Chapter 201 - Flames of the Phoenix

Hump knew something was different with this spell. This level of power wasn’t meant for a wizard—it was beyond him, and that was both thrilling and terrifying.

The pages of his spellbook turned entirely golden, trails of essence spiralling off it and filling the air around Hump. Power surged out of him on waves of essence, carried through the rivers of his body, taking with it all his warmth and strength. The runes on his staff erupted in a golden glow and Hump smelt burning. It shuddered through the wood of his staff, the entire thing fighting to break free of his hand. He threw aside the now empty box in his left and gripped it with both, holding on with all his might. The light in the focus shone brighter, fire bubbling within the crystal.

Hump heard a crack as the focus broke, and then a shrieking jet of gold and white fire exploded forward in a wave of all consuming heat. A phoenix cry echoed loud in Hump’s ears. The air roared as fire leapt forward, the mists of the dungeon essence surrounding Hump burned like flammable gas, trailing back toward the tree.

A red barrier appeared around the trunk, gleaming power shimmering along its surface. It lasted mere moments before the gold rank strength of the phoenix feather, disintegrating beneath the overbearing fire. After that, there was nothing to hold Hump’s spell back. It broke against the tree’s trunk, engulfing it. Where it struck, an eruption of gold and white flames burst from the trunk, spreading out around it. Black smoke exploded, flecks of embers and red essence shining within it and rising into the air.

Hump screamed as the cold of essence overuse pierced through him, yet the heat of his own magic seared at his face and hands as it continued to pour from his staff. With all the strength he had, he turned his staff upward, directing the fire upward so that it trailed up the trunk of the tree. The flames climbed fast and furiously, avoiding only the rift. Hump’s sights were set above it, at the bright red gemstones that shone over the black rift. The pain worsened in his hands as heat bore into his skin, but Hump ignored it, aiming higher until his fires reached the very core of the Tree of Damnation.

Into his fire, he threw his will, the image of the network of trees throughout the city fixed in his mind. Channels of essence that were all connected. Paths that his power could follow. With his intent given, Hump let his magic get to work, believing with every shred of will he had that it would work. That failure wasn’t even an option.

His flame was sucked into the tree, disappearing beneath the surface of the trunk. The red essence that previously pulsed through the tree turned gold and white, the light racing down the trunk and into the roots, disappearing below ground where it would spread. All would burn. Without the trees, even if Anthony’s spell completed, there would be nothing left to connect it to the souls of the people in Sheercliff. Instead, the cries and fires of a phoenix would be felt throughout the city, purifying it of the warlock corruption.

Hump caught his spellbook as it slowly started to lower to the ground, essence fading from its pages. He turned his gaze up toward the riftwalker beyond the rift, meeting its white-eyed stare. Fire burned gloriously around it. Above, it spread throughout the canopy, and the gold and white flame filled the sky like a second sun. The tree’s strength dwindled; the dungeon essence in the air started to fade, the channels of Anthony’s formation narrowed and eventually blinked out. Then slowly, the rift started to shrink.

Despite his exhaustion, Hump didn’t take his eyes from the riftwalker. He wanted to watch as its doorway closed, sealing it back inside whatever realm held it.

Only when it was completely gone did Hump let himself go. He fell to his knees, gripping his staff just to remain upright, panting for breath. His staff collapsed under his weight, splitting in two at the centre and sending Hump tumbling forward. He caught himself and on is hands and knees and stared at the remains of his staff in shock. The focus was cracked and faded, the wood burnt and splintered. Despite the situation, for a moment he couldn’t help but grieve the loss of such an heirloom. Hundreds of years of shared history destroyed by his own hands.

Hump cringed inwardly as he felt a touch on his soul, drawing his attention back to the present. He was far from out of danger yet. The gorger’s slivering fragment was almost indistinguishable from the cold of essence overuse, yet Hump felt its probe. A touch of ice filled with wrongness. He pushed it back. So long as he remained steadfast, it could do nothing to him. More pressing was the encroaching and likely very angry warlocks.

He forced himself to his feet. It was nearly twilight now, the sun had almost set and the sky was a dark blue, the stars just starting to become visible. Nearby, the rest of his party came to stand around him, other than Celaine who remained on the balcony above. Around them, the plant-puppeted dead had fallen to the ground and no longer moved, the tree’s magic gone from them.

“You did it, Hump,” Emilia said excitedly. “The essence is clearing. The warlock formation is broken!”

Hump struggled to share in her cheer. If Anthony’s plans were truly sabotaged, then there was only one place left for him to go.

