This is the make-up chapter. I’ll try to finish another one today as well <3
Zeke stood frozen.
Between his shock at the Hive’s actions and the agony of his burned nerves slowly knitting themselves back together, he didn’t have the strength to do anything.
He watched in stunned silence as the Hive descended on the legion of elite Mages like moths to a flame.
The Fire Mages did not falter as the Greycloaks had, nor did they fall apart like the Wind Mages. This time, the Hive did not have the advantage of numbers, nor were they facing a force deprived of its leader.
The Archmage hadn’t wasted a single moment after dodging the Golden Shade.
“Sky Dome!” she yelled, her raised hand already blazing crimson.
Her overwhelming firepower and steady presence gave the men under her courage.
Moments later, the sky turned into a storm of flames fueled by the full power of the entire troop. Burning Shades dropped like rain. A curved barrier of fire formed above the formation, no less real than an actual wall. A masterclass in coordinated power. Something only an elite army could accomplish.
Zeke realized it immediately.
The Hive had been right. They weren’t strong enough to face such a force. Attacking them meant death. Its refusal had been logical.
But then… why had they come?
He had ordered them.
He had threatened them.
He had been prepared to unmake them.
And yet, the Hive had not budged.
So why were they here now?
The Golden Shade, after recovering from its failed opening strike, lunged straight toward the Archmage. Out of all the Shades, it was the only one that had even the slightest chance of facing her.
But when its claws tore through her body, there was no grunt of pain from her. Instead, it was the Shade that howled, its talons blackened by that single moment of contact.
It had fared no better than Zeke.
Still, the assault was enough to draw the woman’s attention. She stopped her bombardment of the sky and turned to face the Golden Shade, which was already preparing a second charge.
That gave the swarm some leeway.
Gaps opened in the aerial defense. Here and there, a Shade passed through the burning dome and dropped into the rank and file.
Even then, none survived long. But the burst of carnage they unleashed was savage enough to drive fear deep into the hearts of the Fire Mages. They redoubled their efforts to close every opening, but with each Shade that slipped through, a few of their number either fell or sustained grave injuries.
It was a self-feeding cycle.
And soon, one slipped through every other second.
Zeke saw the shift happen in real time.
Shoulders turned. Eyes left the sky. The defensive wall above them began to thin. Without the guidance of a strong leader, and with their own survival on the line, the soldiers’ discipline finally faltered.
One by one, the troops abandoned the defensive wall above their heads and fought for themselves instead. The coordinated defense collapsed into a skirmish, allowing the surviving Shades to land without contest.
But Zeke’s relief was short-lived as he counted their numbers. Out of over one thousand Shades, fewer than a hundred were still alive.
Even so, they didn’t hesitate, as if survival had never been a priority in the first place.
He saw one of them land between two Fire Mages. They had been attacking another Shade, but turned the moment they felt the presence beside them.
Too late.
Unlike most flying creatures, Shades were just as comfortable on the ground as they were in the air. It turned its dive into a roll, its wings vanishing into its back. Its arm-talons flashed out, severing half of each Mage’s neck.
The Shade didn’t stop. It dove toward its next target, moving with the grace of a trained assassin. Both talons sank into the back of a distracted Mage and burst out of his chest, directly over his heart.
That was when its luck ran out.
A Fireball caught it in the ribs and made it stumble. It tried to leap toward the Mage who had attacked it, but a concentrated beam of molten fire came from the side. The Shade brought up one arm to shield its face, but the beam burned through the limb without resistance. Its head held for a moment longer.
Not much longer.
A second beam joined the first, and then a third.
The Shade collapsed completely. Its body, now devoid of vitality, turned into a simmering smear of red goo. There was no energy left in it, no remnant strength to draw on.
The same scene repeated itself a dozen times. The Shades landed, fought brilliantly, and were killed in short order. Like glowing embers, blazing brightly before being snuffed out forever.
Zeke couldn’t watch any longer. He didn’t know why the Hive had decided to do this, but he wouldn’t allow their sacrifice to be in vain. Pain or not, this wasn’t the time to stand by like a fool.
Straining his mind to its limit, he once again dialed up his [Sanguine Clarity]. Not to the point where the world stood still around him, but enough that the frantic movements of the battle slowed considerably, as if everything were moving through molasses.
Zeke tore space once more, appearing in the center of the troops.
Blood was abundant here, flowing freely from the corpses of the recently deceased.
He focused on a body lying between two Fire Mages who were channeling Mana into their hands, both aiming at one of the Shades.
Blood burst from the corpse’s back like a grotesque cypress tree in bloom, its spiked, spear-like branches shooting straight toward the two Mages.
Zeke didn’t wait to watch the result. He shifted his attention to another fight. Three Mages were channeling that same fiery beam toward a Shade from two sides. It was too late to stop them. Instead, he raised the blood into shields on either side of the creature. They wouldn’t hold forever, but they would last long enough for the Shade to escape the spells.
