ThatHumanMage
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151. Twisted Revelry
🕑 Added 2025-08-12 15:52:52 +0000 UTCKei took a step back as the man’s limp body hit the ground, finally released from the Acolyte’s clutches. She pressed her hand against her chest, trying to steady the pounding of her heart.
“The Cult…” Bruno muttered, his own stance stiff as he took a protective step in front of the two of them.
The Cult of The Old God. Kei had heard of them before—a violent organization that appeared from nothing, pursuing objectives no one really understood, and disappearing as quickly as they arrived.
Her stepmother had once called them the ‘black mark’ in history, and that word had stuck with Kei since the first time she’d heard it as a little girl. A kingdom would suddenly topple, hundreds of villages razed overnight, with the only known cause being “cult activities”. A conquering tyrant would be assassinated before his empire could come to fruition, hooded bodies found piled up in his throne room. They were an enigma, a separate entity from the struggles of the world, one that no one understood other than the cultists themselves.
Aria’s eyes were wide as she stared at the crumpled, mangled body on the amphitheatre steps. “That man…” She choked back vomit and turned away.
The acolyte, Callithea, laughed, her voice echoing over the now silent crowd.
“Oh what a day! Aren’t you all so grateful to be in my presence? Where are the tears? The applause?”
Nervous energy rippled through the crowd, mumbling, then some light clapping. It was as awkward as could be, as each person present surely wanted to flee.
Callithea frowned at the pathetic applause however, her mood once more souring. “I said, applause, you welps!” Her hair stood back on end, and the atmosphere grew sharp, like a guillotine ready to fall. “If your throats should bleed from overuse, I will have them stitched up so you may continue!”
“Woo! We love you Callithea!” someone cheered, their voice cracking as they clapped with all the enthusiasm they could muster.
The rest of the crowd soon caught on, clapping louder, cheering, chanting her name. Kei picked up the chant too, unsure of what she was even saying. But something about the woman’s attitude told her if she stopped, she’d be in danger. She glanced towards Bruno and Aria, who were both cheering as well, even as they looked back at Kei with fear in their eyes.
The Acolyte beamed, cupping her hands to her ears as she preened under the gilded praise. “Oh how wonderful it is to have such adoring fans! How truly exquisite! It’s my natural beauty, no matter how hard I try to suppress it, it just leaks out. Keep going! Keep praising me! Yes yes yes! Ahhhh… I love it!” Her cheeks flushed, her breathing growing heavy as she hugged her shoulders and shook back and forth. Blood dripped from the ends of her hair onto the stone, running down the front of the stage.
“Truly, only I am worthy of such attention! Truly, only I am worthy of this praise! Aren’t you all so lucky as to be here in my presence? Oh I know, I know, you all wish that you could stay with me forever! This is the city for me after all… oh but I would hate for any harm to befall my followers…”
She grew quiet suddenly, as if deep in thought. The applause died down for the briefest of moments as the people in the market tired, and her head snapped back up, eyes flashing with sheer rage. The applause picked back up as Callithea mumbled incoherently to herself.
Only then did Kei notice the group men sneaking up behind the Acolyte. Walking along the back wall of the stage, they approached. From the looks of them, they were adventurers. Coming into range, one of them drew back a bowstring, taking careful aim towards Callithea herself.
The bowstring snapped, and the archer cried out in pain as the string cut a gash across his neck. The arrow flew wide, missing its target completely, and the archer threw the bow aside as the threads suddenly reared up to slice his forearm.
The rest of the adventurers rushed forward, swords drawn and shouting for people to get back. A patrol of guards came running as well, spilling down the steps towards the stage. The rest of the robed figures charged to meet them, clashing amidst the audience.
The crowd’s cheers curdled into screams as the panic finally set in, sweeping the plaza like a wildfire. Chaos erupted as people shoved and scrambled, climbing over each other in desperate bids to escape.
“Running? Running running running… From me?” Callithea shrieked, tearing strands from her head. “No no no no no no. This cannot be! You traitors! You sickening worms of so little character as to attack such a beloved figure as myself! The punishment for this crime can be nothing other than death.”
Kei could only watch in horror as one of the adventurers found himself bound by his own robes as he tried to cast a spell. A moment later a dagger found its way into his forehead, and he toppled lifelessly off the wall. Not everyone was stopped by the acolyte’s power though. Two of the adventurers made it through, and for a moment it seemed they’d manage to cut her down, blades flashing through the air.