“We need to get out of here,” Dylan said.

“Too late!” Celaine shouted from above. “Find cover. They’re already here.”

Hump looked out of the destroyed wall of the House of Stone in time to see devastation approaching. A surge of magic erupted from Anthony atop his stone platform, drawing Hump’s gaze. One moment he was there, the next he was gone, reappearing across the street. Essence exploded around him in a spiralling torrent, pouring from him in his rage. Magic roared, shining thickly in the air, his warlock allies sending their own spells at them too.

Hump tried to stand, but he had nothing left. No essence. No strength. All he could do was gaze into the encroaching magic, four melee combatants charging in beneath the barrage. They’d saved the city from the warlock spell, but the warlocks and monsters would end them now.

Then he felt Dylan’s vines about his waist, dragging him backward through the House of Stone, into the shelter of part of the fallen roof. The room shook. Explosions of essence rained in. Fire, earth, and howling winds tore through the hall. Hump hunched down behind the rubble, shielding his head with his arms. It was as if the end of the world had come. He tried to summon up some shred of essence to form into a Shield before him, but all he felt was pain.

Suddenly, Hump sensed a change. Something that set his hair on end and filled the city with some new power. Anthony must have noticed it too, as he stopped and turned his gaze upward, his eyes widening.

A deep, booming crack shook the city. Not from below this time, but above. Hump looked to the sky where, through the smoke and flames, it was as if the heavens themselves had shattered, the world cracking like glass. Blue light shone radiantly beyond, pressing against it, boring deeper. All at once, a dome over the city shattered with a thunderous explosion, filling the darkening sky with glittering essence that shone brighter than stars.

The onslaught stopped completely now.

“Form up!” Anthony roared. “Around me!”

From the way they moved, it seemed the threat Hump and the others posed had lost its importance. The eyes of everyone in the Upper City turned upward as the blue light streaked toward them like a falling star stone—a light Hump recognised.

The onslaught stopped. The eyes of everyone in the Upper City turned upward as a blue light streaked toward them like a falling star. A light Hump recognised. He’d sensed it when he saw the web of dungeon essence throughout the city. It had been blocked out by the trees, but now it had broken through.

The light struck the ground at the base of the steps outsides the House of Stone, right in front of the warlocks. The ground shook once more, spraying rocks and stone in the air, a wind of essence adding to the howling of the hall. Slowly, the light faded, and Hump watched as three figures emerged from inside.

The figures appeared relaxed as they stood there before thirteen warlocks—warlocks that had brought all of Sheercliff to its knees. Two of them—a man and a woman—wore thick plate armour, every inch of it coated in sophisticated runes, essence rising from them in vibrant streams. They wore white tabards, a three-eyed sigil as its crest. The same three eyes Hump had seen in the ancient temple beneath the waters of Fishers Lake, and the ruins of the Remnant Realm.

But it was the man in the centre that most drew Hump’s gaze. He appeared middle aged, had brown hair and a beard speckled with grey, and wore grey wizard robes, and wielded an intricately wound wooden staff, with a large focus crystal at its top. The staff was an inch into the ground, a web of cracks formed in the stone-slab floor around it. From it, blue essence kindled within like fire. He’d been the one to cast the spell that brought them to the city.

“You are too late, Starick!” Anthony roared, coming to a stop across from them. “The seal is destroyed.”

“I never thought highly of you,” the man said calmly. “Your greed denigrated our cause.” He turned away as if disgusted at the sight of Anthony, looking toward the ruined city. “I’m glad to be proven right.”

Anthony smiled tightly. “You’re still as arrogant as ever, even as you stare out over your failure.”

His power filled the air around him, a dozen gleaming red blades manifested at his side. His cold expression was gone now, replaced with a furious contortion of a human face. He was losing control in his rage and putting a piece of the twisted soul Hump had seen on display for all.

Starick turned back to Anthony. “Look at yourself. Look at what you’ve become. You’ve lost yourself to your greed, yet you speak of my failure. You disgust me. Is this the freedom you’re looking for?” He held up his hands toward the city. “Do you think you’ve set these people free?”

“A price had to be paid,” Anthony said. “Events are already in motion, you know you cannot stop them. The time for change has come.”

“It is not today,” Starick said. “The Three Eyes are already on their way, we are but the first. You risk it all with your actions here.”

There was something about the tone of his voice that made Hump feel afraid. That was no simple threat, yet Anthony’s face seemed to relax. His fury turned to a smile—the same cold smile he’d worn throughout the day. Hump had comprehended little of what the two spoke of, but he recognised that sigil. The Three Eyes had to be wizards—remnants of those that built the temples he’d seen before. And it seemed they knew of Anthony and whatever these seals were.

