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The anger of a god was a visceral thing. Hump felt it tremble in the faint tendrils of power that escaped Loften’s control, vibrating with intent. It brushed against his own soul like a shadow passing overhead, vast as the sky.
While Hump could not trust Loften, he believed that anger. It was real.
“I do not know if I believe your words,” Hump said. “But I trust that we share a common goal—to reach the Path to Heaven. To reach the Pantheon. Unfortunately, that is where our paths diverge. You are mistaken—the Pantheon is not our enemy.”
A bitter smile touched Loften’s lips. “I think you will find that it is you that is mistaken, Bearer of Infinity.”
“We cannot set him free,” Bud said, stepping forward. “Hump, we just can’t. It’s wrong.”
“We don’t have another way,” Hump said. “We’re trapped. The warlocks—”
“Are they truly worse than setting Loften free?” Bud hissed, eyes wide as if shocked at his own words. “You heard him he wishes to see the Pantheon fall. He is not our ally, but a calamity waiting to happen. Evil.”
“Evil,” Loften echoed. “Such certainty. Are you so sure of your gods, child? Even after all you’ve heard?”
“Lies,” Bud spat.
Loften tilted his head, his white eyes narrowed disdain. “I can show you the truth. You carry my mark as much as the altari. It has been changed, yes, but I can remake it. Here and now. I can show you what you were meant to be. Return the freedom to you with which you were born. I can reforge you.”
“You will not,” Bud said, hand going to his sword. “And I will listen to this no longer. We made a mistake coming here. If it is our fate to remain in this world, then we will make the best of what we have. It matters not. The risk of freeing Loften is too great.” Bud’s eyes went to Hump. “Say something, Hump.”
“And what of the warlocks?” Hump said. “What of Godfrey? If we stop now, we are deciding to do nothing.”
“Better nothing than this. What follows will be on us. It will be our fault. At least the warlocks are mortals, but Loften… he was left here for a reason. We must trust in that.”
“Not all our foes are mortals,” Hump said.
“Baelkor is not out fight.”
“Baelkor?” Loften asked. “Baelkor broke the seals?”
Bud jabbed a finger at him. “You do not ask questions. It is done. You will remain—”
“Enough!” Loften’s voice cracked through the chamber. The air buckled. His soul expanded, surging within its prison, and Hump was nearly thrown from his feet. He caught himself, jamming his staff to the ground and gripping it tight, channeling Transform Earth beneath his feet to anchor himself. The stone bent to his will, forming a ridge to hold him steady as the divine presence threatened to tear him away.
Then came the scream. Bud let out a roar, his voice distorted by pain.
“You forget who I am, child!” Loften said, his voice carried on essence. “Your arrogance I can ignore, but your ignorance… I will show you what it is you so desperately protect.”
“Release him!” Emilia shouted.
Nisha crawled up at her side, pressing against the storm of essence, adding her roar to Emilia’s. Celaine had an arrow on her bow, though she held it. Dylan’s eyes were on Bud, a deep frown on his face.
Hump struggled to move, essence burning in his veins as he fought to break through the pressure bearing down on them. He summoned what power he could, tried to call it to his hands—but it was sealed, locked inside him, blocked by Loften’s overwhelming will. He gritted his teeth, helpless.
“Loften, what are you doing?” Hump shouted, straining against the storm. “Stop! We had a deal! The deal is off if you harm him!”
“I am not harming him,” Loften said. His voice was quieter now, but no less powerful. “I am setting him free.”
Frostfire erupted from Bud, bursting outward in a sphere of blazing blue. It washed across the ground, etching radiant glyphs into the stone, each line filled with power. Five great shimmered into being, drawn from the very essence of Bud’s soul. His blessings filled each of them, taking form one by one just as Hump had seen before. Yet as he reached the last, a sixth circle—a new circle, took form.
The maelstrom intensified. Loften’s form vanished into the swirl of essence, indistinct and formless. The storm raged within the bounds of the four pillars, and Hump could only watch.
