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Windscourge, enraged after his illegal and unfair foreclosure
-oOo- Chapter 64-oOo-
Fluffy, white clouds parted, providing her a view of the spindly river eight kilometers below. The watercourse wound through a green vale, hidden beneath a canopy of trees. The Snake River looked very different from her current height than it had from below. Still, it conjured memories. Sylvia had traced this path with Emily, so many years prior. Two weak little witches daring to face the mighty nether beast who called that vale home.
In a moment of whimsy, Sylvia wondered what Slyde was doing down there.
Did revenge run through the snake’s cold-blooded veins? Was Slyde haunted by dreams of cruel witches using wicked magic to control his mind? Or maybe, his impression was different. Perhaps the snake, too, held fond memories of slithering through his territory, a pair of beauties at his side always ready to furnish him with tasty treats.
One of these days, Sylvia really ought to pop in and say hello.
“Where flies the Windscourge?” a gruff voice interrupted.
The silver-haired girl raised a finger, sharing a blue screen with Henry Taylor.
They were on the Cumulus. Esmeralda stood on the deck, exchanging words with one of the ladies from the Sky Scouts. Three teams from the Viridian Blades were here as well, some riding on the backs of their falcons. The Cumulus was one of three airships produced by ‘Swift Ships’, a newly formed industrial conglomerate thrown together from multiple interests. Their first flyt was in Starlight. For now, it earned its keep by carrying lumber to the city from the camp on the eastern cape.
Even so, the mere presence of an airship was transformative. Already, there were multiple parties negotiating contracts for the ship’s use. Starlight had few roads and a dense wilderness. There were many valuable resources hidden in the jungles and mountains. An airship would solve the problem of transport.
This was to Sylvia’s expectations. When new technology was introduced, it often created orthogonal markets.
The other two ships, the Cumulus and the Stratus, had been entirely assembled in Axis. Alas, the Stratus had already met its doom. Three weeks ago, it’d been torn asunder by Windscourge. It was that very nether beast who was shown on Sylvia’s screen. The video captured by her prying eye didn’t do the titan justice. From head to tail, the nether beast was eighteen meters long and his wingspan could cover the Cumulus from bow to stern.
But Windscourge’s attributes told the tale better.
Windscourge – Three Sisters Roc [C-VI/Low]
Type: Nether BeastLv: 1203Hp/Mp: 19,950 / 2,610Atk/Def: 3,620 / 300Celerity: 230%
Abilities:Giant (55% SR), Preternatural Grace, Terror Talons, Lord of the Windroost, Ki Control
“Right now, he’s circling 12 kilometers above,” Sylvia answered. “He’s been keeping an eye on us for the last ten minutes. He’s waiting until we get closer to his nest, that way he can crush us while our ship is tangled with his rocs.”
Henry grunted, eyes as blue as the sky gazing over the bow to the island beyond. Thin clouds sheltered the isle, hiding most of its breadth. But all the gamers here could see it easy enough on their minimap.
“Can you get rid of him like you did before?” the lanky barbarian questioned.
“I made my move a few minutes ago,” Sylvia said blandly.
With subtle motions, Sylvia’s fingers completed a series of seals. One hundred and seventy-three runes were woven into the greater sigil, Virlithmalt. Into this cauldron, the asteri poured the element blood. The curse wiggled like a worm, eager and hungry.
Only to vanish from Sylvia’s hand. Realm magic sparked. An instant later, on her blue screen, the red figure was briefly seen. Then Sylvia’s worm of rot slithered into Windscourge’s back, but only after being pulled half-a-dozen meters along the titan’s length by the roaring wind.
The silver-haired witch grinned.
Rune gate was a spell she had created. One of several. Rather than transport people or objects, rune gate teleported magic. Every spell had a range limit. Most of them could only be used at a short distance. Yvonne’s curse, worms of rot for instance, could only travel ten or so meters when subtly cast.
Which severely limited the spell’s strategic worth.
But not now. With this new, realm-based meta-magic Sylvia could add eighteen kilometers to its ten meters of range.
Of course, rune gate wasn’t without its flaws. To use it, she had to cast two spells instead of one. This meant Sylvia had to release an additional one hundred and ninety-two runes plus a bit of mana as overhead. Also, the accuracy left something to be desired. But that problem was easily solved with Sylvia’s prying eye.
Windscourge twitched.
Sylvia was too far to sense the falcon’s ki roil, but she could feel it indirectly through feedback of intent. Life force caught her latest curse in its grip, grinding it into destruction. With one noticed, Windscourge’s mind turned inward, scouring his flesh for infiltrators. A second worm was pried out. The beast spat the spell out through his beak.
“Kiao!”
Windscourge let loose a shrill cry, his turn tightening. Through her prying eye, Sylvia could see the nether beast’s infuriated glare.
“Tch!” Sylvia sounded, watching the falcon warily. She relaxed after a moment, when the beast retained its glide.
Thankfully, three curses still lingered undetected. Every second her worms of rot incubated in the roc’s body, they absorbed a bit of blood. As they did, they blended into the flesh deeper and deeper, until they were all but indistinguishable from Windscourge’s essence.
Yvonne’s magic was insidious.
Henry shot her a glance.
“Windscourge noticed me,” Sylvia explained.
“That is of little surprise,” Emmy commented, returning to her fiancée’s side. “Experience is a grand teacher and nether beasts are able students. But do not fear, we shall deal with Windscourge regardless. Your men should focus on the ordinary beasts.”
This was Operation Skyneedle.
The objective? To establish a guardian dungeon in the Three Sisters Archipelago. Once built, the dungeon would become a knife pinning down the skies north of Axis. A flood of green named monsters will fill the air, driving away their natural competitors. This would offer safer passage to all the players and airships traveling through the region.
Not that there was much traffic now. A flyt couldn’t safely cross the wind gap between Starlight and Pyrinas. For this, they’d need a streamer. And preferably, a port off Pyrinas’s northern shore so most the distance could be covered by cheaper ships.
