CoESC Book 18-10.1: The War for Turf (Patreon)

Arcana Weaving, or magic as it was commonly called, wasn’t quite what Lucian imagined. Growing up, he’d read books, heard stories, and pried knowledge from history books. Magi always came from across the sea, he knew. Everyone knew it. They came to Rakkisgrad once every few years to look for possible apprentices, and they brought them back across the sea to their islands of magic and wonder. 

So he was quite elated when he was picked, though he still had no idea how he was selected in the first place, nor how they managed to send the invitation through a computer game. That had to be new, considering the communication network had just been launched a year ago…or rather, had become accessible to the general public through network cafes last year. He had little doubt that the government and military had better communication systems than the rest of the flock. What was more surprising was that the network allowed easier communications with nations across the inner ocean, actually, though it was limited to sending letters more than anything else. 

Anyway, Masquerade Saga was a text-based game that had nice pictures that he and his roomies played during their off hours. It was quite a surprise to receive a letter from Bellemer through an in-game feature. He didn’t believe it, of course, but he accepted anyway. And the very next hour, he was almost killed, or maybe abducted, only to be rescued by Mistress Elaine at the last minute. 

He’d been concerned for his sister then, of course, though he now wondered why he chose to play a game that day instead of something more important…

Thankfully, he finally found her, only to see a stranger with barely a hint of his sister. He still didn’t really believe it, but Mistress Elaine opined that Amalia had awakened a different heritage than he did. 

He didn’t know if that was the truth. He didn’t know where he’d find the truth, and he could do nothing about it now. He took solace from the fact that the newscasters hadn’t mentioned Amalia’s capture or death. They would crow at every successful manhunt, so no news was, frankly, good news. 

Then, there was nothing for the past month. No contact, no messages left on his pager. Nothing. 

He’d been given a basic primer to Bellemer’s disciplines, and he learned the basics. Subtle weaving. 

Magi, it turned out, don’t really throw fireballs around, not if they wanted to remain people anyway. Lucian had to admit that part of his dreams was shattered then and there. Mistress Elaine did rescue him with a car and an assault rifle, however, so there was that. 

Irisvaile resisted overt magical display, apparently. Or more accurately, having people who weren’t magi—and other supernatural beings—witness overt magic made the plane strike back. It wouldn’t stop the magic, but it generated a backlash. The more people who witness it, the harsher the backlash. 

…but maybe if the witnesses don’t remember it…? Or if there were no witnesses, then his dream of casting a fireball at irritating people would be fulfilled! 

Er, not that he’d actually do that, really. 

Anyway…the most useful, and most versatile spell included in the primer—one that could scale as high as he grew capable—was called Reinforcement. It could also be split into two parts to specialise in much later, but he could also focus on the general spell. It was actually a choice presented as soon as he got past the introduction, which further highlighted its importance, since he could only inscribe one spell into his Arcana Heart. The general Reinforce spell, or the specialised version that only worked on his body, or into external objects. He chose the general version. 

Even though specialising meant that the spell would be a circle or so higher in effectiveness compared to the general spell. The versatility was more useful, and he didn’t expect to be in life-or-death battles anytime soon, or rather, he wouldn’t use spellcraft to fight those battles. 

Which was ironic considering that he and his fellow apprentices, Tristan and Chloe, were on their way to a war zone. Probably. 

He’d just finished inscribing his spell to his Arcana Heart, too, though he’d been practising throughout the month. 

He found himself in the safehouse’s garage, attired in casual clothes fit for the sweltering weather. He cast Reinforcement on those clothes, making them tough enough to deflect or stop bullets. It was a pity he couldn’t wear a long-sleeved shirt, since they’d be soaked in sweat in practically no time. It would also draw too much attention to him, in case he had to act. His arms being exposed wasn’t too bad anyway. 

His fingers brushed the pistol holstered at his waist, as well as the extending metal baton next to it. He knew both items inside out, and he prepared them for a stronger version of the Reinforcement spell. With the general spell inside his Arcana Heart, he could run two instances of it without much strain. Body and clothing, for strength and protection. The third instance, he’d use on either weapon as needed. 

Mistress Elaine strode into the garage with a hurried stride and a somewhat anxious expression. Lucian was just about to ask for details, but she raised a finger telling him to wait for the others. Nemeo soon entered, followed by the two younger apprentices. 

Tristan was a lanky young man, a year younger than he was, but was already a couple of inches taller. Not as much as his sister’s new look, but close enough. Chloe was a tiny girl, cute as a button, who was fiercer than a badger. She inscribed the Body Reinforcement spell, which actually boosted her physique by a flat amount rather than a percentile boost, which meant her tiny body packed more of a punch than what would be apparent… which might actually cause backlash if she wasn’t careful. 

