I step toward the rock wall, the silence in the open cavern discomforting. My head shifts over to Sacate, who has the best senses, both paranormal and physical. He nods to me as Dakota shimmies past the group.
"We need to hurry. Motherbound are likely listening to us right now and finding the best way to us. Abraham can only deter them so far. Please hurry."
Waving my head in acknowledgment, I kneel to face Dakota, the once small fox no longer small anymore. He's whining, likely because I was about to leave without him, which is for the best. He should stay with Virgil's siblings and Esther to help keep them safe, along with Frank and Servil, the last Sister Of Silence.
"Sorry buddy, not this time, okay? I'll meet up with you soon, so you just keep Esther safe, okay?"
The fox, far too intelligent compared to almost every other beast I've ever met, hangs his head low. I ruffle the fur on his neck, the softness a surprise as always. Dakota then steps away with a low grumble and taps his paws toward Esther, who Aron holds up.
Good. He'll keep them safe. Frank and Servil have a whole group to protect; even with Silas' help, I worry if it will be enough. But Dakota gives me that little nudge to make me believe it will all be fine on that end. The fox is resilient, and one has to be if they follow me almost everywhere I go. Even Johnny sometimes wonders what's up with Dakota and how he can keep up so well. I think it's because he's so young, for the younger one is, the more malleable the soul, the faster they adapt and grow with their Sigils. It's a reason why humans are so unfortunate, as our bodies can rarely handle Ether before adulthood, while beasts can do it from a very early age.
I shake away the thoughts of Dakota and human existence as my gaze hardens on the stone before me. And when presented an opportunity to test out my new skills, the two that I just now named Breakneck and Madness, I take it.
Ether swirls through my body as I take a deep gasp of Ether, focusing my mind on condensing the Ether within me, but Strugglers Gasp is not enough to turn my Ether from liquid to gaseous on its lonesome. The internal environment is not stressed enough to do so. So, I take it a step further and propel my mind into the reaches of the Bloody Palm with Insight, reaching for a thought to be imagined with Madness.
A grisly idea enters my mind, one of a man starving to death with the skin tightening so far that bones rip through the flesh. And with the focus of Insight, the situation becomes a reality, but only for my hand.
Bone peaks out from each of my fingers as my hands shrivel; however, the feeling is unlike what I expect, even if it's unpleasant. I feel a pulsating strength from the bones sticking out that desires violence. I don't push that thought away but instead embrace it as I clench my fist. The Ether within also seems to finally condense with my compact concentration, the combination of Strugglers Gasp and a Madness standing enough to transmogrify the substance.
I feel a lightness fill my body, not one that physically makes me lighter, but one that makes me so much more robust and quicker that I think I've lost half my weight. So now, with only one use of Madness distracting me, as the silver tattoo on my arm has no adverse or odd effects, I can finally pay close attention to Breakneck.
And oh my, is it beautiful. Before, I merely moved the gaseous Ether by instinct, having it fly through my body like when it was liquid. But I change that as I notice simply how smooth it is. I can barely describe how it streams through my body.
Liquid Ether slides along the body's internals, producing waste and making it harder for the body to withstand it as the friction of the moving substance breaks the body down. But that issue is greatly alleviated with gaseous Ether, for little Ether touches the internals and moves through the paths of the body. The simplest way to describe the difference is by comparing an unsharpened and a sharpened blade. The liquid Ether's dull edge struggles to pass through the material as it contacts much more of the target than the honed with touches far less of the target when slicing.
Tighter, my fist clenches as I feel my physical power elevate with Breakneck, so much so that the bone peeking out from the tips of my fingers stabs into my flesh. Sucking in a harsh breath, I prepare to break the wall.
Virgil has it easy with Flicker. He can just stride directly through whatever he wants—such a valuable skill. I would say I wished that I had it, but I'm not clever enough to take advantage of it. Something like Strugglers Gasp is much better for me.
And with that skill, I force the Ether from my lungs that I have not yet moved to increase the internal pressure toward my hand. Then, as I prepare an Explosion to blow through this wall for all of us, I take a step forward and ready my strike.
My hand opens up directly before I strike the wall, the bony fingers of my Madness-infused Bloody Palm stabbing straight into the rock wall. Shards of stone fly everywhere from the impact, but it's not broken through. My fingers, more bone than flesh, only made it half a foot into the wall, stopping at my wrist.
But I'm not done yet. So with a grunt, I propel the Ether from Strugglers Gasp out of my hand forward, instead of all around like last time, as the wall crumbles with a deafening roar. But because of how I did it, the wall shatters forward instead of everywhere, effectively keeping most of the debris off me.
Stepping back, I let Frank step forward as his great frame pushes aside the rock that has not all fallen out of the way. He opens the path for us to step through as a group, the floor still covered in shattered rock with dangerous points. Johnny gives me a weird look as the man is probably the only one who noticed the oddness on my fingers. And as I want to make sure Johnny knows I'm fine, I release the cluster of Ether that is Madness on my fingers and show my hands to him.
