Unbound

Felix raced out of his chambers, and though Regis and Holt both started running, he soon left them behind. They might have been Adept Tier, but he had more Agility than either of them put together. The bells were ringing louder, but Felix needed to get outside. So he headed to the roof.

The hallway outside his rooms took a hard right turn, and Felix kicked off the stone wall and redirected himself. Stone broke behind him, but he flared his Skill.

Stone Shaping!

The cracks he made flowed back together, healing behind him.

Not sure how much I trust those two, Felix thought. The former Elders seemed earnest in their desire to fix what their leadership had ruined, namely the city itself. But was earnest desire enough? Felix wasn't certain, which was why he had almost immediately regretted mentioning his Omen Key. The looks on their faces when I brought it up...it was like I'd mentioned a steak dinner to a starving man.

Felix burst through a side door and onto the stair landing. Steps led up and down. He surged up them, taking steps four at a time.

He hadn't gone to Zara with his Omen Key yet. That part was true. The Naiad had been acting increasingly distant, involved with Cal and other things she wouldn't explain. Felix wasn't the center of her world, and didn't expect to be, but the training she had promised was slow in coming. Their group of three had only a single proper lesson in the last week, the rest having been independent study of a sort.

Something was going on with her.

So he wanted to get another's opinion on his questions. Primordials, Nym, the Omen Key. The first two were important to figure out before he made it to the Waterfall Temple. Who he was, who he had become, was increasingly pertinent to the Quests that kept getting shoved in his lap. The Omen Key, meanwhile, seemed like a perfect power up. Unlock the power of his Omen? More bonus stats per level? Other...stuff? But it sounded dangerous, as well as time consuming.

He kicked open the door on the last landing, and found himself amid a number of offices. The stairs stopped short of the roof by two floors, apparently. People had started poking their heads out of their doors, folks in robes and tunics of a nicer sort than Felix usually saw. The Manor's own bells had started ringing as well, sounding awfully similar to a fire drill from back home.

"An attack?"

"The Fiend!"

"What's happening?"

He didn't answer their shouted questions, instead focusing on racing past their doors. But the warren of corridors didn't lead to another set of stairs that he could find. Frustrated, Felix chose the next best thing. The end of the hallway had a huge window, facing southward and letting in a large amount of morning light.

"Out of the way!" he shouted.

People dove from his path as he rocketed down the hallway, straight for the massive window.

Sovereign of Flesh!

Scales erupted along his body, coating him in dark black armor marked by glowing cyan markings along his arms, shoulders, and chest. The last to form, a tight, featureless helm slipped over his face and skull, though his vision was unobstructed.

Unfettered Volition!

Faster than a car, Felix shot down the corridor, the sharp talons on his fingers meeting the glass first. He slashed his arms to either side, slicing through the window an instant before his entire body barreled through it and into the empty air.

*KRASH!*

Adamant Discord!

Blue white lightning kindled around his body as the steel lines of connection hurled him straight into the sky. His heart soared as he did, the exhilarating thrill of defying gravity better than even a good fight. Once he was high enough, he flipped his body and braced for pain.

Adamant Discord!

With a strained lurch he was redirected westward, toward the Wall.

Mervin Cors rang the bell again before relinquishing it to a Tin Rank member of the Blades. "Remember! Ring three times, pause, then ring two times! That's the signal—"

"I know! Go! They need everyone!" the boy shouted back. Mervin frowned at the new recruit's lip, but couldn't deny the kid was right. They wouldn't have brought on a child if they'd had anywhere near enough forces to man the Wall. He jogged down the steps, quickly exiting the Wall's interior and unsheathing his longsword. His shield was already on his right arm.

We can do this, he thought, as the bell sounded again.

The Rent was wide and deep, a massive tear through the heart of the Wall filled with scraps of twisted red metal and masonry. It was barely filled by the Fiend's Legion, even bolstered by a few dozen Haarguard. They numbered close to a hundred, all told, each of them battle tested and most of them with a single Temper under their belts. They were ready as they could be for what was coming.

We can do this, he repeated to himself. Right?

The scouts had reported monsters only a mile beyond the treeline, and as Mervin pushed through the poorly ordered ranks, he spotted the trees shaking in the distance. He sidled up to his team, themselves set a bit aside from the others.

"About time," Garin groused. He leaned against his spear and stared at Mervin as he approached. "Your Blade buddies keep you?"

Mervin grunted in annoyance. He had passed the Legion's tests and was allowed to join the ranks of the Blades, considering his tentative skill with his side sword. The others hadn't, and Gerin at least was still a little sour about it. "Something like that."

