Ar'Kendrithyst

Erick lay in bed, thinking, for two hours. And then it was time to get up. Two hours was enough rest, though.

Once he decided to get up, the next morning started rapidly. Toast, jam, the addition of peanut butter and peanuts to the list of things to reinvent, and a quick cup of coftea, was all that Erick needed for breakfast. In the middle of all that, he sent a message to Apogee, asking for some time to talk.

But according to his son, Fork, the former Guildmaster of the Wayfarer’s Guild was out of town. And then, a small conversation with Fork, the current Guildmaster of the Wayfarer’s Guild, turned into talk of [Gate]. Erick let slip that he remade quite a few [Teleport] spells, so Fork insisted on meeting, as soon as possible. From there, it ballooned into a whole thing. Erick had too many things to do to be trapped by talk of [Gate] right now, but he gave Fork some of his time, and thus, he found himself in the meeting room of the Wayfarer’s Guild, handing their little black book back to his three [Gate] co-conspirators: Rexarix, the incani from the Wasteland Kingdoms, Fieldsmith of the Greensoil Republic, and Fork, of Spur.

Rexarix beamed, as he said, “You remade them all in under a month—”

“Under a week!” Fieldsmith laughed, as he looked to Ophiel, on Erick’s shoulder. “Your [Familiar] sure is something!”

Ophiel trilled in contented violins; yes, he certainly was awesome, alright.

Fork asked, “Can we please see the [Gate] quest?”

Erick popped out the blue box, handing each of them a copy, as he said, “I’m not sure what the Worldly Path is, but I’d imagine it’s about traveling the world?”

Rexarix marveled at the blue box, saying, “If Everlin Etherspray would have lived past the death of all Halves, then she could have told us what it meant. According to popular theory, she was slated to give all her secrets to her apprentices, but that never happened.”

“What my colleague failed to say is that we have no idea what ‘The Worldly Path’ actually means.” Fieldsmith said, “No one has been able to figure it out, and rarer are the people who actually manage to unlock the Quest, itself. Do you have any ideas?”

Erick offered, “Traveling the world with companions? Showing others the sights out there? Spatial Magic seems all about stretching possibility out into two different spots, so I’d imagine [Gate] has something to do with transforming an area into being capable of automatically transforming the possibility of all people entering the area.” He said, “Honestly, I have been swamped with a lot of responsibilities. I haven’t gotten a chance to try it out. And speaking of responsibilities, do any of you three know how to lock down someone from [Teleport]ing? From casting any Spatial magic? I need to know to stop Shades from being able to run away.” He looked to Fork, saying, “That’s why I needed to speak to your father.”

The atmosphere of the room changed, dramatically. From jovial and open, to cold and closed.

Rexarix said, “I have heard that there is trouble brewing. Bend, of the Kingdoms, formally offers you sanctuary if you should need to run.”

Fieldsmith shot the incani a deadly look. Then he softened, saying, “Surely a more neutral option—”

“Yes yes.” Rexarix said, “I apologize. If there is a more neutral option, then by all means.”

Erick said, “What I would prefer, is for the Wayfarers to sign on to defend Spur, when the time comes.”

Fork said, “I am already promised to the defense of my home town, as our branch is here. We will hold the line, whenever we are needed, in accordance with the duty of all citizens of any major city, and especially of Spur.” He continued to say something, but another voice cut in.

The day instantly went from trying to horrific.

Poi sent, ‘Ballooning Spiders arefalling on Candlepoint. More information is coming, but shadelings are already dying due to scouting spiders, and automatons are killing anyone who fights the spiders. Bulgan is defending the Crystal, and nothing else.’

Erick felt a sudden swell of cold. His heart beat hard, as a chill ripped up his spine. He closed his eyes, and spoke softly, “… Shit.” He forced his emotions down, as he opened his eyes.

The three Guildmasters were looking at him; concerned. Fieldsmith glanced to Poi. He must have seen the tendril of thought between Erick and Poi.

Erick said, “I have to go. There’s an emergency.”

Fork said, “Of cour—”

Erick blipped away, leaving the Guildmasters to their own devices.

