038 – End of Book 1

For all those death notifications, Erick had only gained one level.

That felt appropriate.

Jane said, “Dad. Speak to me.”

Erick was still inside the temple. The battle was over, and people had arrived to see and speak to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to say more than a few words.

He said, “What.”

“I’m worried, Dad.”

Joylessly, Erick said, “Hi Worried, I’m Dad.”

“You’ve said that joke twice, now. Last time I was ‘Concerned’. I’m still concerned, but also worried.”

“You’re a lot of people.”

Silverite stepped into view. “I want you to [Withering] Spur. All of it. From the sewer to the towers.”

Erick snapped to attention. He screamed, “FUCK YOU! I’M NOT KILLING ANYONE ELSE!”

[Teleport].

Erick landed in the sand, seven hundred kilometers north of where he was, the max distance his [Teleport 7] could take him. He looked around. Nothing near him. All the crystal agaves were real ones; not mimics.

No. Wait. That one was a mimic.

Erick lifted into the air with his Handy Aura, [Stoneshape]d a clump of sand into a stone, then cast [Weather Ward] on that stone. He floated high above the immobile mimic, then dropped the stone. The mimic was now inside of a faintly white, glittering [Weather Ward]. It twitched toward the stone, but stopped, slowly returning to ‘hiding’.

Erick dropped a [Withering] directly beside the mimic, putting himself and the monster in the sphere of the spell’s influence.

Nothing happened to either of them.

The [Weather Ward] stopped the [Withering], exactly how Erick had intended. Erick waited the [Withering] out, watching as the magic dissipated from the air. He flew down close enough to cancel the [Weather Ward] on the stone, then flew away to find a clear spot to land, well away from everything else. The mimic did not move to follow, or do anything else, besides pretend to be a crystal agave.

Once Erick was sure he was safe in the middle of nowhere, he set down on the sand and had a great big cry. Bawling, snot nosed, horrific and nasty. Tears flowed and everything hurt. The tears stopped, but only for a little while, then they started again; more tears, more pain. He laid back on the dirt, staring at the sky, letting his tears flow freely down the sides of his face.

He Rested with Meditation, feeling the ocean of mana above him, watching the currents, and watching for [Scry] eyes. There were lots of currents, but no eyes. No giant shadow, either. He hadn’t seen that thing in several days.

When everything started to hurt less, ten, twenty minutes later, he breathed, he [Cleanse]d, he stood up. He Handy Aura’d into the air, then he [Teleport]ed back, into the air above the farms.

Silverite, Mog, Poi, and Jane were still there at the temple, waiting for him. Everyone else was gone; off to wherever they needed to be.

Erick set down between the metal statue of Rozeta and the stone statue of Koyabez.

Silverite walked toward him. Mog stayed behind at the temple with Jane.

Erick breathed.

Silverite waited.

Erick said, “I am ready to flush out Spur.”

Silverite nodded, saying, “Thank you, Archmage.”

“Of course, Mayor.”

“I have already spoken to the people, the doctors, and the priests. Everyone who thinks they might have intestinal rads has been located and secured. [Weather Ward]s have been provided for anyone who is wary, or the people have provided their own. Spur is ready.”

“I have just confirmed with a bit of experimenting out in the Forest that, yes, [Weather Ward]s do block [Withering]. So if you give me the order, I will [Withering] Spur, right now.”

Silverite said, “Then you have your order. Do it, Archmage.”

Erick nodded. He took to the skies, flying above the walls of Spur, above the people. They watched him fly overhead; some of them ducked into [Wards], some stood out in the open, cheering. Some scrambled under cover, hiding as Erick flew overhead. He raised his head and looked forward as he flew toward a central tower, the same one he had struck with lightning weeks ago. The tower still bore the black marks from his lightning; it was still uninhabited and half dilapidated, too, one wall gone, one wall collapsed, the roof looking like it had never been there in the first place.

He passed the tower, and went down to a street he had seen in passing, but never really traveled. The usual crowd on the street parted for him. Erick was ashamed that they felt the need to step aside, as he walked toward the public entrance to the sewer.