His eyes roam over my now regular fingers, the bone sheathed within the flesh. The Gunfighter nods before pulling me with him through the opened tunnel.
"Careful with the things you toy with. Body modification is risky, and few are capable of returning to the way they were. Though, I suppose your father is a master of it. Just keep it in mind, okay?"
The worry on his face is obvious, so I take the warning seriously with a sincere nod and a thank you. He's never mentioned this before, but I always kept this Madness from Insight to physical objects, not letting them affect my flesh. That is except for the tattoo now on my arm, but we both know that's for the best as the Bloody Palm can no longer bother me with it active.
It truly is a blessing that Madness only takes Ether to activate; the imagined don't require sustenance once made. It's basically like a more physical form of Daydream. But, wait... is that what it is?
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It must be. All the skills from the varieties of Philosopher seem to relate and build upon each other in more and more complex ways. Is that just how Sigils built upon the same base act? Few people I meet have only one base Sigil as I do. Almost everyone combines theirs, either because it's simpler to do so or because it's the best option given to them.
The closest person to me in that regard is Earl with his two Gamblers. I wonder if he's advanced since the last time I met him. He had to of, right? It's been months. I struggle to fathom that he and Elizabeth haven't grown since then. I just hope that they are doing okay. I jolt the worries from my mind as I can't do anything to help them right now; after all, they could be anywhere from the Timberlands to Onyx Gate in their search for Icarus. So I continue to step through the tunnel that leads to the surface.
Johnny and I are in the rear of the group, both of us listening for the coming Plagued and Motherbound from behind. He's here to shoot any who come, his replenished ammo enough to hold off hundreds at a time, and I'm here to collapse the tunnel once we reach the top. Bonfire offered to take Johnny's job, but the pyro will be more needed when the hordes are enormous, his flames capable of spreading far beyond what Johnny's single bullets can accomplish.
And after just a few minutes of sprinting toward the surface, the tunnel twisting us all upward rapidly, the noisy clawing and screeching of our pursuers reach the two of us at the back. I meet the Gunfighter's eyes as he twists his shoulder and aims his Colt backward. The man barely even picks a target before he starts firing, the rumble of rounds only stopping when he takes a short second to refill his chamber.
The Colt he has, stolen from some foe in Sinscreak, allows him to bounce bullets and deftly control the rebound, the previous owner having some use for such a thing. So, each trigger pull creates several pings off the rocks behind us as many Plagued die. I even spot a few butchered Dreadmarked and Tonguers, each having 4th or 5th Sigils.
Johnny's combat strength soars once reunited with a Colt and ammunition, quickly reaching the pinnacle of our group. Dozens of our pursuers fall, and their fallen bodies barricade their allies, giving us more time to run. Thankfully, this tunnel Virgil found during his scouting goes almost straight to the surface with few offshoots and turns to reach the top. So, with this simple path and a Gunfigher at our back, we all haul ass to the surface as fast as possible. Those at the front with Ether help those without to move more quickly as a group, keeping pace above those inhuman creatures behind us.
Sweat pours from my face as I sprint upward, saving most of my Ether for later. I push forward only with Breakneck, the same instance from earlier, reusing the gaseous Ether as long as possible. It's slowly running out as the Ether diffuses into my body, but the gaseous Ether lasts much longer than liquid with the lower friction.
I push onward, bullets constantly ringing from Johnny's Colt beside me for almost a half-hour. But eventually, I see sunshine up ahead after a few quick turns, our pursuers still hot on our tails. The light invigorates everyone in the group, pulling us forward with renewed momentum.
My feet reach the top, a hole in the colossal natural construct of stone that is Blight Spire, the largest of all the Bado tribes' homes. The now split groups frantically clamber down the half-dozen feet to the ground. Johnny finishes unloading a full cylinder of rounds at the approaching horde in the tunnel as he turns to me, Plagued Bado crawling and falling over each other as they rush forward.
"Collapse it, please."
I nod at him and quickly do so, reigniting my Ether like last time, latching onto a thought from the Bloody Palm with Madness, this one of the lower half of someone freezing off from a blizzard. My legs grow cold as I feel them gain a sort of stiffness in my lower half.
Looking down, I see that my skin has gone gray, ice flakes falling off them. But, trusting the skill as it's only served to enhance me so far, I combine it with a Strugglers Gasp to pressurize my Ether far enough for Breakneck. Then, I release the Ether with an Explosion out of my leg after I kick at the tunnel entrance.
As before, I wait to detonate the Ether until my limb is inside the stone so it crumbles away from me. Then, as it all breaks apart, rock shattering and filling the tunnel, I jump toward the group, landing with a bit of a stumble due to the weakness from using Strugglers Gasp. Thankfully, though, the current Madness is enhancing the strength of my legs, so much so that Explosion only left a dull throb in my right leg compared to when it blew off my right arm long ago.
