B6 Chapter 701: Thornblight, pt. 1 (Patreon)

Draping curtains of green flashed past as Kaius and his team ran at a steady pace. Despite the constant roar of wildlife, he felt comfortable and at ease. They’d travelled through the desert-jungle for closing in on two months now — they knew enough to avoid getting jumped by some territorial swooping knifebeak or a stonecrest sloth. The beasts here were strong, but like Porkchop had said when they first entered, there was an order to places like this. 

It did mean leaving good experience behind, but that would slow them down. They were here for Chips, and he was damn sure that they would be getting more than enough experience anyway.

As they moved, Kaius kept an eye on the long, loping gait of Ianmus. As the least physically inclined member of their team, he set their pace at what he could comfortably sustain for hours. Thankfully, his long legs and Honour-inflated stats meant it was a speed far faster than most mages could achieve, especially with his mobility-focused General Skill.

In the few hours since the Proving had kicked off, there had been more traces of other teams. Not many actual sightings, but the general cacophony of the jungle was occasionally cut through by the distant screech of steel, or warped cries of battlefury. 

They had caught sight of a few groups at a distance, each tracking their own routes through the jungle canopy. No one had yet to be foolish enough to risk the exposed sands below. Most kept a wide berth, except for one. A team of five, headed by two heavily armoured fighters. Kaius had been fully ready for a fight — until the team had strangely backed off once they’d gotten close enough to get a good look at them. He wasn’t quite sure why. He didn’t recognise them, but maybe their reputation really was starting to spread.

Right as they hit a sharp incline on their branchroad, rising higher into the canopy, a thunderous boom rolled through the jungle like a solid wall of sound. It was layered, like a dozen bullwhips being cracked in quick succession, and it was close. Within a few leagues at the most.

More whipcracks followed, one after the other. Sometimes only moments between, other times pausing for full seconds. In those instants of relative quiet, Kaius could just make out the sonorous ring of impacted steel.

He glanced over his shoulder, sharing a look with his team.

“It’s not really our business, is it?” Porkchop asked.

“But it could be a ruin,” Kaius replied.

Porkchop’s ears twitched as he considered that. “It could. Let’s go.”

Adjusting their heading, they rushed towards the source of the noise, leaping across gaps between branches and skittering across thinner limbs that bowed and bounced with their every step. The closer they drew, the louder the whipcracks grew, and Kaius began to hear the yells and shouts of delvers in battle.

Soon enough, they saw the battlegrounds on the sands below. It was a ruin — a surprisingly well-preserved one, surrounded by a half-visible barrier of shimmering gold. Ten stride high walls encapsulated a massive courtyard, each thick enough that Porkchop could have comfortably walked their battlements. Sand piled high enough at the edges one could have simply walked up to the ramparts, but none of the pink dunes had transgressed that stone barrier. It was as if not even the desert wanted to breach the agelessness of the place. 

Violence had no such compunction. 

At the courtyard’s centre, right next to a squat building with a single gate of pitted steel, six Gold delvers clashed with a bizarre floating creature of living wood and bulging sacks of gas. Two dozen tentacles of braided vines hung from its floating body, cracking through the air to strike at the delvers directly, or spray them with eruptions of cruel, barbed spikes. Every now and then, the creature flared its tentacles wide, spitting blades of wind from a beaked mouth nestled in a blushing pink bloom. 

“Is that a gods’ damned squid?” Ianmus asked in disbelief as they slowed to watch the battle. 

Kaius had never heard of the creature, but judging by its alien features and his friend’s surprise, he assumed it was some ocean-born monstrosity that terrorised the coasts of Mystral. 

Whatever it was, the creature was vicious — either a spirit, or so intrinsically magical it may as well be. The delvers were getting hammered — but it was hard to tell if they needed help, or even wanted it in the first place.

He analysed it.

Thornblight - Level 336

Beast, Magical, Elite, Essence Creature

Hells, it was a beast.

“Dual affinity,” Kenva murmured, eying the cutting blades of energy and thrashing barbs the creature unleashed. “Looks like wind and nature, which isn’t so great for me — but solar should burn right through it.”

That wasn’t bad for Kaius either, his own Stormlash should be moderately effective — as would good old physical trauma. He watched on as the creature dived into a tight spin, all of its tentacles closing into a whirling bash that caught one of the delvers in the chest. The man flew back, clattering across the ground before he rolled to his feet — still somehow holding both of his swords. Kaius winced, even if the man was facing away from them, he didn’t need to see their face to know that it must have hurt. His ribs would have been shattered at the very least, and he could see a thick ooze of blood seeping through the man’s cuirass.

“That isn’t good,” Porkchop said. “Maybe we should jump in?”

“I’m not sure,” Kaius replied. “They could react badly, and the surprise might get them killed. We do need Chips, though. Let’s get closer for now.”

He stilled a moment later as the swordsman's blood started to flow and morph unnaturally. In a single, fluid motion the man raked his jagged blades against his own naked forearms. The fresh wounds fed his skill — until he was garbed in an armour of blood, and his weapons shone a bright carmine. He dashed in, rotating around the creature as the two other frontliners, a man with a spear and a man with a massive greatshield, held the creature’s attention. Finally, Kaius saw his face.

“Gods’ scorn, that’s Ivar!” he blurted, eyes wide.

“Shit, you’re right,” Kenva cursed. “Let’s go.”

They burst into motion, no longer cautious of spending less stamina than their natural regeneration. Leaves burst into mulch as they shredded right through banks, gouging holes in the bark beneath their feet in their haste. 