"Well don't let us distract you—"

"Shut up, Garin," Piotr said. His voice was thin but the command was unmistakable. He had withered a bit after their failed excursion to the Nest. Something had stolen his Vitality, leaving him weakened but otherwise capable. He gritted his teeth held his own spear in a white-knuckled grip. "We're here to fight, not bicker."

"Yeah. The Legion is just one way. Don't got no archers either, but I'm not bellyachin'," Lars added with a grin. He hefted his longbow and nodded into the distance. "Looks like the Unarmed Mastery guy is doin' a speech."

"Don't you mean the First ofFist?" Garin snickered. "Dumb name."

Mervin turned and saw Oskar Akales step ahead of everyone. He was the leader of one of the factions of the Legion and probably most outspoken among them all. Like everyone else, he was wearing piece-meal armor, but his hands gleamed with steel gauntlets of quality make.

"The monsters come! Remember your duty to the city and to our benefactor! We have rung the warning bells, and the Lady has heard it. We have but to hold the line." Oskar pointed at a literal line that had been carved into the rock and debris. It was uneven, stopping and restarting in several places. "No monsters enter the city. Not on our watch."

A strong cheer from half the crowd rang out, as men and woman of all Races lifted their various weapons into the air. The Haarguard, each armed with sword and shield like Mervin, merely shifted their feet. All eyes were on the treeline. Mervin swallowed his fear and mastered his jitters. He was a member of the Blades now, those Legionnaires that had devoted themselves to mastering one of the weapons used by the powerful Blue-Eyed Fiend. Mervin hadn't joined out of devotion or whatever it was these folks had for Felix, but because they were continuing to protect the Wall. All of them still wished to serve, to do their duty. The Guild was no more, at least in Haarwatch, but this place was their home.

Oskar raised his voice once the cheering stopped. "As the Fiend before us, we seek power to protect those without it! By Fist and Blade and Bone, we are the line in the sand."

The last was echoed by every Legionnaire in the crowd. It was everything Mervin had wanted when he left his father's farm. Honor. Glory. To grow stronger and use that strength to protect what he loved.

And right now, that meant fighting monsters.

He was ready. Mervin had lived through too much to be afraid of another monster horde.

Without warning, the treeline exploded with motion and noise. Branches snapped and emerald leaves bursts outward as creatures the size of small hounds tore through the air. Mervin's Perception, his highest stat, could pick out their vibrant yellow plumage and cruelly hooked beaks. Their wingspan was about as wide as his own outspread arms, and they were fast.

"Birds?" Lars shouted in disbelief.

"Wynhawks!" Piotr rasped, loud as he could. "Analyze confirms it! Average level is 24! Tier 0 beasts!" Tiers were roughly similar to the Guild's Ranks. Tier 0 was the equivalent of a Tin Rank or someone who hadn't Tempered themselves yet. The word spread like wildfire around them.

"Keep your guard up, we can take them!" Oskar shouted. "Focus fire!"

Sparkbolts and Ice Arrows and Shadow Jaws shot outward, slamming and bursting and snapping into the dog-sized flying creatures. Most shots didn't kill them, but the barrage steadily dropped their Health. Beside him, Lars fired arrow after arrow, each imbued with a piece of his sound Mana so that the missiles screamed as they flew. The Wynhawks fell, only thirty strides before they would have swarmed their line.

"Is-is that it?" Garin asked, his spear at the ready. He sounded disappointed. "I didn't even get to try out my new Skill levels."

Sentinel's Regard is level 42!

PER +2!

Mervin's rare Perception Skill—Sentinel's Regard—flared with a low tune that quickly turned fluting and rapid. He spun toward the trees. "There are more," he hissed before shouting. "More! More are coming!"

This time the trees literally ripped apart, their trunks shattered as a fleet of charging avians sweept through. They were all twice as big as an avum—fully half again as tall as Mervin himself—and were covered in coarse brown feathers and had thick, muscular necks surmounted by sword-like bills. Razorstorks. Dozens of them. Their feet pounded at the earth, too heavy to fly, but were followed by hundreds—thousands—of smaller bird type monsters. The flew ahead of the charging horde like a living cloud, screeching in clear challenge.

"They're all Tier I!" Piotr gasped. His hands shook on his spear. Tier I was the equivalent or Iron Rank—their Rank. "All of them!"

Too many! Mervin quailed, and his sword dipped in his grasp. We can't stop this—!

SKREEEAAAW!

From above, a veritable forest of purple-white spears dropped from the clear blue sky. Avian monstrosities were run through, split apart, and otherwise horribly maimed as a dark shape swooped down from above.

