POV - Gibby
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Gibby took the next right, the smell of stale air tickling his nostrils. Luckily he had memorized all the underground tunnels in the event their expedition did not go so well again. Even better his three favorite case studies had decided to cut a hole straight into the underground tunnels on one of the main lines. Making for the perfect escape route directly to where he wanted to be. One quick check of his mental map told him they were just a couple of turns from their exit.
Pulling his weapon from his back Gibby readjusted it in his non-dominant hand. The other side was still healing from the burns he had endured back there.
“Isabel cover me, if we can get through this pack, we’re home free.”
The woman was as tired as the rest of them and carried her sister close to her chest, but she simply nodded. When the bomb had gone off they had managed to move a decent ways away but unfortunately, the surrounding tunnels just couldn't handle the sheer explosive force. The destruction had ripped the earth around them apart, raining concussive debris down on their heads followed by a wave of pure burning flame. Gibby was ashamed to say he had lost track of more than half their number in the cave-in. Those who had survived were badly wounded or unconscious. Gibby had tried to help where he could but his spells were best suited to healing himself. Prana could naturally help but only so much without direction.
Tommis was nowhere to be found, probably crushed under tonnes of rock, so they had to make do with what energy they had on hand. A good many died because of the lack of healing, when he had gathered everyone up their number was just over one hundred strong.
Gibby wasn’t sure what had happened up there but it hardly mattered in this situation. Getting everyone back to the base was his only goal. Some of the paths forward were collapsed and he had to take alternative routes, but soon enough he'd found the main path.
Dashing forward Gibby cleaved through the gathering of Corrupted and enhanced his back and chest muscles. Aura and Prana poured from his cores into his outer limbs and strengthened his strikes.
Isabel sent one-inch sheets of rock as support. When they had finally pushed through and Gibby spotted the barred opening he shouted encouraging words to the people behind him.
Jumping up towards it he saw it was locked just like he expected but ripping the lock off with his hand was child's play. There was a sound from above, and a guard Gibby didn’t recognize poked his head over the side.
“Help! We have wounded down here, I'm Mr.Gob, and I work for your pillars!”
There was a curse from above and a single man rushed down with a coiled rope in his arms.
When Gibby had secured the rope to let the injured come up, he moved up the narrow tunnel. Other than the single man the room was eerily empty. If he was the only one up here then something was wrong. Pulling the unit from a strategic resource like this meant they were contending with something bigger.
Stepping out of the warehouse he saw the evening had fallen and in the distance, he could see the telltale sign of casters locked in battle, as light burst from their multicolored spells.
Turning back to the group he saw everyone had gotten up and looked at Isabel. The path they had just come through was a godsend, but it could also be their doom if things followed them up here.
“Do you have the strength left?” he asked
She looked up at Gibby and then down at the hole with pressed lips and a nod.
“Then collapse it.”
***
Mark had sunk into the skill with Jonathan and Sam, letting the battlefield around them fade. Mark immediately realized he had already reached his limit, so he just tried to gather as much power as possible and stuff it into a [Animated mind]. The technique he’d used on the Guardian had pushed his cores to their limits and then some. He still wasn't entirely sure there weren’t long-term effects from it but right now he had never felt more free from the Corruption.
A cursory glance at his Cv shocked him as he was sitting at 100% [+50%] - 150%???. His theoretical limit, though he felt no adverse effects.
Even with the staff, he should have still been able to feel the Corruption at the edges of his awareness, but right now he felt nothing.
And he thought he knew exactly why.
Mark let his mind wander closer to the core below his navel and felt almost no response. Getting closer, he sensed a deeper oddness to the situation.
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Even though his Aura core was a ‘broken throne’, he still had some feeling over it, but right now, it was as though it was a separate part of him. All his Corruption had concentrated itself in there like one festering holdout.
The energy was acting irregularly, usually, it was pervasive and Mark had to use his Prana to contain it to certain parts of his body, but now it was squaring itself away as though it wanted to avoid detection.
It had always naturally collected in his Aura core and with nothing stopping it from entering, it had now holed itself up in there. However, Mark was not about to let it have its way, whatever it wanted, Mark would make it his mission to oppose it.
He had to pull it out of his core but was stumped as to how to do that. [Draw Corruption] would have no effect as it drew outside sources into him, it would have little effect once the energy was actually in him.
Mark fashioned a spike made of Prana and drove it into the core, but stopped immediately, as it seemed to have no effect, and it also felt like he was punching himself in the gut.
He tried flooding it, burning it, and even massaging it, with Prana, but nothing seemed to work. The core of power remained completely inert, and worse still [Corruption recovery] seemed to have little to no effect.
