The black flames may help the Leshen Regenerate, but it can’t Regenerate without trees around. The Warg is another problem, though.
Jules used the final ace up his sleeve. While the inferno raged and spread chaos all around, Jules sheathed his katana. He knocked back the sword and the sheath in place of an arrow. Jules shot it at the Warg, and just before it struck, he activated the Inked Art at the base of the blade, etched in his own blood.
? Activate ? ? Fragment ? [?890 // ?10,000]
The blade shattered through the sheathe and created a shrapnel-like impact on the beast. Jules jumped on top of the distracted Leshen and ripped the stone skull off its face, though it was less of a face and more a collection of vines and fungus like the rest of its body.
“GO FOR THE ANTLERS, JULESSSS…”
Jules grabbed one of its antlers and yanked as hard as he could—It snapped after ripping off an entire side from the monster’s head. The black flames died out, and at last it was dead. The rush of all his power flooded into him for but an instant. No, even more. Significantly more…the power of hundreds, maybe thousands of me.
The antlers burned away the moss and fungus around the antler until the wooden bone structure underneath was all that remained, in the shape of a rough wooden sword.
[Item: A wooden stick.]
Darkness spread from Jules' pupils to the edges of his eyes until his eyes were blacker than Ink. Time froze, and a vision appeared before him.
A frail, sickly woman. White robes, tattered at the edges. Long wisps of thread that fall far below her hands, like thread from a spider’s web. Thin, sickly gray skin. Can’t see her face, covered by a white hood. Looking up. At me? Eyes opened—pure black. Nothing behind them. No life, no hopes. No dreams…
Jules returned to the Shrine. A dream within a dream? Jules clenched the Vessel in his right hand. He felt none of the surging power from before. It had all faded away, and his eyes felt normal again. The Leshen smoldered to black ash.
“THE WARG STILL HAS OUR POWER. YOU CANNOT USE THE SOUND UNTIL IT IS RETURNED.”
The voice came from inside his own head now, rather than the Leshen. “How do I do that?” And why the Hell am I trusting you?
“GIVE ME CONTROL, AND I WILL SHOW YOU.”
“Nah, I’ll just kill it.” The Warg rose, healed enough from the shrapnel attack.
“THAT WILL PROVE DIFFICULT, AND YOU ARE SHORT ON TIME.”
Jules was weak. He knew it, the Warg knew it. Wrath certainly knew it. Everything depended on one last exchange. The Warg circled him slowly. Wrath showed Jules further visions.
Of his friends and father fighting the Iron Maidens, three-on-four. Of Liam, barging through his childhood home, hugging his wife and newborn. Of Cyrus and Katarina losing their battles. Of the same two, now standing before an executioner’s ax. Of Liam, running away from his friends in need. Of betrayal, of fury. Of Zeke, lifting an executioner’s ax high in the air.
…Of wrath.
Jules closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were flooded black once more.
"Tell me what to do."
“IT IS SIMPLE. JUST OPEN THE DOOR AND LET ME IN.”
“That’s the only way?”
Jules received no response.
“I want you to know, Wrath, that one day I will use the Sound and kill you with your own weapon.”
Jules realized he spoke to no one. Wrath had already retreated from his mind, and now waited, in earnest, behind those doors. He ran to them. The Warg chased him. The sprint took forever. He saw his entire life flash before his eyes, the costs of failure, and the costs sacrificed for the future. Save them. At all costs.
Jules pushed open the door just as the Warg crashed into him. Waiting on the other side for them stood the demon, its serrated teeth lined in a smile. Jules crashed to the cobblestone floor of the jail cell.
Wrath raised an index finger and halted the Warg in its tracks. Black flames sapped away from it into Wrath’s finger, and then into Wrath himself. The beast disintegrated. Jules looked up at the demon, at his mercy.
“You promised to save them.”
“I DID.”
The whirlwind vortex sucked in both Jules and Wrath, destined for Coralhaven.
[Shut the Damn Door — Quest Objective FAILED: Do not open the door.]
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CYRUS
Black eyes… Jules?
The crowd hushed and jumped back from the approaching figure shrouded in darkness and battle-tattered clothes. With his rough wooden sword, he gently brushed people out of his path as he wedged through the crowd. His eyes were coal black, all the way throughout, and wide with the thrill of battle, of adrenaline. Wider than that was his bloodthirsty smile that implied a singular focus: to kill. The edges of his eyes were tinged with small black flames. No…
That’s Jules’ body. But it’s not Jules.
"Wrath has returned." Cy's whisper turned to a shout. “Rukia, Kaizen—Jules is lost!” Cy didn’t know where they were, if they were still with Whiskers, if they could even do anything, but he had to try, to do something. He gripped the assassin’s arm. “Please, we need to leave—That’s not Jules anymore. He’s awake!”
Zeke turned to Wrath and smiled. “Like a moth to a flame.” Bad analogy, you idiot. “Guards, Maidens—Surround him!”
The masked assassin tossed Cy beside Zeke. She and Ragnar leapt off the stage to intercept Jules, Wrath. Dozens of people in the crowd thrust off cloaks, revealing themselves as Guards and what little military personnel were still stationed in Coralhaven. Residents and tourists fled desperately as the Soldiers closed in on him. People fell and were trampled; the sounds of men, women, and children screaming sent shivers down Cy's spine.
Not once did Wrath halt or even slow his approach to acknowledge them. Instead, Wrath pointed at the stage.
“I have come to kill you. Anyone who gets in my way will be granted a most glorious death.”
