Jules didn’t have enough strength to dodge or stop the Warg’s impact. It pushed him back, straight into the lesh, who wrapped one hand around Jules’ entire torso and flung him through the air.
[Ryoku Restoration Potion effect completed.]
[?10,000 // ?10,000]
? Air ? ? ? Ryoku Shield ? ? [?8,600 // ?10,000]
The Scripts lessened his impact with a tree, to some degree.
? Summon ? ? Arrows ? [?7,900 // ?10,000]
He drew his father’s bow and conjured a quiver’s worth of arrows. Jules loosed them, five at a time, and tried to strike each opponent with each round.
He ran to better cover. Jules weaved through trees to avoid the Warg, but vines ensnared his feet and tripped him. The Warg trampled Jules, and a stone-covered arm bludgeoned him. Holy shit, I might not survive this.
Why can’t I Regenerate?
“KAIZEN DIDN’T WARN YOU?”
The Leshen and the Warg halted their assaults, as if their puppeteers hesitated.
“What’s this? Are you controlling them?”
“YESSS…AND NO.”
“What didn’t Kaizen tell me?” Jules maintained a defensive stance, unwilling to put trust in Wrath's ceasefire.
“IF YOU GO INTO A SHRINE FOR A PIECE OF THE SOUND, YOU FORFEIT YOUR ARCANIC POWERS.”
He can’t be serious.
“That’s certainly some bullshit.” Kaizen did warn me, and I didn’t listen. I practically shut him away…But he would have told me if he knew.
“CHECKS AND BALANCESSS. ONLY THE WORTHY MAY BRANDISH THE SOUND.”
“You’re an asshole, Wrath.”
“HA! IT IS NOT MY DOING. THE SOUND HAS A WILL OF HIS OWN. HOWEVER, I WILL MAKE A DEAL WITH YOU, TO SURVIVE.”
“No thanks, I’d rather not kill everyone again.” Jules’ eyes emitted green flames. He noticed they didn't draw any Ryoku.
“OH? WE SHALL SEE.”
The monsters resumed their attacks. Wrath spoke through the Leshen with each strike.
“YOU NEED ME, JULES.”
The Leshen swept a claw in through its entire range of motion. Dozens of trees crashed to the ground. Jules managed to avoid it and another sideswipe from the Warg.
“I hate you. I—”
“YOU HATE YOURSELF.”
Fiery vines shot from the Lesh’s palm. They wrapped around Jules and scalded his skin and the viscera beneath.
[?7,600 // ?10,000]
“IF YOU WISH TO SAVE THEM, ACCEPT MY OFFER.”
The Leshen, or Wrath through it, flung Jules around in an arc with its vines. He crashed to the hard ground.
[?6,800 // ?10,000]
“Agh!” Jules ripped away the vines. His flames turned dark green, almost gray. “I hope you’re in there, because I’m going to kill you myself.”
The Warg erupted in fire as well, into an uncontrollable blaze that caught everything around it in crimson flames.
“WHY MUST YOU ALL BE LIKE THIS? RISKING EVERYTHING FOR PRIDE.”
Jules unsheathed his broken katana. He rolled under the sprinting Warg and cut open its stomach, end to end. Its flames scalded Jules' face, but the beast howled in pain and collapsed, though it appeared to cauterize the wound quickly.
“HE STOLE YOUR POWER… OUR POWER. I CAN HELP YOU GET IT BACK. FOR A PRICE.”
The Leshen ripped off its stone armor bracers and flung them at Jules. They both missed, and one cratered into the ground, the other stuck halfway through a tree beside Jules.
“I can win this alone. All of it!” Jules hastily carved a Script into the surface of the stone with his blade. It was a shoddy job to a shoddy effect, but he decomposed the stone’s Ryoku into a rough shield for himself. It evaporated and reconstituted itself in around his arm.
“NO ONE EVER ACHIEVED GREAT FEATS ALONE.”
The Leshen punched straight into the shield and pushed Jules back. His feet carved a path into the dirt.
“Watch me.” The Warg was back on all four feet again.
“I ALREADY HAVE. YOU ARE INSUFFICIENT.”
The Leshen removed its stone chest plate. Gripping it with two hands, he thrust the sharpened bottom point downward, onto Jules—but he dove straight for its exposed chest and pushed all of his green flames into the monster. The colors of the flames fused together.
Fight fire with fire, you piece of—shit.
The monster went berserk and swung its chest plate wildly into Jules, who flew through the air and landed, impaled, on the Warg’s antlers.
[?2,800 // ?10,000]
It thrashed and flung him off. Jules crashed to the ground again, disoriented. Hot, sticky blood pooled around him. He dipped a finger in, then wiped it across his katana. He infused some Ryoku into it.