In the nearer term, the plan was to establish a base starting with the Windroost. From there, the Sky Scouts would spread out, mapping the high islands. Their goal being the Little Sister, the smallest and lowest flying of the Three Sisters hanging over Pyrinas. Sylvia even planned to add a planar gate. Per the quest Gateway Express, this node would cover the northern octet of Pyrinas.
As a final benefit, the guardian dungeon would rent roc mounts to the players.
Only the Devil could’ve dreamed of something so vile. Mounts? Who wanted an inferior product like that? All gamers should ride brooms! Brooms were better than birds. A broom can fit in the soul. Could a three sisters roc do that?
She didn’t think so.
Luckily, Swift Brooms was already in the process of expanding its product line. Otherwise, Lucifer’s evil plot might have undermined her righteous capitalism.
“We know our duty, Mayor Vallenfelt,” Henry accepted. “And we appreciate your assistance. Both of your assistance.”
“It’s only suitable that we are here, Mr. Taylor,” Esmeralda replied lightly. Her smile turned impish as she turned to the silver-haired girl. “After Sylvia’s little bungle.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Sylvia sounded, deadpan.
After the Stratus had been destroyed, Sylvia had joined the mission to deal with the nether beast. Things had gone just about perfect, with her cursing Windscourge seven times before he became aware of her actions. With this, she’d all but killed the titanic roc in one strike.
Almost, however, wasn’t good enough. Before Sylvia could finish him, the raging nether beast had gotten his revenge, splitting the Cumulus nearly in half.
Thus, they’d been forced to bring the Cumulus back to Viridian City. The time used on repairs had given Windscourge the chance to resurrect.
“Rocs off the bow!” Carter shouted. The warrior stood behind the helm, wheel in hand.
The thin, white shroud around the floating island parted. The isle was three kilometers across with two tall hills at the center, their heights approaching that of a mountain. Dozens of dark silhouettes circled the peaks. Others were hidden in the clouds or blue skies above.
There were more than a hundred of them. And, no doubt, there were twice as many falcons hidden among the rocks.
“At arms!” Henry shouted. “Everyone, use your eyes to tag the targets. Carter, take us to that island and set us low. Let the land shield our underside.”
At his order, men and women jumped. Eight rushed for the Cumulus’s four ballistas. Another group took off on brooms, most from Piper’s Sky Scouts. These players joined the two wedge shaped wings already flying off the airship’s starboard and port: three sister’s rocs with gamers on the back, Riley Smith among them. The falcons had been released fifteen minutes earlier from the hangar doors cut into the Cumulus’s hold.
Sylvia unwound resonant tear, letting the pendulum dangle. Track Threats: Three Sister Roc. Causality pulsed, pinging off birds visible and hidden. With her tool, the radius of the spell expanded, her reach just short of five kilometers. The magic even penetrated partially through the cliffs and crooks of the island, highlighting phantasmal beasts in red.
This data was then shared by the System’s network, reflected through the System’s extremely popular Party Interface and into Henry’s Raid Party Network. Thereafter, it was fed to the gamers who rapidly picked targets of priority from the hundreds of rocs highlighted.
Th-th-thum. Th-thum.
Crackling javelins sprang from giant bows, bolts streaking across azure sky. Thunder shot. By convention, ballista were handled by teams of three: a shooter, a driver, and a loader. To save on manpower, Henry had dumped the latter. It remained to be seen if Tier III players could fill the gap.
“Clear the high-fliers first!” Henry roared, directing the fire.
On a proper warship, ballistas would be mounted on tilting platforms. This would let the bow fire straight up or straight down. The Cumulus was a flyt. The bows could only sway up or down by forty or so degrees. To hit the rocs above them, the shooters had to rely on the curved paths of their bolts.
These gunners weren’t the only ones to enter the fray. A man dressed in samurai armor took the sky, a pair of metal wings springing from his back. Another jumped off the ship’s bow, dressed in a stylish hakama. On this ronin wannabe’s head was a broad, conical hat. Under his wooden sandals, pale, pink petals fluttered.
Sylvia knew both men, Joshua Sanchez and Tobi Takahashi. They were Henry Taylor’s lieutenants, each with a squad of gamers beneath them.
“You’re actually using that art,” Tobi, the man in samurai armor, sneered while looking back. “Are you gay?”
Wing tools were an alternative to brooms. Whereas brooms consumed mana, wings were martial equipment that fed off ki. For warrior classes, wings were the superior item. But that wouldn’t stop Swift Brooms from disparaging their existence. Freedom Wings was her most successful competitor, and Sylvia wanted them to experience failure and despair.
How dare they! The flying tool market belonged to her. Can’t a kind and caring magical girl run her merciless monopoly in peace?
“You call it gay,” Joshua replied, hakama fluttering in the wind. The suave man’s katana hissed from its sheath. “I call it, bishonen.”
The ronin figure pushed off air in an explosive burst, the waltz of flowers smoothly blending into the faster gale pinion art.
“Mmm,” Emmy hummed furiously.
“Weebs,” Sylvia agreed with a disdainful tone, her nose held high.
Esmeralda’s gorgeous eyes transformed into a cold glower. The silver-haired witch returned a smirk. Sylvia knew all too well Emmy’s actual complaint.
“Every lady must cultivate a unique style,” Emmy lectured. “To see him use the waltz is like witnessing a man steal a dress I designed for you. It’s infuriating.”
“Steal? I think the word you're looking for, is ‘profane’,” Sylvia commented, deadpan.
Emmy did not deign Sylvia’s teasing with a response.
Though she had complained, Esmeralda knew well her words were useless. The waltz of flowers was one of five movement arts in the Cloud Island Wilderness that allowed flight. Naturally, there would be many gamers who learned it.
Not that the waltz was the most popular of the bunch.
“Kiao-iiao-iaoo.”
Windscourge’s cry was a shrill warble, its resonant tone carrying over impossible distance. The rocs gliding over the isle trembled. Then, all at once, a hundred shadows burst from the hills. But Sylvia didn’t have time for these minor threats, because far, far above the great falcon tilted.
“Windscourge inbound!” she roared, her left hand suddenly flashing through a series of seals.
When an ordinary roc dove, they were akin to a missile. Windscourge was three times faster. The beat of the falcon’s wings and the ripple of his ki only added to his speed. The nether beast accelerated, his dive reaching velocities only seen in modern fighter jets.