- - - -

Erick reappeared in his home, in the library; one of the safest parts of the house for extended Ophiel control. Poi and Ophiel blipped in on the other side of the room, one in a flash of blue, the other in a flash of white and a trill of miffed flute notes at being left behind. Erick apologized for leaving suddenly, as he began summoning more Ophiels.

He sent one of them blipping over to his tower, to grab a specific item from underneath the floor. In another two moments, Erick held a purple crown in his hands. It was a weighty thing, made of twisted iron and three void-dark octahedral diamonds, each the size of a small fist. Purple lightmasks covered each gem, ensuring that the only light to get inside was attuned to every conventional Stat. Erick took off his rings so they wouldn’t explode, and put on the crown. Plus 213 All-Stats. Slightly more than the 210 it had been before.

That was odd, but there was no time to investigate that oddity. Erick looked to Poi.

With a dozen lines of intent coming off of his head, Poi looked away, saying, “Spur is on alert for a counterattack. You’re cleared for engagement.” He turned to Erick. “We want Bulgan dead, too, sir. If it looks like you can do it, then do it.”

Right. Erick had almost forgotten that he wasn’t the only one Bulgan had wronged. The Shade had apparently been killing humans inside Ar’Kendrithyst and working with Tania Webwalker, Melemizargo’s Champion, for a long while. Years, perhaps.

Erick continued to summon Ophiels, quickly reaching his maximum. With over 8000 mana to begin with, 9 more Ophiel only cost him most of his original mana pool. With his crown-improved Stats, he had over 17,000 maximum mana. Each Ophiel he summoned, while wearing the crown, would have that much effective Health, too, along with his near 76,000 Mana Regen per day, but only if they were Resting.

With a directed thought, nine of his Ophiel, all tiny with fluffy white feathers and bright eyes, blipped away in white flashes, to positions outside of Spur, over the sand. Stone raised from the sand, forming [Teleporting Platform]s under each Ophiel. Each [Familiar] then expended most of themselves, 15,000 mana each, in order to create 90,000 point [Prismatic Ward]s over each platform.

Ophiel would be easy to [Dispel] if he were on his own, but [Ward]s had to be destroyed, or [Dispel]ed on a 1 point of defense per 1 point of [Dispel] basis. Erick smirked to himself. Let’s see how Bulgan dealt with that. 90,000 points of [Solid Ward] was massive!

- - - -

Over a shadowy city laden with rainbow light, wide awake in the minutes before the dawn, there were no clouds of water as there had been for the last week, but instead, threads of spidersilk adorned the twilight above. Perfectly straight, those threads tangled on no errant winds, for the winds were controlled. Spider silk drifted forward, riding the prevalent breeze toward the target.

Many-legged monsters, with many eyes and many minds, spun those threads into the breeze, and casting in concert, flowed toward the shadowy city. There were some complications in the attack, but they were accounted for.

A spike of crystal rose from the center of their greater target. The first waves of scouts had determined with their lives that the crystal spike was like the crystal city far to the east; a target of last resort, and laden with defenders more than capable of ending an invasion. But below that crystal spike! Oh, the bounty! The squishy bipeds in the dark buildings were slippery, but they tasted fantastic. So much nutrition! Some had even been wrapped in bundles and already spirited away below. They didn’t even fight back.

This place was primed for feasting, and the Horde was ravenous.

—The air shifted as white flashes disturbed the descent.

Oh? Birds? Birds dare to try the Horde? Or...

Not birds? No!

The many winged, with eyes to rival our own! The Hated! The Horde had heard about them! They were worse than the crystal maws on the sands. Retreat! Retreat! Run a—

An orb of bright darkness flickered at the tip of the crystal, in the center of the city.

- - - -

Ophiel fluttered into position, between most of the oncoming horde and Candlepoint.

Through a hundred different vantage points, Erick saw a hundred different things. Shadelings died in the streets below, either from spiders as they tried to defend themselves, or from automatons as the shadelings tried to defend themselves, but they weren’t allowed to defend themselves from anyone, or anything. Adventurers in the city rushed to save themselves, and some shadelings in the process, killing spiders and automatons with flashes of swordplay or spellwork, earning the ire of both the many-legged monsters and the animated armors.

