Chapter Three Hundred And Thirty Seven – 337
Within the Forge it was even more bustling than Felix's Alchemy Lab, though it had far less folks. Only Davum had been suited to smithing from among their many inhabitants; neither the Risi nor the Henaari had any interest in the application of heat and metal, preferring ice and wood respectively. In fact, there were a few Green Shapers down in the Henaari village, though their main focus was on architecture and ornamentation. Here, in the Forge, they were focused on the inevitable advent of violence.
"Quench it!" Harn bellowed, and his Half-Orc apprentice rushed to obey. Davum took a huge slab of metalat least four feet in lengthand plunged the length of it into a viscous basin, releasing a great gout of steam and fetid stink. Harn walked over, pulling the weapon from the quench with his bare hands. Dark red liquid oozed from the hunk of shaped metal and over Harn's fingers as he hefted it from side to side. "Good. The ichor is working. Quickly, to the Forge."
Harn carried the length of metal in his hands while Davum rushed to the central bellows. He began to steadily pump them, driving not air but air Mana into the Forgeflame and brightening its glow. Felix pursed his lips as he watched it unfold, eyes devouring the process to try himself some day. Forging was fascinating on the Continent, involving more arcane steps in much the same way alchemy and sigaldry did, and the end products could be exceptionally useful. His vambraces and greaves, for instance, were forged by accomplished Smiths so that they could collapse and contained a few spells in their construction. Not particularly powerful spells, but it was proof of concept to him.
If I could layer something like Arrow of Perdition into a blade, or better yet, an arrowhead? That would be an impressive weapon. And it'd undoubtedly shoot his Stronghold past Rank I, finally. Felix was beginning to chafe at the wait, and had spent much of his time chasing that ever-distant horizon. The...was delegation the right word? The messages with the Henaari he had sent to Haarwatch was likely there already, which was good, but being able to communicate with Cal directly would be far better.
Atar caught Davum's eye. "What's he doing? What's in that basin?"
"It'shaah, hahhit's monster blood," Davum panted. He was working the bellows, but the Mana of its operation partially came from him. A flaw in the array, Felix assumed. One of many flaws he had no idea how to fix. "A Skalg. Toxic venom."
"And you're layering the poison Mana in its blood into your weapon," Alister realized. "Clever."
"Standard technique," Harn said, banging a bright silver hammer against the blazing hot metal. Flakes of impurities and sparks shot off, sandwiched between his hammer and the anvil. "Foldin' Mana into the base material was the third thing I learned, all those years ago."
"What was the first?" Atar asked.
"When to shut up," Harn grunted. Atar snorted.
"Bit beyond my knowledge," Felix admitted. "Though I see the how of it, now that you explained it." His Manasight traced the lingering elements of the monster blood as each strike of Harn's hammer pounded into the metal. "I think it's working too."
"Oh Yyero's blighted backside," Davum said. His arms were quivering, but never once stopped moving. "Finally."
"Been at it a while?" Atar asked.
Harn grunted, but didn't stop his hammer. "Fifth try."
Alister whistled. "You running on dregs of Mana then, Davum?"
"Less than that," the Half-Orc panted.
"Shove over then, let me take over," Felix said as he walked to his side. "I've got Mana to spare."
"No, you can't! It has to be my Mana, or else I don't get credit!" Davum protested, never once slacking on the bellows. "I gotta finish this."
"Tch. Alright. That's fair. Guess there isn't any harm in waiting a bit longer," Felix said before sitting on a nearby bench. "And here I'd thought I'd do a little smithing."
"You can always help us refine this design, Felix," Alister said. He held the Glyphtome in his hands, showing a page of the book featuring a complex, multi-layered formation. "Been meaning to adapt this to your wall defenses."
"Oh. Ooh," Felix said, catching the gist of the formation, even in pieces. His Mind worked at a fast clip as he flipped through the pages. "You're putting this on a siege weapon?"
"That's the idea. Dunno if it'll work though," Atar said. "It's Alister's adapted design."
"Kinetic Reflection, I remember," Felix murmured. He pointed to a sub-section. "You can fit this on a ballista bolt?"