[?1,900 // ?10,000]
“DO NOT DIE HERE. THERE IS MUCH YET TO BE DONE.”
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Jules groaned. His bones and organs ached, but he was determined to go out swinging. If that was it, well, so be it.
“FOOLISH. IF YOU DIE HERE, THEY DIE.”
Jules’ mind filled with images of Cyrus and Katarina taken captive by Zeke.
No, he’s lying, just trying to convince me to give him control. There’s another way, somewhere…
“NO. THERE IS ONLY ONE CHOICE FOR YOU.”
Jules looked around desperately. He was practically in a clearing, the trees all around him had withered away.
“You’re right about that.” Jules reserved the slightest remnant of Ryoku, then invoked a Rune.
? FIRE ? [?900 // ?10,000]
Jules ignited himself into an erupting fireball that encapsulated the surrounding glades.
CYRUS
Rough iron shackles cut through Cy’s wrist as he tried to wrench out his fists. The fetters connected his hands to heavy chains, on another set of shackles around each ankle. The short chains restricted his movement.
Definitely the work of the Bounty Hunters. These are Enchanted to prevent me from using any Scripts. Wonder if that applies to the Inked Arts as well? He looked down at his tourist disguise, which suddenly felt really stupid.
There’s an actual chance I might be executed in a floral print shirt.
No, don’t think like that. Jules is coming. Jules will come. I hope they didn’t strip search us while we were unconscious. The Monk dragged Envy to the stone wall beside Cy. She wore the same chains. What about her Seal? Is that blocked too?
“Nasty scar you go there.” Cy nodded to the Monk's chest. The brute punched Cy in the gut. He wheezed. The Monk’s injury had been hastily healed, which would surely scar him for life.
“How’s your friend doing?” Envy asked. The Monk backhanded her across the face so hard she spat out blood.
“His name is Felix. He will make it through. He always does.”
"You better leave those—hack—daggers in him. Nasty work."
The Monk halted his second strike from the sudden noise. Outside, on the other side of the stone walls, a crowd erupted into applause and cheers. Cy had never been back here before, but he suspected they were in the hallway that led to the plaza’s stage. Iron boots clanked on cobblestone and preceded Zeke’s approach.
“You.”
Zeke ignored Cy and inspected Envy’s bloodied lip. “What’s this, Ragnar?”
“Spoke ill of Felix.”
“Do not tarnish the merchandise, please.” Zeke knelt down close to them and was still nearly eye level. “Now, which one of you is the closest to Wrath?”
Cy glared at his newest mortal enemy. Envy launched a bloody loogie at the bastard's cheek.
“Hmph. The Maiden washes away your Sinful nature with her holiness.” Zeke patiently removed a lovely white cloth from his sash and wiped his face. He tossed the soiled cloth to the ground. “Ragnar, we start with the girl.”
“Don’t worry, Kay.” Cy addressed her by an alias. “He’ll come. He’ll make it on time.”
"Where is The Spider?" Ragnar asked. "Still searching for Wrath?”
“Said he had some correspondence to make, directly with the Iron Maiden herself. Not sure why she’d call him at such a crucial time like this, when Wrath isn’t yet in our grasp, but…”
Ragnar grunted a response. “Superiority complex. Thought we didn’t bring the military in because we had him nearby for the trap.”
“She has made him our superior, and you would do well to remember the chain of command. Now, take them to the stage. We have a show to put on.”
Cy and Envy stumbled as Ragnar shoved them up the stairs, toward the stage. It required intense concentration not to trip in front of the crowd and further embarrass himself. They shuffled onto the wooden platform. A hangman’s noose was set up next to an executioner’s block.
Shit. Now’s a perfect time, Jules.
“Cy…" Envy trailed off.
“He’s on his way, trust me. Trust him.” Cy was bluffing. It was a lie, and they both knew it. Cy knew Envy was worried for herself, sure, but more so for Cy. He was grateful that she had subtly volunteered to go first.
Just in case. But it won’t matter, he’ll show up. Cy surveyed the crowd, full of people he’d known in a past life. Only two stuck out to him, and their presence made the moment even worse, made the reality of it all really set in. Bookstacker, the Scholars Guild Recruiter who’d denied him, and whom Cy’d defeated and humiliated during the Sack, sneered and threw rotten food at him.
“Hey, you,” Cy shouted. “Now is that upholding the principles of the Scholars?” 'Bookstacker scoffed.
And then there was Patricia.
She glared at him with her signature permanent frown. He was surprised she didn’t sneer as well, but she had somehow found a novel way to inflict psychological trauma upon him. She brought all the other kids to watch. Cy’s heart raced, and he was nervous for the first time.
