Orion nervously lifted his head, his trembling eyes fixed on the now-clear skies dotted with numerous wooden steps. He glanced sideways at the asura, who murmured what he assumed were sutras, though Orion couldn't make out the words clearly.
Turning towards Scott, the mage noticed the motionless figure, with dark tendrils swirling across his arms as if vying for position. Ignoring the eerie sight, Orion focused on Scott's right eye.
Instinctively, the mage stepped back, his chest pounding as cold sweat drenched his back. Scott's crystalline pupil had vanished, replaced by intricate, blackened cracks. Strangely, no fluids oozed from the cracks; instead, they seemed to open a gateway to a foreboding dimension. The more Orion stared, the more he felt suffocated, as if unspeakable horrors lurked within those fissures.
“What have I done?” the mage muttered, regret seeping into his thoughts as he questioned his decision to confront the eldritch knight.
After a momentary pause, Scott blinked, his dazed expression fading. He collapsed to his knees, coughing, while creaks emanated from his shoulder blades. Orion and the asura rushed to his side, halting abruptly at the sight of Scott's outstretched arm.
“What happened?” Scott croaked; his voice barely audible.
Exchanging glances, Orion and the asura silently concurred.
“I apologize for my earlier actions,” Orion said, bowing his head. “My pursuit of data clouded my judgment.”
“I don't care about that,” Scott interrupted. “I want to know why I feel like crap and why my right eye feels strange,” he demanded.
“I'm sorry, I have no right to answer that,” Orion said, dropping to his knees. The mage placed his forehead on the ground as he continued, “Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Orion, the eighth apostle of the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign. I extend greetings to you, who has been chosen by the unspeakable one.”
Scott managed to lift his head, his gaze landing on Orion who remained in a subservient position.
Confusion etched on his face as he wondered, What the hell is going on?
The last thing he remembered was seeing the golden orb he received from Deevok. He distinctly recalled the examiner mentioning that the orb would allow him to encounter more followers of the mad god. Yet here was Orion, seemingly devoted to someone else.
“Are you also a follower of the mad god?” Scott inquired after a brief silence.
“Yes,” Orion replied without hesitation.
“Is Hastur the mad god?” Scott pressed further.
“I dare not speak,” Orion answered promptly.
“Is the mad god an eldritch being?” Scott probed again.
“I dare not speak,” Orion repeated, unwavering.
Scott frowned; frustration evident on his features. “Then what can you say?”
“I dare not speak of anything related to or concerning he who shouldn't be named. However, I can assist you in your journey. The rest of the brotherhood would be delighted to meet you,” Orion said.
Scott contemplated the mage's words, his mind swirling with more questions. Yet, he knew it was futile to expect answers from the data-driven mage. Eldritch regeneration soon kicked in, relieving the pain in his shoulders and the light dizziness. Scott stood up, his gaze shifting toward the hovering steps clustered above the decimated jungle.
“Are you planning to assault us again in your quest for data?” Scott asked.
“I dare not,” Orion replied promptly.
“We should leave. There's no point staying here anymore,” Scott suggested.
Without another word, Scott's body gradually became intangible as he ascended into the skies. Meanwhile, Orion lifted his head, directing his attention towards the asura.
“Are you going to disclose your allegiance to him?” Orion inquired. “It took me some time, but I finally understood why I couldn't persuade you. It's only a matter of time before he discovers it,” the mage remarked, adjusting his glasses. He too rose to his feet before taking flight.
“He's correct. We should disclose it,” the rightmost head interjected.
“Nonsense. Who asked for your input?” the leftmost head retorted before fixing its gaze on the centermost head. “It's your decision. Only you know what's right,” it added.
Silently, the asura also ascended into the skies, following Scott and Orion, who leaped from one wooden step to the next.
“I overheard that lizardman mentioning something about a wind calamity. What's that about?” Scott suddenly inquired.
“I'm glad you asked,” Orion replied, sporting his usual whimsical smile. “Unlike the thunderbolt from the initial stage, a wind-based attack repels all challengers who surpass the two-thousand-foot mark. It shouldn't pose a problem for you or the asura. However, there are dire consequences if we're struck, though,” Orion elaborated.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Such as?” Scott asked before continuing, “When did you start speaking in fragments? You should communicate everything at once,” Scott remarked as he passed the thousand-foot mark.
Orion chuckled softly as he continued his explanation, “The steps will detonate as soon as one of us is hit, and we'll need to sacrifice even more individuals to create new ones. Who knows how long that will take.”
“I understand now,” Scott muttered. “Do you have any strategies to transport us closer to the third island?”
Orion chuckled even harder. “I thought you'd never ask. Of course, I've already gathered sufficient data.”
“Uh-huh, what kind of mage are you again?” Scott queried, stealing a quick glance at the grinning man.
“I'd consider myself more of a data scientist than a mage, though technically, you could label me as an archmage. There's nothing beyond my scope of understanding, after all” Orion declared with a smug grin.
Scott's eyebrows shot up. He knew the eccentric man must possess a unique class, but he hadn't expected him to be at the pinnacle of sorcery of all things. “Are all members of the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign like you?” Scott suddenly inquired.
