He ran his senses over the girl, but she seemed uninjured, so he left the room and with a wave the latches locked behind him. She’d be safe in there. Most of the fighting seemed to come from downstairs, but there were students running from creatures here as well. His right was clear, and many students were fleeing to hide within the classrooms there. But to his left, there were students scrambling down the hall, running for their lives.
A pink gremlin ran with two machetes made of rock. There was blood on both of them. It chased two first-year girls past him.
“Ink Spell Torturous Maxim.” Ink rose from the ground, distracting the creature. A moment later it writhed in pain as ink covered its body. In minutes the spell would reduce it to ink itself. A mere puddle on the ground.
He looked up as a large hand gripped the banister. The railing cracked under the pressure. Some creature had jumped from below. Sen strode over to the edge and made eyes at the creature still climbing. It was an orange demon with goat's horns and the face of a horse. It froze, opening its mouth to roar.
“Butterfly Maxima.” The fluttering insect flew into the demon, and it ceased to exist. He couldn’t afford to risk crushing students below.
“Tutor, where is everyone?”
While he waited for Tutor to track them down, he turned his attention to another spell. “Black Wolf Howl Maxima.” In an instant, the black wolf pack leader appeared before him in a puff of black. Around it, Sen estimated about twelve wolves. Several students screamed, thinking these wolves were here to attack them as well. They fled while the wolves’ attention was on Sen.
“I want you and the pack to hunt down the creatures attacking the students and faculty. Kill as many as you can. If the students or teachers attack you, do not fight back. Flee and find other opportunities to help. Do you understand?”
The large black wolf nodded and turned to follow the fleeing students heading further into the right wing of the school. The other wolves split up into pairs, each of them going to hunt down the creatures they smelled in every direction.
[Last known positions. Mori went into town to shop. Ilm is likely in the dorm room. Milim probably arrived early at the training hall. Samara will be in the dining hall. I will reach out to Pupil and send a distress call for Mori if possible. However, since coming to this time, our link has been strained over long distances.]
Pupil was Mori’s version of Tutor.
The door guardian and Mori’s wards would keep Ilm safe, as long as she stayed in her room. Mori would go straight to check on her when he returned, so Sen would go after the girls, helping as many people as he could along the way.
Mana Encapsulation flowed over him like an aggressive gust, and he ran towards the stairwell where more students were pushing upwards. He activated several enhancing spells simultaneously.
The mental protections of Adamantine Mind, several cognitive enhancements, and he even opted to use Time Crawl briefly. He needed to assess the situation better. He ran alongside the railing and peered over it.
The school was in a state of sheer chaos. The monsters chasing the students weren’t the only ones that shouldn’t be here. Men in brown hoods were moving up the stairs and chasing them around the academy as well. Some creatures and cultists were carrying students, dragging them downstairs. A strange black fog settled over the first floor in a way that Sen’s eyes couldn’t penetrate. Something was going on down there. He could sense powerful spells being tossed in every direction. Sen felt a hint of something strange upstairs as well, but for the moment, he couldn’t sense any fighting. He’d start by heading downstairs and helping the fleeing students there.
This was a lot to take in. While he’d been forging a weapon, the cult of Harpis had made their way into Bright Sail, and they’d brought along an army of beasts and demons. He couldn’t understand how they’d possibly breached the school’s defenses. Even Mori had added additional wards. They couldn’t have entered the campus without being invited in. He squinted. Had someone betrayed the academy? His thoughts immediately turned to the faculty of Fire Kite and Green Book. It was possible they were lingering in Bright Sail for this purpose. He’d need to investigate that.
As he hit the stairs, a group of students fled a lesser demon that resembled a humanoid cheetah and several cultists. He lifted a hand. “Barrier Maxim.” A magic barrier trapped four enemies at once on the side of the stairwell. He continued past them, casting a new spell as he rounded the stairwell. “Crush Barrier Maxim.”
The barrier began to close slowly. By the time it was finished, it would be a one-inch cube filled with the remains of those stupid enough to attack innocents in his vicinity.
[I wish we could stay and watch. For research purposes, of course.]
Sen shook his head. “That’s gruesome, even for you.”
[You’re the one who cast the spell!]
Sen conceded that.
He arrived on the second floor and looked in both directions. A ghostly humanoid apparition was halfway through a classroom door. “Become Flesh Maxim.” Its body slicked down the doorway, dying instantly as its new body was made flesh with a door separating its halves.
To his left, he saw a greater demon being pinned down by a staff. Professor Sikar thrust the staff through the creature’s throat. He turned, noticing movement, but relaxed when he saw Sen. Behind him, a group of students was waiting. “Get upstairs!” he barked, and they hurried off.
“What’s going on?” Sen asked. He looked over the railing, a ten-foot drop would take him through the black cloud barrier. “And what’s this smoke from?”
Professor Sikar looked toward the smoke. “Invasion. The cult of Harpis has made its move.” He turned to look at the barrier as well, swatting his staff to purge it of demon blood. “Dean Withershade, the Dean of Fire Kite, and the High Professor of Green Book are down there now with other faculty members and a few fourth-years. The rest of us are trying to get the students to the fourth floor. We’re having students take shelter in the high-grade artifact collection. Our best defenses are there.”
Sen looked down at the demon. “How can I help?” he asked.
Professor Sikar pointed further down the hall. “If you could—” He paused, suddenly looking up.
Sen noticed it too. A gateway had been opened above them. A presence similar to the one Professor Sikar had just defeated emerged. No, he tilted his head. There were at least three of them.
A look of horror spread across Sikar’s face. “No…they’re going after the students!”
