Chapter 608: Cordon of Light (Patreon)

Note from Tom: I don't think the experiment with weekly postings (of 3 chapters at once) has worked too well, so from this point on, I'll be going back to more regularly spaced chapter postings.

This has also been a particularly disruptive month as well, and I'm aware I'm a bit behind schedule. Hopefully, I'll catch up over the next few days.____________________________________________________________

I had to steal the chalice, that was certain.

But how I went about it… that bit was far from clear. And before I jumped down another rabbit hole, I knew I had to speak to Ceruvax.

He was the only one of my allies who had intimated knowing something about the chalice. When we’d first discussed the mysterious artifact in Draven’s Reach, the old wolf had refused to share what he knew. I smiled grimly. But I was sure once he heard Tosh’s tale, he would see things differently.

Closing my eyes, I reached out through my farspeaker bracelet to the Roost. “Ceruvax?”

“He hasn’t arrived yet, Michael,” Shael replied over the same communication link. A pause. “And won’t for another two days.”

“Damn,” I muttered softly. I’d known that, of course, but caught up in the latest developments, the now-inconvenient timing of Ceruvax’s arrival had slipped my mind. Thinking quickly, I came to a decision. “One of you will have to return to base to relay a message to him.”

“We can do that,” the bard assured me. “Has something happened?”

“Yes, something has,” I replied bluntly. “But I don’t want to get into it over the farspeaker bracelet. We’ll talk more when I return to the Roost.”

“Understood,” Shael replied.

“I’ll carry your message,” Miriam offered.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “Tell Ceruvax to forget the experiments with the nagas. I want him here as soon as he is done with the twins.” I hesitated, then added. “It’s urgent.”

“Got it,” the forsworn replied. “Leaving now.” A moment later, I sensed her exit the farspeaker link.

“We have some news of our own to share,” Llewyn added before I could disconnect myself.

“What news?” I asked in surprise.

“The village has gotten busy since your departure,” Shael reported. “Your doing, I suppose?”

I thought of the soldiers who’d planned on taking shelter in the safe zone. The bard had to mean them. “Not really. The visitors you’re referring to… are they, by any chance, a company of twenty Dark players?”

“Twenty?” Deryn repeated dubiously. “They sound like a lot more than that.”

“They do,” Shael agreed. “We can hear them in the streets, but we haven’t left the Roost to investigate.”

“And you shouldn’t,” I said, drumming my fingers along my thigh as I thought. “How many players do you reckon there are?”

“A hundred, maybe?” Deryn suggested.

“More,” Shael contradicted. “They’re searching the safe zone, one building at a time, but, of course, they can’t enter any building they don’t own, so we should be fine.”

Urgh. The only conclusion that I could reach from Shael’s report was that Muriel’s people had sent reinforcements. And by the sounds of it, they’d already traced the fleeing Dark soldiers to their refuge and were combing the safe zone for them.

Did I also have hunters on my trail?

My face tightened in grim realization. If I was not already being pursued, I was sure I would be once Maricella, Jobe, and the others from the defeated Light company revived in the safe zone.

I had two options, then.

One, portal back to the Roost, and out of harm’s way, to wait out Ceruvax’s arrival there. But even after receiving my message, the old wolf would not be able to leave Sanctuary immediately. The twins’ awakening would keep him busy for the rest of the day, and the earliest I could expect him to arrive was tonight.

But I saw no reason to waste an entire day doing nothing.

That left option two: continuing my exploration of the sector. Heading west to the wyvern caves no longer made sense, though. I couldn’t risk getting entangled with Loken or his envoy until I’d spoken to Ceruvax. That left venturing farther north, traveling beyond the Lightsworn’s fortified line of camps until I reached the Dark stronghold at the dungeon portal.

If Paya and the chalice were anywhere in this sector, it would be there. And while I’d no intention of actually trying to steal the thing until I heard what Ceruvax had to say, there was no reason not to scout out the terrain first.

Opening my eyes, I let my gaze settle on Tosh. “Tell me everything you know about the defenses the Dark have erected around their base. And while you’re at it, describe the Light’s fortifications too.”

  ✵ ✵ ✵

Tosh spoke at length. And not all of what he had to share was common knowledge. The blood-bound player was a rogue, and like most rogues, had a knack for ferreting out secrets—especially the secrets of places you might want to break in or out of.

After digesting everything he had to say about the Lightsworn and Darksworn’s defenses, only one word came to mind when describing them: formidable. The spells protecting the Forcesworn’s camps were far beyond anything I’d seen in even the Devil Rider’s castle in the Eastern Marches.

Thankfully, though, they were not on par with Nexus’ defenses.

Because while it appeared that Paya and a few other minor Powers were present in the sector, neither Muriel nor Tartar themselves were in attendance. That would have been a significant escalation in hostilities that neither side wanted at this stage. Practically, all this meant was that, at worst, I’d be facing tier eight wards.

And bypassing such wards were… doable. Attempting to do so would not be easy, and not without risk, but still doable.

Rising to my feet, I oriented myself northward. “Let’s go,” I ordered Tosh.

The rogue followed willingly enough but the change in direction did not escape him. “I thought we were heading west?”

“Not anymore, we’re not,” I replied. “Now, we’re heading north.”

“Why?” he asked curiously.

“I want to see the Dark’s stronghold with my own eyes.”

Tosh stopped. “We’ll never make it. The whole region is crawling with Light soldiers and scouts.”

Smiling, I glanced over my shoulder at him. “That’s what I have you for.”

“Why don’t we use a portal?” Tosh persisted.

I shook my head. “You know why.”

Since sector 12,560 was still unclaimed, there was nothing stopping me from creating a portal to somewhere farther north that I’d already been to—like for instance, the former camp of the Red Rats.