“Yes, I suppose I do. And that may be my price to pay.”

Anthony swung his sword forward, a dozen ruby red blades sweeping through the air toward the three figures.

Starick flicked his staff at the incoming blades, force emanating from it. He said nothing. Hump didn’t even sense his essence until it erupted, pouring forward with the force of a hurricane. Hump stared, stunned. He’d never seen a Chosen or practitioner with power like that. He effortlessly parried Anthony’s attack, destroying his blades of blood and sending the dissipated shards of essence scattering into the air.

And then the fight was on. Starick flourished his staff overhead, stars glimmering in the air along the focus’ path. Glimmering shards of densely packed essence floated forward, and this time Anthony was forced onto the defence, a barrier of blood rising around him. The shards exploded against it, the force shaking the House of Stone, and burning through the bloodied wall. Anthony charged out of it in a blur, appearing through the smoke left behind like a wraith, his own sword gleaming red in his hand. Around him, the other warlock practitioners charged forward, and the ranged fighters launched their own attack.

Starick’s companions joined the fray, the two warriors stepping forward on either side of him, bastions against the incoming attacks. Magic flared so strongly Hump could only duck back behind the rubble. Above, the roof was crumbling as the fire burning the Tree of Damnation spread, sending parts of the roof down toward Hump. A slab hit the ground beside him, and despite his exhaustion, Hump knew he had to move.

He searched for a place to take shelter, spotting the small offices along the back wall, behind where the reception desk had been. The fifteen feet distance felt much further with such powerful magic flying around, but he knew he couldn’t wait. Standing, he raised across the room. He felt an explosion of pain in his back side but didn’t slow, throwing himself inside the closest room and pressing himself up against the interior wall, breathing heavily.

He winced as he turned to inspect the damage, the pain too much for him to turn. Touching the area, his hand came away clean—no blood at least. His battle robe must have taken the worst of the impact.

He ducked his head, shrinking up as another blast sent the whole hall shuddering. He felt naked without his staff. Worse, he was completely out of strength. Opening his pouch, he searched inside for the essence elixir from the Daston Vault, taking the small vial out and uncorking it. He downed the vibrant blue liquid, and it trickled like warm honey down his throat. Gasping, he enjoyed the moment of reprieve from the cold of essence overuse. It wasn’t much, but at least he felt a little essence in his channels once more.

“Sir Roderick is coming!” Bud shouted from the hall. Hump peaked his head out to see the giant of a man closing in behind where Anthony and Starick fought, his golden armour shining over the battlefield like a halo. Watching the fight, however, Hump wasn’t sure the Three Eyed warriors needed the help. Whoever these new arrivals were, they were powerful enough to hold their ground against the thirteen warlocks.

Only Anthony was gaining ground. The man seemed stronger than all of them combined, which was saying something after the magic the man had pulled off that day. He couldn’t be at full strength.

Hump searched for his party members, spotting Bud, Emilia, and Corvin to the far right, over toward where the doors they’d entered the main hall from were. Dylan and Celaine were both out of sight, which likely meant they’d found shelter on the floor above.

Hump pulled himself back inside, trying to calm his racing heart. He placed the empty vial of essence elixir to his side and checked on his egg. It felt warm to the touch—far warmer than he’d ever felt it even.

“We’ll make it through this,” he whispered. He almost jumped as he felt a thump inside the shell. He stared at it. It had never done that before. “No. You’re not going to hatch here, are you?”

Then Hump heard a tap in the room with him. His heart skipped a beat as he looked around, checking the floor and ceiling for any monsters they might have missed, searching the shadows in horror. He called what little essence he’d recovered, the cold searing inside him, but he ignored it. He saw nothing. The small room was empty but for overturned tables and chairs. Yet he’d heard something.

Just shrapnel, he told himself, but his gut told him otherwise. Gods, he wished he had some strength left, and his staff. His master wouldn’t believe he’d managed to break it in only a year after it had lasted for hundreds.

Just as Hump felt himself calming, he felt a stir in the air, like a zephyr on his face. So slight, it was almost unnoticeable. His eyes widened at the shimmer before him, and then he felt hands on either side of his face.

“Shhh,” came a soft voice. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

“Eliana—” Hump managed to say.

Essence pierced his mind like daggers. He opened his mouth in a scream but heard nothing. Her power flooded into him, and suddenly, he was back in the dark dungeon of the gorger, the beast of his nightmares before him.