Chapter Two Hundred and Fifty Three - 253
Felix left Zara behind as he prowled the line of the Rent. The Legion gave him lingering glances as the hustled back and forth, dragging severed wings and piles of salvaged feathers. Felix let his Sovereign of Flesh relax, dismissing the dark armor in favor of being slightly less recognizable, but he wasn't really paying attention to them.
Why now? A monster attack only hours after they decided to head after the Archon. Is it a coincidence? Or was Hector right?
Did they have a spy in their midst?
Felix spread his awareness outward, his Perception spreading to its limit. He could hear and feel and see so much, enough that without his powerful Journeyman Mind he'd have fallen to pieces from the sheer volume of information. Tempered twice over, Felix could at least sift through itlike tuning past radio stationsmoving across the white noise for anything that stood out. Blood and stink and frustrated grunts as monster flesh fought back against butcher blades. Mundanity, or as close to it as it came on the Continent where attacks like this could happen whenever.
But they didn't happen whenever. Right? Felix had heard the monster attacks were escalating ever since he had come to Haarwatch for the first time, and that before that they'd had a strange amount of beast activity in the Foglands. Then, after they'd defeated the Archon's forces, it had stopped. For a week, not so much as a peep. Now this. What's the connection?
"No, I need to speak to him, Akales!" someone shouted from Felix's left. Fenwick Cole, according to his Voracious Eye.
"You've no business that can't wait," Oskar Akales replied, another familiar face. "I must ask him about the allotment of these cores. Sir!"
Felix withheld a groan as he turned toward them. It was like dealing with unruly children, for all that both of the men were at least middle aged. Fenwick's hair was mostly gone, except around his ears where it gathered wildly.
"Don't you cut me off, Akales"
"GentlemenFirstsI apologize, but I think the Fiend has already told us where the cores are going," another voice cut in, and Felix was surprised to see another familiar face. Mervin Cors, the first person he'd met after returning from the Void. He'd gotten stronger, he could tell, and there was a confidence to his voice that Felix was surprised to hear. Mervin inclined his head to him. "I heard you speak to Captain Kovalt. We're to bring them all to city center and the Lady Haarwatch."
The two armored men stopped short of Felix's side and stared at Mervin. He could see as well as feel the consternation coming off them both. Fenwick glared at Mervin, then cleared his throat. "Sir, those cores could push our soldier's own power further if they were allowed to use them."
"Given to the Blades, you mean?" Oskar said. He laughed and clanked his hands together in a mocking clap. "Very good. Meanwhile, the Fists were the first into battle. If anyone deserves them, it is us."
"If I may, Firsts, there are several outstanding Quests for monster cores held by the Lady Haarwatch. There are so many cores here; all of our people could rise in levels in a short time." Mervin looked between the two of them. "Is that not a better use than clogging your divine given power with monster cores?"
Felix was impressed. The young farmboy had grown up. Last he'd seen him, Mervin had been wracked with nerves and no little fear.
"Mervin's right," Felix said, defusing the anger that was gathering on Fenwick's face. "Using monster cores to strengthen yourself is a shortcut that can hurt your growth. One or two are fine, but more than that and your core and channels will never amount to much." Or so I've been told. "You'll get more bang for your buck if you go to Haarwatch Manor and take the Quests."
"Bang for your?" Fenwick started, before shaking his head. "Very well. If that is the truth of it, then I'll not gainsay the Fiend."
The bald First of Blade stomped away, followed only a moment later by the First of Fist. At least Oskar gave him an apologetic look before returning to his soldiers.
"Apologies for intruding, Lord Fiend," Mervin said.
Felix put out a hand, stopping the kid from talking. "Man, no. Don't apologize. And don't call me that. Not like we're strangers, right?" His hand tilted, until it was held out in a handshake. "Mervin, right? Been a while."
Mervin tentatively took Felix's hand and they shook. "Oh ah, yes. It's been some time...Felix."
Felix smiled. "Yeah, there you go. I honestly can't stand the titles these guys keep throwing at me. Kind of exhausting, actually."
"I suppose I can see that," Mervin allowed, though his Spirit rippled with confusion.
"Don't worry about it. Glad to see you're doing well, though. Already..." Felix let his Eye linger over the kid. "Level 22 and in the early stages of Apprentice Tier. Good job."
Mervin flushed with pride. "It has been a...challenging time. Strength was the only option." His expression faltered for a half second. "Guild gone, Wall broken, city...but we're here. Ready to serve."
