along the narrow ledge From threw the stone wall against it. A massive chunk of bedrock tried to slam the creature over the ledge. But it never reached. Tentacles that were once reaching for Tim wrapped around the creature. Only a misty shadow remained as its form grew hazy and the air grew black. The stone passed into the shadow and vanished.

Tim dripped sweat from the heat of the flames. His skin goose bumped at the unnatural sight. This wasn’t enough. He couldn’t maintain this, he needed more mana. He called upon Form to add absorption sigils, but Form wasn’t listening. It was busy. Tim called upon the nearly forgotten Shape and started to add an absorption sigil network. But it was difficult work. Form had made him lazy, and he had forgotten how intense the concentration of detail work was.

As Form slammed rock and wind into the shadow from all directions it slowly inched closer. From the void, tentacles of oblivion wriggled towards the wagon and Tim. Unable to push the creature away Form started to push the wagon away. But the tendrils encroached, and as Form plotted to throw them from the cliff and trust to fate a beam of incredible intensity shredded the air.

The laser-like line of fire cut through the air and shrank back the tentacles. Tim, wreathed in the shimmering barrier granted by the overcharged ring of protection. He sweated gallons under the heat and his hand burned as the central shaft glowed white hot. Smoke drifted up from the wooden planks on the wagon as they began to char.

The beam reached the shadow and the mist began to dissipate and the creature’s outline once again became visible. Fire licked at it and slapped around before being extinguished. But the creature started to walk forward again. Desperate, Tim called upon Form again. This time Form listed. Copper scrap parts atomized and became wires that dangled from the spell rod. The wires dug down into the bedrock as an earth mana absorption sigil network appeared on the base.

Sigils doubled and sharpened in features and the power of the flames grew. The creature of the void could no longer press closer. The beam of flames finally made solid contact with the creature. Tim closed his eyes and embraced the death he once feared. No longer would he be too shaken to act. No, he wouldn’t die in vain.

But the cost was great. The tip of the central shaft grew blindingly white. Across the city, the light from the distant cliff shined brighter than the sun. The fire became plasma and the intensity of the infernal beam caused the air to crackle and pop. The heat overcame the ring of protection and Tim’s skin seared in an instant. His woolen clothes blackened and burnt. Pain overwhelmed him and then he felt nothing. Tim’s nerves melted away but still, he wouldn’t let go of the spell rod. His eyes burnt and bubbled in their sockets. He could no longer smell as his nose blistered away.

The flames of the burning wagon welcomed Tim as he fell backward. The central shaft had melted into a coppery puddle. From, feeling something akin to sympathy or gratitude snuffed out the fire. It removed the stone it had used to insulate itself, and consequently Tim’s hand. Then Form wrapped cool air around its bearer and waited.