But doing so would be neither wise nor safe.

Players had ways of detecting a portal’s opening. Not only that, they could also ward an area, stopping anyone from portaling into or out of it—just like the Riders had done in the Eastern Marches. And a war such as the one being fought in sector 12,560, was as much about warding and counter-warding to restrict the enemy’s movements as it was about numbers.

All that meant, as time-consuming as it was, travelling on foot was the safest way to traverse the sector.

The rogue grunted, unimpressed by my response. “Using a portal will be safer than trying to sneak through the Light’s lines wearing a Shadow Mark. Jobe isn’t Muriel’s only inquisitor, you know.”

“A good point,” I murmured. I’d been planning on changing my disguise later, when we got closer to our destination, but perhaps it was better to see to it now. Closing my eyes, I began casting.

You have transformed your form into that of Flynn, a level 212 human windwalker. You have changed your spirit signature to bear a Mark of Greater Light. Duration: infinite.

“Better?” I asked when I was done.

Tosh eyed my new skin warily. “How’d you do that?”

“Irrelevant,” I replied easily. “The more important question is: will my disguise withstand scrutiny by the Lightsworn?”

The rogue frowned. “I assume that however you did that, you used a spell?”

I nodded.

“Then the casting likely won’t survive passage through the wards surrounding the camps. But… ” He pursed his lips in thought. “It should be good enough to get us past any patrols we encounter.”

“Excellent. And you have all the right passcodes for those, right?”

Tosh nodded, hesitated fractionally, then added, “But you do realize that sooner or later someone is going to realize my body is missing from the mess you left back in that glade?”

I cocked my head to the side. “Why should they? As you said I left things a bloody mess. Perhaps your disappearance will go unnoticed.”

The rogue shook his head grimly. “It won’t.”

I didn’t question his conviction a second time. “Alright, how long do you think we have until your people realize you’re missing?”

“I’ll give it sixteen hours at most. By then, Elias would have resurrected, and the first thing he’ll do is take stock of his command.”

“Hmm. And what will Elias do then?”

“Report it up the chain,” Tosh replied immediately. “After which all the passcodes will be changed, and a sector-wide alert will be issued for my capture and questioning.”

I grimaced. For Tosh to be so certain of Elias’ reaction could only mean it was established procedure. And that meant… “I take it this happened before?”

“More than once,” Tosh answered unhappily, “which is why command is so pedantic about locating missing soldiers. They don’t want a repeat of previous… episodes.”

“Well, then, I guess we’re on the clock then.” Thinking for a moment, I estimated how much time had passed since the battle with the Lightsworn.

It can’t have been more than three hours ago.

That left us thirteen hours. Thirteen hours in which we had to pierce the Light cordon in the sector and reach the Dark stronghold at the valley’s northern rim. Very doable, I thought.

Assuming we didn’t run into any problems, of course.

Swinging about again, I jumped lightly onto the adjacent tree. “Let’s go,” I called to Tosh. “Time’s a-wastin.”

✵ ✵ ✵

The journey north began pleasantly enough.

With the Lightsworn rogue following close on my heels we dashed from tree to tree, never alighting on the forest floor, and passed unnoticed by the surrounding wildlife. The Light patrols were similarly unenlightened as to our passage.

Using Tosh’s knowledge of their routes—and my own mindsight when the rogue’s knowledge fell short—I deftly wove a path through the roving squad of players. And for the first few hours that was easy enough to do.

But as the day waned and afternoon approached, things changed.

In the intervening time, the Lightsworn patrols had thickened considerably, forcing Tosh and I to slow our advance to a crawl to avoid detection.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you.

…

…

“It would be better to proceed openly from hereon,” Tosh said quietly.

I nodded grimly. No doubt, the rogue was receiving the same notices I was. And if the Game alerts and the increased patrols were anything to go by, we were approaching the Lightsworn camps.

The so-called Cordon of Light.

Muriel’s people had not squandered the advantage their numbers had given them. They’d started their campaign in the sector by erecting a series of camps that stretched the breadth of the valley—from the western mountain range to the eastern one—and as they had pushed the Darksworn farther north, they had tightened their cordon, keeping the Dark players boxed in.

Now, the cordon was a series of ten heavily fortified camps arranged in a half circle around the Awakened Dead’s dungeon portal. And the area between them was thick with patrols.

It was not the patrols that had spurred Tosh’s comment, though.

I was confident my own stealth—and his too, perhaps—was good enough to avoid physical detection. We could sneak past the patrols if we had to. However, it was not just the patrols we had to worry about. According to Tosh, detection wards were strung across the stretches of open forest that lay between the camps. And how we would fare against them… was another matter entirely.

Time to find out what we’re up against.

Raising my right hand, I rubbed it across the side of my helm and looked upon the forest with new eyes.

You have activated a sorcerer’s coif.

You have detected multiple hostile spells!

Luminous lines of magic exploded into sight. They stretched from east to west, crisscrossing the area ahead in a crazy pattern that would make evasion difficult, if not impossible. Narrowing my gaze, I studied some of the individual spell weaves.

The target is the tier 6 ward spell: the all-seeing eye of Light.

The target is the tier 5 ward spell: entangling vine.

The target is the tier 6 ward spell: inverted life sense.

I sighed. Tosh had been wrong, I realized. Or at least not wholly right. The Cordon of Light was awash with more wards than the rogue knew about. The ones I could see were bad enough, but how many more were there that were beyond the ability of the sorcerer’s coif to unmask?

The helm only revealed wards up to tier six, after all. But with Powers at play in the sector, I couldn’t discount the possibility of even higher tiered wards covering the region.

The question now, though, was what to do.

Proceed or retreat.

Which was the wiser course?