The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 881: Power Renewed
Even sharing Fable’s senses, I missed the moment he moved. He’d kept his power carefully restrained throughout the fight, never using more than the minimum required to dodge the dragon’s attacks or break the bone he targeted. Yet now his aura rose, matching the pressure of the dragon. Gold light burst from him, incandescent against the dusky shadows of the Black Mist.
He struck the dragon in the chest, right where he’d torn a hole earlier. The impact sent a shiver through the dragon’s frozen body, hairline cracks forming across its ribcage and spine, like a shattered vase sealed back together.
He vanished again, reappearing at the apex of its sinewy neck. He was roughly the size of its head, clawing over its skull and horns. His claws left long, glimmering grooves in its decaying flesh, carving out a web of golden cracks.
My soul shuddered as the burden grew too great. Gasping, I slipped from Fable’s side, opening my eyes with a groan. Shivers of pain wracked my body as I struggled to sustain the Oracle of Eternity, burning through my mana at a rate that left me breathless. But even then, I still had over a third of my mana left. The weakness came from my physical body, strained from supporting a flow of so much for so long. But I gritted my teeth, holding it a little longer. I needed to buy Fable more time. The damage he’d racked up since I’d frozen time was overwhelming, but would it be enough? We had to kill it before Connor returned, else there might not be another chance.
Fable’s howls shattered the subdued silence, shaking the very forest to its roots. An aura matching that of the dragon exploded from his soul, his power rising to the very precipice of the eighth level. A heartbeat later, a shockwave crashed over the clearing, slamming against my wards with the force of a seventh-circle spell.
The surge of power was too much for me to handle, breaking my concentration and sending me tumbling to the ground. I panted heavily, tasting blood, as the world snapped back into motion. A hundred shockwaves rippled through the forest as every one of Fable’s blows was released at once, flowing across the miles of forest between us in a single breath. They barely registered compared to the one that had shaken me from Fate, failing to make my wards so much as waver.
A terrible, blood-curdling shriek rent the air. Breathing heavily, I caught my balance amid the ongoing tectonic tremors, using my staff for support as I stumbled to my feet. It was fortunate I was still conscious, but from the fogginess in my mind and the weight that clung to my limbs, that was going to change soon. Still, it was a small price to pay if we’d killed it.
"Did you...get it?" I panted.
Fable shared a sense of satisfaction, accompanied by the sight of a forest frosted white. I shaded my eyes against the sun, squinting as clouds of the same billowing white mixed with the Black Mist, drifting towards me on winds born of aftershocks. Well, not frosted exactly, but coated in bone. The combined force of so many eighth-level attacks had all but vaporized the dragon, crushing its entire body to a fine white powder of bone fragments and dusting the forest for literal miles.
Borealis rode a gale down, settling on my shoulder. I winced as his claws, gentle though they were, pressed into my shoulder. After expending so much strength, my entire body trembled, sensitive to the lightest touch.
I had just started to breathe a sigh of relief when the fragments and debris of the obliterated dragon began to dissipate, melting back into the black mist. Only now did I realize I could still feel the dragon’s presence, even though it should have long since broken. A slight frown tugged at my lips, a sense of disappointment welling up within.
"He didn’t..." I muttered, rubbing my horn. "A lich? He made the dragon a lich?"
Borealis cawed in discontent as the last of the Risen dragon vanished, rejoining the mist. Was that how Connor had summoned it so easily? He hadn’t summoned it at all! He’d simply constructed its body out of the Black Mist, out of his own power.
Wait, did that mean the two were linked? The thought came suddenly, furrowing my brow. Connor had summoned all of his undead like that, save for the horde he’d initially commanded to assault the city, bringing us here. But the dragon, the armies that had struck the outlying towns and villages, and even the undead I’d seen him summon to fight R’lissea and Korra had appeared from within his soul. It was like he’d been carrying them in his shadow, ready to deploy at a single thought.
But I’d clearly seen them built from the power of the Black Mist. Did that mean...they were the same? If it were tied to his personal soul and mana, that would explain why Adaptive Resistance had some effect on it. And also why the dragon hadn’t yet reappeared. It must have taken too much energy to summon a second time, especially considering he was fighting for the Shard at the same time.
There was no way to confirm the theory yet, but it matched everything I’d seen in my visions. If it were true, it might give us an angle to break through the mist and finally overcome its relentless power.
