Chapter 204 - One More Warlock

Hump stood over Eliana relishing in his newfound power. He could sense the ensuing battle taking place behind him and finally understood why Anthony went so far. Why Kassius had craved the dragon soul as he had. This… was bliss. He felt indomitable. Fearless. Powerful.

“Look at yourself,” Eliana said between gasps, her eyes fixed on Hump. “You are weak and corrupted by dark forces. You do not deserve the book!”

Hump tilted his head and stared at her, wondering in what twisted world she believed he cared for what she thought. The murderer of his master. The woman that had enthralled Abraxus who tried to have Hump arrested. She called him weak, yet it was she that lay beaten on the ground. Her ambush had failed, her magic had failed, and now he would claim what was his. And he would have his answers.

Hump squatted slowly, relishing in the fear in her bruised eyes. Her nose was bleeding heavily, staining her mouth and chin. He reached for her with one arm and she flinched. Hump smiled slightly, then plucked his spellbook from her clenched hands.

“It is mine,” Hump said again. His voice felt strange even to his own ears, his throat tight and grating. “Mine!”

A surge of power welled in him as he spoke, carried on his rage. He no longer tried to contain it. It flowed from him freely, radiating from his body and descending on Eliana with a crushing force, pressing her harder into the ground. This essence was his, and it had only one intent: kill.

Behind him, explosions of essence stormed through the House of Stone, but Hump didn’t care. He had who he was looking for. The inquisitor whimpered, writing on the floor as she tried to fight it. She called upon her own essence, but Hump destroyed her still forming power with his own. She lost control of her essence and screamed as it blasted back at her.

“How did you do it?” Hump asked. “How did you kill my master?”

“It wasn’t me,” she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“Liar!”

He gripped her by the throat, his fingers crushing. As he came into contact, a jolt ran through him. He sensed something. He sensed her core, her very soul. As suddenly as he realised it, an overwhelming craving came over him. The battling intents within him urged him to kill and claim her essence as his own. To feast on her soul. She screamed as she reached for it, his essence exploding from his hand in streams of purple, bronze, and black.

“Please,” she said. “I was there. But it was not I that ordered it.”

Hump loosened his grip, his desire to find his master’s killer stronger even than his craving for her soul. Eliana collapsed backward, breathing heavily.

“Who?” Hump asked. “Who ordered his death? What is your cult’s name?”

She shook her head. “They’ll kill you. You cannot face them.”

Hump sneered at her arrogance. With this power, he had no limits.

“You have no idea what I can do.”

He gripped her by the ankle, power surging through him. Black and red flame exploded around his hand, searing at her leg. Her screams were dreadful. Deep down, Hump knew that, but strangely he relished in them. It was like music.

“Who?” Hump screamed.

“The Silver Circle,” she screamed.

Hump released his magic, and her breathing steadied a little. A charred handprint marked her calf as he pulled his hand away, her trousers burned below the knee.

“Who are they?”

“We are disciples of Ivish, and the rightful heirs of that book. We are no cult!”

Hump studied her curiously as more details fell into place. If she knew of Ivish, the third owner of his spellbook, then perhaps there was some truth to what she was saying. But there were also details missing. The way Eliana had manipulated Abraxus into coming after Seth’s apprentice. The fact that she was alone now, despite having found the book this ‘order’ was supposedly after.

“They’re not here, are they?” Hump said.

Her eyes widened at what he said, and Hump knew he was right.

“But why frame Vivi in that case?” Hump asked. “You claim you are not a warlock, but were you working for them? Is that why you killed the prisoners?”

“You’re wrong. They will come for you.”

“You’re alone.” Hump laughed. “You wanted the book for yourself, didn’t you?”

“You do not even know what it is you hold!” Eliana snapped. “But I could teach you. Together, we could discover the secrets of the ancient world. We could unlock magic that even gods fear!”

“I do not need you for that.”

Hump reached for her throat once more and she shook her head. Then her eyes flickered to something behind him.

Hump felt an icy wind enter the room. He whirled around, swiping at his new enemy. A fist caught his arm, its grip strong as iron. He felt that same jolt at his touch, his soul bright and stronger than Eliana’s.

“It’s me, Hump.” A voice came. “It’s Bud. Please, you need to stop this. You’re not yourself.”

Hump shook him off, snarling as he swung again, furious that anyone would dare to stand before him. His fist struck an icy helmet. Ice exploded over his hand, coating it and sending a wave of pain through him.

“Argh.” The knight half fell from the force of Hump’s strike. He raised a gauntleted hand to his cheek. “Gods, Hump. It’s me!”

Hump stared at him, recognition coming over him. Bud stood before him, coated in his Armour of Ice.

Bud smiled at Hump through the gap at the centre of his helmet, a knight of steel and ice. “When did you get so damned strong?”

Hump took another step back. His head exploded with pain. The power around him became a storm of discontent.

What am I doing? Hump thought.

Behind Bud, Emilia, Dylan, and Celaine approached. They looked into the room with a mixture of fear and awe on their faces, unable to keep their eyes from the essence that surrounded him, and from Eliana.

Hump turned to the woman, who lay on the floor, beaten, burnt about the leg, her neck bruised from his grip. Tortured.

What have I done?

This wasn’t him. This wasn’t who he wanted to be. The hunger rose in him once more and Hump pushed back. From somewhere deep within, he found the will he needed. His will. His intent. The very essence of his soul and life was burning up around him. It felt like it would burn out if he did not feed.

