I stand tall.
[Biological Restoration 12 > 13]
Almost a week in bed. My wounds are scabbed over, but mostly healed, and my organs are largely restored. I don’t feel amazing, but I feel good. My vessel is full, the attunement loop still running to contain the fury of my mana.
There’s a simplicity to it all that I appreciate. A simple, step-by-step guide.
My friends don’t like the wayfarers. We avoid them, and prepare countermeasures. They cause us trouble. And now… they’ll burn.
Inu steps in line next to me. She stands to my right, Thatch and Sylves to my left. Opal is in the guild, but the rest of the party is with us. Bay, Norman and Jess hanging in the back, while Richard walks alongside us. Amelie hangs even further back, but I know she’s around. We’re all hiding a few ethereal threads under our clothes.
And a few enchantments, and bombs, of course.
Usually, Norman would slip in first in a mission like this. Free Opal, get out. But we’re here to cause more trouble than that. No, Norman won’t go inside to do anything. He’ll have plenty of work laid out for him on the outside.
Instead, it’s Inu who heads in first. The guild is a large building. In fact, it’s almost a whole compound. Scithians stand guard outside, but they’re sloppy. Clad in leather armor, adorned with leaves and bits of tough bark, they lean lazily on their spears and easily wave the brave girl through, even though she’s wearing full heavy armor, made by Bay and enchanted by yours truly.
There’s a moment of breath, then Thatch follows her in. Then Richard, then me, then Sylves. Another heartbeat passes. I close my eyes as I step across the threshold of the doorstep. The inside is large. A giant building, lined with runes. They’re decently made, and the person who carved them knows how to string them together.
I take a second deep breath. Then I open my eyes, and the screaming starts.
- - -
Jess hangs back on the outside, watching. There’s a certain amount of preparation that her, Bay and Norman are expected to do. So, for now, she waits. Her husband drapes himself in that veil of normalcy, humming quiet tunes to himself as he walks around the guildhall, placing down bits of metal and wire.
A heartbeat passes, then a second, then the first scream comes from inside. Another full ten seconds after that, the guards outside turn their eyes on them, and notice the actions. They open their mouths, and Jess sighs.
With a flick of her wrist, and a whispered word, a bolt of ice slams through the first scithian’s mouth. Spearing all the way through the back, and nailing him to the wall. Her second spell is supercharged, and much more powerful.
With a full sentence of chanting that leaves her throat raw from the mana rushing through it, a fireball appears in her hand. It flickers with magic, the kind that likes to eat into mana, the kind that borrows from Snow just a bit. It’s the kind that’ll eat the wood of the guild right up.
Even as the second guard yells an alarm, the building catches flame.
Flickering lights reflect in Jess’ calm eyes. Her expression remains frozen. She simply does what must be done. Well, not quite. There is some joy she takes in arson.
- - -
The smell of smoke reaches my nostrils. It’s woody, earthy, and smells like a campfire. I don’t mind it, really. Sylves smiles, and the wind rises around her, creating shells that keep the worst of the choking fumes away from us, directing the air like a maestro.
I only watch for a second as Richard sinks her teeth into someone’s leg. Another moment, Inu bounces an enemy into Thatch, who slams their face into the ground. Somehow, it doesn’t look painful. Then, around Inu, people collapse in agony, holding their heads.
After those moments, people finally notice me. My task is simple, though. I have already done most of it.
Two weeks. That’s how long I’ve had to analyze everyone in the guild. I’ve taken bits and pieces of their classes, undermining their abilities, and pairing them up. There are two enemies for me to actually fight, two people that are mine to kill. Other than that, I am here to make sure the battle goes well.
An archer summons an arrow of light, and it fragments before he can fire it. There’s a woman, clinging to the wall, running up towards the ceiling to get the drop on us, when that adhesion fails and she plummets to the floor, where I throw a grenade at her.
