Chapter 249 – The Last Leg

“Move back,” Feng shouted, terrified, and Jei moved back along with the carvaneers. She was also terrified, but she was better at not showing it. Mirian and the strange Persaman necromancer she’d found stood before the emperor tree. Were they fools? Or did they simply not know what kind of myrvite they were facing?

She still couldn’t believe this was Mirian. Mirian, who she’d known for four years. The shy girl who was always doubting herself. The one who had only been allowed to advance as a sixth year because artificers were allowed to hit a lower minimum myr rating than other arcanists. The sweet girl who reminded Jei of her sister—or what her sister could have been, if not for the accident.

Sometimes, she doubted this was Mirian, because while she looked the same, she acted so different. Then she would look at Jei, her gaze softening with nostalgia, and she would see something of the student she knew. Or rather, had known.

Jei placed herself behind a tree trunk, one hand on a marusaur, the other holding her orb. Her auric mana was bare enough she could barely sense it, but she still might be able to manage a single spell.

Gabriel ducked behind a tree near her, swearing in at least two languages, probably three.

As Jei felt the ambient mana around them shift ominously, she repeated her mantra.

Your death does not matter. All that matters is how you might affect the future.

Mirian had told her she’d spent entire cycles dedicating herself to her former student. Before her was the result.

The emperor tree’s branches began to move. Vines shot down to grab at the three fighters. While Ibrahim cut two away in rapid strikes, Mirian burned away a dozen, sending out blinding rays of fire and force blades. Whatever the necromancer was doing, she had no idea. She still didn’t trust the man, but it was clear Mirian did.

Trust, she repeated to herself. You will not be able to see the whole equation. Trust that she will.

Dozens more vines wilted, blackening before they could reach the three.

There was a groan as the earth trembled. Jei looked down. “Back! Farther back!” she shouted.

Spiked roots erupted out of the ground, just as the emperor tree began to rain down thick needles the size of an arm. Grotesque appendages erupted from the trunk as the ‘tree’ lifted itself up. She glanced back. Mirian had put up some sort of barrier that stretched for a dozen meters and was catching the needles. Then the needles began to explode, bursting into a thick white gas and spiked chunks of matter.

Jei stopped, unsure of what to do. She couldn’t see Mirian anymore. But what could she do against something like that? Her aura was nearly depleted. She might be able to stop a single needle or root.

Your death does not matter. All that matters is how you might affect the future.

She did what she could.

As another spiked root burst from the ground beneath where she thought Mirian might be, she shot a searing beam at the base. It cut the root, and the chunk fell to the ground. Then, that was it. She was empty.

Meanwhile, the world around them had become chaos. The white cloud condensed and swirled into an orb, which then burned away. Mirian reemerged, spells erupting from her like a storm. Lightning flashed and thunder roared, and for a moment, she was blind and deaf, ears ringing. As they moved back further, entire trees toppled, spells snapping them like they were sticks. The ground trembled again and again.

The emperor tree had become like a thousand-limbed beast, branches woven into needles, vines into arms. They smashed against Mirian and Atrah, moving ever closer to them with strange root-feet. Again, the canopy burst into a storm of needles and the two of them disappeared, only for them to appear a moment later in bursts of fire and lightning that flung back the emperor tree. Vines and branches wilted and fell, only to be replaced by new ones that thrashed through the air at them.

Ibrahim came flying across the jungle, smashing hard enough into the ground that he left a trail of churned earth. Jei thought he was dead for sure, but then he grunted and stood up. “Five hells,” he muttered. Seeing Jei, he jerked his head. “Farther back,” he said.

The earth shook again, and more trees toppled. Then the trunks exploded. Suddenly, Ibrahim was in front of Jei. When he turned, she realized he was covered in wooden splinters the size of pens. He didn’t curse, didn’t even wince. “Move,” he commanded.

Jei moved, scrambling over a fallen log and then running another dozen meters.

There was an unearthly scream from the emperor tree, one that didn’t just tear at her ears, but her mind, and she couldn’t help but look again. Immediately, she had to cover her eyes from the brightness. The forest floor, usually dark, was lit up like the sun was behind them. Behind her, the entire area near the emperor tree was full of such powerful spells detonating that it was impossible for her to tell what was going on. And that was only what she could see. She knew another battle was being fought at the level of the soul, with necromancy and celestial magic clashing in equally titanic spells.

Ibrahim stood near her, eyes glued to the fight, picking more splinters out of himself, ignoring how much blood was coming out.

Then, there was a flash of light and waves of heat. A colossal pillar of fire came down. Through it, Jei could see the silhouettes of two figures.

Ibrahim took in a sharp breath. “There’s that fire again,” he said.

The burning light intensified. More heat poured over them, and then—it was gone.

The world was still. Her ears still rang, and she still saw spots when she blinked, but it was over.

Jei’s heart hammered in her chest.

Two figures remained in the air, descending down towards them. Both were unmarred by flame. The necromancer levitated with a casualness that was intimidating, and a bored look, like he’d just returned from giving a routine lecture. Mirian had a subtle smile on her face. A look of triumph. She looked down at Jei and Ibrahim, her spellbook in front of her, her eyes blazing silver. She raised a hand, and the splinters in Ibrahim came to it, then dropped to the ground. Then, light washed over him, and his wounds sealed. All around them, she realized, wounds were being healed. Without even looking, Miran rearranged the trees behind her that had crashed to block the path. She slid them around like a child playing with blocks, and the road was open again, now lined by a wall of trunks.

“Feng, gather the caravan,” she said. “The emperor tree is dead.”

Feng, who had been hiding behind a mound of dirt, stood. As he walked by Jei, she heard him whisper, “She is Sun Shuen come again.”

Jei no longer knew what to think. Mirian had become something so far beyond her that it seemed impossible to reconcile her with the promising student she’d known. She swallowed, and took her place back in the line.

You will not be able to see the whole equation. Trust that she will, she repeated.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

She hoped that it was true.

*** ***** ***

Mirian looked over the casualties. Two dead marusaurs, but all the people had escaped with only broken bones and lacerations, which she’d healed. She glanced at her father. “Feng, do you want the dead marusaurs brought back?”

Feng looked at her, stunned, then looked at the two dead animals. “What do you mean? It would be silly to bring back Plum and Peony. They’re… dead. That’s what happens… best to take the bags and leave—”

“I have their souls stabilized for the moment,” the arch-necromancer said. “Would you rather see them alive, or would you like to mourn and move on? The choice is yours.”

Feng looked at the group, then swallowed. There were tears in his eyes. The marusaurs were his good companions. Raised and trained since they were hatchlings. He wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. He gave the faintest nod.

“Very well,” her father said, and began to cast.

Mirian watched, studying her father’s technique, helping where she could. This is good, she thought. Enough power and awe, and you can cut through the social taboos that are holding people back.

She looked at Ibrahim. His expression was intense, his gaze fixed on the marusaurs as Gaius worked. She could see the emotions churning in him, powerful enough that they were causing distortions in his soul.