If this were the material universe, the air itself would crack as the bird went supersonic. The netherworld had no such concept. Few ideas so foreign to life were successfully imprinted into the logic of the world.
But twelve kilometers was not a short distance. Sylvia had plenty of time.
Thunk.
The steel butt of her staff, Chrome Tempest, knocked on the deck. One hundred and thirty-five runes sank into the ship beneath her. Influenced by the metal element, the wooden beams in a ten-meter radius took on a metallic sheen. This was mere preparation, her magic laid the foundation for the iron fortress that would follow.
With her staff sucked dry, Sylvia casually erected a pair of barrier frames before throwing a glacial scale over the top. “■-■-, ■-■-, ■-■-.” Her hand, however, didn’t stop moving. Ether poured from her lightning palace in the form of fire. The energy flowed into her staff, the rod transmuting the provided energy into metal. Then, in turn, ether flowed from her ice place into her lightning palace, keeping the internal pools balanced.
Normally, it took a little over two seconds to fill Chrome Tempest to the brim. With Sylvia pumping ether, she could cut this frame to a third.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Five spells were cast over four seconds. Iron plates grew from the foundation, reinforcing the ship’s hull. Port and starboard sides were armored, a flattened ‘room’ from her fortress covering bow then stern. Last, Sylvia conjured a metal grating overhead. Thick beams left wide gaps, small enough a plunging roc would struggle to fly in or out, but sufficiently wide the gamers wouldn’t see them as obstacles.
Windscourge was fifteen seconds away. Depending on the situation, that could be an instant or an eternity.
The Cumulus lumbered forward, sails snapping in the wind. The sails of an airship were more than simple sheets of cloth. They were magical structures woven with runes. Ether was caught by the masts then fed into the material, where it was transformed into the wind which drove the ship forward.
And this was the most basic design. Good sails made use of space, distorting breadth and direction, so the sheets could capture the natural flows better and from wider angles.
Shrill cries filled the sky.
The first rocs to arrive were those flying well above. The huge beasts transformed into streaks of white feathers. Lightning cracked. Ballista bolts flew in tandem, creating a scintillating display. Hunters let loose arrows from their bows, their projectiles shrouded in shadow or elemental energies according to each gamer’s class. A druid added spells of life to the fray, buffing players and mounts as needed.
The two forces crashed. Gamers scattered, evading plunging beasts. Rocs spread their wings, their dives redirected into fast glides. As the falcons slowed, the melee classes took action. The samurai slid through the air, his spear piercing through a roc’s neck. Joshua, the ronin figure, smoothly switched from gale pinion back to the waltz of flowers. His katana swept through air, conjuring a slithering blade of wind.
A roc split in half, its heart cut effortlessly.
"You heard it too, didn't you?” Joshua quoted, posing coolly. “The voice of the wind."
…
Weeb.
Also, how many manifestation arts did this freak know? Was Joshua one of those banana muffins for whom manifestation arts just clicked?
If so, Sylvia hated him already.
“Is there anyone here that even knows what trashy anime that’s from?” The samurai shouted, metal wings sending him flying back.
“I don’t want to hear scorn from a man in samurai armor, Tobi,” Joshua scoffed. He flicked his katana before dashing forward, pursuing a roc flying close to another gamer.
“I’m Japanese American!” Tobi, the samurai, roared back. “This armor is part of my heritage!”
Esmeralda finished a chant. Wood element energy blended into the ship. Emmy’s nebulous eyes studied the fight. The lady pointed White Heaven toward a dense flock. Blue light flashed from the staff’s tip. A twisting, turning wire streaked through the sky, skewering a dozen birds on its length.
“All structures are invincible,” Sylvia intoned.
She raised her staff with divine reverence then slammed it into the deck. Thunk. With fourteen gestures, the witch had woven a sigil from four hundred and ninety runes. The glyph was Shalquaq, a pure rune of the law element meaning: ‘as I declare’. Into this shape was poured dense mana from the element law.
Usually, Sylvia refrained from chaos magic. The ethers of chaos were hard to gather in the starry void, much less deep in the planar core. As a result, chaos magics were painfully expensive when compared to their primordial cousins.
Not even the discount provided by Sylvia’s true cosmic core could change this fact.
But today, Sylvia felt free to splurge.
The asteri’s mana flowed through a pair of bottles. In each was fifty droms of volatile, elemental dust. Ethers of space and causality were drawn through glass valves, energy catalyzed into law by Sylvia’s core. Her left hand was a blur, each gesture adding to a chain of silvery sigils. Impelled by her mana and intent, the string wove itself into a rune.
And that rune was then smelted by the element law. Once visible only to her pure starlight eyes, the complex knot now shined with golden light. The world resonated with her power.
“Ranged attacks are effective.”
Words spoken became truth. A wave swept over an area two hundred meters in radius. Silently, subtly, the logic of the world was rewritten.
Th-thum. Th-th-thum.
Ballista bolts flew from their strings, the gunners having switched to the cheaper bare shot as the rocs drew close. Javelins subtly shifted. The skies surrounding were no longer a neutral party. Instead, they impelled onto each spear a little more velocity. They aided the arrows in their flight, making their homing curve tighter and the trajectories more true. Then, when the bolts landed, the heads dug just a bit deeper.
This was the power of law.
The element law altered the rules of the world. Its natural tendency, therefore, was to affect everyone. This was especially true of the spell edict, a magic inspired from Taranis’s heart. Where the hobgoblin had been able to show a degree of discrimination, Sylvia’s spell had no such privilege.
But, as a wise governor, Sylvia had long embraced the immortal spirit of Anatole France. ‘The law, in its majestic equality, forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets, and to steal their bread.’ And likewise, how could any of these rocs deny her magnanimity when Sylvia’s so generously buffed the projectiles cast by gamers and falcons alike?
Were they not thankful?
They should be thankful.
“KIAO!”
The titan’s cry pierced the world. Windscourge was a swelling dot in the azure. She gazed up. From Sylvia’s perspective, the nether beast seemed to grow faster with every passing second. An optical illusion cast by the colossal falcon’s approach.