Every stride of their flight, Kaius kept a close eye on the engagement in the ruin. Now that he was looking for it, he realised he recognised two others in the group of six, though one only by reputation.

Of the three in the backline, one was a mage in a black dress, with closely shorn brown hair and a staff of black wood with bone inlay. She fit the description of Morigan Wispshine perfectly, a Gold mage he knew operated out of the Duchy of Flowers, but hadn’t passed through Baanswell during his team’s time there. 

Morigan danced through the courtyard, weaving a potent spell while mana pulsed through her feet, flitting her through a storm of wooden javelins. It was an impressive display of focus, her brow furrowed and tight. Her spell reached a crescendo, and she flicked her staff towards the floating beast. An eruption of pale-white fire blanketed the creature in ethereal heat, every ember sticking to the thornblight like glue. Yet, the wooden body did not catch, instead Kaius could see the flames feeding off the energy within it. 

The thornblight screeched, thrashing its tentacles in a frenzy as Ivar and the spear-wielder used the opening to attack its main body. It ignored them — four tentacles whipping towards Morigan with a loud crack.

The final front-liner, the other Kaius recognised, burst away from the two rangers he’d been guarding with his greatshield hefted and ready. The thing was immense, closer to a slab of steel the size of a door than any normal shield. Dorian the Sturdy was someone he’d seen in Baanswell, though only in the final weeks before the gate had been discovered. Usually he was sitting near Ivar quietly, a calm giant of a man.

That calm was nowhere to be seen. Dorian slammed his shield into the stone courtyard, shattering the stone as he braced. Each of the four tentacle strike smashed into his shield with the ringing peal of a bell — explaining the sound they’d first heard. With each impact, the shield shone with a silvery glow.

Undeterred, the thornblight switched its attention to the now-undefended archers and unleashed a spray of vicious needles. The man and woman scattered — but the woman was a hair too slow. She screamed, three dagger-length barbs ripping through her side.

Dorian roared in fury and lunged. Hurtling through the air like a living missile, he smashed the creature with his shield. The power within it detonated, flinging the creature back. 

It gave the team a moment to breathe, and the archers returned fire. Two arrows slammed home, one moving so fast it punched through the creature's body, while the other burned like a comet, cratering a section of the creature's flesh.

It barely seemed to notice. The team was seasoned and powerful, but the fight wasn’t easy. As Kaius desperately raced closer, he watched the wounds pile on each of the delvers, while the thornblight itself recovered with a hydra’s persistence. Green mana flared through its body, dispersing Morigan’s witchfire, followed by a piercing shriek that rocked the delvers like a physical blow. Six whipping tentacles smashed Dorian to the ground, while the spear-wielder was pinned by a storm of windblades that forced him to dance back, and Ivar was lashed by ripping spines. 

“We’re jumping in,” Kaius said resolutely. Maybe the team could handle it, maybe they couldn’t — but he’d drunk and fought with Ivar, and he wouldn’t just let him deal with a horror like that alone. Not when the creature had yet to even tap into its essence.

“What’s our plan?” Ianmus asked. The mage had already woven his healing keyseal, and was now working on his new Keyseal of the Mountain Cracker.

Kaius soaked in the field, his mind racing. Even if the creature was some sort of beast, it was magical enough that its body was close to a spirit’s. It healed well, and it had absurd reach and mobility — but its body seemed vulnerable. Every time the team below hit its main body hard, the creature had reacted almost too violently.

“We attack from above! If we can bring it to the ground, it’ll have less room to use its whips, and it’ll be all the easier for us to strike it.”

“Want me to jump on it?” Porkchop asked, blatantly eager.

“I do; I’ll use Shunt to hit it faster, and then you can squash it flat.”

“By the Matriarchs, yes!”

Kaius just grinned, a familiar heat roaring through him at his brother’s enthusiasm. With his armour on, Porkchop had enough mass he might just well punch through the creature in one fell swoop.

“Ianmus and I will stay up here!” Kenva replied. “We’ll be less exposed, and it gives us an easy angle on the thing!”

Kaius nodded cautiously. “Just be ready to jump! We don’t know who else heard this battle, and I don’t want the two of you getting snuck up on.”

Both of them nodded.

Soon, all four of them were standing at the edge of a branch road, right above the battle. In moments, one of the archers let out a shout of alarm.

“Delvers above!”

All of them glanced up. Ivar let out a laugh, before he was forced to cut through a spiny javelin that raced for his chest.

“Kaius!” he yelled. “Planning on doing something stupid?”

Kaius just pointed his sword to the thornblight below, not wanting to give away their position to the beast. Behind him, Kenva drew an arrow and started channeling stamina into Howl of the Northwind. 

Ivar laughed, while the rest of his team shot them odd looks.

“Golden Immolation is ready,” Ianmus murmured, gripping his staff with both hands. Mana was already churning through his other keyseal as golden drops of healing energy splashed over the team below. 

“Hit it now, we’ll jump when you do.”

“Aim for the bush monster!” Porkchop joked with a growl, the sound warping through his demonic-faced helm.

Golden fire erupted, swallowing the thornblight as it screamed. 

Kaius jumped, his sword held high and its point facing down. Shunt exploded once, then four more times, until he moved fast enough the air felt almost like water. Crimson Investiture shone within his crystal blade, its edge swallowed by liquid Dissolution. 

He braced himself, staring at the rapidly growing back of his burning target. This was probably going to break his legs.