The sewer entrance was an arch of stone and two guard booths, with five guards out of their booths. The guards on duty must have known he was coming, because they held back a crowd of complaining people who were angry that they were removed from hunting slimes. But as Erick stepped toward the entrance, the crowd went silent.

The sewer entrance ahead was a slow descent into the bowels of the city, 20 feet wide and lined with light orbs. He had never been down there, but he knew enough of the layout to know that there was only one way to do this properly.

Mana Shaping X.

[Withering].

Like an invisible tsunami released, [Withering] flooded through the sewer entrance, racing through the dark tunnels underneath the city, floating above the waters, settling against stone, filling in every nook and cranny like some giant intangible slime monster. The spell filled the sewers completely; nigh-invisible [Withering] ooze started to spill upward, through storm drains and up into Spur, through every possible entrance it could find.

Notifications for slimes appeared first.

Shadowolves came second.

Erick looked all around him, judging distance, waiting a few minutes for his mana to get back up to 500.

Mana Shaping X.

[Withering].

Another near-invisible tsunami exploded through Spur, joining the first still oozing up from the sewers. Erick’s second [Withering] filled up the city to the tops of the walls, then climbed up the towers, clinging its thick-aired, intangible self onto every building and across every surface. It washed across [Weather Ward]s, unable to penetrate, but touched everything else.

Shadowolves died.

Two shadowcats perished.

Erick said, “Two shadowcats, eh?”

The crowd around him got a lot quieter.

A guard asked, “Shadowcats, sir?”

“Yeah. Two of them. I’m not sure where, though. People will be finding shadow bodies for days.” Erick roughly counted up the boxes. “Looks like… 20 slimes. I thought they only had small rads in them? Maybe 400 wolves. Hard to tell. Two cats.”

The crowd murmured.

“Four hundred!”

“That’s… a lot.”

“Gods protect us!”

Erick waited.

The spells began to unravel.

The second spell flowed downward, as the first one vanished, slipping into the sewers like so much thick air. Then it, too, began to unravel.

Erick said, “That’s it. No more wolves or cats in Spur, unless someone protected them in a [Weather Ward], or they killed people to get into a [Ward].”

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Erick nodded goodbye to the stunned guards, turned on his Handy Aura, and flew away, across the city, back to his home in the Human District.

Silverite, Jane, Teressa and Rats, were all waiting for him. Poi, who had been following him through the air this whole time, except when Erick had [Teleport]ed away, silently touched down behind him.

Silverite asked, “Final count?”

“20 slimes, 400 to 500 wolves; I’m not counting all those boxes. 2 cats.” He paused, then looked at his previous notifications. “And so, so many wolves in the attack. Thousands. Multiple thousands. And then… 10 giants. Some more Participation than others. Most are at 15%. Two more cats. Two humans.”

Silverite said, “Thank you, Archmage. I would like to call upon you to perform this service occasionally.”

“Of course, Mayor. I’m glad to help.”

She nodded. “Valok would like me to inform you that he has rescheduled the full day of rain for tomorrow. If you are able, the farmers would appreciate your acceptance of their request.”

“Of course, Mayor. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you, Archmage.” She breathed. She said, “Thank you, Erick.”

Erick tried to smile. He couldn’t. He just nodded. “Anytime.”

“If you’d like someone to talk to, my office is always open. I’m not always in there, but someone can find me easily enough.”

Erick remembered something important.

But what Silverite had said was important, too. Erick said, “Thanks, Silverite. I’ll swing by tomorrow— Ah. No. Raining tomorrow.” Erick looked at the ground. He looked up. “I’m going to make some board games and look for players tomorrow, if you want to join me in the temple.”

She smiled, her silver scaled skin flawless perfection; her eyes, also solid silver. She said, “I would like that, very much.” She bowed, “Good day, Erick.”

“Good day, Silverite.”

Silverite walked away, across the flat orange stone of the Human District.

Erick went directly to Jane and wrapped her in his arms. She was stiff for a moment, but then she wasn’t. Silent tears rolled down Erick’s face and touched Jane’s shoulder, soaking into her shirt.