“The speed limit is 150 kilometers an hour,” Sylvia commanded, teeth grit.
Chrome Tempest cracked against the Cumulus’s deck, unleashing a pulse of magic. Rocs and brooms slowed slightly, a minor advantage to the gunners on the ship’s deck and swordsmen in the air. The real target was the nether beast still plunging through the sky above.
He was in range. Sylvia pointed her staff.
“■■! ■■, ■■!”
Electricity crawled along the metal shaft of Chrome Tempest. B-b-bang! Air cracked as brilliant, jagged lances tore through the blue. The colossal roc’s wings snapped. Windscourge flickered through the air, his titanic form leaving after images as he took two, sudden, right angle turns.
The shift in momentum exceeded the spell’s correction. All three lightning lances missed.
But Esmeralda’s chain lightning was far more able.
Ba-raa-aack!
A bright, blue string twisted in the air, doubling back even as Windscourge evaded. The nether beast was fast. Lightning was faster. The bolt crashed into the bird’s right wing. Sparks rolled over the titan’s feathers. The falcon barely shuddered.
Sugar!
Sylvia cursed internally. The nether beast’s armor art provided lightning resistance. Between Windscourge’s size and speed, most primordial magics would be useless.
The titan’s talons spread wide. As the falcon closed, it turned into a streak.
From a large enough distance, an airplane would crawl through the sky. Only when Windscourge was close, could his speed be properly captured. The nether beast seemed to vanish, his motion pausing only briefly at the edge of her edict, law forcing him to a sudden slow.
If one could call a dive of mach one instead of mach two slow.
CLUNG!
The colossal nether beast flickered at the last instant. It was only thanks to Sylvia’s agility and wit that she had a chance to admire Windscourge’s art, which turned his starboard feint into a port side strike.
The Cumulus bucked. The ship rolled, hull tilting twenty degrees. Out of instinct, Sylvia gripped the deck with the waltz of flowers. Most of the gamers held their ground. One, however, made a mistake. The shock threw the man twenty meters into the sky.
Screaming, the player plunged overboard.
Shk. Shk. Shk.
Emmy caught him, ruining a perfect advertisement with a linked rope of levitation. Oh, well. Sylvia would just edit that part out. She could see the images playing in her mind already. Stella Iecit, never leave home without it!
While Esmeralda reeled the player in, the silver-haired witch quickly took stock of the damage.
Five bars from Sylvia’s iron grate had been sheared straight through. One of the ballistas had been struck by Windscourge’s rear talon, frame reduced to splinters. The rail beside was gouged out and the metal plate beneath torn. Mana and intent was all that kept the figment from dissolving into ether.
Not good. No. It was good. With all the spells and reinforcements, Cumulus had held up better than when they’d met Windscourge last. But this weakness had to be plugged pronto. They couldn’t risk the ship.
“■-■-■- ■ – ”
Without hesitation, Sylvia blurred into a chant. Her words were slowed by half as the asteri’s hand flashed through a chain of seals. Ether was pulled from her staff, magic sinking into the ship’s hull. Onto her first foundation was stacked a second. Fortress of iron allowed no more than five rooms to be added to a single framework. The first’s quota was already consumed.
Windscourge, however, was not still throughout this.
“KIAO!” CRACK!
The ship shuddered. A massive falcon rose in a blur. Windscourge had transformed his sharp dive into a horizontal twist, then a near sonic ascent. With mighty talons, the titanic falcon grasped the ship’s starboard mast. Thick wood snapped in an instant, the great roc’s victorious cry resounding.
For a frozen moment, Sylvia captured his visage. Windscourge’s broad wings were spread wide, the limbs curved as though to wrap the entire Cumulus in their embrace. Cords snapped, rope shooting back as the beast soared fifty meters into air.
The Cumulus slewed a bit further. This time, no screaming gamer was thrown overboard.
“Acceleration beyond 2g is forbidden!”
Sylvia roared the words, releasing her prepared law before Windscourge could escape. Instead of the ship, her magic attached the nether beast itself. The colossal roc beat his wings. The titan’s velocity swung toward the ship’s stern. But the motion was not as fast as before.
The speed imparted by the nether beast’s dive was waning. Her law would ensure it waned faster.
Sylvia wasn’t the only witch casting.
“ – ■■!”
Esmeralda’s staff completed a beautiful swirl. Gray surged from the witch, a twinkling shroud of thin, transparent mist swallowed the world. It took only seconds for the spell to cover ship and sky.
Shapes shifted within the fog, gray echoes of ordinary rocs. With vicious abandon, a hundred illusions lunged at their living cousins.
The flock was thrown into sudden chaos.
Moments before, the gamers had been on the verge of collapse. Momentum switched in an instant. Now it was the players who had the upper hand, their numbers taking murderous advantage of the phantasmal beasts' distraction.
Her lovely voice like a song, Esmeralda chanted her spell twice more.
“■■■ ■■, ■■■ ■■.”
The cover of cool mist spread further, reaching a full three hundred meter radius. The cloud followed gently behind their ship, traveling at half the Cumulus’s sluggish pace.
Illusion was not one monolithic aspect. Instead, it was born of multiple energies and origins. Simulacrum merged ice and void to add false reality to shapes carved from snow. A mix of void, fire, and lightning, on the other hand, could create all manner of complex images according to the caster’s will.
Emmy’s mist of deception came from a different root. The spell used the aspect, mirage. A mirage was an amalgamation of water and psychic, occasionally spiced with a side of ice. These illusions didn’t just distort light. They twisted the mind, making the shadows conjured feel utterly real.
But only to those the caster wished to affect.
Psychic magic was highly effective against phantasms. Nether beasts were also vulnerable. Against illusions, a titanic body offered no advantage. This was a war of mind against magic. Flesh played no role.
So it was no surprise when Windscourge briefly fell victim.
Startled by the gray illusions, Windscourge’s wings beat. The falcon flitted around a horde of misty shapes, sharp reprimands springing from his beak. “Kiao, kiao-iao-kao” Emmy’s illusions ignored the roc’s commands, false claws striking the titan’s wings and back. Windscourge flinched at the blows as though they were real.