He screamed, the pain growing as his thoughts turned to resistance. He collapsed to the ground, thrashing on the floor. His skin felt like it was peeling off. He clawed at his throat, gasping for air, a searing heat roaring up inside him. His eyes were wide and full of essence, staining his vision.

Behind him, he heard the hammering of a staff. It beat the ground, coming closer. He managed to look up and see the Three Eyed wizard, Starick, approaching.

Bud stepped before him, his steel-plated boots filling Hump’s gaze. “What do you want?” the knight asked.

To either side of him, the rest of Hump’s party formed up.

The wizard looked at them, then his eyes fell on Hump. “Is this boy the one that released the flames?”

“My question first,” Bud said, hand going to his hilt. “What do you—”

The pain exploded in Hump again, and he couldn’t follow the conversation. His insides were on fire. He forced himself to control his breathing, taking deep, slow breaths, controlling the pain.

When it subsided, Starick was watching him. More specifically, he was looking at the spellbook that had fallen to the floor beside Hump. The man extended an arm toward it, and it flew to his hand. He flicked it open. “Interesting.”

“Give that back!” Hump snarled.

Starick snapped the book shut. “So you can still speak.” He looked at Bud. “If you want your friend to have a chance, I suggest you stand aside. He does not have long.”

“You’ll help him?” Bud asked.

Darkness shadowed the edge of Hump’s vision. He felt his previous strength failing, yet the storm of essence around him only grew. He clawed at the ground, nails scraping stone and tearing up dust.

“A little, but the world does not need more warlocks. Either the boy master’s it now, or I kill him.”

His tone was matter of fact, which only made the statement worse. And Hump knew the man had the strength to back it up. He felt like his head was already on the chopping block, yet still Bud came to his defence.

“You will not lay—”

The wizard extended a hand, freezing him in place. Strange, gurgled gasps escaped Bud, but he couldn’t get out a word.

“Release him,” Celaine snapped. An arrow was on her bow immediately, Dylan’s vines sprouted around him, Emilia rapier gleamed with red essence.

“None shall interfere,” Starick commanded, hammering his staff against the ground. The world responded, a wind blasting everyone back. “Fena, Torrin, if another person moves, remove them all.”

The two armoured practitioners gave their affirmations. Hump’s party returned to their feet, collecting their weapons. They watched the wizard cautiously as he stepped past Bud and approached.

Kneeling, he placed Hump’s spellbook beside him. Hump gritted his teeth, furious that he would dare touch it, and at the way he loomed over him. The man placed the fingers of his empty left hand on Hump’s forehead, and a surge of warmth poured in.

“Be at peace.”

Hump let out a shaky breath, the pain diminishing, his anger receding. His muscles relaxed and the storm inside his channels settled, the burning of his soul slowing down. For a moment, he felt like himself again.

He looked up at Starick feeling exhausted. This close, he could see the pale blue of his eyes. They were old—ancient even. When Hump had looked into Countess Daston’s eyes he saw wisdom, but in this man, he saw tiredness.

“What do you want me to do?” Hump rasped.

“You have more than one monster living in you, boy, and they want control. You either defeat them now, or I must put you down.”

Hump detected no anger in his tone. It was simple truth. Either he overcame the warlock side of himself, or he fell to it. He’d heard tales of the fate of many fallen wizards and knew he didn’t want to become one. He did not want to lose himself to his essence, and he certainly didn’t want to be executed by this wizard.

“How?”

“You already have the technique,” the man said. “A river, not a flood. Control the flow of power within you. You must be the master, or it shall consume you. They are yours, and now you must claim them.”

He was speaking of the River and Waves technique.

A river, not a flood, Hump reiterated in his mind, envisioning the many channels in his body, and the rampaging waves that threatened to tear them open. Essence continued to leak from him, piercing his channels in places, bursting out of his body. The dragon roared in his veins. The gorger’s icy tendrils delved deeper. He felt himself pulling apart, yet somehow he was supposed to control this?

He could sense them like leeches on his soul. It reminded of Anthony’s core when he’d seen its essence form amongst the web of trees—a black mass of corrupted souls. He’d consumed so many, Hump couldn’t even recognise it as human. He would not be like that. He would not be a slave to other powers or lose his mind and humanity.

Their power poured through him so fast it was only a matter of time before there were no channels left to contain them. His soul would be corrupted, twisted, and there would be no turning back.

There was only one thing he could think to do. He breathed deeply and begun to cycle his power, a little bit at a time. If he couldn’t control the entire flood, then he would start small. The waves fought against him, raging in all directions. He could feel their intents fighting him but with every shred of will he had, he forced them to conform. Bit by bit, he added essence to his cycle. The dragon imprint made it easier, coming to him willingly, aiding him with its strength. In contrast, Hump felt the gorger’s terrified scream within him as Hump siphoned its power, finally giving it a chance to experience the horror it had inflicted on others.

The essence in the air responded as the cycle grew strong. The storm steadied, a flow forming in the room until essence spiralled around him in its multi-coloured pattern—the power of a dragon, gorger, phoenix, dungeon, and himself slowly integrating into one. He drew it into him, adding it to his channels. It started to feel like his own power, the intent of the essence weakening. The effect was exponential, the more he absorbed, the stronger his intent. And eventually, the tide flowed in a single direction. The waves had ceased, and now there was simply a river of essence through his body.

There was just one step left. Even if he controlled them, they were still imprints on his soul. It was only a matter of time before they corrupted each other.

They are yours, and now you must claim them.

The imprints had to go. The gorger had once forged his soul in its magic, now he would do so again. Either he would absorb their magic and reign it in with his intent, or he would lose himself to them.