[Deconstruction 14 > 15]
In the back of a room, a mage in green robes starts to cast spells of ice, throwing them at the fire and at Sylves, but his icicles crumble. A woman’s muscles grow and thicken as she charges at Thatch, a head taller than him, but when she moves to punch, she suddenly finds herself weak.
[Suppression 19 > 20]
Thatch slams his fist into her stomach, and I can see her ribs buckle and snap. That’s the insidious nature of my preparation. I don’t know everything. Not every ability, not every person around us, but in the cacophony of noise, I simply put on my headphones, tuning out the droning, and move.
Around me, abilities shatter.
Weakness spreads like a grim reaper’s scythe. Anyone attacking my companions falters and staggers. People try to hit Richard, only for their arms to grow heavy. People bounce against Inu, and find themselves rocketed away. When Thatch hits, adamantium skin turns brittle and soft, and when Sylves fires blades of wind, no one dodges, their legs too heavy.
I don’t hit anyone. I don’t lash out, I don’t slaughter. But the tower knows. The tower knows that they are breaking against me.
[Class up! Nullmage 10 > 12]
[Level Up! 39 > 40]
More points in vessel. My mana flows out of me, and into my swirling abilities. I draw on [Deconstruction] and [Suppression], breaking and weakening. I undermine, I use tiny bits of power in critical moments. I sabotage joints and tendons as much as possible, and shatter bones with torrents of power when required.
And then, Thatch finds his first tough opponent.
[Observation 6 > 7]
Of course, that is relative. After all, it’s someone strong. I know his class, and it’s [Fortress]. He’s tall, strong, muscle bound, and he fights Thatch for a simple reason. Because my friend is strong against him. Inu’s defensive skills would bounce off, and Sylves’ wind blades aren’t strong enough to pierce. But Thatch?t
When the young man strikes, red rage rips right through the man’s skin. It invades the muscles underneath, and breaks soft flesh as it ravages him.
My own skills don’t work well here, so when the retaliation comes, it slams into Thatch. He’s sent flying back as if hit by a sledgehammer, the air knocked out of him. But I can see it, see the way that he’s angry. It’s a controlled kind of rage, channelled into what it needs to be. He fans the flames, and it floods him.
When Thatch jumps off the wall, the wood splinters, and his punch carves a hole into the giant’s stomach. Still, the man retains conscious for a moment, delivering a crushing blow to my friend even as he crumples - only for Inu to appear.
As if teleporting, she’s suddenly in front of Thatch. The giant’s hammer lands on her armguard, denting the metal. I can almost hear the bones underneath creaking from the impact. A moment passes, then that force is returned in its entirety.
A shockwave rebounds off of Inu’s forearm, slamming into the tall man, and sending him crashing through the roof, into the first floor, splattering the ground with blood. It rains on Thatch, staining his blonde hair, but he just chuckles, clenching his bloody fists and looking for another target.
His heartbeat’s scary loud. And, indeed, there are the first signs of fear as the smoke grows denser. Sylves still shields us, easily gliding through the air, and I can tell she’s doing… something. Something insidious. Whispering creepy things to the wind. People flinch, their fear amplified.
And they run.
It’s simple, at first. A rogue, diving out of a window, then a mage quickly scurrying for the door, somehow avoiding us.
But it’s hopeless. Outside, they scream even louder, barely making it over the sound of creaking metal. “Ah!! Fuck!! Is that a beartrap?!”
Then, the sound of a knife, and I can hear a tiny, quiet sigh from Norman. The other person is welcomed by yet another sound of moving hinges, crunching bones, and then a spell piercing flesh.
Our cleanup crew is doing work.
Slowly, I feel okay about this all. And that’s, of course, when the first opponent marked for me walks down the stairs. A sleepy looking sumeen, tall, wrapped in dark robes, cut to fit the different sections of their body. They rub a few of the six holes on their face, then hum a melodic tune. “What’s this all about, then?”
Without hesitation, Sylves sends a wind-blade at them, only to have it crack and crumble apart mid-air.
I sigh, softly, setting forward. Let’s see then. Let’s see how my magic holds up against another anti-mage.
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