For a brief moment, Erick watched as a pair of guards turned to shadow to get away from the greatswords of a pair of automatons, only to run into the fangs of an orcol-sized spider. One guard was killed and devoured on the spot. The other seemed to fly, uncontrolled, into wrapping threads, turning from person into a bundle of white silk in seconds.

Everywhere, spiders captured people, and rushed into the ground, burrowing holes in fractions of seconds, pulling still-living cargo into the depths below.

But the worst part was that spiders, under the control of the mother spiders, were all invisible, and working in concert, under expertly controlled hive minds. Erick had to infer what he was seeing when he looked upon Candlepoint. For what he actually saw was people suddenly sprouting blood, so a spider must have gotten them. People tripped on nothing, and were ripped into cocoons. Some shadelings slipped away in shadows, running as best they could, but then they stopped for some reason, and fell down, paralyzed or dead or dying. Spiders were inside the shadows, too. They were everywhere.

The dark crystal in the center of town, the Crystal, where people traded darkchips for treasure, was the only fully defended spot in the city. But it was not safe for shadelings, or anyone. Automatons congregated there, killing everything that moved. The land was red and black with blood and shadow, as people tried to flee the spiders, only to fall to automated defenses.

Everything else, from the Garrison with its adventurer defenders, to the Farms, to the bordellos and the hotels, was under attack by invisible enemies, and full of holes leading down into the dark below.

And above it all, but below the floating horde, was a dark man, standing on the dark crystal, looking upon his kingdom, and laughing. He bellowed hateful joy into the spider raining sky. When they got too close to him, he waved his hand, and they blew off course, down into a part of the city that had been doing okay, until suddenly exposed to another round of invisible attackers.

Ophiel had only been in the air for ten seconds, and Erick already knew that half of Candlepoint had to be dead, already.

This was the true terror of the Ballooning Spider Horde, when it fell upon an unprotected populace. This was the true nature of Veird, in its most bloody, most dangerous moments. Erick had made light of this reality with his own ability, and his own magics, but here, mutated nature was allowed to happen, unimpeded.

The air cleared of booming laughter.

Erick looked to Bulgan, as the Shade pointed at one of the Ophiel.

The Shade flashed with white, grey, dark light. Erick watched both from the outside and from the inside, as dense air collapsed around an Ophiel. Space folded, as reality crushed inward like a closing fist. Dense air cracked, and broke. Wing snapped and dislocated. Ophiel and all of his defenses, crushed toward a center of compacted space.

And then Erick was watching from the outside, as one Ophiel was no more, and the space where he had been exploded in dark light. A pulse of dust and pure force rippled out of the implosion, for that is what it had to be; Bulgan had imploded a small part of reality, somehow.

The eighth Ophiel died in a similar fashion. It took Bulgan seven seconds to crush an Ophiel, but it still happened. Erick still wasn’t strong enough.

Bulgan yelled, “I do not authorize your assistance, Erick! Go away! Candlepoint is fine without you!”

Shadelings below screamed as they were torn apart by invisible fangs, or packed into cocoons by nimble legs and air currents.

Seven remaining Ophiel ran away from Bulgan, for they could not blip. The air was full of scratchy denial of all Spatial Magic. Bulgan’s [Teleport Lock] had come on in the last few seconds; maybe even as soon as he had seen Ophiel. Maybe the Shade had been waiting for Erick, or anyone, to make a play.

Ophiel flew in every direction, into the horde, away from Bulgan. They cast stationary, multi-kilometer layers of [Withering] into the spider filled sky, into the falling monsters. Hopefully none of the shadelings thought to fly away; it certainly didn’t look like they were doing anything but huddling and hiding. There was no time for subtlety or properly shaped spells, and even such a [Withering] defense could be navigated by those hive mind spiders; Erick had seen it before.

For a brief moment spiders died and the true attack stood revealed, as invisibilities failed. The horde was the same size as all the rest Erick had killed. Millions of spiders. All hungry. All deadly. From the largest white mothers with their black lined bodies, to the smaller fully white males and younger spiders.