The assault force charged Wrath, who disappeared in a flash. He reappeared above Cy and Zeke. The wooden sword ignited into black flames, and Wrath crashed down on them. Zeke dropped the executioner's ax and drew his warhammer.
Golden tendrils sparked from the weapons' impact. Wherever the sparks touched Wrath, they seared away his flesh instantly. Wrath leapt back to Regenerate, faster than Jules was ever capable of. He and Zeke circled each other on stage.
“Holy Magic? You shall perish first.”
Their weapons slammed into each other again. More sparks flew, and only Wrath was damaged in the exchange. He’s enjoying this, like he’s unfazed by the pain. Or so it seems. Zeke connected blow after blow to Wrath’s chest. He caved in the demon’s lungs and heart, but Wrath straightened up with a smile. He’s toying with him...
Zeke slammed his warhammer from straight overhead in a powerful blow. Wrath batted it aside, one-handed with a wooden stick, as if he swatted a fly. With his other hand, Wrath placed his palm on Zeke’s forehead. Wrath’s hand melted away. He inspected the liquified mess.
“Holy Oil as well?”
Zeke swiped his hammer horizontally to implode Wrath’s head, but the blow just turned the demon’s head to the side, though it scalded his skin until bone and viscera peeked through.
“You are well prepared. Tell me, Pastor… Have you met one of the Magi?”
The Magi?
Zeke swung again. Wrath halted it with a bare hand that again melted away.
“Hmm. Perhaps not.”
A projectile assault from below the stage shot Wrath in the back. He whipped his sword around, and a trail of black fire swept through them. The wildfire engulfed everything it touched. The inferno refused to die down and spread toward Cy.
Cy retreated; he crawled backward as far and as quickly as he could. He bumped into the basket that contained Envy’s head. She stared at him blankly.
“Oh, Kat. I’m so sorry… Are you really…?” He looked at the abandoned executioner's ax, and at the damage that Zeke's warhammer did to Wrath, to Jules' body. Please, Kat…
Color returned to Envy's face, and the severed head winked at him. "Cy—run,” she wheezed. The color faded to white again.
“Survive, Kat. I’ll come back for you.” Cy rolled off the edge of the stage opposite of Jules. No, Wrath.
A group of men on stage fought—or tried to fight—Wrath. Cy hopped to his feet and hobbled away. He desperately tried to find a stray weapon to break his chains. People were flung through the air in any direction, all of them on fire. One of them dropped a sword between Cy and his captors, Ragnar and the assassin. Ragnar must have failed to notice as he rushed onto the stage. But the assassin crept toward the sword. Cy leapt onto it, but her foot rested on the blade.
“Eye for an eye,” he said. “I spared your life. Now return me the favor.” They glared at each other, unbroken. She dug her heel into the blade harder, but then she collapsed to the ground, with Ragnar on top of her. In the confusion, Cy wrenched away the sword and sliced the chains first, to free his mobility, though his magic was still restricted by the shackles. He tried to activate an Inked Art to no effect. “Salvos dammit all…”
Wrath fought at least forty people, with Zeke in the midst of it all. Wrath’s fiery sword connected with damn near all of them, and each one fell to the ground to writhe in agony. He’s torturing them. A glorious death, eh?
The assassin struggled to push an unconscious, fiery Ragnar off herself to escape the spreading flames. She looked at him in desperation.
“On your own, now.” Cy fled to an alleyway. Gotta find safety. But is anywhere safe?! I need to find Rukia. Or Liam. Do I run back to the house? What if they’re still in town, though? Shit, what do I do?
“Citizens of Coralhaven!" Zeke spoke to the town, his voice bolstered by a Script. "The time to fight is now! Without the full might of this town, Wrath will kill us all. If you have ever wanted peace in Salvatica, now is the time to join the battle of good and evil!”
As Cy continued his escape, more and more people ran the opposite way, back to the plaza. Mostly men at first, then some older boys, and eventually women. Keegan and Reece, from the orphanage, ran past him, but Cy had to let them go. They’ve made their choice, and I’ve made mine. He scaled the exterior of the Apothecary, the second-highest building in town, beside the bell-tower, which was too close to the chaos. Once up high, he surveyed the town for any sign of a white fox, a black cat, or an old man. Nothing.
Hundreds of people rushed towards the plaza from all directions. Fools, the plaza is in flames. This is going bad, really bad. Even Kat is going to be stuck there for a while. Zeke continued his ranged pleas for help, but his voice was replaced by another. It gave Cy the chills. It was cruel, yet noble.
“Capture the Tideshapers, Liam and Evelyn. They carry a baby girl. Do not let them escape.”
"YOU BASTARD!"
Jules' voice echoed and reverberated all throughout town, and likely into the hills.
A single second passed. Then the black flames receded back to a single point in what sounded like a clap of thunder. The silence that followed made Cy’s ears ring.
Good. They must have killed him. Easier to stop them from kidnapping him than to stop Wrath from rampaging through town.
A bolt of black lightning erupted in the plaza. No, from the plaza. That bolt shot up to the sky, but how?
ENVY
Kat’s eyelids ripped open. Phantom limb pain spread throughout her entire body again, from the neck down. Stars filled her immovable gaze. She tried to gasp, tried to shout, but her lungs and neck were still several feet away. Vision faded to black once more.
Starting to…lose count…
Eyes rolled back into her head, and she died within ten seconds of revival. Kat returned in a few minutes, only to repeat the cycle.
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