Almost absently, Sylvia’s fingers formed a final seal. The damaged, front port side plate dissolved into nothing only to be replaced by a clean new sheet.
Her eyes narrowed, mind calculating.
Lightning magic was the undisputed king of aerial combat. But Windscourge’s armor art would disperse most of the power. Sylvia judged, from the System provided hitpoint bar, that she’d need around fifty clean hits to take the beast down.
Which was easier said than done.
Curses were a better bet. The elements of life were a go-to tactic against titans, and Sylvia knew from experience that worms of rot would wreck terrible destruction. However, that curse was already in play. She didn’t dare add another, lest the falcon realize what he’d missed. As for psychic magic? Marionette would work wonders, if the falcon was close. She could even rune gate the frame and threads into place.
But then the threads would break the second after, overstretched by the distance. Especially with Windscourge flitting all over the place.
“Kiao!”
It only took a few moments before Windscourge realized he’d been fooled. Angrily, the titanic roc screeched, his wings stirring a whirlwind. Air turned, thinning Esmeralda’s mist. Casually, she waved her craggy staff again, releasing another puff of gray.
Ah. Right. She had that.
Sylvia’s left hand exploded into motion, blurring through seals so fast it’d make a jounin jealous. A burning catalyst circle formed at Sylvia’s side. The elements earth, fire, and wind were poured into the ring, drawn from her staff and palaces alike.
“– ■■■!”
A stream of calamity mixed with the spell spat from Sylvia’s tongue. Calamity was an advanced, primordial element best captured as an explosion or an eruption.
Chrome Tempest kicked.
Screee-r-Ack!
A searing line pierced through the heavens. The sky screamed as it was split by terrible power. Slowed by her laws and bereft of his dive’s frightening velocity, Windscourge had no chance to react. A meter wide beam plowed straight into the titan’s chest, carrying not only energy but momentum.
Half a second later, Sylvia’s skyrending beam cut off. Windscourge flailed in the air, trying to right himself after having been thrown.
Only for the beam to be replaced by another.
“■■ ■■■■ ■■■!”
With nine syllables, the silver-haired witch spun two hundred and ninety-eight runes. With her wit and finesse, Sylvia’s second beam was primed even before the first finished. With hardly a gap between, another searing plasma streak ripped the sky apart.
Screee-r-Ack!
This time, Windscourge steadied. The titan’s aura thickened, ki dispersing the spell’s force. Windscourge dove, the smoldering scar two-thirds as deep. Relentless, the burning lance gave chase following the bird’s descent. The catalyst circle burned with hellish fire. Ether flowed, her staff near empty.
Nevertheless, Sylvia cast her spell a third time.
“■■ ■■■■ ■■■!”
Sylvia’s skyrending beam sliced through sky like a divine sword. Power half expended, the witch cut her magic off. The mighty roc had slipped beneath the Cumulus.
“KIAO!!!”
Windscourge’s voice sounded. Whoosh. The titan ascended on the ship’s port. Giant eyes glared down at the vile insects in incandescent rage. Blackened pits had been cut into the nether beast’s wings and chest.
The titanic, three sister roc raised a clawed foot. Each of Windscourge’s talons exceeded one and a half meters. The halo of ki surrounding expanded them to twice again larger. Windscourge’s foot slammed down, grasping the damaged metal grating erected as part of Sylvia’s fortress of iron.
The falcon squeezed.
Ree-crack!
The metal bars bent then shattered. Figment broken, the spell dissolved into ether. Windscourge’s wings made a half beat, shifting his titanic bulk. Sylvia scurried. With exaggerated motion, the raging roc’s talons crashed down on top of her.
“■■■!”
Petals fluttered beneath her feet, ethers of water pouring from her palace. Liquid swirled into existence around her even as her glacial scale slid into place above. Chi-Plash! It didn’t last a second. Ice shattered like glass, sharp toes carving through Sylvia’s watery defense.
BANG!
The whole ship shuddered, deck boards splintering beneath the falcon’s foot. Sylvia skittered back, her motion as much a product of a dodge as the impulse imparted by the giant roc’s strike.
Angry eyes glared. Windscourge raised his beak.
Sylvia was faster. The asteri’s middle finger skipped across her thumb. Snap! The sharp sound loosed eighteen runes. Magic resonated, triggering the curses buried within the titan’s chest. Thousands of worms burst out, feasting on the falcon’s flesh.
Windscourge staggered in shock.
Sylvia didn’t miss her chance.
“■■■■ ■■!”
Chrome Tempest slashed through the air, a metallic chain flying from its tip. The living cord swept around Windscourge’s left leg before whipping up and over the bird’s colossal chest. With only half its length used, the chain continued its serpentine dance, circling the falcon’s left wing thrice.
Clink.
Then the joints interlocked, the chain was sealed wherever it crossed. Still, the spell wasn’t done. Clink, clink, clink. The metal shackles began to tighten, pulling as though they were driven by a ratchet.
“Kiao!”
Tightening force startled Windscourge from his daze. With a wild shriek, the titanic roc thrashed. The nether beast’s right wing swung, crashing into the Cumulus’s top side mast. Wood creaked and cracked. The eighteen meter tall falcon stumbled, beams turning into splinters under his taloned feet.
A few, pale worms slithered between Windscourge’s feathers before diving back into his flesh.
“■■■■ ■.”
Sylvia gave no quarter.
Before the colossal falcon could recover, she added another chain to the first. This wasn’t steel shackle as cast by her senior sister. This was a higher level variant Sylvia had named binding chains. Longer. Stronger. Tougher. In addition to its outward strength, every binding chain held within in it two laws. One, an aspect that made the links inescapable. The other, a unique debuff based on the module.
The chains Sylvia had wrapped Windscourge in were immobilizing and weakening.
Ki surged inside the roc. The worms crawling through his skin stilled. A massive, hate filled eye glared down. Windscourge’s rage was like churning magma. Furious and controlled, the titanic falcon lowered his head grasping links of iron with his beak.
A glacial chill washed over Sylvia’s back, reminding her that she wasn’t the only witch aboard this ship.