Against an undefended people, they were genocide.

Bulgan reached out, easy as flipping his hand around, and canceled the nearest [Withering] hanging in the sky. One layer out of seven vanished. And then he did it again, quick as a grip, ripping spellwork down through sheer force of will. Erick didn’t even see the characteristic dark flash of [Dispel].

Ophiels flew further, and higher, through the falling spiders, collecting them on the dense air of their floating platforms like semi trucks rushing through a bug swarm. Legs and eyes and splashing exoskeletons of spiders that had yet to die to the [Withering], fell to the wayside.

Bulgan killed another Ophiel from over two kilometers away; a twist of a raised hand, and the [Familiar] imploded, then exploded. Shockwaves bounced through the horde, scattering dried corpses.

New Ophiels joined the battlefield, flying in from afar, casting [Withering] into the sky, with multiple layers over dozens of kilometers. Each of them cost 602 mana. Every expenditure took half a minute to regain, even with 76,000 Mana Regeneration.

Bulgan popped Erick’s [Familiar]s like they were overripe grapes. Casting [Prismatic Ward] across a floating platform bought each protected Ophiel an extra three or five seconds of life; enough for two or three spells, which they cast out as fast as they could. The sky filled with more easily and quickly dispersed [Withering]s and [Call Lightning]s, briefly turning the twilight morning back to deeper darkness. But Bulgan’s grip was irresistible; final. Clouds vanished. Thick airs dissipated.

Erick almost abandoned the extra defense of [Prismatic Ward]. Maybe he could get more spells out across the city if he abandoned the extra five seconds it took to construct the platforms and the dense air. Maybe Ophiel could fly faster without lugging around stone and defenses. But three seconds was still three seconds, and without those defenses, the spiders would tear Ophiel apart.

… Or maybe not. They had 17,000 effective Health, now. And they had [Greater Lightwalk].

Ophiels blipped into the sky, naked. They turned to untouchable light, and then they turned hard, and edged. There was no organization to their transformation; they simply became like clouds of luminous swords. Every Ophiel on the scene transformed, abandoning all defenses. Then they began to spin, chopping up—

Bulgan reached out, and soaked into the nearest Ophiel. Thin lines of substance cast long shadows into the spider filled morning. Those shadows rammed inward and ate the lightform [Familiar], like he was a simple, delicious snack. The Shade repeated the procedure against every Ophiel in sight.

In moments, Erick’s entire flight was gone. Erick summoned a [Scry] orb onto the battlefield, just to see what had happened.

Booming laughter once again filled the sky.

Bulgan stood upon his dark crystal, like a man made of void in the middle of the sun. Wreathed in gold-white radiance, the laughing Shade was the deepest pit of darkness Erick had ever seen.

Erick’s sight cut as Bulgan stared right at the [Scry] orb staring at him, and popped it.

- - - -

Erick breathed hard. Cold sweat stained through his light shirt. Poi looked on from the other side of the room. Teressa stood guard by the door, watching both of them.

“Everything is happening too fast and my mana regen still isn’t enough!” Erick said.

Poi looked away from the air. He said, “We have potions.” He looked to Teressa. “Get them.”

Teressa blipped away in a flash of grey light.

“Right. Potions.” Erick laughed a harsh sound, as he joked, “I’ll have to get tested for intestinal rads afterward.” He looked to Poi. His voice turned strained. “I don’t know what to do. If I could use [Greater Lightwalk] I could have Ophiel hunt the invisible spiders in the city. But he ATE MY LIGHT, Poi! He can do that?! I know you said light make shadows stronger, but I never— He’s going to kill them all—” He said, “Wait. I have this left.”

Erick applied his last Favored Spell, to [Summon Ophiel]. 602 mana per Ophiel became 225, almost tripling his rate of summoning. 29 seconds per Ophiel became 11. He lifted his hand, and began summoning Ophiels. One, two, more. Each of them appeared hard edged, each of them already running [Hunter’s Instincts].

Erick turned on [Hunter's Instincts] himself. Why hadn’t he done this before? He did not know.

