Michael Chatfield
patreon
Four Horsemen: Chapter: 15
🕑 Added 2023-10-26 11:00:05 +0000 UTCPetor stood and cracked his back. He’d adapted quickly to what Valter needed, doing the general cuts while leaving the detail to him.
He put the carving tool into the leather roll Valter had put on the altar and studied the pillar of celestial mana in the middle of the altar.
Valter stood up and essence flowed into Petor.
Mana surged towards Valter in a rush and quickly slowed.
“You increase your core?” Petor asked.
“Orange mixed with yellow,” Valter took out a scroll case, then a rough metal peg leg, putting it into the case, tying it closed and putting it on his back.
Couldn’t have been a leg. Right?
“That should be it,” Mya said. She stalked around the ritual in the floor. The last chalk lines depressed into the ground, Desari added the black ink before storing.
“We’ll position at the tunnel,” Mya said. “Valter you connect everything then get charged up.”
Desari moved with her, drawing her bow and moving to the opposite side of the tunnel entrance.
“Alright, lets see how much you can charge me up,” Valter said. He put away all the tools except one and pressed it to the altar, digging into it.
“Ready?”
“Aye!” Mya said.
“Yes,” Desari said.
“Lets do it,” Petor said.
Valter cut the last line, mana flared through his tool as it reached the other runic lines. He pulled it out, shaking his hand and stored it.
Sections of the altar dried up. Valter slashed through and changed several runes with quick movements. Hiding the changes and just where the damage was.
Mana flowed like lightning water, glowing through the inscription, down the side of the altar, then hit the ritual, splitting and spreading. A black miasma floated above it as lines filled, joined, diverged and filled it.
Petor nodded and took out his spear. He gritted his teeth and slapped one hand on Valter’s shoulder, then pressed the spear forward into the stream of mana.
MANA bloomed and spread through his channels faster than it spread through the ritual. Petor circulated it through his channels and directed it through his body and into his hand on Valter’s shoulder.
His channels strained at the sheer volume of power. Part of the mana diverting to heal his body and recover.
The comfortable flow through his channels turning rough, as if he had been wearing a comfortable pair of shoes, but a days walking had worn his foot raw.
Pain was pushed to a back corner of his mind, something to deal with later. Minutes ticked over as he ground his teeth against the pain.
“Oh, I gotta say, I’m feeling fired up. Valter’s armor shifted and moved around him, inscriptions hidden between the plates of armor lit, embers growing hot, flames ignited around his armor.
Valter breathed in, the flames drawn in and quelled. His exhale releasing black smoke.
He drew his shield, its plates pushed out shifted and locked back into position, a thing of reformed and tempered metal, hammered by smith, by sword, by spear. Dented and bloodied by battlefields a hundred over.
An inner section spread out, covered in dense inscription, they flowed down the back of the shield, connecting to the ones on his hand and arm, his shield locked to his arm, they flares as one, ignited and united together.
He drew his smithing hammer, its runes lit through the handle and covered its head. Heat radiated off of him, causing the air to shimmer.
He twirled the hammer in his hand, turning and setting his legs and shield.
Petor took his hand from Valter’s shoulder and placed it on his medallion. It eagerly accepted the mana as he poured it in.
Never know when you’ll need more mana. Thanks Yaaseen.
He drew his spear from the pillar of mana and staggered away, half mana-drunk. His channels started healing immediately, they’d been trying to do so the entire time but the current of mana was damaging him as fast as it tried to repair.
Petor stretched.
The room shuddered.
“Berox is at the entrance,” Desari said, her eyes purple.
A yell filled the tunnel and the room, the sound of footsteps slamming into the ground.
Mya dropped a cannon that broke the ground where it’s four wheels hit the ground. Mana flowed through the cannon, alighting the inscriptions along its frame and barrel.
Petor moved to the right with Valter. His armor glowed with magma seams and inscriptions. He turned his hammer in his hand—eager.
“Pissed off lil fucker aren’t yah.” Mya cranked on a handle, sighting down the cannon.
She drew out a stick with a sparking end.
“Fire!” She commanded, tapping the sparking stick to the back of the cannon.
Petor could make out Berox, charging forward, his steps carrying him a dozen meters as he fought to not plow into the ceiling. He was three quarters through the tunnel!
“Defi-“ Light burned into Petor’s mind, that and the grin on Mya’s face. Sound crashed through his head, then disappeared to return with a violent and painful ringing.
Mana flowed through his eyes and ears, returning his senses.
The cannon was back a good five meters, halfway up the steps of the altar.
It disappeared into Mya’s storage.
Mana filled the ritual. Mana was diverted, sinking into it and then burst, a grey smoke spreading out in a streamer, leaving no sign of its passing.
The priests shifted and rose, smoke of the same light-grey spread down their fingers to create talons.
With a scream, Petor guessed it was a scream because he could barely fucking hear! They launched themselves down the hallway.