Dozens of beautiful, pale blue butterflies fluttered through the sky. Each wing was like a snowflake. They moved with gentle grace, light elegance belying their swiftness. One by one, the insects landed. When they touched, the butterflies melted into motes.
Sparks that carried a terrible, arctic chill. Frost spread along Windscourge’s feathers before piercing into the skin beneath. The cold captured even the mystical, crystals of numbing ice forming in the flow of the nether beast’s ki.
Chink.
The raging roc’s beak cleaved straight through Sylvia’s immobilizing chain. Steel links unraveled, the figment’s form dissolving into mist. Apple crumb cake! She’d underestimated the sheer power of a Class VI nether beast. Burning pure mana, Sylvia rushed a third chain into place while Esmeralda’s magic did its work.
“■■■■ ■■.”
An imprisoning chain snapped around the Windscourge’s legs before stabbing deep into the damaged deck. Having hardly noticed, the nether beast spread his mighty wings, straining against the chains Sylvia had unleashed. Ree! Metal stretched, opening a gap. With a twist, Windscourge gripped it with his jaws.
Chink! Just like that, two chains were rendered down to one.
The titan beat his wings, leaping high into the sky. Only to jerk to a stop. Sylvia’s imprisoning chain didn’t just pin the colossal falcon to the boat physically but also, conceptually.
Escape delayed, butterflies piled onto the nether beast. The swarm was continuous, summoned endlessly from a frigid circle drawn by Esmeralda. The emerald-haired woman gestured. Runes sank into the titanic roc bearing a curse unknown.
The speed at which Windscourge froze accelerated.
Whoomp. Whoomp. Deep frost crackled as Windscourge’s wings beat, giant body straining against a chain that looked like a thin thread compared to his bulk. The falcon’s claws fumbled. Then, finally, the roc’s sharp talons gripped metal. Chink. The chain dissolved.
But not before the other gamers struck.
With a great leap, Henry slammed onto the falcon’s back. Wrapped in aura, the barbarian’s zweihander crashed into the roc’s wing. From another direction, the ronin Joshua dove in, his katana cutting a shallow wound across the nether beast’s neck. Th-th-th-thum. Ballistas fired. One gunner was wise enough to use steel shot. Those javelins cut deep into Windscourge’s body. The other bolts bounced uselessly off Windscourge’s feathers.
Lightning crackled at the tip of Sylvia’s staff.
“■-■-■-!”
A brilliant lance smote the titanic roc’s face. Electricity skittered off Windscourge’s aura, power dispersed. The weak blow, however, served to hide the worms of rot conjured by Sylvia’s flickering hand. By the time the falcon’s eye adjusted, the two red curses had slithered into the bird’s body, both flush with blood. She’d need no more than five seconds to complete their incubation.
All throughout, beautiful butterflies continued their flutter, lightly touching the colossal bird.
“KIAO!”
Windscourge’s aura was like an explosion. With his shriek came a whirlwind. Gamers were cast about like bowling pins. The giant falcon’s wings beat. Windscourge soared thirty meters into the sky. Compared to before, the nether beast’s movements were sluggish. Sylvia could hear the ice crackling with every motion. Not just frost clinging to the roc’s frozen feathers. The crystals in Windscourge’s ki were cracking too.
How terrible. The poor bird looked cold. Since Sylvia was a kindly lady, she generously chose to warm him up.
“■■ ■■■■ ■■■,” the witch pronounced.
Screee-r-Ack!
A beam of searing plasma tore into Windscourge’s neck, sending the nether beast careening twenty meters back. Having learned from prior experience, the falcon dove the next instant. The white feathered roc’s titanic form vanished behind the Cumulus’s starboard stern.
“Focus on the phantasms!” Henry roared, directing the scattered gamers. The blue-eyed barbarian turned to the silver-haired witch. “Where is he?”
“Under the – ■■ – island” Sylvia answered. The witch swayed as she spoke, high heels clicking with her whirl. Chrome Tempest swept through the air, casting out an impromptu wind scythe. “Don’t worry. Windscourge can’t leave his nest.”
Thump.
A three sister’s roc hit the deck, bouncing off the ravaged boards. Sylvia’s spell had sheered straight through the phantasm’s right wing. The asteri’s dance had moved her aside, leaving the bird to slide past her. Remorseless, Henry raised his zweihander then drove it through the stunned falcon’s chest.
The Cumulus’s bow had pierced the edge of Emmy’s mist. Ahead lay the floating isle, the cliff side and grassy surface only a couple hundred meters away. Fierce combat roared around them. Mages unleashed spells, lightning bolts streaking through the air. Swordsmen and hunters aimed for closer targets, turning the sky into a slaughter.
Of the horde of hundreds, only a few score of phantasms remained.
The gamers had been likewise devastated.
Half of their aerial wing was missing, many of the mounts dead along with their rider. Thankfully, all of their beasts had soul stones, the cores safe inside the Cumulus’s hull. The players on deck fared better, only two of their number missing. Carter remained at the helm, wheel tilted hard to port to offset ship’s rightward pull, a consequence of the missing, lower starboard mast.
Esmeralda gestured, pale blue wings swirled overhead in a gorgeous curtain. A phantasm flew too close. A dozen butterflies touched its feathers. The three sister’s roc froze solid. Now a frigid statue, the falcon plunged past the ship before shattering on the grassy shore.
Henry looked past her. The lanky barbarian had already turned his attention to his Raid Party Network. To feed the System magic, Henry passed his mana through a small, black rectangle. Gamers often used cheap, inefficient tools like this as a convenient means to nature elements like causality, for which most didn’t have easy access.
With the tap of her foot, the silver-haired girl left him behind, flying to her lover on an arc of flowers.
“Butterflies?” Sylvia teased, as she landed beside the emeraldette. The pink-eyed witch’s scythe buzzed through the sky, clearing another two beasts. To lower the burden, Sylvia casually added a second. “■■.”
“A lady must mind her image,” Emmy returned. Her finger twirled, catching another roc in a swirl of blue. “You’d do well to cultivate your own. Those worms? Disgusting.”
“Oh, does your grimoire have some cute curses for me to use?” Sylvia questioned. “Perhaps puppies exploding from my enemy’s chest?”
