Children put their parents on these pedestals but often forget that they are people. Their dads and moms bleed like they bleed and hurt like they hurt. As people, even heroes aren’t perfect.
~Mother Danu, The Primordial Goddess of Nature
Conall spat out blood and looked toward the stump of his left arm. There was only a small stub left below his elbow, and his ax bit deep into a nearby tree with his severed limb still gripping it. He pried his hand loose and lined his arm back up with his stump. He grabbed some fluorescent green cream from his Shield, applied it between both halves, and watched as they reconnected. For now, it was just flesh reattaching, but in about two weeks, it’d completely heal. Provided he stayed out of trouble that long.
Crow might be able to recognize the man he called his father. A thick bright scar adorned his neck, and a clawed weapon with three blades once raked the left side of his face. The centermost claw even ripped out his eye at the time, which he’d since replaced with one from a beast. One of the sects he destroyed had a perfectly preserved eye from a Sonic Land Shark. Supposedly the thing could move through the earth like a fish through water. More impressive, the eye could flip into a sonic mode, allowing him to use sound to see everything around him.
Despite his current shape, he left behind mountains of corpses. No matter which Blood Ember Sect he approached, he was always the last man standing. He pulled his ax out and stored it away in his Shield alongside its brother.
The tree was too inviting, so he sat down—collapsed might be more apt. The pain in his side, a wound he hadn’t realized existed, caused him to gasp. Gently, he patted down his side using his good hand only to find a fist-sized hole torn through his armor. He used two fingers to feel how deep the hole in his flesh went and thankfully found that it hadn’t gone too deep.
Pulling out some silver-colored powder, another gift from the Blood Ember Sect, he poured it into the hole and watched the flesh stitch together in front of his eyes. It was indeed a miraculous treasure.
“Those blood bastards have some good loot,” Conall grinned, revealing his blood-soaked teeth.
Conall managed to climb two floors higher. Because of another treasure he stole from Gideon, it gave him some insights into how to overcome his doubts. Gavin long suspected that misinformation was the reason why people couldn’t progress. The tower couldn’t be broken that easily, and the reason others failed to climb higher was that they believed it was impossible because everyone said it was. Conall approached his bottleneck with complete trust in Gavin and now had even more reason to despise Gideon. Even if Gideon didn’t spread those lies, he knew they were false and didn’t try to correct anyone.
Gideon’s projection was called into this fight, or he’d never have lost an arm. Still, he managed to force the projection to dissipate. That didn’t mean Conall was ready to fight Gideon because that man was still a Shield grade higher. However, Conall no longer feared the man. He was confident in his ability to escape.
Bleargh!
Conall puked, mostly blood and a little viscera—that happened half a dozen more times before he felt fine again. This was a side effect of that powder because it needed to expel the bad blood, debris, and damaged flesh. After it was done, he spat out as much of the blood in his mouth as he could.
Cia’s connection with him was weakening, and Conall knew she was suffering. At most, if nothing else happened, he suspected she only had a year to live. He did not know what Gideon was doing to her, but he could sense unless that old bastard did something, her time was almost up. It meant in all the time since he left Crow behind, he didn’t stop to take a single break.
During that last fight, he recognized something important. Gideon wasn’t at the main sect’s headquarters and was once more climbing the tower. Conall’s eyes glittered coldly.
“Back to work,” he grunted and stood up despite the pain. He burned all the corpses and stole everything he could find before setting the sect on fire. In the distance, he could see the stairs leading to the next floor. “I’m coming for you, motherfucker.”
***
Gavin had gone back to Oiche. There wasn’t much more he had to do to protect the Keystone. Eoghan Trinovant’s brother was capable enough of handling the rest. Since the Witch Doctors couldn’t bring their armies of the dead across the desert, they were no longer a significant threat. That didn’t mean the Vodun wasn’t still a potential threat. In truth, Gavin hadn’t heard or seen them in over a month. If things were going according to what Crow mentioned. Then they were probably heading toward the Keystone leading to the Beastlord’s continent.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Because the other Keystones turned down their alliance offer, they didn’t have to bother being cordial with them. In fact, when the Clocktower trial was over, he was positive the Hex bastards would continue their pillaging. After all, they took down four Keystone cities, and they probably made a fortune. Especially from the Astrologers, because those guys were notorious pirates. They rarely were on the losing side of an exchange.
“How’s the kid?”
“I can’t see into that realm, nor would I try. Ever heard of Gray Coyote?”
“Sounds like a triable god.”
“That is precisely what he is, and he is known as a trickster god. As far as gods go, he isn’t a bad sort, as long as you don’t interfere with his games. The only problem is I’m not sure of his exact origins. My guess is he’s related to the western continent and those nomadic people that were originally part of the Beastlords.”
“Why did they split off?”