Callithea’s hair stretched out, somehow catching the blades on its own before twisting into a sharpened point and piercing one of their stomachs.
“They’re dead…” Bruno whispered, his voice faint.
Kei could see it too. She wasn’t an experienced fighter, but there was no doubt in her mind about who would win this battle. Still, it would create just enough of a distraction.
“Go!” She grabbed Aria’s wrist and darted through the panicking crowd. Bruno flanked them, watching their backs as shouts and steel clashed behind them.
They raced down a side street, the press of bodies giving way as they broke out of the current, boots hammering against the pristine tile. Kei’s pulse pounded in her ears, and she kept glancing back, half expecting to start choking at any point.
Focus Kei! She chided herself. You’ve learned haven’t you? What do you need to do now?
Callithea had said the city was under siege. Presumably that meant all of Liresil. If she was really a member of The Cult, she wouldn’t be acting alone right? There would be more of them. They were announcing themselves, and so they’d be where the most people were. They’d need to stick to back streets then.
“We go to the estate!” She shouted as they ran. “It has defensive wards! And if Lord Kaelburn is there we’ll be doubly safe!”
They rounded a corner to descend the platform and head towards the ground level—but as Kei saw the mass of bodies from afar, she realized that was futile. The narrower walkways between levels were packed with people, moving slowly as they thrashed and fought for space. She averted her eyes as she saw an older woman pushed over the edge by the sheer weight of the crowd.
“Damn damn damn…” she growled, mind working faster as she tried to think of something else. Her eyes caught on a large, arching root just below the edge of the platform. It was a drop, but it sloped gently all the way down to the ground level after that. “Follow me!”
She ran towards the root, sliding to a stop at the edge of the platform. It was just a bit too far down to be comfortable, but when she looked back, she noticed the cultists attacking the escaping crowd, dozens more coming out of the shadows.
“Are you crazy?” Aria shouted, taking a step back.
Bruno grabbed her hand. “Trust me sis, we’ll make it.” He turned back to Kei, eyes hardened. “I’ll go first.”
With that, he released his sister’s hand and leapt over the railing, falling a short distance before landing on the root below. He managed to break his fall with a roll in a surprising feat of athleticism, before looking back towards them.
Kei went over a moment later, landing hard with a painful jolt, but well enough to get back up.
Aria was still at the top however, looking down nervously at the wide root. “I…”
“Jump Aria!” Bruno shouted. “I’ll catch you, I promise.”
After a moment of hesitation more, Aria nodded. She climbed over the edge and hung off the railing, then kicked off the wall and let go. Bruno took a step forwards and caught her, though the force knocked him over, and they tumbled towards the edge.
Kei lunged, grabbing his arm and halting their momentum before they could get closer.
“Thanks,” he said, though he was looking at his sister. “Are you alright Aria?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, her voice trembling. “Let’s hurry and go.”
It was a precarious thing, but they managed to get down from the root onto the lower streets. As they raced off again, Kei realized they weren’t alone in their panic. Even the lower city had been thrown into chaos, and though less crowded, the streets were still full of people running in all directions.
They’re down here too, she realized. We have to be careful.
She was grateful now, to Corrin and Wyn, for making her run so much. Even going so fast for so long, she was hardly winded, and Bruno had slowed to help Aria, who was lagging behind. For the briefest moment, Kei considered running ahead, but she shook the thought away and slowed. “We’re almost there!”
Just a few more streets and then—
The wall of a building ahead of them exploded, and a huge monster broke through, a mass of eyes and tentacles. Kei skidded to a stop and dashed down a nearby alley and threw herself against the wall.
“Kings curse this city! There are monsters too?”
Aria staggered up next to her, holding her side as she collapsed against Bruno’s shoulder.
“Listen closely,” Bruno said, gesturing in the direction they were headed, then all around them.
Kei did just that, realizing that mixed with the screams of humans were countless roars and screeches as well. She let out a breath.
“We got lucky not to encounter one till now, but we can’t just stay here. It’s only a few streets away, just past that thing.”
Bruno shifted his stance, jaw set. “I’ll draw it off. You two, go!”
“Bruno don’t—” Kei started, but he was already charging into the open street, waving his arms and shouting like a madman to grab the creature’s attention.