“Not as of yet,” Esmeralda considered.
“Then, I’ll continue to use this vile magic I took from that hag, Yvonne,” Sylvia shrugged.
The witch raised her left hand. Her fingers snapped. Through her prying eye, Sylvia captured Windscourge’s shudder. She didn’t expect much from her curse. With no immediate threats, the nether beast was free to suppress the worms of rot.
Emmy shook her head. From her palace, she drew thick flows of wood ether.
“Then let’s resolve this little conundrum together. ■■■ ■■■■.”
Esmeralda’s magic sank into the ship. Roots grew from the broken planks, boards merging together. The Cumulus’s deck had been turned into a wreck when Windscourge thrashed about on it. Now, those wounds healed. Even the cracked, top side mast straightened.
The elements blood, wood, and nature best encompassed the concept of recovery. Airships and even astralships weren’t just constructed from wood because it was cheap. Their hulls and frame were made of wood because wooden structures easily regenerated lost essence. Stone and metal, by comparison, had the advantage of being harder to damage, but they were also more expensive to repair.
Finally, the ship floated over the island.
The battle eased, the flock of falcons reduced to a score. Exhausted mages had already retreated to the deck. Aerial combat was a mana hog, especially when fighting from a broom. Hunters were likewise worn. Only the warriors stood relatively steady. Ki had a deeper well than mana and endured better in a long fight.
Though, this didn’t help those fighters who were heavily injured.
As the numbers dwindled, the battle slowed and so too changed its nature. No longer did the gamers aim for quick kills. Instead, they lured the falcons close before ending them. Then, skilled players would step in to stabilize the bodies. This way, parts could be harvested: bones, feathers, beaks, and claws.
Experience wasn’t the only reward phantasms offered. Loot meant money. And money was also important. When guilds sent teams into the wilderness, there would always be a hunter’s sack at every player’s side. These enchanted tools held within them an expanded space while magical levitation helped to offset weight.
But they weren’t without flaws. Unlike a space bag, a hunter’s sack carried objects outside the soul. If the bearer died, the contents would be scattered on the ground surrounding. What’s more, these bags weren’t immune to the effects of spiritual mass. The more they held, the greater the inertial burden placed on its user.
“Did Riley kick the bucket?” Sylvia asked, glancing around for her blonde-haired friend.
“Mmm,” Emmy hummed in confirmation, after checking a screen.
“How sad,” Sylvia commented blandly. “We should make a tombstone for her.”
Windscourge’s roost came into view.
The titanic falcon’s nest was a bowl of twisted wood twice as big as the nether beast himself. This refuge was set into a shallow cave near the craggy summit. Windscourge had arrived before them, having ascended through a hole near the island’s center. The nether beast glared, his wings spread wide to make his already giant figure bigger and more threatening.
“KIAO!” he shrieked in warning.
Nether beasts weren’t like fey or demons. Their souls were as much individual entities as a projection of the world. This was a blessing and a curse. To capture the soul of a nether beast was nigh impossible, except at their anchor. Even then, specialized magics were needed to corporealize the beast’s spirit.
But in the reverse, a nether beast was left with nowhere to retreat once their nest was threatened. Windscourge could only resurrect here. It would take months of effort and special conditions for the titanic roc to change his anchor. Which meant, Windscourge would defend it at all costs, even if the colossal falcon knew the fight was hopeless.
Battle had taken its toll on the nether beast. Windscourge’s white feathers were wilted, ruined, and askew. Deep wounds were burnt into the skin beneath, the worst of them the bleeding holes left when Sylvia’s worms of rot erupted. With the destruction of his essence, the titanic roc’s aura had fallen. Sylvia could see the deep weakness in the haze around him with her pure starlight eyes.
The throng of rocs was likewise exhausted. No more than a dozen phantasms circled the summit of the tallest hill.
Windscourge flapped his wings before releasing a series of chirps. “K-k, kio-kao!”
Go away! Go away, you stinking land worms. This is my house. This is my sky. You don’t belong here. Sylvia could almost parse the turbulent psychic intent reverberating in Windscourge’s cry.
Either that, or she was projecting.
“Surrender to your betters, mangy bird!” Sylvia shouted back, augmenting her voice with ki so it echoed off the hill. “You owe us 800 gold for the Stratus. Until you pay back every coin lost because of your actions, I’ll have you carrying goods from Starport to Viridian on your back!”
Silence.
Emmy gave her a half-lidded stare. “Sylvia, that was unfair and unladylike.”
The tone of the emeraldette made clear she was more concerned about the latter than the former.
…
“You’re right,” Sylvia accepted with a nod. Her voice raised anew. “Make that 1000 gold, to cover the Cumulus’s repairs! But I’ll cut the fine to 500, on account of us stealing your house.”
There. Problem solved. Now she was both benevolent and fair, as a well-bred lady should be.
Windscourge burst from his perch. Sylvia could hear the rage in the falcon’s shriek.
“KIAO!”
“Negotiations have failed,” Sylvia concluded, deadpan. She raised her staff. Terrifying energy swirled around it. “Violence is the only answer.”
Screee-r-Ack!
Searing light tore apart the azure sky. With coldblooded indifference, Sylvia scoured the Windscourge from this world.
-oOo-
Grimoire
Prying Eye Runes: 218Mana: 120 to 480; 33%Range: 100 to 400 km * MysticismDuration: 1 hour
A high, fate element divination which conjures a conceptual camera. This sensory device will appear at a reasonable, safe distance from the target. After, it can be moved at a relative speed of 10m/s * Mysticism. Note, prying eye is always positioned relative to its target. This means, when the target moves, the eye will shift an equal distance. The caster may maintain the direction of their gaze regardless.
Despite the spell’s name, prying eye projects all the mage’s senses. This includes the ability to smell and hear. These senses retain the caster’s full capability without addition or reduction, including any special sensory traits the mage might possess. Further, the caster will have a kinesthetic understanding of the prying eye’s position with regard to themselves.
As with all magic, this spell can be sensed. However, being a spell of fate, detecting prying eye is extremely difficult.