He couldn’t see anything down the tunnel.
Golden light flashed in the dark tunnel.
“Well, guess he’s still alive,” Petor sighed and pulled on his shield, strapping it to his arm. His ears popped painfully as noise came back, the last of the, yeah they were screaming, priests cut down in a golden flash.
“Take this,” Desari threw a potion vial.
“What is it?” He studied what looked like watered down honey with a brown sludge at the bottom.
“Shake it up and drink it, it’ll help. Valter!” She threw him a potion as well.
“What the hell.” He swirled the potion and took it like a shot.
A shiver like he was cold in his bones ran through his body, replaced with a flush of energy that ran counter to the shiver.
He switched out his spear for the one Valter loaned him his mana moved smoother, his breath filled him with energy that left his head buzzing.
His focus slimmed down to the hallway as the last of the screams ended. He emptied the mana within his channels.
Anything dies from bleeding too much I just need to bleed him of essence and mana.
Berox shot into the room, with a sword in his hand. His armor was falling off of him, stained where the cannon ball had struck him.
Valter let out a yell and rushed to meet him. Mya fired a rifle. The shot pierced his shouldr and black veins traced out from its point of impact.
Desari spread her hand, Berox clawed at his face, and glared at her.
Valeter crashed into him with his shield.
Berox’s sneer disappeared as Valter’s shield activated. He smashed into the wall, and along it, Valter’s feet leaving furrows in the ground.
He stepped forward and lashed out with his sword. He stabbed into Berox’s stomach and tore it back out, pulling entrails and covering the floor in blood. Petor reeled from the smell of superheated intestines.
Mya fired again, pushing Berox against the wall again.
Petor stabbed at his chest, Berox deflected the spear point to his stomach. It was like stabbing a stone wall.
His spear head went in just an inch and a half.
He’d only poked at the stream of power going into the altar. This was like shoving himself into the middle of a hundred foot waterfall.
He tore the power from Berox, not focusing on drawing it into himself or to his core, just to drain.
Valter threw his arm infront of Petor’s head and triggered, throwing Berox back before he could slash Petor as he jumped backwards.
Valter and Berox clashed, Berox yelled but Petor couldn’t hear him, Desari weaved her spell.
Black veins spread out from Mya’s attacks. Petor stabbed where he could, each wound he inflicted a spigot that leaked power.
“Damn his lungs are strong!” Desari yelled.
Berox slammed his foot into the ground, a ripple a half meter tall spread from him.
Petor jumped the first as Berox stomped his other foot.
Valter just got over it, stumbling as the second came both of them were ready for it. Petor jumped forward, the stomping stance full of holes as his spear raked Berox’s neck.
Just a few inches above a shimmer encapsulated his head.
Valter used Petor’s strike to close with the man, his blade came in a flurry of blows, cutting deep into Berox.
Berox attacked back, taking wounds to give them.
Valter’s armor, worn and pitted, rang out from the blows the man inside using his armor as a shield, trusting in its strength to land increasingly deadly blades.
The world sharpened more as Petor watched the duo, his spear itching in his grasp. He drew mana into his muscles, his own speed much less than theirs, he wold only be abel to fight for a few explosive exchanges.
Berox continued to slow, the ground under his feet shifted.
Like and arrow from a quiver he flew towards Desari. Petor raced after him.
Mya’s rifle cracked, Berox was tossed to the side into Petor’s path. Mana flooded his channels, his spear, its edge glowing red hot. His aim focused totally on Berox, the rest of the world another reality. He played through his actions in his mind twice, down to the individual muscles to activate.
He and his spear were one as he planted his feet, his muscles uncoiled driving forward in a singular flowing motion that ended with his spear, driving through Berox’s back and into his ribcage.
Petor yelled his muscles straining as mana burnedthrough his mana channels, healing him at the same time. It was beyond his mind as he raised the struggling Berox upright as if some terrible war-banner.
He drove the butt of his spear down into the floor.
Petor staggered backwards and sat down. Valter stepped ahead of him, looking at the faintly struggling Berox.
He was still twitching, trying to hack at the spear through him.
His blade fell to the ground. Berox slumped, essence came out of him in a thick wave and hit each of them.
Orange darkened but still no yellow flecks appeared. Petor wiped his face and stood.
“Was hoping that would be enough to push us up a stage,” Mya said. “Well, one champion dealt with, one god turned battery and one distraction underway. I figure its time we make like a sailor who ran out of coppers two days ago.”
Valter pulled the spear from the ground with a grunt and dropped Berox to the side. He drew a dagger.
“What are you-?” Petor began.
Valter drove his blade into the man’s chest, opening it and pulling out the core within. It shone Green flecked with blue. Mid epic grade core.
Though there was golden light and misty white mixed within.
“Powerful one that,” Valter put it into a storage device. He collected his gear.