The monster’s many eyes swiveled towards him, glimmering in the lamplight. It let out a wet, gurgling screech, and its nearest tentacle lashed out. Bruno dove to the side, snatching up a chunk of broken masonry from the street, and hurled it up into one of its eyes. The impact made the creature recoil with a sickening screech.
“Run!” he barked, already pelting it with more debris scavenged from the wreckage of the street. He retreated into another alley, and the monster followed, its pink flesh turning red with rage.
Kei let out a growl of frustration, then seized Aria’s frozen wrist and sprinted down the street, the thundering slap of tentacles and Bruno’s shouts echoing just out of sight.
Aria resisted at first, reaching out and screaming her brother’s name, but Kei pulled harder, and within moments the songstress was stumbling along.
Don’t you dare die on me, Kei thought, glancing back just once towards the alley Bruno had run into.
They ducked through a half-collapsed shop, clambering over shattered shelves and dropping into another alley. The din of battles was all around them, and it was clear Bruno wasn’t the only one fighting.
As they burst onto another street, Kei finally saw the tops of the Kaelburn walls ahead, and she sped up further. “We’re almost there!” she gasped.
A nearby crash rattled the ground, and she almost lost her footing, but she recovered and kept running. Somewhere behind them, the monster screeched again, joined by the crunch of stone and splintering wood.
They ran.
***
The southern market lay in ruins.
What had been sunlight and chatter only a few minutes ago was now fire and rubble, and the sharp stench of blood. The streets tore under the assault of monsters, filled with the screams of people only seconds from dying.
Wyn didn’t slow. He couldn’t. They died in droves around him, man and monster both. But each second he spent unmoving, someone would die that he could have saved.
Spirit fire licked along the blade in his hand, hungry. The nearest monster—some sort of wolf with plated hide and a gaping maw—darted at a fleeing merchant. Wyn didn’t even watch as it burned to ash, bisected by his blade, already moving past. “Get to the fountain!” he ordered, pointing the man towards the center of the plaza, where a stone fountain still stood, spraying water weakly onto the cracked streets.
He’d been gathering people as he could there, single-handedly maintaining a shaky perimeter.
He had no time to watch the man run that way, already vaulting over a broken cart towards his next battle.
Eia, he thought sharply, those spirits.
I told you, I can’t get too far from the acolyte! They’re not going straight, I’m working on it!
“Faster,” Wyn pleaded under his breath.
A scream cut the air to his left. Two children, no more than five were clutching each other, cornered against the wall of a collapsed stall. A scorpion-like beast scuttled towards them, its tail reared back to strike.
He was there in three strides, aura flaring through his legs. The tail lashed down and his blade flashed, cutting it clean off, and burning it before it touched the ground. The spirit fire took the rest a moment later.
The children were still shaking, pressed against the wall unable to move. He bent down, holding out his hand. “Can you come with me?” He asked. “I want to take you somewhere safe.”
Hesitantly, they reached out for his hand, and he smiled. “Thank you.”
He escorted them back, slowing as he reached the fountain where Sadirah and the others were waiting. A small cluster of children huddled near the basin, trembling as the adults had formed a defensive ring around them, even the untrained clutching to broken boards and to use as clubs should anything get near.
“You’ll be safe here,” Wyn said, gently ushering the children into Sadirah’s waiting arms.
Sadirah smiled gently, her hands holding them reassuringly. “You were both so brave. We’re going to be alright, okay?”
Wyn stayed just a moment longer, brushing a hand lightly over the little girl’s tear-streaked cheek. “I’ll be right back. Promise.”
Then, without hesitation, he rose and turned back toward the chaos, dashing off again.
He barely had time to breathe before a shadow passed over him, another of the leathery flying snakes dove at an elderly woman limping along the road. Wyn’s sword met its throat mid-air, and ash rained over her head as he directed her to the growing cluster of survivors.
Each fight was easy, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the number of them, the constant draw of spirit fire, the strain on his soul. Without a technique or mantle to drain his aura, he could fight almost indefinitely without fatigue, but no matter how many he burnt, the battles somehow only grew more intense.
A roar shook the street as a massive humanoid beast, with cracked, oozing skin, ripped one of the blaring flood alarm poles out of the ground and swung it like a club at three nearby merchants dragging a wounded man. Wyn’s boots cracked the stone beneath his feet as he closed the distance.