“Get in,” Elaine said curtly. Lucian squeezed into the backseat of the same car she used to rescue him a month ago. 

He detected the mistress Reinforcing the car as she turned on the ignition, which handily explained why the rent-a-car became bulletproof back then. 

“Who are we fighting, mistress?” Tristan asked. 

“An incursion.”

The word sent chills down Lucian’s spine. An incursion of walking corpses. The things that broke Nurevia. The things that took his dad from him. His hand tightened on his baton. He didn’t think he’d get a chance for revenge so soon. 

___________

“Sire, an incursion has begun at 15:00 hours.” 

“I know.” 

“Your orders?”

“Leave them to the thralls and our ‘allies’ until the kindred can act, then burn them out of existence.”

“The spread would be…”

“Nothing to be done.”

“Darkening?” 

“Not worth the sacrifice.”

“As you will.” 

_____________

“Your Highness, there’s a situation in the city.”

“I don’t care. Deal with it.”

“At once, Kaiser…”

_____________

Yuriko’s instinct was to unleash her Satellite Swords and cut the rising dead down, but she held back her reflexes and took some distance instead. Cutting the walking corpses only meant that there would be more of them to fight soon, either because the dismembered parts stitched themselves together — not necessarily with the original body — or they spread spores that infected and animated dead organic matter. Sometimes, it didn’t have to begin as dead matter either. She didn't know the threshold, and in a city with a population in the millions…

Why did she go through here anyway? Yuriko sighed to herself as she drew the two combat knives she owned. Neither had seen much actual combat use, but she maintained them as well as she could. She had been a bit spotty with actual blade maintenance since it had been years since she had a mundane weapon. The Arclight Sword was the only material blade her true body used with any kind of regularity, and the enchantments put into it when it was forged ensured that it maintained itself on stray Chaos or directed Animus. 

But taking care of her swords, her blades, was part of her Truth of Yuriko’s Sword; thus, she could never really forget, nor could she be so inept as to damage the knives by accident. On purpose to serve a need, yes, but not by negligence. 

As it were, the combat knives were razor sharp, though that fact hardly mattered to the current conflict. Cutting down the walking corpses wasn't going to return them to rest, and burning them only spread spores and smoke. Throughout her month of travels, the only thing that she found that could destroy the spores without having to burn them in containment was Radiance. Even a smidgen was more than enough, but the danger was that she could drain her reserves if she was careless. 

So she used the combat knives as a focus. Radiant energy dribbled from her fingertips and slid down the blades until they reached the tip. The motes didn’t touch the metal, as to do so was to infuse Radiance into them and subsequently consume them, but remained a tiny fraction of an inch away. 

Yuriko evaded the corpse’s lunge by the barest minimum, then she stabbed its centre mass, and pulled back just before the metal could actually pierce, and was just close enough for the mote of Radiance to touch it. The mote seeped into the corpse, and with her implanted command, spread into its body and consumed all of it. 

The burst of wild Radiance was a comfort for all that it left bleached spots on the ground and the pavement. 

But of course, there wasn’t only one walking corpse. In the time it took her to annihilate the first one, dozens had clawed their way out of the mounds. Some of them looked like the first one—freshly dead with dirt clinging to their funerary clothes—while others, the ones that came out of the ground last, were little more than bones covered in white filaments that mimicked both nerves and muscles. The filaments extended towards the freshly turned earth and pulled them towards the bare bones, forming a mud suit similar to the ones she encountered in that first village. 

She hadn’t been the only target the walkers had when they came up. Other pedestrians, and presumably the memorial park staff, were out and about. The Rakkisgrad District 4 Memorial Park was about three square longstrides, and most of that was covered in tombs. Most of the dead were buried underground, but some of the wealthier members of the district had mausoleums. Either way, from where she was, most of the earthen plots had dead rising out of them, and they zeroed in on the living until she used Radiance to delete one of the corpses. 

Now, they were all oriented towards her. Oh joy. 

Just her type of opponent. Implacable, yet mindless enough that they didn’t have the capability to adapt. So all she needed to do was find a particularly effective—or simply good enough—attack and keep doing it until there was nothing left. 

She sighed again and strode towards the horde. It was just midafternoon, a couple of hours before the workday ended, which meant most of the park’s visitors were children, those who took time out of work, or homeless looking for a spot to rest. Not that she expected a cemetery to be filled with visitors outside of the national holiday for the dead anyway. 

The walking corpses shambled towards her at a pace that she could easily keep up with. She stabbed, evaded, did the same thing, over and over again. At the very least, the bursts of Radiance could be reabsorbed, though she could only recoup about a single percent of what was released. The remnants vanished into Irisvaile’s mysterious methods instead of lingering in the atmosphere. 

She continued to fight, bored to tears at the repetitive actions of a mindless foe. Until one of them dodged her attack and slammed a skeletal claw at her face.