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Vainglory 3.27 - As Dread Advances
🕑 Added 2025-04-14 19:11:12 +0000 UTCHere's your chapter deliver, Vainglory readers! Enjoy~
-Plum
27 – As Dread Advances
Before he got moving again, Ward took out his hemograph, opened the top cover, and turned it upside down and left and right, making sure all the water had gotten out of it. It was a finely crafted silver box, and, as far as he could tell, it had only gotten damp on the surface. Nonetheless, he was a little worried some water had gotten into the works, and he had no idea what sort of effect that would have.
Grace, who’d been eager for him to get a new reading, nudged his shoulder. “It looks fine.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Ward set the box on his knee and then pressed his finger against the circular disc on the side. It depressed, and then with a faint click, he felt the pressure of the needle. The hemograph clicked and hummed, and the aetherflux under the crystal swirled, glowing with a bright, pale blue light. Grace was proven right about the device being in working order when his report slowly materialized in the flux:
Recordings of this blood detected. Previous values will appear in [brackets].
Evolved human with three bloodlines:
Lycan – Prominent signs, Aetherborn – Trace signs, Dreadmarked – Echoing [Trace] signs
Bloodline Integration: Coexisting
Bloodline potential conflict analysis: Minor conflict possibility between Lycan and Aetherborn
Bloodline Tolerance Threshold: 70% - 40% Lycan, 6% Aetherborn, 24% [6%] Dreadmarked
Accumulated Mana: 1845 [312]
Mana Distribution: Natural – No allocation enchantments detected
Mana Well: Tier 4 – 19% [9%] to next tier, Enhanced regeneration from aetherborn bloodline – minor
Mana Sensitivity: Tier 4
Mana Pathways: Tier 5, 2 tiers from pathway artifact influence
Vessel Capacity: Tier 4
Vessel Durability: Tier 3 – 66% [54%] to next tier, Enhanced healing from lycan bloodline – notable, Enhanced bone density from lycan bloodline – moderate
Vessel Strength: Tier 3 – 91% [79%] to next tier, Enhanced physical power from lycan bloodline – notable
Vessel Speed: Tier 3 – 43% [27%] to next tier, Enhanced reflexes from lycan bloodline – moderate
Vessel Vitality: 85% – Tier-3 depletion rate
Anima Heart: Tier 1 – Emerging
Anima Pathways: Nascent
Anima: 81/100 [43/100]
Grace slapped Ward’s shoulder. “I told you!”
Ward frowned, staring at the report where it said he’d increased his “dreadmarked” bloodline by nearly twenty percent. “Well, I’m screwed, I guess. They’ll deport me.”
“Maybe.” Grace squinted and held up a finger, shrugging as she added, “Then again, this isn’t exactly a modern society. How quickly will they hunt you down if you don’t go to the Proving Gate for your next evaluation?”
“You think I can slip through the cracks? I’m living at the damn Assembly Hall.”
“Well, you are now, but you’ve got a few weeks until you’re due to be tested. A lot could change.”
“Yeah. I suppose.” Ward gestured to the report. “On the bright side, I’ve almost regained all my anima, and my strength is close to going up to the next tier.”
“Not surprising, considering your bulky physique.” Ward made to grab at her wrist, growling, and she danced out of range, giggling. “Come on, you big lug. Let’s go find Haley.”
“Right.” Ward closed the hemograph and was about to put it back into the satchel when he shrugged and sent it into his magical bag. He kept the satchel on his hip but took his other artifacts and valuable items and stuck them into the magic pouch. It made the satchel lighter, and he felt like his valuables were safer in the weird dimensional space than they would be in the leather pack. With the drawstring closed, he didn’t think water had much chance of getting through the magical stitching.
That done, he tied the pouch to his belt, drew his sword, and approached the two iron levers in the wall. “Should I pull both?”
Grace shook her head, pointing to the left-hand one. “Just this one—open the way ahead, but leave the way to the lake clearing closed off. You know, just in case some super slow, undead zombies are still shambling in your tracks.”