He tried burning it off, but it was like one of his constructs, tightly packed and incredibly dense. Perhaps if he threw his entire pool of Prana at the thing it might do something, but he couldn’t afford to do that right now.
There was one other option he thought of but refused to try. He could always attempt to manipulate the Corruption directly, but the idea was shot down almost as soon as he had it. The Caretaker had warned him against using the energy and that there would be system consequences to using it. And honestly, he had been skirting that rule far too much recently.
[Draw Corruption] worked because he didn’t directly make use of the energy. Only guiding it with his will while it was traveling into him, he was lucky the system hadn’t called him on it, but the fact that it worked was not something he could ignore. Mark would use whatever advantage he could get, and he had, to great effect. The thing was, now that compilations had arisen, he had no one to blame but himself.
Trying a couple more things led to the same result and Mark could feel Sam had long since filled her reserves. Jonathan was nearing full, so they would need to join the battle soon.
Floating in [Meditation] helped, but so much had happened in the last couple of hours that his brain began to wander.
Almost as if by second nature, Mark's mind went straight back to Daphne. Her face, her smile, and then her still corpse. Pain threatened to escape from the bottle he had shoved it in, weighing on the point between his brows. Stoking the anger and loss.
It was a little soon, but Mark broke the connection between the three of them. He couldn’t be in his head right now, he had to keep working.
Strangely without their energies moving through him, Mark felt worse, but at least he could keep her out of his thoughts. Sam gave him a knowing look, but Mark could only offer up a shrug.
Jonathan was already up, pulling Sam to her feet and Mark noticed Ethel and her team surrounding them.
They had encircled the three of them with fifty fighters strong and Mark was amazed to see the number of Corrupted lying scattered around them. His shield was still intact, if a little worse for wear, but it was the number of monsters each of them dealt with.
Karter must have sent their remaining elites because each front liner easily dealt with five or more Corrupted. Their casters unleashed beams of concentrated moonlight or bolts made of twisting crystal, fireballs coated with lighting. Or even gelatinous ice that could only be something akin to liquid nitrogen. Not for the first time, Mark could see the efforts of their training. Training that was only possible because of the Order they had created. A place where their knowledge and time were freely given. A warm glow kindled from somewhere in Mark’s chest, it was smaller than earlier, but it was definitely there.
Seemingly not wanting to be outdone, Sam rose to her fellow caster's side, and a slow-spiraling tornado began to gather speed in the center of the road. Its pull was weak and yet something akin to Jonathan’s Aura began to happen, as fine horizontal cuts made from air began appearing across the approaching bodies. Ice bloomed from the wounds like scattered frost.
Jonathan jumped to the front and Mark adjusted the intermediate construct and topped it up with more power. Distantly Mark could hear the sound of repetitive strikes coming from Jonathan's blade.
Time ambled on and all too soon the heavy hitters began to show up. Titans and Behemoths made their presence known all at once. Almost as if they had planned it.
The titans came into view even as the Behemoths opened fire. Their frontline engaged and Mark was content to see that each Aura user could just about manage one titan on their own. Deciding that he wanted to help in a more direct manner, Mark moved to the middle of the formation. He began casting [Engrave mana], this time though, he included the ‘absorb’ modifier’.
Mark was surprised by how easily it accepted the alteration.
When the construct moved beyond him like a tidal wave, and came face to face with a Titan’s fist, he expected some loss of power but was once more flabbergasted.
The kinetic energy from the creature's fist connected with the edges of Mark's spell and transferred the energy through the pyramids like the iron balls would from a Newton's cradle. Each one sapping some of the power.
Mark felt nothing at the hit, he couldn’t help smiling.
Direct physical attacks had always been one of his greatest weaknesses, but now, the fact that he could almost certainly defend against them was liberating. Especially considering the hit came from a Titan. Sure, Aura users had skills so there was no guarantee, but it was a milestone Mark had wondered if he would ever be able to accomplish.
The energy he had absorbed from the hit had negated ninety percent of the power behind it. So growing the barrier similar to a writhing weed, Mark used it to assist his frontline. In some cases allowing them to completely ignore their defense and focus on killing the thing.
The flow of creatures was steady and manageable, but then near the left side, Mark spotted a decrease in Corrupted to almost a trickle. Calling it out Mark noticed movement between the buildings and it didn’t take long for him to figure out it was their supposed backup. The loyalists rushed out from a side street, bullets tearing off into the night with flashes of muzzles. Waves of Corrupted were mowed down and in their wake, a couple hundred soldiers filtered through to fall in line with their formation. They were led by some of the last people Mark trusted right now. Major Liam Grantwood and Mr. Jeffrey Wilson. Mark's jaw clenched as he saw the man who had almost left them to die in Prospect Park and Jonathan's estranged brother approaching.