"Nah, too complicated. But we can place it on the weapon itself. With enough Mana it'd generate its own bolts," Alister explained. "In theory."
"That's expensive on the caster. Unless" Felix snapped his fingers. "Unless you tie it into the defenses."
"Specifically, your defenses. I doubt most other Lords have the Mana pool of a Tier V monster." Atar's voice was dry as the desert he came from, but it had little heat. "It's a badly inefficient design, otherwise. No offense, Al."
Alister shrugged. "None taken. It's barely usable, but it has promise."
"You're not wrong," Felix said. His Mind whirled through several possibilities. "Give me a minute."
A minute turned out to be entirely too optimistic. Minutes turned to hours as Felix studied the Glyphtome and Harn sweated away at his Forge. Felix had other things he could be doing, but working on an array as intriguing at the one before him was worth every second of his attention. It described a formationa collection of arrays, though the terms were used a bit interchangeablythat took Mana and forged a missile of force Mana before hurling it at a very high speed. Or that was the idea, at least. Like Alister had said, there were problems with the arrays, mostly in the conversion of one Mana type to another. That alone would waste even a dedicated mage's Mana pool in only a few shots. Well, unless they were Felix. He could probably operate it for hours before it'd overcome his unnatural regeneration. That is, if the rest of the arrays worked like they should. And it was clear that they didn't.
But why?
Eventually, the hammer stopped and a sharp explosion of steam tore into the air. Harn gasped a ragged breath.
"Finished." Felix and the mages looked up, their low conversation interrupted to find Harn wearily holding a battleaxe. Double-headed, it was made of a darkened steel that was all of one piece. It squirmed with a stormcloud of poison Mana, the vapors of it practically weeping from its shape. "Still has to be sharpened and all, but it's done. Davum can take care of the rest, eh?"
The weapon was given to the Half-Orc apprentice, and his arms trembled. Felix could see the man's Stamina was about to bottom out, but the warrior only clutched the battleaxe like it was his lifeline. "Thank you, sir."
Harn grunted and waved him off. Davum half slunk, half fell toward his own work station, careful not to let his prize fall to the ground.
"His personal weapon?" Felix asked. He remembered the warrior using a big axe previously.
"Yeah. Kid's been good help, so this is his reward." Harn shrugged and grinned. "Provided me with practice too. Got my Smithing Skill up to level 39, and Mana Folding to level 45."
"Ah, apprentices. It's nice isn't it?" Atar said, stretching himself. His skinny shoulders quivered with released tension before he started massaging his back. "My three Inscriptionists are alright so far, but the language barrier is a bit rough."
"My apologies, Professor. I have trouble speaking 'desert brat," Alister said with a broad smile.
"Shush you."
"Anyway, the kid's got some poison Skills, so I figured folding some monster blood into it would work well," Harn continued. "We'll test it once he's got it sharpened up some."
"And takes a nap, no doubt," Felix said. "Have you been able to touch the Femur yet?"
Harn laughed, throwing a rag wet with grease and sweat onto his table. "Not a chance. I'll need Smithing to at least Adept Tier before anything I do can dent it. Can't even get the Forgeflame hot enough to warm it, let alone shape the metalbonewhatever. Gonna have to follow that Quest and source my own sometime soon."
"Anyone know anything about Forgeflames? Might speed things up," Felix asked. He looked to their resident fire mage. "Atar?"
The blonde mage was fiddling with the straps that held the Glyphtome at his waist. He looked at them in surprise. "How would I know? I'm no crafter."
"You're the Glyphmaster," Harn pointed out.
"Sigaldry is an artform not a craft." Atar gestured to a stack of metal plates on the far side of Harn's anvil. "Is that what we're here for, Felix?"
"Hm? Oh! Yes, of course. Pit's barding," Felix said. He took two steps toward it before his Eye activated and he faltered. "Aw, Harn. You used the Tempering Array without me?"
For once, the axe-wielding warrior looked abashed. "It was only an attempt. It fails, more often than not. Work on that, though."
"Well, I guess that's good at least," Felix said, more than a little disappointed. He had wanted to see it in action. "You'll have to show me the process later."
"Sure. For now, help me lift it up to the table. It's damn heavy."