Felix's gaze caught on the patch sewn onto the kid's jerkin, a crude sword. He regarded Mervin in a different light. He'd clearly been through a lot, more than some in the city perhaps, and he'd come out the other side all the stronger. Tempered.
Was Zara right? Should he have left these monsters for the Legion to fight? Let survival of the fittest decide who was worthy of life and who wasn't?
"Sir, er, Felix?"
"Hm?"
"How can I get stronger?" Mervin asked nervously. He looked out at the battlefield, littered with dead monsters. "I am...I am not enough."
Felix huffed a breath from his nose, more in consideration than annoyance. It was exactly what he was thinking: how to keep them safe without continually putting himself between them and danger. Still, it wasn't exactly a straightforward question. Levels and and good, high rarity Skills were important, but so was a solid foundation and Tempering. But so much of what constituted strength on the Continent was a product of luck orhe blinkedinsider knowledge.
Of course! Felix thought on what everyone had taught him since his arrival, from Harn to Magda to Cal and Zara. And what he had learned himself.
"What're you good at?" he asked.
Mervin didn't hesitate. "My Perception is my highest stat, and I"
"No, not your stats," Felix said as he waved a hand. "You. Do you have something you're good at? Like a hobby?"
"Oh ah, hm," Mervin thought a moment. "I do enjoy whittling."
"Whittling." Felix scratched his jaw. "Okay, yeah. How do you think about your core?"
"Myit is a ball of light, pushing the divine gift of the Pathless through me to strengthen my flesh and mind and spirit."
Yeesh. Right, he's a Pathless guy. "Okay, so just a ball of light? Nothing else?"
"Should there be?" Mervin's earnest confusion confirmed a lot of what Felix had been told. People weren't given knowledge in this world. Not without strings attached. Felix frowned, remembering his earliest days, when his own core was nothing more than a spark of fire in his gut. That was also when his Perception picked up that all butcher work had stopped around them. He had become an island of calm as the Legionnaires listened closely.
Good. Listen up.
Felix cleared his throat and spoke just a touch louder. "Think of it like this: your core is a hunk of wood. Right now it's just sitting there, doing it's best as being what it is. Simple wood. You have to carve it down, shape it into the form that fits you." Here he stumbled, unable to articulate exactly how he'd figured his own core space out. "Your core space responds to what you believe it to be, sorta. Your channels are the same, linked to the process. So if you carve say"
"A plow?" Mervin provided.
Felix paused and smiled. "Yeah. Yeah a plow works, especially if it works for you. Maybe for someone else it's a bird, or a castle, or a giant wall with a hole in it," he said, gesturing around them. A few soldiers laughed before stifling it and pretending to work. Felix grinned at them. "Find out what makes you, you, and you'll find that strength follows."
At least, that was what worked for me, he thought. Yet he kept the sentiment to himself. Certainty from authority could work it's own kind of magic, he'd found, and the basics were solid. Tentatively, Felix felt those around him with his Affinity. It felt like a wave of refreshing water and the sound of early morning birdsong.
What he sensed with that Harmonic Stat wasn't always straightforward, like rage or fear or admiration, and sometimes it pushed its way through his other senses by way of explanation. A type of synesthesia, combining senses to suggest a greater whole, much how Manasight often worked. His Affinity sensed that the people around him were affected by his words, and the impression Felix got was that it was positive.
Hopefully it helps them grow. They'll need it if more hordes are coming.
"I see," Mervin was saying after staring at the ground a moment longer. "Begin with the core."
"Begin with the core. Yeah," Felix said with a smile. "From there it's just a matter of"
"Run!"
Felix's head snapped up, instantly taking in the explosive charge of an injured Razorstork. It had apparently been stunned but not dead, and a Legionnaire stumbled back with a skinning knife held out. The big bird hurled the Iron Ranks in all directions as its deadly bill struck through flesh and armor alike. The Legionnaire fell back with a cry and the Razorstork charged. Its eyes were vivid and maddened by pain and...fear. Felix felt a flash of its Spirit across his Affinity, a blade of light that scraped against his eyes and shuddered against his ears. Felix gasped.
The avian stank of blood and burning ozone, and at first he thought it was because of him. Residue of his own lightning spell. But no. It was a signature stain that he'd recognize anywhere, perfect recall or not.
Vellus.
Felix's Affinity trembled, and half-seen strings, threads of connection between living beings spun outward into the Foglands. Unreasonable fear had overwhelmed these creatures. They were running from something.
From above, Pit squawked in warning, but Felix leaped into its way. It was like a prehistorically sized cassowary and just as terrifying, were it not so weak. Felix held out a single hand and tried something new.