Suddenly, everything seemed calmer. Quieter. The horror of the moment became a clinical experience, and somehow slower at the same time. This was the true power of [Hunter’s Instincts]; this disconnect. Shadelings were dying, and there was nothing Erick could do about that at this particular moment, but Erick’s mana was ticking upward.

And then he gave each Ophiel [Defend]. He should have been doing this, too. It might help.

Defend X, 1 minute, 1/10 HP

Take 50% less damage for 1 minute, cannot take more than 90% of your HP in damage in 1 hit.

Teressa blipped in, holding a small wooden box. She handed it over to Erick, asking, “Have you ever had a mana potion before?”

Erick said, “No,” as he opened the wooden box, which was more like a crate, now that he looked inside. He plucked a glass vial about half the size of his fist from inside. Blue liquid fully filled the vial, while white wax kept the juice inside. “Just down it, right?” He thumbed the wax off, easy as a flick of his finger, then downed the potion. It was made to be easy to use.

It tasted like blue light and burned like the world’s worst rotgut. Erick endured.

“Yup, just like that.” Teressa said, “One every minute with a max of five per week is the maximum dosage. The good ones last a minute. Those last a minute. It should multiply your Regen by 10, then taper off.”

Erick looked at his mana while Teressa spoke. The numbers on his Status rose normally for a few seconds, then, as the blue potion settled inside, his 21 mana per second Regen suddenly multiplied, turning into 210 per second. Ten seconds later, Erick had enough mana to resummon all of his Ophiel.

The first ones were already blipping across the Crystal Forest, to Candlepoint, with slitted eyes and hard feathers, and instincts out for blood.

- - - -

Ophiels tried to blip in three kilometers north, south, east, and west of Candlepoint, as well as every direction between those. But Bulgan’s Blessing had radiated far and wide, denying transport anywhere near the city. If Erick were to guess, he might be ten or even fifteen kilometers out. Candlepoint was barely a dot of rainbow in the distant, twilight horizon. The blot of dark-light atop the city was more than visible, though. Bulgan glowed with stolen power, like the bigger stars in the void above.

Erick was mad at Bulgan’s stolen light, in a disconnected sort of way. How did that even work? How did Bulgan steal power?

… This might be fine, though.

Eight Ophiel conjured weather into the sky, and fires down below. Rain fell, and twisted. Northerlies turned to easterlies as a counterclockwise spin took control of the heavens. Tempests turned around the city of Candlepoint. Ophiels joined their spellwork, multiplying their effects, and their domination of the sky.

Spiders remained in the eye of the forming hurricane, though. There was no stopping those. But the ones that had yet to land. The ones in reserve?

Erick tore them down from the sky like he was cleaning an old house of spiderwebs. A small hurricane formed over the sands of the Crystal Forest, winds reaching up and down, tearing at dunes, clouds manifesting out of thin air. Sand blew harsh, ripping at mimics and agave. Mimics chimed in worry, then in horror, as winds picked up battering them, tearing them from the soil.

Ten thousand mana casts from each Ophiel in each of eight directions, was more than enough to start the storm. The winds reached all the way to Candlepoint.

The spot of darklight at the top of the central tower, took off like a comet, toward the north.

Erick had a brief moment of introspection. Was he really doing this? He was antagonizing a Shade; an enemy he was not capable of fighting on equal footing. Erick didn’t really know where to begin. He wasn’t a fighter.

But.

Yes. He was. He could fight, when he had to. When it was necessary.

Killing Shades was the most necessary violence in this entire world.

He steeled himself as Bulgan came for the northern Ophiel. That naked Ophiel activated [Defend], and lasted a good five seconds; almost as long as with a full [Prismatic Ward] set up. After crushing Ophiel in a telekinetic fist, Bulgan turned his attention to the sky, wasting precious seconds to tear down the storm. Ten seconds at first, then twenty seconds; gone. Erick had already resummoned the northern Ophiel, and was just waiting for Bulgan to move on.

On instinct, he sent the Ophiel in early, casting [Call Lightning] into the world.