“They felt absorbing beast cores to gain power was tainting their spirit. It was a sin against their humanity or something. It happened so long ago that even I’m not sure. They still share some of the same gods, but Cernunnos became a god of the beasts, and the Beastlords felt he was more worthy of their worship.”
“So this Gray Coyote god, what do you mean he’s not a bad sort?”
“Well… he might be an offspring of one of the chaos gods, so he is unpredictable. However, he doesn’t deliberately seek to harm, not unless you anger—huh, yeah, I guess Crow might be in trouble.”
“Pfft! That guy could anger a rock,” Gavin muttered. “Oh, Song Xue contacted me. Guess what I found out? The two Song sisters and Otto are also part of Crow’s constellation now.”
“Almost a real Constellation then. He needs at least nine.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Constellations need at least nine to cast spells equivalent to powerful formations. Even I’m not sure why that is, but aren’t formations similar? Nine points to a formation, if you include the Core.”
“Well, you don’t need nine nodes to create a formation, though.”
“Is that really true?” Mugna asked while chuckling. “Just because you aren’t activating all nine nodes doesn’t mean they aren’t part of the formation. Look at the towers. They needed thirteen primary nodes, and you can see how powerful that is. Nine is the minimum to be considered a real formation. The rest are weaker imitations.”
Gavin thought about it seriously and found that Mugna’s reasoning wasn’t totally wrong. Every formation needed a pair of nodes along with the core. And the first four pairs were always in the same pattern. However, if he wanted to add another pair, then most of the nodes had to shift. It was the first time the nodes could be shifted. Did that really mean that each formation had at least nine nodes?
“Go on, I’m sure your False Dawn Workshop misses you,” Mugna laughed, and Gavin disappeared.
***
Niall collapsed to the ground with five arrows sticking out of his chest. The arrows barely entered his flesh, but the power of each one exhausted his Shield, and he wasn’t sure he could fight anymore today. His men dragged him forward to the front-line, which Niall struggled to make sense of. Fireballs were launched overhead, heading toward his army behind him.
“Sir!” Alys shouted at him, and he finally focused on her. “We punched through the undead’s skirmish line. We have an open path toward Pineknot. Those fireballs were from allies striking the undead behind us. Just relax. You’ve done enough.”
The battlefield was filled with smoke, mist, and the tainted black blood of the dead. Niall’s army had fought for hours to break through because they had no other options. While he was visiting the easterners, the Hex had surrounded him. So they forcefully pushed toward Pineknot. Now that they made it through, they were in full tactical retreat with support from those soldiers wearing that black and silver tabard.
Those soldiers gave Niall a bit of a shock because they were well trained and were by no means weak. Their discipline and tactics were all top-notch. He was used to fighting the clan way, so while he was effective at guerrilla tactics, he didn’t do as well in a pitched battle on an open field.
“Well met,” a soldier placed his fist over his Shield and gave Niall a bow. Niall pulled the arrows out of his chest in annoyance and returned the gesture. Well, at least he managed to put his fist on his chest.
“Well met.”
“Do you need medical assistance?”
“Naw, just depleted my Source. Just need a chance to rest.”
“We’ve cleared out one of our barracks. You are welcome to use it if your men are willing to help defend the city.”
“We are willing.”
“Excellent,” the soldier waved at a few guards who shouted out a few commands. Shortly after, they launched a cloud of arrows at the undead line, and hundreds of them fell to the ground, not getting back up. It gave Niall’s people a chance to escape into the city. “Alright, this soldier next to me will lead you to the place you can call home for now. We’ll get you some soldier’s gruel, it isn’t much, but it’s hot.”
“Thank you. That is more than fine. We aren’t picky. We haven’t had a hot meal in at least a week.”
“Would you be Niall, a son of Maddox?”
“I am.”
“I am Wesley, Commander of the South Wall. I’m aware that your grandson has entered the Clocktower. He helped our men inside the pocket realm, so we welcome you as a brother. Tomorrow, I’ll have one of my logistics officers come to speak to you about shifts and rotating your men onto the walls. All of your people are welcome to approach the Clocktower on this side to see if they are eligible to attend the trial.”
“That little bastard! He was supposed to stay away from this place.” Niall growled.
“To be fair, he did. We aren’t sure how he entered, but we now know an Astrologer was involved.”
Niall blew air out of his nose in annoyance. It really was a pain to have an unfated grandson. “I bet that little bastard is running around in the Clocktower naked…”
Wesley’s mouth fell open because he knew a little about what was happening inside the trials, and that really happened. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Hah!” Niall said, seeing Wesley’s face. “I was right! Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.” Niall patted the man on the shoulder as if to comfort him. “By the way, is that asshole Torcail around?”
“He is. Last I heard, he was helping the Commander of the East Wall.”
“Thanks, and thanks for the assist. If any of my men cause problems, let me know.”
Wesley nodded and walked off barking orders while the soldier next to him guided Niall and his people to get food and sleep.