"Thunderbird!"

Chimera! Mervin goggled. "That's Felix's Companion!"

The beast flew above them, spinning in a tight roll as distorted waves shot outward from its body. The avians flew after the chimera in a shifting flock of wild colors and enraged screams. Those waves, however, cut through them like they were nothing more than Tier 0 beasts.

Yet the Razorstorks continued their charge.

"Rally! Rally!"

A haze of Mana and Stamina wafted down the line, and Mervin saw a regeneration boost Status Condition appear in his vision. Fenwick, the First of Blade, lifted his greatsword and pointed at the enemy.

"Charge!"

A charge? That's idiotic! Mervin thought with panic. They'll die!

Yet the Legion didn't even question the order. They swarmed forward, gauntlets, swords, hammers, and maces gleaming in the morning sun. The largest of the avians—brown colored Razorstorks—dropped their heads and put on a burst of murderous speed. Mervin hung back, his own crew taking potshots at the creatures from afar.

"Get back!" someone shouted, a voice that boomed across the field like thunder.

Lightning followed.

The front line of the Razorstorks was launched upward as bolts of jagged, blue-white lightning danced across their huge forms. The entirety of the Legion flinched back, some of the closer ones thrown from their feet by the impact. Razorstorks struggled to their feet, flailing with wing and talon, as the back lines continued to approach without stopping.

Until a figure rode a bolt of lightning down from the sky itself, crushing another Razorstork with feet shaped as talons and a body covered in dark scales. The Fiend. Felix.

Beneficial Condition Applied!

Status Condition: Rallying Cry

Rallying Cry

For the next minute, all Health, Stamina, and Mana regenerations are doubled. Chance of Frightened Condition reduced by 50%!

Mervin gasped as the effect washed over him, along with everyone else in sight. It was like a beam of golden-blue light had shone from above.

"No!" the figure shouted, and more blue-white lightning crackled around the man's shoulders and head. "No more deaths! Not today!"

A force of swirling blue-white light pressed down on the horde of monsters, and every single one of them stumbled onto their bellies and faces. The Fiend, meanwhile, was hurled into the sky where he sparked with brilliant arcs of lightning that all but outshined the sun.

At the same time, the earth rumbled. Across the breadth of the battlefield a rippling tide of devastating stone thorns erupted, each the size of a man. Monsters were skewered by them, the earth beneath their feet transformed against them. As they went, the spikes gathered into larger shapes, jagged hooks and spears thicker than the tree trunks in the distance. Mervin could see the dusty brown Mana pouring from the Fiend's now floating body, a tempest of power that beggared belief.

How much Mana is he using? It was more power than Mervin had seen anyone wield, apart from the Elders themselves. Just how strong is he? How could one man do all of this?

In the space it took Mervin to think those words, the battlefield had been cleared. Entirely. It was littered with massive spikes of blue-grey stone and the remnant corpses of hundreds of monsters. Some had even skewered those avians flying above.

The Fiend landed once again, his dark form hitting the ground like a cannonball.

"What the hell is he?" Piotr said, a quiet awe in his reedy voice.

"Strong," Garin said. "He's like a monster."

That wasn't strong enough, Felix thought with annoyance.

He had landed amid the monster charge, intending to stop it and kill them in one fell swoop. But his Adamant Discord wouldn't do what he wanted it to; he'd tried to crush them all to the ground, but he'd instead pulled them up. Along with a significant chunk of the earth. In his panic, he'd lost focus and his grasp slackened. He was lucky the Skill still had its lightning aspect, otherwise a significant portion of them would have survived his landing.

Tch. He had to cast Adamant Discord again to get the grounded enemies immobilized, and that had sent him up into the air. Must be something like counter force or balance. I push down, I get pushed up. He tapped his lip with a dark talon, careful not to split his own skin. The Stone Shaping took care of most of them at least. They were weak. A lot weaker than I anticipated, really.

You Have Killed—

Felix waved off the notification, letting it pass through him but otherwise ignoring it and the many others like it. He looked around him at the corpses of monsters that were slowly fading into a greasy black smoke as they decayed. In the sky above, Pit wheeled after the last clusters of bird monsters, trilling a happy song through their bond.

Need any help? he asked.

No, came the immediate reply. Having fun.

Wingblades and Frost Spears shot out, but not nearly as many as he'd expected. Instead his Companion lit himself on fire and chased after his prey with remarkable grace. He managed to keep them all outside of the city. Felix was seriously impressed; his little tenku had come a long way.

The portion of his interface that was Pit's notifications flickered into view.

