Chapter 26: Shattered Sanctuary

  Somewhere far from Willowden, the road stretched empty beneath a bright moon.

  *Lost count.*

  *How many missions now? Fifty? A hundred? The numbers stopped meaning anything years ago.*

  *These clothes still smelled like blood. Washed them. Burned them. Bought new ones. Didn't matter.*

  Graves let the thoughts pass.

  He walked ahead. Twelve armored heroes trailed behind him, their armor dark steel with smooth blank surfaces.

  His mind turned to the report.

  *Valendris.*

  *Dark mage family. Old blood. The land for miles belonged to them.*

  *Two sisters. One brother. All trained in the darker paths.*

  *Strong targets. Dangerous.*

  The heroes behind him talked among themselves.

  "This mission is a waste."

  "A noble house. We should be in the Abyss. Fighting corruption. Doing real work."

  "At least the rewards are good."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Forget the Abyss. Beasts take forever to kill. But mages? Easy levels."

  Laughter behind him.

  "He's not wrong. Why grind in the Abyss when nobles pay double?"

  "The system is broken."

  "The system is generous. To us, anyway."

  More laughter.

  "The Father of Light. How is he still alive?"

  "What?"

  "A thousand years. Doesn't that bother anyone?"

  "Does your sword still cut?"

  "Yes."

  "Then stop asking stupid questions."

  They walked.

  Graves stopped.

  The formation halted behind him. He heard hands moving to weapons, armor shifting as bodies tensed.

  He felt it before the others did. A pressure at the edge of his senses, faint and far away.

  The scarred hero stepped forward and closed his eyes. His lips moved in the pattern of a skill activating.

  His eyes snapped open.

  "East. Twenty miles. Something massive." He shook his head. "The mana signature wasn't there a moment ago. Now it's still growing."

  Graves stared east. He saw only black. But his skin prickled, and the hair on his arms rose.

  *This is wrong.*

  *Power like this doesn't just appear.*

  He turned to face the twelve.

  "Formation. Now."

  The heroes moved, arranging themselves in a circle around him. Six kneeling in the inner ring. Six standing behind them. Graves at the center.

  Blue light flickered around him as twelve panels hummed to life. He felt their mana flowing toward him, pooling at his feet before rising through his chest.

  *Father.*

  He waited. The night air pressed against his skin. The heroes around him breathed in shallow rhythm.

  Then the answer came.

  Cold flooded his chest first. Then his throat. Then his skull. The Father's attention was a weight pressing down on his mind, heavy enough to make his knees want to buckle.

  Around him, he heard the others gasping. Someone whimpered. A body hit the ground.

  *Report.*

  The word didn't come through his ears. He felt it carve into his skull.

  Graves steadied his mind.

  *Mana surge detected. East. Twenty miles from the current position. Signature is massive and still growing. Request guidance.*

  Silence. The cold pressed deeper. His vision went white at the edges, and his chest locked tight.

  Then the answer.

  *Continue to Valendris. Do not deviate.*

  The command seared through his skull. His legs trembled. His jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.

  The presence withdrew slowly. The pressure in his skull faded to a dull ache. Graves forced his eyes open and pulled air into his lungs.

  Three of the heroes were still on their knees. The scarred hero had blood running from his nose.

  *Not my mission.*

  He turned back to the road.

  "Move out."

  Graves wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

  *Keep walking.*

  *Stop thinking.*

  Ash pushed through the shrine door.

  Beds lined both walls. Shelves filled with jars and dried herbs. A table cluttered with bandages. A door at the far end.

  He carried Mira to the bed in the center of the room and laid her down. Her breathing came slow and steady.

  *Still breathing.*

  *Good.*

  He turned back toward the entrance.

  The main door was solid oak. A thick wooden bar leaned against the wall. He grabbed it. Lifted it into the brackets. The wood settled into place.

  A slam against the door.

  The frame shook. Dust fell from above.

  Another slam.

  The windows. Four on each wall. Most had wooden shutters. Some hung open.

  He ran to the first open window. Pulled the shutter closed. Found the latch.

  The next window. Same thing.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The third window exploded.

  Wood and glass burst inward as a body crashed through. It was the baker from this morning, but his face was wrong now. His eyes were empty. Black flowers pushed through his skin.

  Hands grabbed for Ash's throat.

  Ash caught the man’s wrists, straining against a strength that felt impossible while the flowers pulsed dark along the man's neck.

  *Don't hit his face.*

  Ash drove his knee into the man's stomach, forcing the grip to loosen. With a hard shove, he sent the man tumbling back through the shattered window. The body hit the ground outside and immediately tried to stand.

  More hands reached through the broken frame.

  Another window shattered. Left wall.

  Another. Right wall.

  Bodies pushed through everywhere. Climbing over each other. Falling into the shrine. Rising.

  A stone flew through a window.

  It sailed across the room. Hit the wall above Mira's head. Pieces scattered across her pillow.

  Another stone hurtled toward her face.