Before Harn could approach the barding, Felix reached down and easily hefted it up and onto the table. Plates clattered and buckled straps jangled, and Felix shifted it until it sat fully on the crafting table. "Simple enough."
"Right. Simple," Harn grumbled. "Remind me to call you next time I need a wagon and team lifted, yeah?"
Felix grinned. "Too strong for my own good, I guess." He patted the barding. "Let's get on with it, though. Right here?"
"Yeah, at the junction, just under the gorget."
Felix shifted the barding, the armor that Elle back in Haarwatch had made for Pit. It had served its purpose and the last time Felix had seen it, the armor was scorched and dented from a hundred different impacts. It had been made from the Scales of a Ravager Queen, powerful stuff, and Spiritbound so it and whatever was stored in it could travel with Pit when he converged with Felix's Spirit. But it had only ever been Journeyman Tier. The Tempering Array had changed that, forcing the equipment to Adept Tier by way of magic that Felix had no understanding of; it had been why he wanted to see it in action.
Regardless, now the armor was all shiny and new, a helm, gorget, chest, and foreleg armor all connected by clever strapping and joins. Under the gorget was a crest, one carved by Rafny and Elle that had seemed at least somewhat prophetic. His "personal crest" they called it, basing it off the crude design the Fiend's Legion sported. It was a glyph, a pairing of several sigils to form a new symbol. This one was a combination of fire, eye, and lightning, just as it was on the Legion's cloaks...or it had been.
"Great," Felix muttered. The crest had changed, taking on the glyph at the center of his Seat and Seal. Still an eye, still composed of those same sigils, but now surmounted by a nine-pronged crown. "Did you do that?"
"No. Just changed on its own, same as the rest of it." Harn shook his head and patted the anvil next to him. "I really have no clue how this array works."
"Mm," Felix grunted. He fished the Stone of Alloyed Refrain from his pocket. The green-blue gemstone flashed with an internal light, easily the size of his thumbnail.
"That's a damn fine rock," Harn said.
"Let's hope it works as good as it looks," Felix muttered. He pressed it into the center of the crest. Into the eye.
A wash of complex sigils spread into and through the armor, visible only in flashes as a song rose in volume. Felix winced, the melody too loud and strident to bear, but he was rooted to the spot. His fingers were stuck to the alchemically altered Stone as if glued, and his Mana was being sucked up in huge gulps. It didn't hurt, per se, but the lost of almost a thousand Mana in seconds was a little worrying. When it started taking Essence too, Felix swallowed nervously.
TRING!
Moments before it would have drained Felix entirely, it finished. Felix stifled a groan as his vision swam, but it passed quickly as his regeneration caught up. For his Mana, at least. His Essence store was two scoops shy of empty, and his core space shook slightly with strain. He couldn't let his Essence drop too much or else the Harmony would overwhelm the Dissonant parts of his core space. It felt like burning eels squirming within him. Burning eels with bodies of razor blades.
A notification popped into his vision.
You Have Successfully Installed Stone Of Alloyed Refrain Onto A Set Of Spiritbound Barding.
Tier Increased!
The scales of the barding had taken on a more red-gold hue than before, shining with a strange new luster. Moreover, the entire piece had changed, extending back and over the haunches and rear legs. It appeared far more sleek and almost dangerous, the feel of it a touch overwhelming to everyone nearby, save Felix.
"The Stone worked," Alister said in hoarse whisper.
"Master Tier armor," Atar said. "And it's for a chimera, of all things."
Voracious Eye!
Please Bloodbind Barding To See Further Details.
Felix grunted, annoyed he couldn't see its details yet. He'd need his Companion to make sure. He felt at their bond, feeling a great distance between them.
"Has anyone seen Pit?"
In the forest to the north, battle raged.
Icicles festooned the forest, piercing trees and loam and stone with equal savagery. However, none were more targeted than the smoking corpses of some sort of bear-sized beasts. A lot of bear-sized beasts, enough that the undergrowth was trampled for a mile out, and little of it was uncovered by fetid smoke or hulking corpses.