"But that’s for another day," I mumbled, turning as Fable emerged from the treeline, bounding up to me in his condensed form. I reached up, scratching his head. "You guys did great. Even if we didn’t kill it. But you were holding back until the end, weren’t you."
It wasn’t a question, but an accusation. Fable whined, nuzzling me, his tail curling around my waist. My giggle turned into a cough, and I leaned against him, eyes closing wearily.
Fable whined, nuzzling me with his head.
"I could see right through you," I murmured, "You didn’t use a single eighth-level attack until the end. But that last one...what was it? It tore through fate, as if I hadn’t actuated the Oracle of Eternity. Was it just that strong?"
The black mist began to recede, allowing the warm glow of the evening sun to fall upon my face. I looked up, peering at the sky, but couldn’t find any sign of a skyship. They were coming to pick me up, right? I certainly wasn’t going to fly back on Borealis.
"It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me." I suppressed a yawn, sinking deeper into Fable’s fur. "Maybe...just a quick nap. Until they find us."
The Black Mist had yet to fade fully, and there were still undead elementals wandering around, but I was too tired to care. I curled up against Fable, my staff vanishing into stars, my eyes too heavy to keep open. I’d used too much mana again, just like R’lissea was always warning me. I hadn’t felt this tired since recovering from our misadventures on the southern continent. It was comfort to know that I still commanded this power, the power to unfurl fate and stop time, but I’d forgotten the cost, and now paid the price, sinking into darkness.
Scarcely had I nodded off than I found myself in a decadent room with a vaulted ceiling, white floors and walls, and gold-leafed ornamentation. Lord Evlon, the High Inquisitor, sat at a desk, writing on a scroll.
I inwardly groaned, tail twitching irritable. Was a nap so hard to ask for? Just how much was happening in the world that I couldn’t take five minutes to close my eyes?
Shouts rang out from an arched hallway, and Lord Evlon frowned, looking up sharply. A servant rushed into the room in a panic, stumbling out of the way of a cloaked figure. The newcomer’s aura was a storm, crashing against the walls and sending papers fluttering all over.
"Lord Sunsinger, I must say this is a surprise," Lord Evlon said, calmly setting down his quill. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
I swallowed hard as the cowl came down, revealing Aerion’s face. He wore a scowl, his eyes hard and cold.
"What are you planning?" the elf demanded.
Lord Evlon leaned to the side, peering past him down the hallway. "I do hope you didn’t harm any of my servants or priests. They’re all devoted servants of the gods who deserve more than suffering in the wake of a tantrum."
"Sylvarus. Your church has already abandoned us. Why are you here? What do you want? What will it take to get you to leave us to our fate?"
Lord Evlon’s lips quirked. "Fate. An interesting choice of words."
"So that’s your game. Is she really that important to you?"
"You know of her weight, of the power she commands. You’ve used it for yourself," Evlon murmured.
"What would you know of that?"
Lord Evlon’s lips twitched again, forming a small smile. "More than you might guess, Lord Sunsinger. I know your plans, plots, and ambitions. And I care nothing for them."
Aerion frowned. "Is that so? Then what of your mission? What will you do once you accomplish it?"
"Worried I might interfere? Trust me, I’m not your enemy. As soon as my mission is accomplished, my party and I shall depart these godforsaken woods."
"And of your promises to the noble houses?"
"You didn’t strike me as the man to care for contracts."
"You read well, then. But are you?"
"No, though I’d rather that remain between us. There are certain parties who might be...worried should they discover that. You have my word that I care not for mouldering houses or elves too foolish to see the world as it is. Stay out of my way, and I assure you I’ll reciprocate. What say you?"
My breathe caught at the question. He was Selena’s brother! He couldn’t ally with inquisitors.
But a small voice in the back of my mind sent chills down my spine. Aerion’s ambition burned bright and fierce. Let alone what I’d seen in visions, his actions alone spoke of character. What wouldn’t he do to accomplish them? What wouldn’t he sacrifice?
But before Aerion could answer, a ripple crossed over the vision, and a strange power tugged on my soul form. The world shifted, startling a small shriek out of me. I clapped my hand over my mouth, irrationally afraid Aerion or the inquisitor had heard me, but they were already gone.