  Ash lunged forward to take the blow. It struck his chest, sending a sharp flare of pain through his ribs while he stood over her bed

  *Stay behind me, Mira.*

  More stones. Crashing into walls. Breaking jars. The shrine filling with noise and bodies and the smell of rot.

  The main door cracked.

  Wood splintered, and the bar groaned under the weight. Through the slot above, Ash saw a crush of faces pressing forward, their hands tearing at the oak

  The door burst open.

  Villagers poured through the opening, their skin blooming with dark flowers. The woman who sold bread. The blacksmith's boy. Old men

  Ash grabbed a broken piece of wood from the floor. A table leg.

  Fire erupted from his palm.

  Crimson flames wrapped around the wood.

  He swept it in front of him. Keeping them back.

  A woman lunged too close.

  The flames caught her sleeve. Spread up her arm.

  She screamed.

  The sound filled the shrine. She stumbled back, turned and ran out through the broken door and into the night.

  The others stopped.

  *She ran.* Ash watched them recoil from the fire.

  *They're afraid of the crimson fire?*

  Ash stepped forward. The fire crackled in his grip.

  Another villager stumbled back, then another, as the flames flared in the air between them.

  They scrambled back, shoving and falling over one another to get away.

  He reached the broken door.

  *The shrine survived the Abyss war.* His hand brushed the frame, and he felt the old grain under his fingers.

  *The wood was treated with alchemical solutions. It would burn, but the building wouldn't fall.*

  He pressed the burning wood against the frame. The fire spread, climbing up the sides, filling the entrance with heat and light.

  The villagers stopped just outside, pressing together until their skin reddened from the heat.

  He moved to the windows, spreading the fire until every broken frame was a curtain of flame. With the last opening blocked by the heat, the villagers outside went silent, leaving only the steady roar of the blaze.

  Ash stood in the center of the shrine. The wood in his hand had burned down. His palms stung. The Seed pulsed hot in his chest.

  Mira lay in her bed. Dust in her hair. Still breathing.

  Dozens of empty-eyed villagers watched from beyond the flames, waiting.

  *The shrine's protection.*

  *Old texts.*

  *A stone. Somewhere beneath.*

  *Where?*

  Fire hit the roof.

  A roar of heat and impact came first, cracking the ceiling and sending burning debris raining down.

  *What—*

  Ash threw himself over Mira. Covered her body as embers scattered across the bed.

  *Someone is attacking.*

  *But from where? The flames are blocking every entrance.*

  He pushed off the bed. Ran to the nearest window. The crimson flames still burned in the frame. He looked through the gap above them.

  Emma stood thirty paces from the shrine, her hands raised high as fire gathered between her palms. She threw, sending the flames arcing over the crimson fire and sailing through the air to crash onto the roof.

  *She's throwing over the fire.*

  Kyle stood beside her with flowers blooming from his neck, his hand reaching into a pouch to draw out a sphere. He pulled his arm back and sent the bomb sailing upward and over the flames.

  Ash dove away from the window.

  The explosion tore through the shrine behind him. The blast threw him against a row of beds. His ears rang. Dust filled his lungs.

  The healer's table split apart. Tools and jars flew everywhere.

  He pushed himself up and stumbled toward the window. His ears were still ringing from the blast.

  Marcus stood at the edge of the crowd now. A merchant's cart sat beside him, heavy oak with iron wheels.

  Marcus lifted it over his head.

  Marcus threw. The cart spun through the air. Crashed into the beds on the left wall. Wood exploded. The floor shook beneath Ash's feet.

  Emma threw another arc of fire. The roof took another blow. More debris fell.

  Another bomb hit the outer wall. The stones rattled around him.

  *The stone. I need to find the stone.*

  Ash ran to the center of the room. Dropped to his knees.

  His hands searched the floor. Fingers tracing stone. Looking for the seam.

  A second blast shook the walls.

  *Come on. Come on.*

  A groove. A square outline hidden beneath dust.

  He dug his fingers into the gap and pulled. The stone lifted, heavy and fighting him.

  Beneath it sat a hollow space with a crystal inside, dark and dull.

  Another explosion. Part of the back wall collapsed.

  Ash pressed his palms against the crystal. Reached for the Seed. Let his mana pour into the stone.

  The crystal pulsed.

  Green light spread from it. Racing along lines carved into the floor. Climbing the walls. Reaching the ceiling.

  Small stones pushed through cracks around the shrine. Dozens of green crystals rising. Glowing.

  The light connected. A web of mana spreading across every surface.

  The shield rose.

  Green light covered the walls. The ceiling. The floor. A dome of mana sealing the shrine.

  A blast of fire struck the dome. The sound came muffled now. Distant. The shield held.

  A bomb exploded against the barrier. Ash felt the vibration through the floor. The barrier absorbed the blast.

  He stood. His legs trembled. The Seed had gone quiet.

  *It's holding.*

  He walked to the window.

  Kyle stood outside. His hand frozen halfway to his pouch. Staring at the green dome.

  Emma lowered her hands. The fire between her palms faded.

  Marcus threw a stone bench. It hit the shield and bounced back, crashing into the villagers behind him.