Ward shrugged. “Guess that couldn’t hurt.” He pulled the lever on the left and, sure enough, heard the rattling, grinding racket of the barrier blocking off the main pathway sliding down. “I’m assuming you just figured it would be the left lever ’cause that’s closer to the gate we wanted open?”
“That’s right.” Grace grabbed his arm and propelled him toward the exit. Ward left the alcove, cautiously looking left and right in the main pathway to ensure nothing was sneaking up on him. When he got to the now-open gateway, he could see another junction maybe a hundred yards distant.
“Was that there before?”
“Hard to say for sure. You were kind of looking down, hoping I’d spot any deathtraps.”
“Right.” Ward started ahead, sword ready, and, as luck would have it, didn’t set off any traps before he reached the next passageway.
Grace pointed to the left. “Tree’s that way.”
“Yeah…” Ward turned around and studied the other path. It led toward a left-hand turn about twenty-five yards further on. With a shrug, he turned and walked down the left-hand pathway. It was straight, but, again, he could see a T-junction in the distance. He took a few steps, then said, “Hang on.”
“What?”
Ward opened his pouch and summoned his spellbook from its capacious interior. “I ought to prepare Mana Bolt, don’t you think?”
“Do you have room?”
Ward looked into his mind, studying the words of power floating there. Reveal Secrets was there, taking up most of his capacity, along with Shadow Step and the remnants of Feather Touch. He was pretty sure he couldn’t memorize Mana Bolt on top of all that, so he picked up a loose piece of rubble and said, “Aeron Vyre,” watching as the words echoed off the garden walls and then permeated the stone with weird, glittering pearly lights. He threw the stone up, chuckling as it soared into the sky, becoming too small to see in just a few seconds.
Grace chuckled. “Hope that doesn’t lose the spell's effect and come down on someone’s head!”
“I hope it does! Right on top of one of those rat guys.” Ward looked into his head and saw the spell was still there, so he cast it again on another stone, this time skipping it lightly down the pathway, watching it bounce from wall to wall. “Crazy.” With space made in his skull, he memorized Mana Bolt, and then, after stowing his grimoire away, he started walking again. “What do I need to improve to memorize more spells at once?”
“I wish I knew, but the hemographs are new to me, too. Maybe your mana pathways?”
“Makes more sense than the other attributes, I guess.”
“It’s too bad your sword can’t take an enchantment. You could have probably broken up that skeleton faster if you had that other spell on it.”
“True Strike?”
“Strike True with Power,” Grace cocked her head to the side, winking as she corrected him.
“Listen, that’s a mouthful. I’m happy to rename the spell. I’m the sorcerer here, aren’t I?”
“Fair enough.” She shrugged, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her slim-fitting dress pants.
“Hey, when Haley sees you, are you dressed the same?”
“Nope. I wear a sky-blue kimono-style dress with little cherry blossoms stitched into the silk. It’s beautiful, really.”
“But why?” Ward laughed. “Why are you wearing a damn suit with no shoes when I see you?”
“I told you! Because you have that image in your subconscious mi—” She stopped short, holding a finger to her lips.
“What?” Ward whispered, crouching, holding his sword ready as he turned in a slow circle. They were about ten yards from the junction, and as he strained his ears, he heard what had set Grace off—soft clicks, like a dog’s nails on a tile floor. He lifted his nose and inhaled slowly, studying the scents that came to him on the faint breeze.
At first, there was nothing, but then, carried on a sudden swirling gust, he picked up an unmistakable odor. “Ratmen,” he whispered. Grace nodded and moved out of his way, and Ward stood ready, figuring a fight was inevitable. He could try to run back to the lever and pull it, locking the monsters on the other side of the gate, but then he’d be stuck, too. It didn’t matter, anyway, because the wolf in him wouldn’t seriously consider running from rats.