He brought his blade against the pole, throwing his whole weight behind it. The force knocked him to the ground, slamming down hard, but he managed to deflect it a few feet upwards, sending it just over their heads. Staying low, he slid under it, cutting the beast’s heel, causing it to fall onto its knees. He drove his blade into its spine, twisting it and pouring more spirit fire into the wound, devouring it in seconds.
“Fountain! Now!” He barked at the merchants. “Get there or—”
Something skittered in the rubble to his right. Wyn turned, too late to stop a long, whip-thin tail from cracking across his ribs. Pain flared up under his arm, hot and sharp, but his blade answered a moment later, carving the creature apart in one clean stroke.
He didn’t bother to check the wound.
Eia, please give me good news. He asked as he darted towards another monster. The weight of light spirits on his soul was low enough that he couldn’t even tell if she’d started.
They’re on the way, she sent back. Just another minute or two.
The next scream was a young man’s, strained and raw, pulling him out of the conversation.
It took Wyn a few moments to find him in the dark, trapped under the angled frame of a collapsed, burning building by a beam pinning his leg. Between them, the street was a mess of debris, fire, and three more monsters—a furless wolf with charred, smoldering skin, a beetle the size of a cart, and some shambling, vine-covered corpse which dripped acid where it stepped.
He charged.
The beetle saw him first, lowering its horn and charging in with enough force to smash through stone. If it hit.
Wyn leapt, twisting in the air and landing atop its back. He thrust downwards, but its shell was too tough, even for his spirit-fire blade.
A deep floor monster, or its equivalent, he thought. With a specialization in defense?
He didn’t have time to think any further as it rolled over, tossing him from its back, right to the feet of the vine-corpse, which was already swinging a thorned, acidic limb down towards his head. He rolled out of the way, and the thorns grazed his shoulder, tearing his skin.
The wolf lunged in at him, and he kicked it away, taking another gash on his leg, at the same time thrusting up into the mess of tangled vines, lavender lighting the air.
Too late though, he realized he’d kicked the dog closer to the trapped young man, and he could spot fire aura building up in its jaws.
Shit! It’s too far!
He threw himself in between the dog and trapped man, turning his back and reinforcing it with as much aura as he could manage.
Heat scorched him from behind as a wave of flame washed over the two of them, the man covered by Wyn holding his cloak out wide. The skin on his back began to burn, boiling like a severe sunburn. Even with the fibers being supposedly ‘flame-resistant’, at least according to the merchant he’d bought it from in Rūdkhān, it hurt like hell, and when the attack finally died down, it had still caught ablaze.
He threw the flaming cloak aside as quickly as he could, and spun back around, throwing his sword straight into the beast’s mouth where it impaled itself in the wolf’s throat.
Without so much as a pause for breath, he caught the beetle’s charge by its horn, getting blown back through rubble as he wrenched it just out of the way of the man he was trying to save.
His vision flashed as he crashed through the debris, dragged across the ground by the beetle’s mass and speed, desperately holding the horn back from his chest, until he finally slid to a stop against a half-remaining stone wall, only spirit fire keeping him conscious.
For a moment, the two of them struggled against each other, his arms screaming as he held back its weight. Then, using the horn as a fulcrum, he jerked his body to the side and grasped blindly for a piece of broken wood in the rubble. His fingers seized around a splintered, flaming plank, and he roared even as the flames burned his hand, igniting it with flames of his own.
He drove the broken board into the joint at its neck—the only unprotected place—with all the force he could muster, piercing flesh and finally putting the beast down.
As it burned away atop him, he burned spirit fire even more intensely, forcing himself to his feet before staggering back towards the man trapped beneath the beam. He grabbed his blade, and with a quick slash, freed the man from its weight.
The man was hardly able to walk, covered in burns and sporting a fractured leg, but he leaned on Wyn’s shoulder as they moved back towards the safe zone.
They’ll be there any second now, Eia said.
Wyn breathed a sigh of relief, and in the moment of clarity, remembered the life elixir Eryndor had given him. If ever there was a time…
He reached into the pouch at his side and pulled out the bottle. Rather than drink it—which he suspected wouldn’t work—he poured it onto his right hand, blistered and blackened after grabbing the burning wood.
The emerald fluid was cool to the touch, and to his shock, immediately soothing. He felt his spirit fire respond automatically, but it was muted, and only burnt away some of what seeped into his skin, almost like it wasn’t sure quite how to respond. The skin began to slowly peel away as new flesh grew underneath it. From the look, it would take a while, but it was working.