Bulgan noticed. He also noticed the lightning arcing down at him. Bright, flashing light burned through the Shade. When the flash went away, Bulgan was still floating there. Briefly, Erick noticed that one of his wrists ended in a stump. And then the moment was over. Shadows crawled over Bulgan’s body, restoring his missing hand.

He was brighter than before. Fractionally brighter, for sure. But still brighter.

Shit.

That Ophiel attack was just the distraction, though. Three other Ophiels blipped into the city with instructions set and skills imbued. Three Ophiels turned into light, and then into something that was not unlike an ooze. They washed into the dark streets like liquid death. The spiders’ invisibility spells did wonders against those who could not defend themselves, but that trick did not work against ultraviolet, or infrared senses. Ophiels became beings of hard edged light, cleaving invisible spiders, saving shadelings— saving people, as they could.

The storm, still active, still getting supported by Erick after Bulgan passed, did a lot, too. Wind pulled every flying thing out of the city, like an immense vacuum cleaner, while the horde tangled on the storm wall kilometers away from Candlepoint. The horde would have been killed, if Erick had been given time to kill them.

But Bulgan abandoned playing with Ophiel on the edge. He came back to the city. He was dimmer than before, but a simple stretch of the hands toward the flowing lightform Ophiels in his city, turned those Ophiel into snacks. The Shade bloomed back to full, dark radiance.

Erick kept summoning Ophiel, kept sending them in to do what they could do; he had never stopped. At a few seconds per Ophiel, and twenty seconds per Ophiel death, Erick churned them out like a never ending swarm, easily keeping ahead of Bulgan’s—

The Shade took the top of his dark tower, and then took a knee on the Crystal’s surface. In a radiant moment, the tower itself, once dark, began to become more than that. Veins of light traced down Bulgan’s arms, through his stump, flowing into the Crystal, revealing shadows deeper than Bulgan himself, inside the structure. Veins of light became arteries of radiance that expanded into rivers, then to full brightness, as the Crystal completely turned to light, bathing the city in a white-gold luminosity.

In a detached, horrific moment, Erick witnessed Bulgan’s magic through a [Scry] eye hovering over the city.

First, the few visible spiders still on the ground, still eating people, went berserk. Meager adventurer defenses and shadeling doors and blockades were instantly overwhelmed by invisible and visible, glowing white spiders. At the same time, the dark automatons in the city doubled in size, as they too went berserk, their colors changing from black to light, as they began pouring out of the Crystal like a radiant flood released. They chopped down everyone they saw, except for the spiders. Perhaps, they did not see the spiders? All they saw were people fighting something.

Erick was reminded of the problems of improper summoned creatures—

Poi sent, ‘Sir. Bulgan needs to die.’

‘Thank you for bringing me back to the moment, Poi.’

More Ophiel blipped in around the city; Bulgan’s Lock was much smaller while he was locked to pouring power into the Crystal. But that was a lie, apparently. Bulgan straightened. He smiled. He lifted his stump, creating an open hand of darkness to replace his lost flesh. He crushed down with that darkness, ending an Ophiel in one quick, effortless movement. And then his [Teleport Lock] expanded. He was holding back on purpose, luring Erick to move his Ophiel closer.

Before Erick could pull back and save some of his forces, Bulgan snapped his fingers. Five Ophiel imploded at once, leaving one behind, and likely just because the Shade needed an Ophiel alive so he could speak.

Bulgan’s words vibrated across the sky, directly at Ophiel, “You haven’t paid the million darkchip price, Erick! If you continue to pursue this fun time, I’m going to have to come to Spur and drag you out of your home, and do what I should have done months ago!”

Ophiel floated a hundred meters away from the Shade, as Erick yelled through him, “End this madness, Bulgan! Your people are dying!”

“They don’t matter! There’s more in Ar’Kendrithyst. There’s more in the Well. I don’t even matter! None of this matters, except to teach you lessons! To teach you that defiance has a cost, and that you are weak!” Bulgan yelled, “Too weak to act when you need to act! Too weak to power through the barriers set against you!”

Bulgan reached out and popped Ophiel.

- - - -

For a few moments, Erick sat in his safe chair, in the safety of his warded house, in the safety of his city, surrounded by his safety net of personal guards.