Sen hesitated. “I need to find Milim. She was in the training room.”
Sikar turned to look in that direction. “I’m heading in that direction now. I was dealing with this one, and others got past me. Professor Ladia is upstairs with some of the other Academy War students. Help her. I’ll come when I can. Your spells should be effective in this scenario, and your old teammates are up there.”
Tutor sensed Sen’s internal conflict. [A majority of the students are upstairs. If those presences reach them, casualties could be significant.]
Sen turned and noticed the body of a student he’d somehow missed before. A fourth-year student. Ranked somewhere in the forties on the rankings.
It was the student who had run from their duel the other day.
Donovan.
Anger coursed through him. He held a hand up toward Sikar and applied several wards and enhancements to the professor. If he was trusting the lives of his friends to Sikar, he wanted to make sure the man was prepared. He should be able to handle demons of this caliber. Whatever was upstairs was the greater threat.
Sen tore his necklace off his neck and ran toward the stairs quickly, pushed forward by the speed of Encapsulation.
They would pay for this.
Mori
“Thank you! And may I say, it was wonderful talking with you. I’m sure you’ll find a way to connect with your stepdaughter. Just hang in there,” he said to the shopkeeper. A pleasant woman who’d helped him find the last item on his long list. He turned and made his way toward the front door of the shop, filled with rare herbs and plants. He walked through an aisle of glass bottles and casually took note of their contents. Purple-spotted magic trappers, mimic lilies, botanist bark essence, and a few preserved, perfectly normal orchids.
His attention shifted back to the front door and the group of men waiting outside. He turned to look back at the shopkeeper. “Excuse me, Mrs. Arkle, you wouldn’t happen to owe money to any nefarious figures? Or perhaps your shop has been taken advantage of by some sort of protection racket? If so, I’d be happy to rid you of the problem. Only say the word.”
The shopkeeper shook her head. “Uh, no. Is…is someone out there?” she asked.
“Apologies, just a…bad joke.” So they were there for him. How odd. He stepped out of the store and into a magic barrier. He took in the scenario in an instant. The ground beneath him was clearly the cobblestone road of Bright Sail, but a large wall of shadow magic had encircled him and the men waiting for him inside it. He counted ten. The shadows spiked high into the air, but they weren’t totally cut off from the world outside. He could see the stars in the sky above. The men wore hoods and masks of brown that obscured them. Mori recognized them from Sen and Ilm’s recollection of their previous run-ins with the Cult of Harpis.
“Ah, it was about time we had a run-in of our own. What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
One of them stepped forward, waving a knife. “You could die? You wanna do that for us?” He tossed the knife to Mori’s feet. “Pick it up and slit your throat.”
Mori felt the hint of a suggestion spell. The talking one was a distraction; the others were working to persuade his mind. He heard the thoughts they projected.
It makes sense.
Well, if it would brighten their day, I suppose I could.
I did forget to do my laundry today; might as well die. I guess.
Mori frowned. “Oh my god. I forgot my laundry.” He turned and looked down at the knife, infusing his will into his words, and kicked it back toward the man who had thrown it to him.
“No, you,” he said. It wasn’t a spell, so much as a…overriding of the authority of what they’d cast on him. It was one of Mori’s unique gifts.
The man tsked. He picked the dagger up, took a step toward Mori as if to attack, and then stabbed himself in the face. Unfortunately for the man, it wasn’t enough to kill him outright. “Agh!”
Mori winced. “Hm. To be fair, you said throat. I don’t know why your subconscious interpreted it that way.”
Two of the cultists rushed him, and they struck with surprising strength. Mori carefully lifted the bag of goods in his hands, pulling it out of the way. With his free hand, he quickly swatted away one attacker’s fist, and then spun and backhanded the other.
They were surprisingly strong. Stronger than he’d perceived them to be. “You’re punching above your stats, gentlemen. Are all of you enhanced? Are those techniques that common amongst the cult of Harpis?” he asked.
“Hah! You haven’t noticed. It’s the barrier! Within the shadow cloak, our strength is unending. You can’t possibly hope to win. You’ve already shown us your specialty is mental manipulation. So we’ll just kill you with brute force,” one of them said. The men encircled him, slowly pushing in.
Mori squinted. He sat the bag down between his feet and held a hand to his chin. “So it’s a barrier…but it also enhances the abilities of those within? I’ve never thought of that. Oh, the master will be pleased with this.” He bowed to no one in particular. “I am truly grateful for this lesson. If you don’t mind, I’d like to try it for myself.”
Unfortunately, Harpis’ followers weren’t the most well-mannered. They attacked instead of waiting for him to make a move.
A move he had already made. Strength, Speed, Magic, and enhanced Constitution flowed into him. The men struck him with fists, weapons, and close - up magic attacks. Not one penetrated the effects of the barrier plus its enhancing effects. Most of them broke hands simply trying to touch him. “Oh, this is marvelous.”
The men stumbled back. The one who had spoken earlier looked to another. “Fix your spell, now!” he shouted. They could feel that the enhancements had left their bodies.
Mori sighed. “Oh, you haven’t realized yet? It’s no longer your spell. I usurped it. You haven’t trapped me, my friends. You trapped yourselves in here with me.”
The man shook his head. “No…who are you?” he stammered.
“I’m Mori Locke. I served as court magician for King Ragmár for a hundred years during the reign of the Kingdom of Magic. Before that, I served the God of Magic himself. Now, which of you reminded me to do my laundry?”
One of them slowly raised a hand.
Mori nodded. “Excellent. I’ll spare you. My apologies for the imminent death of your friends.”
/c/KaneDrake
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