The ground rumbled, the icicles wobbling, before a tree at least ten feet thick burst apart. A flurry of russet and black feathers and fur blasted through it, launched through the air. Smaller trees toppled, a consequence of his immense speed and size, but wings the size of a small plane snapped out and air Mana marshalled beneath Pit's tumbling body. He reoriented, ruff standing up and golden eyes blazing in anger as he landed.
A creature stepped out of the origin of wreckage, a beast with six clawed legs that looked like a cross between a wolf and a badger. It was three times the size of the bear-sized beast corpses, bigger even than Pit. It roared in challenge, so loud and deep that it shook the leaves around them.
Pit screeched right back.
Wingblade!
A massive crescent of dense air Mana shot forward, but two white, prehensile tentacles rose from its back. They batted the Wingblade away, green, venomous Mana flashing against white-green air. Another tree fell, bisected.
"A Guardian Beast does not simply react," A'zek said from a nearby stone outcropping. He lounged, his cat-like face devoid of concern. "A Guardian Beast seeks a harmonious exchange."
Pit sent aggravated confusion at the harnoq, but was already charging at the monster. The badger-wolf advanced with a roar, it's bulk moving almost as fast as Pit's own.
Frost Spear!
A cluster of icy spears manifested above Pit's back before flitting forward, each one hitting with the force of one of Felix's grenades. The beast's tentacles wove a dense defense, slashing back and forth to intercept and redirect each and every one. The two met, talons and claws slashing. The beast fastened its wide jaws onto Pit's feathered ruff and shook, attempting to rip into his throat, but Pit's Vitality and Endurance was too much for it. Pit raked at the beast's chest, his own talons finding bare purchase in its own powerful hide.
"You cannot move from conflict to conflict and hope to attain your goal, Pit," A'zek said over the din.
Pit shut out the harnoq's words. The beast couldn't tear into his throat, but it had him held in place; its Strength was seriously impressive. The real danger, then, were the tentacles on its backthe tips of which were spiked with venomous barbs. Pit knew that well from their last exchange. The white appendages flashed downward, aiming for his eyes.
Wingblade!
Wingblade!
Dual cast Wingblades shot out from Pit's pinions, not at the beast but at the earth beneath it. The loam fountained upward, a geyser of dirt and redirected force that tossed the beast aside. For a precious second, it lost grip on Pit's neck. He moved.
Poisonfire!
Cry!
Pit's Body burst into green-colored flame, while he screeched directly into the badger-wolf's ears. Already disrupted by the explosion, his Cry caught hold. It fell, helplessly on its back, trapping its now-limp tentacles.
Your Cry Has Stunned A Badger-Wolf For 2 Seconds!
What followed was not nice or pretty, as Wingblade and Frost Spear followed Pit's claws and beak as he tore into the beast below. Without its agile tentacles, Pit's Agility and Strength overcame it in short, bloody order.
You Have Killed A Badger-Wolf!
XP Earned!
A'zek sighed from atop his rocks. "You must Choose, Pit. And act to bring that Choice to harmonious fruition."
Poisonfire is level 69!
Cry is level 64!
Wingblade is level 72!
Frost Spear is level 73!
Bite is level 64!
Rake is level 66!
Feels harmonious to me, Pit sent. He was pleased with his advancement. Slowly, he was catching up to his Companion.
"You have so far to go, tenku," A'zek shook his great, black head. "The mysteries hidden within your Path, our Path, are so many they cannot be counted. But you must Choose."
Pit shrugged. He had been enthused when the other chimera had indicate he knew how to take advantage of his new Path, one that A'zek claimed to share, but he had been evasive on actual answers. Mostly they had sought out challenges in the forest and surmounted them, usually involving Pit getting bloody.
Choose what? he sent back.
"Your destiny."
Pit opened his beak, ready to screech annoyance at the harnoq, when he felt it. The air shook and the earth quivered, both tremors too faint to feel with base senses. It transmitted across the thickened cord of intangible connection, between him and Felix...and the Spirit Tree.
Pit! Where are you? Wait, no, nevermind! Do you feel that? It's the Tree! Felix's voice burst with excitement across their bond. It's finally attuned! And more!
The tenku felt the quiver turn to a triumphant shouta strange sensation from a plant.
The Spirit Tree has made fruit!
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