Wyn smiled thankfully, letting out another sigh as feeling returned in the hand.
So at least for surface wounds, it mostly works.
The vial was empty though, so he tossed it aside and focused back on the task of hand. The fountain was close, the crowd having grown to more than two dozen. His sword arm trembled faintly as he approached, from relief as much as weakness.
The ground cracked again.
In the midst of the plaza, splitting the fountain in two, the largest fissure he’d seen yet opened up. With a rumbling crash, stone rose up and formed a peak, pushed from below, before rupturing as a monstrous centipede burst up to the surface, large enough to rival a house, with chitinous grey armor and a hundred deadly limbs. Its mandibles twitched impatiently as it searched for the nearest prey.
“Get back!” Wyn screamed, releasing the man who had been leaning on him as he stumbled towards the beast. If it lunged even a single time…
The group scattered to the edges of the plaza, leaving an opening in the center large enough for Wyn to fight the creature, and he sped up as it finished dragging itself from the earth.
A shriek cut the air as one of the children he’d saved earlier tripped, her footing thrown by the trembling ground. She screamed, trying to scramble away from the monster, but it was already too late.
Wyn threw his blade in desperation, hoping to catch its attention, but it just bounced futilely off its exoskeleton. In his mana sight, he could see the density of its power—forget a deep floor monster, the centipede was on a whole different level. If he had to guess, it might even be comparable to the leviathan.
Arm outstretched, he could only watch as it lunged towards the crying girl, jaws dripping with some sort of sickly yellow venom, not that it would be necessary. He couldn’t make it in time…
But Sadirah could.
She’d been close when the creature had burst through the surface, only a few steps away from the girl. As soon as she’d noticed her tripping, Sadirah had turned around and sprinted back.
She dove, throwing her body the last five feet and using it as a shield as she threw her arms around the child.
The monster’s jaws caught her on the shoulder, tossing her into the air like she weighed nothing.
“Sadirah!” Wyn’s voice was raw.
She landed with a dull thud, absorbing the impact for the girl she’d grabbed. Her body went limp, blood oozing from a huge puncture wound on her shoulder, seeping onto the stone.
The strength drained from Wyn’s limbs in an instant, and he slowed, his frenzied run slowing to a sluggish limp. The girl stirred, shaking Sadirah’s body, as though she could wake up.
“Sadirah…” he whispered, his vision blurring. “You’re kidding, right? You can’t be… you wouldn’t—”
Die. He was about to mutter the words that might break him, but in that instant, his spine froze.
He’d stopped focusing the moment she’d hit the ground, and his mana sight had failed, the aura falling still in his body.
And yet, he saw as light began to stream off of Sadirah’s body, a shimmering, pearlescent light.
She was glowing with power, reminding him of how Corrin had looked on the night of the flood in Straetum. Except, if Corrin had been a candle, the power growing in the air around Sadirah was like a roaring blaze. Her body twitched, and then rose, more and more mana filling the air with each moment.
She wasn’t looking at the monster, but rather down at the girl she’d been trying to protect. She slowly wrapped her arms back around her, pulling the girl against her waist.
The monster was looking at her. And even in such an alien abomination, Wyn could sense its fear. It lunged, mandibles snapping, intent on ending what it deemed a threat as quickly as possible.
Wyn felt the pressure a split second before it hit.
A burst of raw aura, erupted out from Sadirah in a wave. As it spread outwards it ripped the stone asunder, razing the entire street and blasting a crater into the ground beneath her. As the wave slammed into the creature, it shattered its carapace like glass, and tore through flesh like paper. In a single instant, the entire monster blew apart, and the building nearest the two of them evaporated.
Silence fell over the street in the aftermath. The air, whipped into a fury by the force, slowly stilled, and no one dared move.
Amidst the destruction, the girl with lilac hair stood, still grasping the one she’d been trying to protect.
Vaguely, her head turned left and right, surveying the crater she’d created. She looked back at the crowd gathered on the edge of the plaza. Then, she looked over towards Wyn.
Her cheeks were wet with tears.
Comments
John Doe
thank you
LOLZMAN
Yeah, not really seeing how they can pull off a win with this. Clearly, the cult planned well, so unless some hidden good guy steps in, the city is doomed, and our heroes would be lucky to make it out alive. Seems Wyn isn't getting that cool powerup.