The clicks grew louder, and Ward stared at the junction. Ten seconds and a dozen clicks later, the first of the creatures came into view—it was one of the giant ones. Ward didn’t hesitate; he held up his left hand and barked, “Vrakkun Khorvek!” A bolt of flickering, ghostly flames streaked out of his hand and slammed into the unsuspecting ratman commander. Just as before, it was an instant kill. The ghostly flames burst from its eyes as it convulsed and collapsed with a ripple of fur-covered belly fat.
Skittering, chittering howls erupted from the corridor behind the corpse, and then another commander came charging around the corner, flanked by two enormous rats, easily a yard tall at the shoulders. Ward pointed his hand at the commander and fired off another Mana Bolt. To his dismay, however, an inky black pendant around the ratman’s neck flared with blue light, and the mana bolt disappeared into it.
“That’s how it is, huh?” Ward growled, backpedaling. He had one more Mana Bolt, and he didn’t want to waste it on that pendant, so he pointed his hand at the left-hand giant rat and shouted, “Vrakkun Khorvek!” The ball of ghostly flames streaked out and slammed into the rat. It was head-down, charging him, so the bolt struck the top of its dark gray-furred skull and burst from its ears and eyes. It died instantly, falling to the stones and sliding as the other two monsters bore down on Ward.
As the commander swung at him, Ward’s harried mind finally registered that he was wielding a big, hook-bladed axe. He knocked the blow aside just in time to kick his boot out at the giant rat as it tried to relieve him of his left foot. His heel caught it on the snout, and it backed off a step. By then, the commander had recovered the momentum of its axe and swung it again, in a broad, flat cleave.
The creature was tall—pushing seven feet—and Ward ducked under the blow that would have caught him in the neck. The monster’s wild swing gave him the opening he needed to lunge forward and drive the tip of his broad-bladed sword into the monster’s chest, smashing right through the rusty ringmail armor there. The blade sliced through flesh and bone, and the ratman howled in agony, flailing as it fell back.
Ward’s blade caught in the thing’s breastbone, and, refusing to let go, he was pulled along with the falling ratman, leaving his flank open to the giant rat. The creature—a mass of black and gray fur, snarls, and gnashing, oversized teeth—leaped on his side, digging its claws into his hip and shoulder as it tried furiously to dig its enormous incisors into Ward’s neck.
Something snapped in Ward—something horrified and disgusted by the vile, beady-eyed creature biting at and slobbering all over his neck and shoulder. He roared, releasing his sword and grabbing the rat’s thick, matted fur in both hands. Roaring in pain and disgust, he ripped it off his shoulder and flung it toward the stone wall. Something in the creature’s body cracked, and it squealed in agony, but that didn’t stop it from scrabbling over the flagstones toward Ward again.
Ward dove on the still thrashing ratman and grasped the hilt of his sword. He drove it down deeper into its body. It screamed and bucked, slashing its long-clawed hands at him, but then Ward jerked up on the sword as hard as he could. It ripped free of the commander’s chest, and, using the momentum of his pull, Ward swung it in a broad arc in the direction he’d last see the giant rat approaching.
He was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as the heavy blade cleaved the rat’s skull, knocking it aside. Grinning viciously, Ward lifted the bloodied blade and, again, drove it into the commander’s chest. This time, the monster shuddered and became still, all its fight oozing out of the two big holes Ward had made.
Cussing and wincing, Ward gingerly probed the deep scratch and bite marks on his neck and shoulder. As usual, they were already healing, his lycan regeneration once again saving the day.
Grace appeared before him, wincing as she looked at his wounds. “I’d eat one of those anti-disease tablets, Ward.”
“Yeah,” he gasped, still catching his breath after that adrenaline-fueled melee. He took his “new” sweater off—torn and bloodied—wiped off his wounds and then his sword blade, and then threw the ruined garment to the flagstones. As he summoned a cleaner shirt from his magic bag, he remembered he didn’t have the anti-disease tablets; they were in his backpack.
“I know,” Grace said. “I just realized what I said was impossible. Hopefully, you’ll meet them soon.”