The Island Elder walked to the podium, but Zeke blocked him.
“That won’t be necessary, Elder.” Zeke addressed the crowd. “Attention, residents of Coralhaven! At long last, we bring you justice, if not just some small portion of it. These two conspirators before you are servants of the one you knew as Jules Tideshaper, whom all of Salvatica now knows as Wrath.”
The crowd jeered and demanded no mercy, no quarter. Cy and his Party were slandered, called murderers, friends of Sinners. Zeke commanded their silence.
“We have reason to believe that Wrath has returned to Coralhaven. He returned with his servants, but abandoned even them to death—though this should not surprise us—in order to save his own demonic hide. Now, the time for mercy has passed. We cannot allow these two base criminals, these evil spirits, to crawl back to their master should they somehow escape. First, we have the girl who appears to be his whore.”
Ragnar thrust her to the forefront of the stage. The crowd booed and hurled rotten food and obscenities at her. They demanded her head. Cy felt deeply for Envy in that moment, the humiliation and impartiality of it all. If only they knew. Cy looked away to save what remained of her honor.
“The Iron Maiden herself has decreed her death shall commence immediately, without trial. The blood is already on her hands, quite literally, as she nearly felled one of my brothers-in-arms.”
“Death to the infidels!”
“Next, we have someone whom you all recognize. He betrayed your trust, he killed your brothers and your sisters, your mothers and fathers, your sons, your daughters.” Someone kicked Cy to his knees. He turned around to find the masked assassin. Her presence stung more than the physical pain. “Cyrus, of no Surname, an urchin of the streets to his very end. We shall execute him today as well, without trial, by decree of Her Holiness.”
“Long live the Iron Maiden!”
“Justice!”
“Now, onto the show. Ragnar, the girl.”
“With pleasure.” Ragnar hoisted Envy over his shoulder.
She thrashed and kicked, spat and bit. He flopped her—not gently—into position on the executioner’s block. He shoved her head down so that her neck fit into the supple arc curved into the stone block. Cy gazed at the basket beneath it, the basket whose sole job was to collect her head. It paralyzed her, and she stopped resisting. She and Cy shared unbroken eye contact.
“It’s OK, Kat.” He’d forgotten her alias by now. “I’m here with you now, and he’ll be here soon.” Cy reached out an arm.
Envy was a brick wall of emotions, but then she shed a single tear, and Cy knew it wasn’t for herself.
Neither one blinked. Zeke approached the block. He brandished a black executioner’s ax. It looked evil. He looked evil. The blade was massive, heavily weighted to ensure a quick and merciful kill. The crowd drowned out Cy’s shouts.
“It’s OK, Kat! He’ll be here. In three…two..one…”
Their unflinching eye contact ended. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, which fell, severed. Her expression nearly killed Cy, the terror on her face, which plummeted in slow motion, an expression frozen across her features from the nerve damage.
PLOP!
Envy finally landed in the basket. Despite the crowd’s roar, he heard the gushing blood and wet sounds of the entire death sentence. And he was next.
Cy lost his composure. For Envy, for Jules, for himself. He’d never felt more vulnerable. He fell to all fours, a tear in each eye, but still, he couldn’t look away from the basket, from Envy’s neck squirting blood as her heart slowed to its final beats.
I am so sorry, Kat.
“Get him up. Bring him to me.” The assassin obeyed the order. She grabbed him from behind and dead lifted him up onto his dead legs. She struggled to drag him over to the block. Bookstackers' sneer widened. Patricia’s frown deepened. Fuck you.
Cy head-butted the masked woman. She wrapped her arms around him in a chokehold. His brain screamed for blood; he thrashed some more.
"Please don't do this!" He tried to shout but could barely gurgle. "Please, S—"
Cy locked eyes with a man that split through the crowd.
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73
BONUS CONTENT BELOW
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Books of Salvatica
Excerpts from 'Factions of Salvatica' by B.S. Snelliott
The Bounty Hunters
An elusive Faction (or Guild, even your illustrious author is not quite sure how far their tendrils reach), the Bounty Hunters are a—potentially fake—group of highly skilled Fighters and Scholars that—ahem—simply put, go out and kidnap others. It is rumored that they have Enchantments that can restrict someone’s usage of Ryoku when bound by them. It is further rumored that leaders of certain Factions hire the Bounty Hunters to kidnap members of other Factions—and get this—that the human themselves are not the target, but the Faction-specific and highly coveted Scripts they possess are. Surely a conspiracy theory, and nothing more, but we found it appropriate to cover them in this volume.