Stop. You are in no danger. Wielding his Intent like a scalpel, he severed the connections that drove the avian. It stumbled, as if he'd cut something vital, but the charge did not stop. It was too far gone. Stop!
It screeched at him in challenge, and Felix's mouth thinned.
Wild Threnody!
His Blade of the Fang leaped to his hand as unattributed Mana poured into it. The off-white tooth turned a luminous white, and Felix made a single, powerful downward slash.
You Have Killed A Razorstork!
XP Earned!
The Razorstork was severed in half by the glowing Fang, and it fell into two wet piles to either side of him. The smell of cooked chicken and boiled offal assaulted his Perception; only Felix's powerful Endurance let him withstand it without gagging.
Eugh. No. Not Vellus. Not directly. That connection was too weak to be her...but it tastes like it, only without the bite. As if someone had channeled the mad god's power near these creatures, and they fled it. Smart bird. He looked at the corpse again. Sorta.
Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, the list for culprits was short. Felix was pretty certain who had terrified an entire forest of monsters away from the Foglands. It was the only creature that had previously utilized the Goddess of Blood, Storm, and Tide's power before.
"Goddamn it."
Congratulations!
You Have Tempered Your Spirit!
You Have Formed: the Ashen Reach Spirit!
+10 INT
+30 WIL
+20 DEX
+10 PER
+5 VIT
"Burnin' finally," Evie hissed. Her voice was a raspy croak from all of the screaming, but it was a small price to pay for finally achieving Journeyman Tier. Everything about her ached as a result of her strained Aspects, and she felt wrung out like a dirty dishcloth.
With a flicker of Will, she brought up her new Formation.
Body: Boreal Gyves
Mind: Unshaken Thrawn
Spirit: Ashen Reach
With Cal and Aenea behind her, Evie had been able to get her hands on some good Essence Draughts for her Tempering. Her Spirit and Mind were Rare, with her Body being a touch better than the rest at Epic rarity. Distilling a chain Essence had been a find and a half, and not for the first time Evie resolved to kiss that Alchemist when she had the chance.
Evie stood up, her muscles as wobbly as a newborn chick, and she tentatively felt at her core. Tiering up didn't necessarily advance one's core stage, but she'd been working on both all this time. The chains around her icy core had spread out, pushed into a complex web of convoluted links. Mana thrummed through it all, the same as freezing rain and and inexorable chill. There was more work to be done before touching on the Ring Stage, but she was close.
A knock interrupted her musing.
"Yeah?" Evie rasped. What do you want?"
A muffled voice sounded from beyond the wooden door. "Ma'am, the supplies you requested have arrived."
"Yeah yeah yeah," she snapped. You're gonna call me 'ma'am'?! She hobbled to the door and threw it open. A young boy stood there with three other porters. Several lumpy packages sat against the ground, each one wrapped in oilcloth to protect them from the elements. "All here?"
"We visited every storefront you asked, ma'am," the boy said again. Evie opened her mouth in annoyance, but then another voice interrupted her.
"That's a lot of stuff, Evie," the voice said. She turned to see Atar walking swiftly down the hall, his thin metal stave in hand. "You carrying that all yourself, ma'am?"
"It's for all of us, Sparky," Evie said, narrowing her eyes at the mage. She gave the porters a couple silver swords from her purse. "Thanks lads."
The porters palmed the money and scurried down the corridor, gone so fast she was half certain they'd Tempered their Bodies.
"You look a wreck," Atar said, coming to stop near her door. "Didn't you get any sleep?"
"Not a wink. Been pushing into Journeyman all night," Evie groaned. "Just made it."
"About time. You'll need it too if the Foglands keep spitting out monsters," Atar said. "City just pushed back another horde."
"What? I missed the fighting?" Evie growled. "Noctis' tits."
"We'll all get our chance for more, you can be sure of that."
"You heard somethin'?" Evie asked, hopeful.
"No," Atar shook his head. "I just know our fearless leader. I'm fairly certain Felix can't get through the day without facing a horde or two."
"It's been quiet the past while, though," Evie pointed out.
"Exactly what I'm worried about," Atar grimaced. "Come. Coldfire sent me to get you and Vess for a final fitting. They've got some new armor for us all."
"Right, Elle's been working on somethin' for me." Evie closed her door and followed after Atar. The packages could sit for a bit. "We goin' to get Vess now?"
"Already tried her. She's not in her rooms," Atar shrugged. "Haven't seen her since the meeting."
"Oh, well, hopefully she'll already be there."
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