“Hopefully, my lycan blood won’t let me catch rabies,” Ward growled in reply, striding toward the first commander he’d slain—it was already starting to bleed mana motes into the air. After he’d calmed down and grounded himself, he tried to absorb the sparkling motes, knowing that their electric nature meant there was probably anima present as well. He drew some in, but not nearly as much as after the giant horde massacre earlier that day. “I need to wait a while before I can gather another big chunk.”
“You got some, though, right? I saw you shivering like you do…”
“It’s the anima.” Ward chuckled. “It’s like little electric shocks as it goes into me.”
“Well, collect their weapons and that amulet,” Grace said, prodding the big, hooked axe with her toes.
“They any good, you think?”
“It seems like proper steel, and it’s not very rusted. It might be good for trade, if nothing else. The one you blasted was holding a knife, I think. Look under its body.”
Ward grasped the rat commander’s leather baldric and, with a grunt, heaved him over onto his back. Sure enough, clutched in his claw-like hand was a long, single-edged dagger with a wickedly sharp point. Ward put it and the axe into his magical bag, then unhooked the black chain buried in the matted fur of the other rat commander’s neck.
The chain was attached to the amulet that had absorbed his spell, and when Ward held it up, he was impressed by its weight—it felt like gold or lead, but it was so black that he struggled to see any details on its surface. His fingers told a different story, though; he was sure he could feel the tiny shapes of runes etched into the strange metal. “It’s cold,” he muttered.
“That thing might absorb spells, but it could also be cursed. It looks evil,” Grace said, leaning close to peer at the amulet.
“Yeah, it’s strange, that’s for sure.” Ward shrugged and sent it into his magical bag. “We’ll get it checked out before anyone wears it.” When he set the amulet down near his mana well, another thought occurred to him, and Ward took the well out. “I haven’t filled this thing up in a long time. If I gather this mana, do you think it’ll absorb the anima, too? Do you think I could harvest it later from the mana well?”
Grace stared at him for a long moment and then smiled. “We should have thought of that a long time ago!”
Ward laughed and then took the well over to the ratman’s corpse. Oddly, the second one hadn’t begun shedding mana yet. He held the mana well into the cloud of sparkling blue motes and grinned as he watched most of the cloud swarm into it. When it was done, he held the mana well high, looking at it in the light. The surface was still gray, but it held a luminescent sheen now that he’d filled it.
After putting the artifact away, Ward looked both ways at the junction, trying to decide on a path. “Any ideas?”
“Well, the tree is slightly more to the right of this T-junction, so we might as well go that way.”
“All right, but hang on.” Ward sighed as he took his spellbook out and sat down with it. “Those Mana Bolts saved me a lot of trouble in that last fight. Can you imagine if I’d had to fight all four of those things together?”
“Okay. Don’t you feel it, though?”
Ward frowned, looking up from his studies. “Feel what?”
“Urgency. Worry. Stress—I don’t know! What if Haley’s in trouble? What if… What if she’s hurt, Ward?”
“Yeah. I get it. Still, this spell will maybe save me a lot of time. As I said—those four together—I might have died or gotten seriously hurt. My wolf isn’t a sure thing, you know…”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry to distract you. Go ahead, then let’s hurry. I feel like something’s building—some kind of tension or…” She trailed off, waving a hand and walking ahead a little. “I’ll be quiet.”
Ward nodded and got to work. The truth was, though, that he could feel it. It was like static in the air—pressure building. Was his dreadmarked bloodline talking to him? Could Grace feel it because she was riding passenger in his mind? Scowling, Ward pushed the many worries out of his mind, telling himself the same thing he’d told Grace. The sooner he memorized the spell, the sooner they could move on. He knew he was close to the tree; he could feel it, too. Once he’d recovered the other artifact, he’d find Haley. Hopefully, she was on her way, too. Maybe she was already there.
Comments
Omar Jimenez
Nah, they just feel Dramatic tension.
Brigid
Either Ward and Grace can feel a metaphysical dread of an impending bad thing, or they can feel the buildup of the underground ritual over the artifact. Neat!