Nishari roared, her flame blooming in fury, brilliant and red, scorching the air, but it was useless. Her fire could not pass the boundaries of Loften’s prison.
And then, silence.
The blaze dimmed. The storm stilled.
Bud knelt at the centre of six circles of ice, his form slumped, shoulders heaving. The glyphs glowed with pale blue light. Hump had seen them enough to recognise that these were not the same. The change was subtle, but the glyphs were no longer what they once were.
Hump took a cautious step forward. “Bud?”
The knight lifted his head. His eyes burned with Frostfire, but behind them, Hump saw something else—anguish, pain, and rage.
“What did you do to me?” Bud snarled, rising to his feet. His sword hissed from its scabbard.
“You are reforged,” Loften said, voice strained. The storm of essence converged on him and once more and disappeared. “I have turned you into what you were always meant to be. I have restored your potential, removed the bindings upon your soul. You are no child of Kelisia any longer, but a man free of any god, blessed with an affinity with Frostfire.”
“You have cursed me!” Bud spat, spittle in the air, tears welling in his eyes.
“You saw it though, didn’t you,” Loften said. “You must have felt it, like a breath of fresh air. There was a knot around your soul, and now it is free. Let it loose, child. Manifest it here and now. Show us all who you are.”
Loften screamed, his soul leaping from his body again. He slumped in his chains, gasping as he drew his essence back into him. The strain showed in every line of his face. Sweat beaded on his brow. His limbs trembled, barely keeping his soul contained.
Time was running out.
“It cannot be,” Bud said softly.
“You know it to be true,” Loften growled. “You can feel where the chain once was. She was no god of yours.”
“Bud…” Hump called to him. “We need to make a decision.”
Bud looked at Hump with the eyes of a man that had given up. The hope—the light—was gone, and what remained was hollow. He fell back to his knees, eyes empty. Listless.
“I don’t care anymore,” Bud said softly. His sword clattered to the ground beside him. “You were right, Hump. It was all lies. All of it.”
Hump clenched his jaw. He swallowed the lump in his throat, heart hurting at the sight of his friend, but he couldn’t give him the time he needed right now.
“I’ll stay with him,” Emilia said. “Just get on with it.”
Hump gave her a nod.
Loften’s soul surged again, escaping his body in a burst of swirling energy. Once more he drew it back in, grimacing with the effort.
“What will it be, wizard? Free me now or live with your choice.”
“You had no right to do that,” Hump said.
“I merely opened his eyes,” Loften said.
“It was not your place.”
“I am a god!” Loften thundered, voice echoing off the chamber walls as he strained against his chains. They groaned but held. “He was bound by shackles I forged. Who else is more fit to break them?”
Hump drew a deep breath, holding tight to that anger and pressing it down. “Tell me what to do.”
Loften exhaled. “The essence stone in the pillars. You must infuse them with your essence and follow my instruction. Begin with the pillar of fire on your right. the bindings are complex. I can explain the first but pay attention.” Another shockwave burst from Loften. His soul shuddered and strained. Hump stumbled back, catching himself on his staff. The air crackled with pressure, and even breathing felt like a task.
“I warned you,” Loften said between heavy breaths. “We are out of time. I will not last long enough to guide you through all four.”
“I must know,” Hump said, voice low. “That I am not unleashing a calamity upon the world.”
Loften’s gaze burned with conviction. “This is not a calamity,” he said. “It is a reckoning—for our shared enemy. Now go to the pillar. Those who see fit to enslave humanity to empower themselves.”
Hump turned.
Behind him, Dylan had joined Emilia, helping her pull Bud toward the exit. Nisha paced anxiously at the threshold. Celaine and Emilia had pushed forward, unable to watch him face this alone.
“Stay back,” Hump said, raising a hand. “Leave this to me.”
The air was thick with Loften’s power. Every step was like wading through a dream of smoke and fire. But Hump pushed forward, staggered to the nearest pillar, a monolith of metal and stone glowing with bronze essence.