No one was safe in Candlepoint. Not one of them had time to think, like Erick had right now. If Silverite was right about the Well, and if Bulgan was right about what he could do with the Well…

Erick almost questioned his desire to help people who were hurting, but who would get over it, in time.

But…

It was right and good to help people who need help, no matter if whatever they were going through was temporary. And besides that, there were adventurers in that town. They only had the one life… Unless they got revived as shadelings, too.

Erick checked his mana. He was half full, at 8,000 out of 17,000. His mana potion had worn off several seconds ago, but he had been using that mana this whole time. Eight thousand was a lot; it was enough for what he needed to do next.

He created an Ophiel, then blipped him out to a buried treasure. It was a small box under the sands in a specific location Erick had never marked, but was easily accessible to him, since [Teleport] put you right where you wanted to be, if you knew where you wanted to be. A [Stoneshape] brought the box to the surface, and then unveiled what was inside. Darkchips. Tiny fragments of some dark crystal or other black stone, maybe obsidian, maybe not; that didn’t matter.

Erick certainly couldn’t hope to [Duplicate] a million of these in the next ten seconds, and throw them in Bulgan’s face. With a bit of math, and aided by the clarity of his [Hunter’s Instincts], getting a million darkchips would take a million casts of [Duplicate]. Ten Ophiel meant he could have ten of them work at the same time, meaning only 100,000 casts per Ophiel, but even then…

A full day only had 84,000 seconds; 84,000 possible casts. That wasn’t taking into account mana, either, which would surely have to—

In the heat of the moment, Erick’s [Hunter’s Instincts] supplied him an answer. With 76,000 mana regen, it would take 2.5 seconds to get the 50 mana necessary to cast a Clarity-assisted 100 mana cost [Duplicate]. Meaning, one Ophiel could do 33,600 casts per day, meaning 10 Ophiel could do a third of a million per day, meaning 3 days for ten of them to cast [Duplicate] a million times. It was slightly better than that, because he had -10% spell costs, but that was more math than he was willing to do at the moment, and he doubted that small calculation would make the task much easier.

Erick wished he had more time, or that he had had this idea earlier than now, but that was not to be.

So he had to work some magic, first, and fast.

He tried to [Duplicate] the whole box. He got a second, empty box.

A shaped [Duplicate] on the whole stone box ended in another misfire.

Double Duplicate, instant, touch, 150 Mana

Create two copies of a non-magical, non-living item.

He got two stone boxes, but not the loose chips inside. Failure.

Erick tried not to think about people dying. If he got this right, if he managed to pay the million darkchip price, then Bulgan would have to abide by Melemizargo’s rules, wouldn’t he? That’s what Justine thought would happen. But then what?

Erick tried a 500 mana Extreme Mana Shaping, from a target, to an area. He cast upon the entire interior of the box. Darkchips pumped up from the box, like a swelling tide of obsidian flakes.

Multi-Duplicate, instant, touch, 600 Mana

Create copies of every item in a small area.

Better. But mana and cast time were still a concern. Not good enough. Erick could do more.

The third test had Ophiel pick up the box, while other Ophiels hovered below, waiting.

Mana Shaping. Aurify. [Duplicate].

Duplication Aura, instant, small range, 600 mana per second

Create copies of every item in a small area.

Erick expected stone boxes filled with darkchips. And he got that.

Stone boxes tumbled from the air, each of them filled with 1500 darkchips. Ophiels caught the boxes, and held them tight, making sure that none of the pieces spilled.

But he also got something else. Wind flowed from Ophiel like he was the center of an outflowing tornado. Other Ophiels readily rode the storm, easily holding on to themselves and the hundreds of boxes popping out all around the central Ophiel.

666 boxes, each overflowing with chips, all created in under ten seconds. That was all the darkchips needed to make up the needed million. Erick added on more boxes, though, just to be sure.

He hoped this worked.

- - - -

“Bulgan!”

Ophiel popped into the sky above Candlepoint, a hundred meters from the central Crystal, booming with Erick’s voice.