At the same time, though, I'm much better at Ether and have more strength within me, but the difference is still notable. A grin comes upon my face at the progress. Perhaps I'm not that far away from being able to survive bullets? Maybe then I could beat Johnny.
Once on the rocky floor of Starkbluffs with sharp stone digging at my feet, I look around at our now split groups. Johnny, Sacate, Blake, Bonfire, Abraham, and Skychaser all gather together as the other group heads straight south, making a beeline for Edmund's Vault, our meeting point after this. Though, we can also meet anywhere along the path should we find each other.
It's unfortunate that we keep getting split, but if we can gain an Angel like Blightraven on our side, it's certainly worth it. So as we split, I wave goodbye to Esther, Virgil's family, Dakota, and the other Bado like Skyswain. Bonfire does something similar by high-fiving a few of his small squad, Clumsy giving the pyro a friendly headbutt.
Then, the remaining people, including me, turn our attention to Johnny as the morning sun meets the nearby clawing of the Plagued just beyond the collapsed tunnel. The Gunfighter reloads his Colt as he looks around with his skill, Deadeye's Gaze. Then, I see him squint toward the north and turn my attention there.
A line of darkness lays at the edge of my vision, and at first glance, it seems to be a swarm of flies or something, but no. It is the Nahullo's camp. Thousands of the frosty northerners set up just a mile or so away.
I see Bonfire, Skychaser, and Abraham shuffle in trepidation at the thought of fighting against that many. Even Blake looks a bit worried at the threat. Their worry becomes mine as I glance at Johnny.
Johnny's voice emerges, the man trying to rekindle and ignite our confidence. The man then points at Bonfire.
"We are not here to fight all of them, only those that keep Blightraven in his cage. Now, Bonfire, signal Virgil."
Bonfire nods after a moment and ignites a dim flame on his hand that he kneels and places on the ground. The faint flame, only brighter than a match, spreads on the stone to fit the form of a circle with a big X right in the middle of it.
Confused because I missed the plan to train instead, I look around, but after just a moment, Virgil comes from the floor, his body phasing straight through the stone.
The man coughs and waves his hand in front of his mouth as he struggles to get air in his lungs.
"Sorry, one moment. Can't breathe as I Flicker."
We wait a moment as Virgil regains his bearings. Deafening scratchings come from nearby behind the collapsed tunnel as the fading silhouettes of the escaping group continue to wane. However, they should get out safely once we draw the Nahullo's attention. As for the Motherbound and Plagued, they haven't left the spires yet, so on that end, they should be fine as well.
After a few breaths, Virgil stands up and points northwest, slightly to the side of the Nahullo camp.
"Blightraven is that way. He's hiding inside a shorter spire right now to recuperate. I wanted to get close enough to make contact, but a Councilman was close to him. I didn't want to risk being that close to an Angel."
Johnny nods to Virgil as he waves his hand forward.
"Lead the way, Virgil. Try to keep us undetected for as long as possible, though."
Virgil glances at me before agreeing and covering himself in a wreath of darkness before walking where he pointed.
"Follow me, then. Keep low to the ground, Nahullo aren't known for their perception, but it is early morning. Stay close to me, and I can keep us hard to catch."
We all follow his advice and get low, staying close to the ground as we move behind him over the precarious stone ground of Starkbluffs toward the spire only a few dozen feet tall that Blightraven is inside of.
Even from here, though, I can see several dots around the spire searching for the Bado's most potent. One of them is moving fast enough that tracking them with my eyes is difficult. They must be the Councilmen.
Seeing the coming danger from here, I stay even more subdued, using Stealth to try and hide better with Virgil's help. Foot by foot, we travel over the rock, going from cover to cover as we stay out of sight. Virgil's skill in staying undetected is impressive; the man can keep a whole group unseen over swathes of rock.
Just as I've grown, so has he. The weight upon his back has increased just as mine, the once Damned turned bounty hunter that now fights for something greater than himself. I smile at the thought of seeing my friend develop. He's helped me so much, saved my life many times, and I loathe to see him stagnate.
But the eldest Boone is not one to be weak; no, his time as a Damned speaks otherwise. Tossed as a fragile teen into a brutal environment, Virgil walked out unshackled and confident.
I can't let my thoughts distract me. However, as we get close to the spire, bit by bit, the distance narrows. And when I finally get close enough to notice the figure of a Nahullo, the tall Northener, almost eight feet tall with snow-white skin on his face clad in reflective steel all over his body, turns to face us.
The Nahullo's eyes glow white, a blinding paleness that eats right through Virgil's dark shroud around us, forcing Johnny and Sacate into action. A gunshot resounds, and then five more follow as chaos ensues. I grit my teeth as my eyes tell me something I don't want to see.
This Nahullo is no ordinary northerner. Instead, his chains radiate a bright magenta that makes me inhale sharply. Not just that, but the Nahullo looks somewhat familiar in his armor, the shimmering metal similar to those from Abraham's nightmares. But I don't have time to consider that as I gauge the threat.
Already... an Angel.