He pressed his palm to the essence stone set in its centre. Immediately, heat raced up his arm, searing along his channels. He gritted his teeth and reached for his own essence, shaping it with intent and force of will. With effort, he pushed it into the stone.
A flash of burning vision tore through his mind.
He was not in the temple anymore. He saw that other world—the realm of pure essence Loften had shown him once before, the one he’d glimpsed when tracing the mark on the Herald’s soul. Fire and light, nothing but raw energy tearing through a shattered sky. The world was gone. Obliterated. Only hunger and power remained.
And intent. Overwhelming intent. Hump’s thoughts drifted, swallowed in its tide. He felt himself slipping into something vast and endless.
Then a voice cut through the storm.
“Do not fall for its allure, Wizard. Focus!” Loften’s voice yanked Hump back.
He gasped, latching onto it like a lifeline and returning to his body. The pillar still burned beneath his hand, but he was ready now.
“What was that?” Hump asked.
“Each of these is a Reality Anchor, formed from a piece of the World Core,” Loften said. “I designed them to stabilise the formations as they draw directly upon the World Core for power. Without them, this entire island would fall to pieces, and the abyss would swallow us.”
“So don’t break them,” Hump muttered.
“Simply follow my instructions,” Loften said. “Begin by taking over the outer ring of the runic formations. Focus on the foremost rune first. One at a time.”
Hump narrowed his thoughts, drawing on the discipline of years spent shaping spells and forging his soul into something he could control. Slowly, bit by bit, he forces his essence deeper into the pillar, threading his intent into the formation like a pick into a lock. The glyphs resisted, them, one by one, began to dim.
Another pulse of Loften’s essence rocked the room. The god groaned in pain, his soul slipping.
Hump listened carefully to his words, following his guidance step by step through the formation. It wasn’t overwhelmingly complex, but it was powerful. The runes were formed with such perfect intent that they could process more essence than Hump would have thought possible. But it was simple enough for him to follow.
Rune by rune, Hump wormed his way through the formation on the pillar. It was a painstakingly slow process, requiring constant focus and subtle essence manipulation. Once, this would have been poorly suited to his skills but these days it came more naturally. Still, this was made for hands far more skilled than his.
By the time he reached the essence core, Loften was barely holding on. With the formation fully under his control, it was a simple matter for Hump to cut off the flow to the power source below. And with it came a flare of essence. The first of Loften’s shackles was broken.
With the first pillar deactivated, Hump moved on to the next, one by one. He broke the connection between each of the reality anchors and the world core. Slowly, the stifling power of the chamber dissipated. The rich intent that filled every aspect of this place weakened a little, enough that his control over his own power grew stronger. With each of the pillars, it was easier than the last.
Yet when he reached the final one, Hump paused.
Loften’s control over his soul was incredibly weak now, barely contained within the prison. All Hump had to do was wait, and it would leave him vulnerable—exposed and open to receive a mark, just like those he bestowed upon others. Hump wondered how hard it would be to create the bindings of the gods with a soul exposed like Loften’s, and what he knew about god glyphs suggested it wouldn’t be too challenging.
“Are you going to do something?” Loften asked quietly. “You carry the spellbook of Samuel Doreen. There must be a spell to bind my soul in there. Are you going to mark me—the price for my freedom?”
It was tempting. Hump had to admit, so tempting in fact that he glanced down at his spellbook, wondering if Glyndril might show him something. The owl was angry; there was no doubt about that. Perhaps binding Loften to his will would quell that rage.
But no. That was not who he was.
“I will make no slave of you,” Hump said.
“You think yourself better than me?” Loften scoffed. “Greater than I, above me.”
Hump stared at Loften, chin held high.
“In this regard, yes. I will not take your freedom from you, for that is not what I stand for.”
Hump released the final pillar.
The was a surge of essence, then nothing. The bindings were broken. Loften was free.
The god fell forward, slumping onto the ground. He lay there, looking more man than ever. He clatched at the cold stone, groaned as he slowly pushed himself up, testing his limbs. His face broke into a smile and laughter came once more.
“Spectres!” Celaine called. “They’re coming.”