Some of the rainbow streetlights were broken, and gone, but daylight was fast approaching, and the central pillar of gold-white radiant Crystal showed the damage done to the city, and the damage still being committed by person-sized white spiders and four meter tall white automatons. Shadelings ran, but could not get away. Adventurers huddled under [Solid Ward]s, while monsters and machine-like summons beat on the glowing cages. And everywhere, there was no escape, because Bulgan, the Shade assigned to Candlepoint, stood atop the central, glowing Crystal, laughing at it all.

Bulgan laughed once, louder than before, then shouted, “You have no fee! Go away!”

“I have your fee!” Other Ophiels blipped in beside the first, carrying their heavy cargo on [Teleporting Platform]s. “Here are a million darkchips! I challenge you for control of Candlepoint!”

Bulgan smiled; a wicked thing, full of fangs.

In a flashing second, the Crystal under Bulgan dimmed to darkness, as radiance flowed up into the Shade, transforming him back into a radiant void. He bowed. “Welcome, my brother of Darkness, Erick Flatt.” He straightened, fully in control of himself, saying, “Thank Melemizargo that you’ve finally taken your rightful assignment.”

And then he vanished.

Erick came back to himself, feeling as though something awful had happened. Poi looked to him with soft eyes. Teressa looked to him with a questioning stare.

Erick said nothing. Candlepoint was still dying. He went back under, back into Ophiel’s senses and positions, over the shadeling city.

The spiders still fought invisibly, down below. Automatons still killed people. Erick recast the storms and [Withering]s outside, quick as he could, making sure he did not cast into the city; that would just kill every shadeling, too. The Crystal had already stopped producing summons, so he ignored that, for now. He discarded the darkchips, dismissing the platforms like they held nothing of importance at all, for they did not. 666 stone boxes of obsidian flakes fell to the roof of a building below, and shattered, spilling black flakes onto the black building.

Erick turned every single Ophiel into oozing light, and set them into the melee below, aimed at heat-bearing invisible spiders, and flowing into killing automatons. Spiders died, but not fast enough. Erick summoned a spell he had never used outside of its initial cast, because it was the only thing he had that was small scale, and what he could trust not to race around and kill shadelings. Otherwise, he would have used [Shooting Star].

Flying Weapon, instant, close range, 100 MP + Variable

Create a nigh unbreakable weightless weapon that flies at your command. Lasts until dismissed.

Each Ophiel summoned a bevy of daggers to augment their oozing [Greater Lightwalk]s.

Automatons were tougher than spiders, though. They carved through people without care, and two Ophiels and simple summoned weapons could not harm them. [Spell Breaker] did not work either. They were more than 1500 mana per summon. He tried [Teleport Summon], but that failed, for some reason.

Feeling disjointed from it all, Erick joined [Flying Weapon] to [Strike], wanting to harm and hurt the dark shelled summons like a god pressing a button and ending a threat. The summoned beasts were covered in blood, and he would end them—

Back in Spur, a blue box appeared.

Flying Striker, instant, close range, 250 MP + Variable

Create a nigh unbreakable weightless weapon that automatically Strikes opponents at your command, draining your mana for each Strike. Lasts until dismissed.

And then another.

Class Ability Quest Complete!

Create a well-made tier 3 skill or spell born of a Health-cost skill and a Mana-cost spell.

Reward: Blood Mana

Erick would explore the full ramifications of Blood Mana later. Right now, he cast [Flying Striker] with every oozing, lightform Ophiel.

Automatons fell under the multitudinous [Strike]s as lightform [Familiar] flew through Candlepoint like the wrath of an angry god. Spiders ceased to be, as their [Invisibility] was no match for Erick’s knowledge, or his power.

Erick couldn’t face a Shade in combat and win, yet. But he could certainly help save some people on the ground. Silverite had been right. Erick was much better at widescale destruction, than concentrated fire.

As a white orb above the Crystal created a map of all spiders in the area, and Ophiels followed the map to their enemies, Erick watched, and organized, as best he could. He briefly came back to himself a few times, here and there, but nothing important was happening in Spur right now. Hopefully it would stay that way for a few days.

But Erick doubted it.