General ModifiersPower Multiplier: SQRT(Mana Cost/120)Direct Target Multiplier: 1.5xNon-Gaze Multiplier: 0.5x
Mysticism Detection Level500%. . . . Subject gains a vague sense they’re being watched
1000%. . . .Subject gains a clear sense they’re being watched
1500%. . . . Subject senses the position of the eye and the nature of the prying
Arts, spells, or traits, such as an asteri’s starlight eyes, may allow individuals a glimpse of the prying eye. Mysticism, however, can detect the spell passively regardless of direction.
When a mage casts prying eye, he or she must first identify the target. As a fate spell, a great deal of vagueness is allowed. For instance, the mage might ask: “Who is plotting against me?” or “Who is the most beautiful of them all?”. The more information the caster has on the target, the more likely prying eye is to succeed. As with all fate based divinations, there is a risk of false positives. This risk increases as the chance of success falls.
In general, one should not expect prying eye to find any target a small team of investigators hired for a week could not find given similar information.
Finally, prying eye can pierce through weak wards and other protections. When doing so, the senses will always be degraded by some relative proportion of the penetration.
Ward Penetration: Dominion/2 * (Power Multiplier – 50%)Max Penetration: 1000%
Penetration is resisted by Spirit: Integrity, or by the integrity of the tool or item used for protection.
Rune GateRunes: 192Mana: 60 + 10%; 33%Range: 5 km * Mysticism
A realm based meta-magic which allows the teleportation of a single spell to a target within the gate’s range. Rune gate does not provide automated positioning, the caster will instead need line of sight or some other means to accurately place the gate. The targeting of the spell after follows the ordinary process.
Interestingly, the gate’s opening is difficult to sense. This, coupled with the short crossing time of 500 milliseconds / Mysticism, means rune gate can be used in ambush tactics. This is especially effective with spells like earth spike or grave maw where the rune gate can remove a large portion of the dodgeable delay before the magic takes effect.
On the other hand, spells which require a persistent connection to the caster may be severed as soon as the gate shuts. This includes magics like marionette, which cast psychic threads from the master to the slave.
Sylvia’s Notes: I think this might be the most bullshit spell I’ve ever created.
Edict Runes: 490Mana: 400 to 2500; 20%Duration: 15 minutes, 30 minutes, or 1 hourAOE: 200 to 500 meters; or 400 to 1000 metersRange: 100 meters * Mysticism
A free form law high magic which invokes whichever rule is stated by the caster. This rule must be conceptually simple and applies to everyone in the area of effect.
Edict is a highly versatile magic, but depending on the nature of the rule and the target for which it is applied, the power will vary greatly.
Duration . . . . . Target
15 minutes . . . Any small mobile object. Any living being.
30 minutes . . Any large, mobile non-living object (such as an airship)
1 hour . . . . . . . . A fixed piece of terrain
1 hour* . . . . . . Fixed terrain accepted by the plane’s world logic. Also, twice the area of effect.
Amplification . . Effect Breadth
10% to 15% . . . . A broad phenomenon (“Magic is effective”)
25% to 50% . . . A narrow expression (“Fire is especially strong”)
50% to 100% . . A change to the environment (“The sky is clear”)
As with all law magic, it is impossible to stack effects. That is to say, fire magic cannot be enhanced twice. It is, however, possible to stack similar effects over different scopes. “Fire is especially strong” + “Magic is effective”. Environmental changes reference the degree to which the world’s logic is overwritten. Declaring “A blizzard has arrived” might only achieve 50% effect in a jungle or a desert, but it’d reach 100% effect in a temperate climate.
As a final note, it is possible to stack similar breadth effects that target different aspects. Thus, spell potency, mana cost, and ether ratio can be enhanced simultaneously.
Sylvia’s Notes: I derived this spell after studying Taranis’s heart.
Binding Chain Runes: 131 + ModuleMana: 200 to 600 metal, 150 law; 33%Hp: 300 to 700Defense: 1000 to 2000Duration: 30 seconds, 1 hour
In terms of basic functions, binding chain is nearly identical to the spell steel shackle. The major differences are: that the chain flies at 75m/s, active life frame is 30 seconds, the length ranges from 30 to 70 meters, and the Strength: Force attribute is 500% to 1300%.
Where the spells deviate significantly is with the introduction of law. All binding chains are ‘inescapable’. This rule reduces the effectiveness of any action taken to either avoid the chain or escape it. This reduction starts at 25%, increasing by 10% for each chain with a different module added. The maximum suppression is 70%, regardless of the number of chains or modules used.
In addition, each chain is paired with a law module which adds a unique debuff.
Dampening Chain, 47 runes – When bound, the subject will lose all ability to manipulate ether (Resistible). Further, the total amount of mystic energy the subject can control is reduced by 35%.
Weakening Chain, 42 runes – When bound, externalized ki will become unstable, resulting in a 1000% increase to stamina consumption (Resistible). Further, all offensive ki arts will be 25% less potent.
Immobilizing Chain, 61 runes – When bound, all movement abilities, arts, techniques, and spells will be rendered ineffective (Resistible). Further, the speed and precision of all actions will be reduced by 15%.
Blinding Chain, 54 runes – When bound, the chains will cover the target’s eyes blocking ordinary sight. This will also suppress sensory abilities, arts, techniques, and spells (Resistible). Further, all senses will be dulled by 25%.
Imprisoning Chain, 55 runes – When bound, the target will be sealed to the current ‘location’, rendering all means of escape ineffective (Resistible). Further, all powers used to damage or undermine the prison will also be subject to the general ‘inescapable’ suppression.
Resistance to the effect is ‘Attribute’ divided by the caster’s Magic: Dominion. If the effect impacts ki, it is resisted by Vitality: Toughness. Otherwise, the effect is resisted with Spirit: Integrity. What’s more, the bound individual’s resistance stat will be suppressed by the combined ‘inescapable’ attribute of every chain.
Ratio . . . . . Effect
<100% . . . The effect applies fully.
>100% . . . .The effect can be proportionally reduced with effort, but requires concentration.
>200% . . . The effect can be ignored with negligible effort.
Sylvia’s Notes: After trading Belkis secure link for steel shackle, I was disappointed. So I created an improved version.