B4 Chapter 512: Mop Up, pt. 1

Niles stared at the skills that had been offered to him, grappling with what he was seeing. Sepulchre Attunement? He had no clue what an Attunement skill was — but if it was the reason it felt like his bones were splintering inside of him, he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing.

The other, Gravestrike, must have been what he did with his blade. Some weapon enhancement Skill with a sepulchre affinity, most likely.

Feeling his heart squeeze in his chest, Niles’ mind raced. Whatever he’d done had left its damage. It was building even now, a slow degradation that gnawed within him. Would the Attunement skill fix it? He only had two skill slots left — if he took it, he’d never get the chance to take Identify.

But if he rejected it, would he ever see it again? Would he even live?

White-hot pain ripped through his chest, stealing away his breath. Niles staggered, feeling the inexorable touch of mana within him build.

He had to make a choice, now — before it was taken from him. He’d have to head for the healers afterwards.

Not that we have any worth mentioning — barely more than midwives and those with a few first aid Skills. It was a bitter thought; every true healer was above, supporting the defence of the city.

An explosion ripped through the dome before he could commit to a path. Niles snapped to the sound. It had come from one of the breached tunnels. Was it some fresh hell the gods had sent to torment them further?

All hints to the source of the noise were shielded by an eruption of ichor. It was a deluge of slaughter, hundreds of grubs liquified instantly as their viscera was ejected in every direction.

Mere moments later, a figure burst through the wall of liquified beasts, raking through a swathe of creatures with a sword that seemed to melt into the very air. Their motion was impossible to track — all Niles could follow was the evidence of their passing. Where they went, they left only the dead.

Niles blinked — was he imagining things? Had the mana sickness within him caused some sort of delirium? Surely not, it hadn’t even been half a minute.

Whoever the bladesman was, they were strong. Blue light flashed again and again, tracing the arcs of their strange sword as layered cracks ripped through the dome. Every detonation was joined by a brighter flash; the light revealed only splattered beasts as it faded.

Who were they? It wasn’t the guildmaster, nor the strange bone-armoured man from Grandbrook. Had other Golds arrived to relieve their siege? Niles couldn’t think of any other explanation. Not with how fast; how totally the sole figure was tearing through the beasts.

Frowning, Niles tried to focus through the throbbing pulse in his head. Gods, it was so bloody hard to think. He needed to get to the healers, and see if they could figure out what happened to him.

Something kept him rooted in place. It was the Gold’s movements. Swift as they were, he caught almost nothing — but there was something about it that was undeniably familiar. An impossibility that held him in place despite the fact that it felt like the hard stone floor was swaying beneath his feet.

Behind the swordsman, Niles caught sight of something that made him blink. A cloud of autumn leaves, howling on a nonexistent wind. They tore out of one of the breached tunnels like they were carried by a hurricane.

Now he was definitely sure he was seeing things.

Niles planted his blade on the stone ground, leaning on its hilt to keep upright.

“Kid?” a distant voice asked.

He barely heard them, focused on the swirling leaves. Others in the crowd were pointing at them — maybe they did really exist?

Swooping low, the leaves came to a swirling halt just in front of the front line of defenders. Sweeping in, they swirled into a tight, obscuring spiral.

Niles blinked again, listing to the side before he caught himself. Someone steadied him.

The leaves vanished, replaced by a woman. She held a bow almost as tall as she was, with an arrow already by her cheek.

He felt the twang of her bow — a concussive crack that washed over him as her projectile ripped towards the grubs.

The arrow seemed to fracture mid-flight, and the beasts simply…vanished. An entire section, gone; replaced by a carpet of pulped flesh.

Frowning, Niles struggled to focus through his blurry eyes.

“Hey, something’s wrong with him! I can’t see any bites, but…”

The voice smeared into meaningless noise.

Was the woman a little blue? He’d thought she was just pale at first, but against the sea of yellow grubs, he was certain that her skin had a blue tinge to it.

Recognition cut through his pain and exhaustion. Kenva.

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His eyes widened in shock. Whipping his head over so fast the room spun, he stared at the swordsman who was ripping back and forth across the dome. He saw. The glow of magic seeping from the slits in their visor, and wafting from their sabatons. The faint impression of scalemail. The bloody blade that seemed more like a thing of smoke and vapour than cutting steel.

Oh good. They were saved.

Niles collapsed, overwhelmed by the creeping touch of sepulchre mana that had been building within him.

….