Pit's Wingblade is level 61!

Pit's Frost Spear is level 64!

Pit's Poisonfire is level 45!

Wow, yeah. Keep at it, bud. As long as the tenku kept making gains and wasn't hurt, Felix was happy to let him hunt.

Manifestation of the Coronach is level 46!

Adamant Discord is level 57!

Stone Shaping is level 56!

Stone Shaping is level 57!

His own gains weren't bad, especially that level of Adamant Discord. He must have been onto something with the opposing forces.

"Sir?"

Felix turned to find an older, Human woman standing at attention only a few feet away. She was wearing a hammer at her waist and had a crude symbol stitched on the right side of her tunic. The woman hadn't snuck up on him—he'd heard her footsteps scrape clumsily across the ground—but he was surprised. The other Legionnaires were too timid to come so close.

"Yeah?"

"Captain Irina Kovalt, sir. First of Bone." She saluted with her fist to her chest, right over that embroidered symbol.

Oh, now I see it. It's a femur. Oh. Felix restrained the sigh that wanted to slip free. "How can I help you, captain?"

"Help? Sir you've more than helped already! You damn near wiped the monster horde out completely! Alone, no less." The woman was probably in her fifties, but she had the excitement of a schoolgirl as she looked out at the jagged battlefield.

"Yes, right. So you don't need anything?" he asked. He really wanted to get back to city center and finalize his preparations.

"Oh, we just wanted permission, sir."

"Permission for what?"

"To loot the bodies, sir. We've number of butchers on hand that can make use of the monsters before they go bad, and recover monster cores."

"Oh!" Felix could have slapped himself. "Yes! Do that. Send all monster cores to the Lady Haarwatch, please. There are a number of ongoing City Quests for monster cores. Make sure you all take the Quest before turning them in, though."

"Yes, sir!" Captain Kovalt saluted again and gave a series of sharp handsigns. At her signal, the Legionnaires eagerly ran forward, several with long glowing knives in hand. With a nod from Felix, the captain also went off after the nearest bird monster, gutting it in two quick movements. Their knives would stem the rot, allowing them to harvest what they needed from the corpses.

Huh, monster cores. I should have thought of that. Felix shook his head as he walked back toward the sundered Wall. Cal will need all she can get to fuel the city, and it'll get these folks some steady experience.

Felix had sensed the captain's incomplete Temper through his Voracious Eye, similar to many in the field. A few had pushed entirely through Apprentice Tier, but they felt...flimsy, somehow. He wasn't sure where the certain came from, but his Eye hadn't lied to him yet.

He'd almost made it through the Wall when a wash of aquamarine vapor announced the sudden appearance of his mentor. Zara flowed up to the Wall, riding a wave of her own power, one that gave off a steady, sparkling sound like wind chimes and soft marimba music. It faded as the wave vanished.

"Zara," Felix greeted her. "You're too late. The monster attack is all over."

The Naiad looked beyond Felix, at the Legionnaires as they picked across the battlefield and carved into the monsters nearby. She turned her ice-blue gaze on him. "You cannot coddle them forever."

"What are you talking about?" Felix asked. He felt his mood sour at the tone in her voice. "I saved their lives. Those monsters were too strong for them. Too many."

"Perhaps. But you robbed them of valuable experience, both System granted and not," she pointed out.

"They're out here because of me, Zara." Felix surveyed the sweaty, laughing soldiers. Their Spirits were jubilant, a stark difference to what he'd felt as they began their doomed charge. "I'm responsible for them."

"No you're not," Zara said with a sharp look. "They're—for the most part—grown adults. Many have been making their own decisions for decades before you arrived."

"That's not what I mean," Felix said. "If I hadn't—"

"Inspired them?"

"Misled them," Felix growled. A few Legionnaires perked up at his tone and quickly moved farther away. "They're chasing after my accomplishments and they'll die because of it. I asked Cal to disband them, but she refused. I tried talking to them, to convince them to stop, but their Spirits sing when they think of protecting their town." Felix scrubbed his hands over his face. "So while I'm still here, I can at least protect them."

"Felix," Zara said, her voice softer and quieter. She put a hand on his shoulder. "They have chosen this path. All of us, them included, have to live with the consequences of our decisions. Choice and Consequences are sacred, and cannot be taken by another. Not unless we let them." She let go of his shoulder and turned back to the battlefield. "Danger abounds on the Continent. You do them no favors by protecting them from it. That is how it always has been, and always must be."

Felix frowned but didn't argue. "Maybe you're right, Zara. But just because something has always been, doesn't mean it should be."

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