The moment Calder’s spell finally came together, and he released it toward Raphael, Nick pushed his will into the ritual lines he’d carved and let them come to fruition.
Hospes sacer est. Fidem fregisti. Pretium solve. The guest is sacred. You have broken the faith. Pay the price.
It wasn’t surprising that Calder would target Raphael, since he was the team leader and also had the most dangerous ability in a fight, but Nick wondered how the old mage knew about that, given that Raphael hadn’t used his spatial magic in his presence.
I guess I’ll find out later, let’s stop him first.
Power surged from all directions, briefly outshining even the dungeon’s mana and the Feral God’s domain, as ancient rules of hospitality shared among humanity across every world made themselves known.
Calder’s head snapped around, his eyes widening as a surge of mana pounded against his senses. He tried to pivot, raising his staff and forming a shield to defend himself.
It was a quick reaction, once again proving that he was truly dangerous and had earned the title of veteran adventurer, but it was also too late.
The ritual had already been set in motion, and while it would have been possible to stop it had Nick simply wanted to impose an effect upon him, that was not the case. Calder, whether he realized it or not, had been an active part of it from the start.
He’d freely offered his hearth and protection, and that had consequences. No matter how powerful his defensive magic was, he wouldn’t be able to stop something that came from himself.
The confusion Calder had cast shattered as the ritual’s magic converged on him, freeing Raphael from its grip before it could let one of the maddened beastmen reach him, and that very same traitorous mana then became the pathway for Nick’s magic to pierce his defenses.
Calder choked as his shield flickered into existence, half-formed and useless, before fading away as his mind couldn’t sustain it. Not with the invisible teeth sinking into his mana network, shearing through the carefully cultivated conduits like barbed wire, much like the curse of lycanthropy did to souls.
I’m not above stealing a method if I find it more efficient. Curse magic is dangerous, but when someone gives you an opening like this, it would be foolish not to take it.
The older mage’s aura flickered violently, with bulging veins protruding along his neck and temples as his channels spasmed. He sank to one knee, then the other, his staff slipping from his numb fingers with a clatter.
It wasn’t long before the screaming began, and it was an eerie sound, because it came not from simple pain but from the feeling of his own magic turning against him and tearing him apart.
Around them, the domain purred in satisfaction, gleeful about the punishment inflicted on the traitor, though Nick didn’t have time to enjoy his success as the beastmen hit the outer perimeter a moment later.
Howls thundered through the canyon, bouncing off the rock walls and shaking the defenders to different degrees. Dark shapes appeared at the mouth of the basin, and even Nick had to admit that whoever came up with this plan had been very thorough.
Wolf beastmen didn’t resemble werewolves in direct sunlight, but in the darkness, with the bloodlust pumping through their veins powerfully enough to distort their facial features, and the psychic chains forcing them to lean as aggressively as possible in their predatory instincts, it would have been very easy to be deceived.
“CONTACT!” the ranger on the ledge shouted, already nocking and releasing a glowing arrow that arched high, only to fall like a meteor upon the first beastman, who stumbled as it pierced through his arm, then resumed his charge, as rage and bloodlust obscured all pain.
A second shout came directly from behind him. “What did you do to him?!”
Nick jerked his gaze away from Calder just long enough to notice one of the robed casters and a leather-clad scout staring at the convulsing mage, then at him. With the Shard humming with power and lines of crimson mana still circling the ground, it was very clear he was the source of it all.
To their eyes, Calder seemed fine until he attacked, and now their boss was screaming and clawing at himself as his mana tore him apart from the inside.
The scout’s face contorted. “Traitor!” he shouted, drawing twin knives with a hiss of metal. “Kill him!”
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The caster wasted no time in unleashing a fireball at him, clearly aiming to either push him away from Calder or immolate him on the spot.
Nick cursed and yanked hard on the air around him, pulling it into a tight shell that snapped into place just as the fireball hit, warping the barrier with the heat but not breaking through.
Knives clanged off the same barrier instantly, one skidding away while the other caught in the wind-layer with a harsh vibration that told him his modified [Wind Armor] wouldn’t hold up much longer.
Across the camp, chaos erupted.
Kestrel was already on a firing mound, loading and releasing her warbow as she quickly put three arrows into the leading beastman’s chest and arm, punching through with enough force to take him down for good.
Space folded as Raphael stepped through it, reappearing at the front.
“Non-lethal if you can!" he bellowed. “[Spatial Lock!]”
Invisible angles flickered around a charging beastman’s legs. Its momentum sent it tumbling clumsily, his body twisting over locked joints as his bones cracked loudly. Raphael spun, redirecting the collapsing spell to catch another’s arms mid-swing, forcing them together, then doing the same to another, and then another.
Their enemies didn’t seem particularly intimidated by the show of resistance. A beastman barreled into one of Calder’s frontliners, raking his armor apart with glowing claws and spilling his entrails onto the dusty ground.
The domain laughed in Nick’s ears, more than a little gleeful at the chaos. It had no real will, yet he couldn’t help but ascribe emotions to it, which only annoyed him further.