To his right, another Shade was about to be struck by a Mage with flaming palms. It was a powerful close-combat spell, and judging by the heat contained within, that palm strike would likely melt it in an instant.
Zeke conjured a Spatial Barrier before the Mage’s chest, guaranteeing that he would run into it before reaching the Shade.
He turned toward the next threat, but for an instant, everything went black.
The strain in his mind reached a boiling point. It felt as if he hadn’t slept in far too many nights and was still trying to complete complicated equations. With every spell, the pressure mounted until his skull felt like a boiler about to rupture.
His mind, his body, and his Core had already reached their limit.
Blood began to trickle from his eyes, ears, and nose.
No. It was not enough.
Not yet.
Zeke cast another shield, another bloody tree, another targeted interception. At the sight of an incoming projectile, he rolled forward.
The Mage who had fired at him had aimed the spell at the ground beneath his feet. The burning projectile detonated the moment it struck, the flames already licking at his heels.
Midway through his roll, Zeke tore space once more and appeared a few dozen meters to the side.
He had to overshoot. Without an Anchor, short jumps inside such a crowded battlefield were suicide.
He managed the jump, but this was when the dam broke.
Zeke emerged a few feet in the air outside the battlefield, his control over the spell finally slipping. For an instant, it seemed as if time was actually flowing in fast-forward to catch up with the portion he had stolen, but he quickly realized that this was just his perception working against him. His mind, severely overdrawn and overworked, could barely follow what was happening anymore.
Zeke fell, landing painfully on the hard ground. The half-regrown skin and flesh on his side were once again torn away by the heavy impact.
He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even notice the pain. His entire focus was drawn to the battlefield, to the final stand of the Shades. His intervention had been quick and violent, causing great casualties among the Mages, but it didn’t change the outcome.
One by one, the Shades were slaughtered.
He saw the last of them fall not too far from him. It had beheaded a Mage, but paid with its life for the glorious feat.
Zeke slowly rose to his knees, looking out over the field.
It was a scene of carnage. Hundreds of dead Mages, even more injured.
The proud elite of the Legion had been decimated, had been humbled, but they hadn’t been defeated. With every passing second, more and more of them rose.
Their eyes were filled with a trace of fear, but more prominently, with hatred. Hatred, and a promise of vengeance.
Those eyes slowly turned in one direction. Toward him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zeke saw a shape approaching. He lunged backward, clearing the area before it could reach him. But it was not an attack. It was a body gracelessly landing in the dirt.
Zeke didn’t recognize it at first, even though the familiar Mana told him exactly who this body belonged to.
It was the golden Shade.
Parts of it were missing, and what remained of its form was unrecognizable. The pristine golden color of Draconic Blood was nowhere to be seen. Its entire body was blackened and charred. The formerly formidable creature looked like a boar that had been forgotten on the spit roast.
Zeke could feel the last traces of vitality fading fast from the creature. It was barely alive.
Its body twitched weakly, then stronger. Despite its pitiful state, the Shade once more rose. Zeke watched as the creature extended the stump that remained of its arm protectively, shielding him behind it.
Past the arm, the Archmage was walking up. There was a frown on her face, but that was the extent of it. No wound marred her body, and she didn’t even seem especially exhausted.
She ignored the Shade, staring directly at Zeke. “That’s quite the loyal hound you got there. Shame it’s so weak.”
Zeke ignored the woman, staring intently at the back of the Golden Shade. Even now, in its final moment, it still chose to protect him.
“…Why?”
The Shade stilled for an instant before answering.
“In the next life…” it said, slowly turning its head. “We can be… friends too.”
Zeke’s eyes widened.
He remembered instantly. The words he had spoken to the Shade earlier. He had said that Vulcanos was a friend because he had been through thick and thin with him, because Vulcanos had stood by his side when nobody else had.
Zeke opened his mouth, but no words came out. His lips trembled.
He had taken a newborn mind and taught it that affection had to be earned through death.
He opened his mouth again. “Next…”
The rest was cut off before he could force it out.
The Archmage flicked her wrist, and white-hot flame swallowed the Golden Shade whole. For a single instant, the golden light in its eyes flickered.
Then its body disintegrated completely, leaving not even a puddle behind.
Slowly, Zeke raised his head to look at the woman standing before him.
She was grinning at him.
“I’m sorry. Were you two not finished yet?”
Zeke didn’t respond. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the blood seeping from his nose and eyes, then slowly rose to his feet. His entire body screamed in protest, begging him for rest.
He ignored it.
No matter what, he would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him weak. Seeing him mourn. Seeing him cower.
“Is this really the time to act smug?” he asked, rising to his full height and peering past the woman at the remnants of her troops.
“You do realize,” he added slowly, “that half your men are dead because of me.”