“They wouldn't hold a candle to my knowledge base, even if they had several lifetimes,” Orion retorted, somewhat offended by Scott's question. “What an absurd notion, to assume everyone in the brotherhood is as brilliant and remarkable as I am,” he muttered to himself.
“How many people are in the brotherhood?” Scott persisted, disregarding the mage's irritation.
“I'm not certain,” Orion admitted, wearing a pensive expression.
Scott stopped in his tracks, turning towards the mage. Of all the things he had expected, he never anticipated the mage admitting his own ignorance.
“You don't know?” Scott questioned, folding his arms across his chest.
Orion too halted his ascent, standing next to the eldritch knight on an adjacent step. “It's not that I'm unaware, but our members are scattered across multiple floors, and there are no official records,” he explained. “And if I'm being honest, only the twelve apostles truly matter. The rest, regardless of their power or status, are all servants at the mercy of the apostles. Essentially, you should only concern yourself with the identity of the apostles and nobody else.”
Scott nodded in comprehension. If he were in Orion's shoes, he wouldn't bother investigating the different servants attached to each apostle, no matter how obsessed he was with data. After all, it was possible for each servant to have a servant of their own, who in turn had a servant. Though their importance diminished down the hierarchy, there was no denying they were at least members of the brotherhood, either officially or by association.
“So, how are the apostles ranked?” Scott asked after a long pause, coinciding with the asura’s arrival. Now, all three champions stood close to each other.
“By Potential,” Orion replied with a smile. “The greater potential one has, the more likelihood they would rank higher. Well, that’s based on my own understanding. Officially, we are given a rank once approved by the first five apostles—”
“Why do the five of them get to make that decision?” Scott interjected.
Orion wore a dry smile while rearranging his black hair. “They simply have the power to do whatever they want. According to my data, only those on the verge of becoming a lesser god or lesser gods themselves can go toe to toe with them.”
Scott’s brows shot up. Although he had no yardstick to measure the strength of the lesser gods, he could tell they were incredibly powerful by how much the examiners respected them.
“What about the god they serve? In the grand scheme of things, how do they compare to the other gods?” Scott asked.
Orion simply smiled before jumping three steps ahead; then he turned toward his companions. “I’ll take care of the wind calamity. Please go ahead of me,” he said.
Scott and the asura nodded, racing ahead of the mage. Scott once again shifted to an intangible form while the asura summoned its halberd, each one brimming with earth elemental energy once again.
“We can’t afford to get hit,” Scott warned softly, turning toward the champion. The asura nodded, and both champions charged past the calamity threshold.
Wind cyclones, glorious in all their forms, numbered over a hundred, materializing in front of the two champions. While Scott seamlessly breezed through the torrent, the asura unleashed strike after strike, struggling to contain the raging windstorm. Although its advance wasn’t as smooth as Scott’s, it showed no signs of succumbing to the relentless elemental attack.
Meanwhile, Orion wore a smile as he watched the two champions brave the calamity while shortening the distance to the next island. “This calamity is even more boring now that I’ve sufficient data,” he muttered. “Is that going to be the case on the next island?” he pondered aloud.
“Should I feign ignorance to heighten the suspense on the next island?” Orion muttered, crossing the threshold of chaos. Cyclones surged toward the mage, but he paid them no heed, instead rubbing his chin as he weighed his options. His robes billowed relentlessly amidst the tempest, and amid the tumult, several portals opened in midair, ejecting seven individuals dressed in assorted garb.
Orion, Scott, and the asura lazily lifted their heads. A smirk played upon the mage's lips, his voice somehow carrying over the windstorm. “Which one of you managed to provoke the Shadow Syndicate?” he inquired, genuine amusement lacing his words.
The asura narrowed its gaze, perplexed by the mage's ability to discern the newcomers' allegiance so effortlessly. Amidst the confusion, the mage's laughter rang out. “It's evident they're not here for me, and judging by their frantic search, they're unlikely to be seeking the asura either,” he mused to himself.
Turning to his right, Scott's tangible form flickered for a moment before vanishing into the void. “They must be after him. Well then, let's make their pursuit a tad more thrilling,” he grinned, raising both arms toward the newcomers, who helplessly plummeted toward the ravaged forest below.
“My acquaintances from the Shadow Syndicate,” Orion's voice boomed in the ears of the champions, who struggled to conceal their astonishment. “It's regrettable, but you've chosen the most inopportune moment to make an appearance. Since we cannot extend a warm welcome, I shall at least grant you a parting gift.”
The mage's smile widened as he lowered his staff. The cyclone breached the two-thousand-feet barrier, as if summoned by a deity of the winds, hurtling toward the immobile champions. Bloody patches soon stained the raging tempest as it collided violently with the earth, causing the ground to quake and numerous sinkholes to form.
“It's time,” Orion muttered, lifting his head. “Prepare yourselves, our ride is here,” he shouted.
As his voice echoed, multiple high-pressure air pockets tore through the earth, hurtling toward the champions at an unrelenting pace. The air currents enveloped the champions, including Scott, who had materialized once more, propelling them toward the obscured island concealed within the dense fog. With each passing moment, the air thickened, and frost and snow encased the champions' bodies. Moments later, Scott, Orion, and the asura found themselves above a snow-white dreamscape, teeming with icy terrain. Racing toward the ground once more, they were met by hundreds of awaiting champions, eager for their arrival.