  The villagers stood still, their empty faces covered in black flowers. They watched the barrier and did not move.

  Then the crowd parted.

  The villagers moved aside. Pushed by something Ash couldn't see.

  Ash activated the Crimson Eyes.

  The world shifted. Colors deepened. Threads became visible, dozens of them, hundreds, all pulsing through the village. All connected to a single point pushing through the crowd.

  Mira's brother. The thing that had worn his face.

  It screamed. The sound hit Ash's chest like a fist.

  The shrine walls shook and the villagers around it dropped to their knees.

  It screamed again. Ash's ears rang. Cracks spread through the stone beneath his feet.

  It stopped twenty paces from the shield.

  The threads converged on it. Every line of corrupted mana in the village flowing into its body. Feeding it.

  Its head turned toward the shrine. The creature began to change again.

  The threads pulsed faster, brighter.

  Villagers began walking toward it. One by one. Pressing their bodies against its flesh.

  The woman who sold bread reached it first. Her body pressed forward. Her arm sank into its side. Her shoulder followed. Her chest. She disappeared into the mass.

  The man from the fence came next. His body combining. His form vanishing.

  More came. Dozens of villagers walked into the creature.

  The brother's shape stretched and grew. Limbs multiplied. The human form dissolved into a mountain of merged flesh rising at the village center.

  Tentacles emerged.

  Thick as tree trunks, extending from the central mass. Reaching toward the sky.

  Kyle walked into the mass. Then Emma. Then Marcus.

  Their bodies pressed forward. Their forms disappeared.

  The creature rose higher.

  Its tentacles stretched in every direction. Testing the air.

  One of them turned toward the shrine.

  Ash stepped back from the window.

  *It's coming.*

  The first tentacle struck the dome.

  The impact shook the floor. Green light flickered across the walls. The dome didn't break, but Ash felt the vibration through the crystal beneath the floor. A strain.

  Another tentacle hit. The shrine trembled

  Then another. Dust rained from above.

  *The shield is strong.*

  *But I drained myself to activate it.*

  *I can't feed it more mana.*

  The creature stopped attacking. Ash watched through the gap in the walls as the massive body shifted, rising higher against the night sky.

  Then it dropped.

  The full weight of the merged flesh slammed against the earth. The sound hit Ash first, a deep boom that rattled his teeth and shook his chest. The ground heaved beneath his feet and threw him sideways. Stones fell from what remained of the walls. The ceiling beams groaned and one of them cracked, swinging loose above his head.

  *It's trying to bring the building down.*

  *Bury us under the rubble.*

  The creature rose and dropped again. The floor buckled. Mira's bed slid across the stone and crashed against the far wall. Ash crawled after her.

  The shaking stopped. Ash pushed himself up and looked at the creature.

  It had gone still. He could hear it breathing, a thick gurgling in its chest. Its center began to swell, the mass of flesh expanding outward, stretching larger with each passing second.

  Then it released.

  Black mist poured from the mass. It rolled across the ground toward the shrine, thick and low, and when it touched the green dome the light hissed and flickered.

  The shield began to crack. Lines spreading across the surface like ice breaking under weight.

  The creature struck.

  One tentacle drove through the weakened dome. The shield shattered outward in fragments of green light and the darkness poured in.

  The tentacles reached through.

  One wrapped around a support pillar. Stone groaned. Cracked. The pillar collapsed.

  Another found the roof. Punched through tiles. Tore beams apart.

  A third coiled around the back wall. Pulled.

  The roof tore free.

  The tentacle yanked the roof upward and hurled it into the night. It crashed beyond the village walls.

  Dust and debris rained down. Small pieces. Ash covered Mira. Felt fragments hit his back. His arms.

  Then silence.

  He raised his head.

  The shrine lay open. Some walls still stood, partial and broken. Moonlight poured through the space above.

  Above, the creature's tentacles withdrew. Pulled back toward the central mass.

  *It stopped moving.*

  *Why?*

  *Why isn't it—*

  Then he felt it.

  The Seed moved without his permission. Mana flooded through channels he hadn't opened. The Crimson Eyes blazed bright.

  Behind him. The back room.

  Mana poured from it, pure and dense. The pressure pushed against his skin and into his bones. Breathing became hard.

  His body grew heavy.

  His limbs refused to move. His muscles locked. The weight pushed him down. Pinned him to the floor.

  He couldn't turn his head. Couldn't look behind him. Could only kneel in the wreckage, his body over Mira.

  The creature outside had frozen.

  Its tentacles hung motionless.

  The flowers throughout its body began to wilt. Black petals curling inward. Stems shrinking.

  The back room door creaked.

  Wood scraping against stone.

  Opening.

  Footsteps.

  Slow. Heavy. Each one sending vibrations through the ruined floor.

  Coming closer.

  The mana grew denser. Ash's vision blurred at the edges.

  The footsteps stopped.

  Right behind him.

  Silence.

  Then a single breath.

  Long. Deep. The sound filled the ruined shrine.