“Nick!” Malik roared. “A little help?!”
The scout was still pounding at his wind shell, knuckles turning white around his remaining dagger as he cycled through various skills to try and break through.
The caster behind him had shifted to something more sinister than a simple fireball, summoning streaks of red-black mana and forming them into a jagged bolt that felt like blood and fear.
Probably something to rot flesh. Pretty nasty stuff, I have to say.
Throughout it all, Calder was still writhing on the ground, though at least his screams had mostly quieted, mainly because his throat was torn bloody from his own despair.
It wasn't an ideal situation, juggling multiple pieces of magic at once, especially when one was the only thing preventing a superior caster from rejoining the fight. Nick didn't want to give Calder the chance to get back into it.
Fortunately, that was what the Shard was for, and he could only thank his own foresight for having crafted it in advance.
“[Jet Stream].”
The compressed line of air shot out from the far side where he aimed, hitting the mage square in the ribs. The man’s breath whooshed out as his lungs were pierced clean through, and he fell to his side. His head pounded against a rock, and the spell flickered out as the mind behind it suddenly had more urgent matters to deal with.
The scout ducked instinctively, expecting a similar attack, but it was the wrong move. Nick angled the tail end of the same [Jet Stream] back around, using all his not-inconsiderable control to replenish the spell mid-air, and knocked the man’s legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard and was an easy target for a second [Jet Stream].
Malik charged past them like a charging bull, shield raised, thrusting his spear to prevent one of the howling beastmen from smashing into the air shield. He took a hit on the shield’s rim with a grunt, bending his knee to absorb the impact, then pushed up and underneath, slamming the spear-butt into the attacker’s jaw hard enough to snap the head back.
Roots sprang up from the ground around a prone apprentice as another beastman lunged.
Tholm’s bronze band on Lina’s forearm flared with molten gold, its runes blazing angrily, and gnarled wood shot up between her and the killing claws, taking the impact that would have ended her life with a loud thump. Thorned branches coiled around the beastman’s torso, clenching tight and crushing his ribcage into paste.
“Thanks, Master,” Lina gasped, scrambling up and hurling a stone that expanded mid-flight into a muddy wall, pushing back two more attackers and giving her a moment to breathe after the close call.
Nick let the wind shell drop.
The ritual still pulsed, anchored to Calder’s writhing form, and he knew that if he let go completely, the domain would gladly keep it going, probably until there was nothing left of the man but metaphysical confetti.
That was tempting because he wanted to help his teammates instead of being a sitting duck here, but he also really needed information and he doubted he’d find a better source than Calder anytime soon.
No, he needed the old man’s soul to remain intact enough for him to examine after the battle was over.
Pursing his lips, he decided that although he couldn’t move, that didn’t mean he was completely stuck, and waved his free hand toward the still-approaching horde of beastmen. “[Spiritual Hurricane]”
A faint ripple of light moved through the night, gaining speed and color as the intense emotions of the battle fed into it, until it overwhelmed three of them in a single blow.
Joran snarled, flicking a bead of green fire that curved around a boulder and latched onto a beastman’s collar. The Shadow Ore absorbed the initial impact hungrily, but the bead clung, eating through it, and a minute later, the metal ring was slag, its mana sputtering out. The beastman staggered, eyes flashing with confusion, then took an elbow to the temple from Monte and went down.
“Subdue them!” Raphael barked, noticing the change, as he shifted space to change positions. An invisible plane sliced a spear in half, then twisted to strike the wielder across the face with blunt force from where he’d been trying to sneak a hit at Nick’s back. The ranger crumpled with a broken jaw.
A clawed hand scraped across Raphael’s arm a moment later, and he hissed as blood splattered. Willow’s ward snapped up in a shimmering shield just in time to block the follow-up bite, the teeth biting into the glowing air instead of flesh.
Nick ignored all the chaos and focused on the few instances that needed a little nudging in the right direction.
There was a ranger on the ledge, drawing his arrow at Terence instead of a beastman. Nick snapped a [Jet Stream] at the stone beneath his feet, cracking it and causing the man to fall; the shot missed, clanging off the canyon wall instead of Terence’s back.
Monte was in the thick of the fight, holding his own better than Nick would have expected. A beastman charged into his guard, eyes wild with bloodlust but still sharp enough to coat his claws in a nasty purple skill, and their blades clashed; the nobleman’s foot slipped in the growing pool of blood at his feet, which should have sealed his fate.
Nick propelled himself with a kinetic push under his back foot, stabilizing just enough for his counter-cut to strike the beastman’s leg instead of missing entirely. The maddened wolfkin staggered, and Lina’s clay shot up to bind him a moment later, giving Monte the chance to move on to the next.
A roar echoed to his left as one of Calder’s heavy frontliners, seeing his leader spasming, charged Nick with a two-handed axe raised high.
Nick’s lips curled back in an angry snarl at the stupid man. “Wrong priorities.”
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