Petor held him down with a foot and drew his spear from Berox’s back.
Berox withered and started to twitch, all his valuables removed.
“Ouu! Undead champion, hah!” Mya jumped. “Pull that spear out of him will you!”
Valter tore it out and handed it to Petor.
‘Berox’ jumped up, eyes filled with white flame. He studied each of them. Finding nothing he turned and ran.
“Should we let him go?” Petor asked.
“Just an undead now following the compulsion we put on the altar and the formation. Working nicely I must say. We’ll check how its doing on our way out.”
“What was that spell you were using on him?” Valter asked.
“Vaccuum, it creates an area where there is no air for one to breathe.” Desari said, then dropped out the head priest. Still stuck to his chair with a dagger. He started twitching as she looted anything remaining and then pulled the dagger out of him. He scrabbled for the exit.
“That’s why he was panicking, nasty way to go.” Valter turned his head to the altar. “What are we going to do with this?”
“Leave it and get the hell out of here while everyone’s fighting the undead,” Desari said.
“If we leave it going then all of the souls, the murderers and the innocents are going to be trapped within the thing without rescue.” Mya moved closer to the altar. “I have a way to fix that, well at least send those souls to a place where they can get judged fairly.”
“I’m going to add a trap to the altar, if anyone starts messing around with it they’ll get shocked, each time the shock will increase.” Valter took out a sheet of paper and started carving in to the altar rapidly.
“Once we’ve got the last touches done on this thing, you want to cover it in stone Desari?” Mya asked.
“Sure,” Desari sighed and moved closer.
It took them all of ten minutes to carry out. Petor recovered what remained of the metal string, the nails had been torn out of the wall.
Valter finished his runes, Mya changed the formation at the rear of the altar. Desari summoned the ground to cover it.
“Alright, now lets get out of here,” Desari said.
“Agreed,” Valter said.
“I’ll rig it up to collapse,” Mya said.”
They passed him Mya trailing behind, she threw out casks into the altar room, each attached by a string, she tied it to a series of strings and candle looking things. Petor hung back from Desari and Valter, close enough to Mya if she needed a hand..
“Ella watch over them. Judge them by their deeds, not their alliegances.” Mya’s words were soft, and undeniably a prayer as she left the altar room.
Petor kept after the others, who she prayed to was up to her.
The tunnel gave way to the cathedral.
“Well, great day to blow up an ancient religious site!” Mya drew a white flame with her fingers and touched a bundle of strings.
Hrsssh the strings burned and disappeared down the tunnel.
Mya whistled to herself.
They exited the cathedral, smoke rose over the city, fires raging.
“There should be horses at the supply point we dropped off the cart,” Petor said.
“Valter!” Clemens yelled and started to run over with a group of people.
“Keep it short we need to get out of here,” Desari said.
“Berox just charged into the ruins! You must’ve just missed him. We need to get out of here, the city is coming apart, the dead are coming back to life and fighting everyone. They’ve missed us so far.” Clemens reached them as they slowed their pace to a quick walk.
“Take these potions.” Desari shoved a crate into thehands of the nearest person. “Put one in a barrel, mix it and then drink it. It’ll counteract the poison that the priests were dumping into the river.” She took out another crate and passed to another person. “Put these into the water that runs through the city at the highest point, make sure no one drinks the water for two days, and boils the water that they got in the last two. Everyone needs to be dosed with the first. The poison is quick acting depending on the concentration, it will take a few hours to a day to act.”
The two looked at Clemens.
“Do as she says, take everyone that you need send out barrels with the cure with the groups heading down into the city. Organize another group to pour the potions into the fountains.” He looked back at the group. “Anything else I should know?”
“Berox is dead, he was drawing in the souls of Jorai and everyone else within the city that died to fuel himself,” Valter said.
“Any dead will continue to rise, they’ll attack any one that is wearing the symbols of the Jorai, Ithram and Karenthal. They won’t attack anyone from the city. We made it so that you and Helena are the two that can control them. Get yourself an undead head, speak to it and the order will pass throughout them all,” Mya said. “Jorai is effectively dead and Sorelli protected by the dead.”
Clemens blinked several times.
“Just don’t go trying to dig up the altar down there, Alan will know what I mean. Rest of the mountain is all good to explore,” Valter said as they reached the supply depot, carts, crates and materials were thrown around the place hap-hazardly.
Petor and Desari left them to fill in Clemens and his people to search.
“Aint a horse to be found, only the carts,” Petor said as he jogged back to the group at the edge of the supple depot.
Mya looked at the city and then over at a cart. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re on the top of a hill.” She chuckled to herself as she walked towards the cart, the others following.
“Good luck Clemens,” Valter clasped his hand.
“You know that the gods are going to curse you for this right?”
“Several have already,” Desari said.
“Just who are you people?”
“We’re the four fucking horsemen, Clemens my’boy!” Mya laughed.
