The Forsaken Hero

Fable backed away as I closed my eyes, a gasp of pleasure escaping my lips as my mana surged into my soul. Its seductive warmth transcended all other sensations, even the fear of being surrounded by the Church and the Circle. It was simply divine, and I hungrily drew in more.

Even without looking, I could feel the air around me tremble, thick with the ambient mana drawn to my overflowing soul. Soon, the swelling tide of power became too much to contain, and I released my aura, letting it wash over the battlefield like a radiant dawn.

”Beautiful,” Kahlen’s hushed whisper voice startled me, nearly causing me to lose control of the immense power coursing through me.

”N-not now,” I pleaded, opening my eyes to glare at him. ”Please, just not now.”

He smiled faintly, his silver eyes reflecting the golden light emanating from my soul. ”How can I resist?” he murmured, his voice filled with an unexpected reverence. ”You’re like the sun itself, a radiant beacon calling to me. It’s no wonder my brethren lose control upon simply glimpsing your heavenly visage.”

I blushed slightly, though I knew he wasn’t referring to my physical appearance, but to the raw power of my soul laid bare. At least he possessed enough discipline to retain his senses in the face of such unbridled power. Any demons within a hundred miles, if not more, would be able to sense it, but that hardly mattered now that we were in the midst of a war. Let them come; it would only further burden Brithlite’s already strained forces.

As I began to weave the intricate runes of the spell, several powerful auras flared to life, matching mine in intensity and hurtling toward us at incredible speed. The Star Guard, who had formed a protective circle around me, tensed and exchanged determined nods.

”We’ll keep them off you, my Lady,” Luxxa said, her voice grim but resolute. ”Just do what you must, and leave the rest to us.”

I nodded, too absorbed in the spell to respond verbally. I felt their familiar presence retreating, leaving Fable and me alone. A cold weight settled in my stomach as the first shockwaves of their clash reached us, but I lightened my grip on my staff and continued to cast. Everything hinged on my ability to complete this spell, the entire plan resting squarely on my shoulders. Even if they were only sixth-level, they could handle themselves and wouldn’t die. They promised.

”Grand Aegis,” I whispered, the final rune shimmering into existence, completing the seventh magic circle. The spell was technically resolved, but the hardest part was yet to come—and the most dangerous.

Grand Aegis was a seventh-circle protection spell deeply intertwined with fate magic. It was immense, a direct counter to large-scale destruction spells, but it required an incredible degree of concentration and precision.

A faint magic circle materialized, encircling the entire battlefield, easily a mile in diameter, with me at its center. It was delicate and intricate, shimmering with a soft golden light, passing unbroken through walls, hills, and even the city itself.

I had deliberately positioned myself far forward, to ensure our advance into the city would be covered. While this guaranteed our success in taking the outer walls, it left me dangerously exposed, casting a spell of this magnitude in the heart of enemy territory. Like most seventh-circle spells, Grand Aegis required time to cast, even more so due to my inexperience with it. I’d only managed to cast it once before during my studies, and that had been on a much smaller scale.

Grand Aegis wasn’t a simple ward like Aegis or Blade Ward. Its intended use was on the battlefield, where friend and foe clashed in a chaotic melee. Plenty of weaker protection spells could cover large areas from enemy fire, but the true strength of a seventh-circle spell was its precision. It allowed me to designate which souls within its radius would be protected, leaving others vulnerable.

But in that strength was its weakness, as I had to designate which souls were protected personally. It was a painstaking process, but given the sheer number of souls in the Last Light Company, it was guaranteed to take at least several minutes. Until then, all of our most powerful mages would be occupied blocking the mana cannons and shielding their allies from the devastating spells cast by the Church mages. Fighting through the relentless bombardment and the ranks of Church soldiers would be nothing but a dream. I had to succeed here.

With a tired sigh, I formed a thin thread of mana and extended it across the battlefield, starting the process of weaving their souls into the spell. Once my mana brushed a soldier, they were automatically designated as friendly, with no further effort on my part.

Ordinarily, this connecting of souls would be an absurdly difficult task, with even the most experienced mages struggling to discern any soul other than their own. They were effectively grasping around in the dark, finding souls as much by luck as their own skill.

But the Oracle of Eternity easily allowed me to see the souls and precisely manipulate my mana. That left this the easiest part of the spell, though still the most time-consuming.

As I worked, my eyes roved the battlefield, searching for any sign of my companions. I found Korra and Gayron first; their battle was a spectacle of raw power. The inquisitor they faced was clearly a master of sun magic, employing peak seventh-level techniques with every thrust of his spear.

Surprisingly, it was Korra who fought him up front. Her movements blurred with swiftness and grace as she danced around his spear, always a hair’s breadth ahead of his attacks. The sheer destructive force of those attacks was evident in the massive collateral damage each missed stab caused. Concentrated rays of light erupted from his spear point at the peak of every thrust, ripping through the ranks of soldiers on both sides and tearing deep gouges and trenches into distant hills and mountains.

Just as the inquisitor overextended himself on a particularly powerful blow, Korra lunged forward with a series of lightning-fast strikes against his arm. Small, coiling serpents of water followed her fist, seeping into his armor and tearing at the enchantments. They acted like acid, melting and dissolving the magic wherever their aqueous fangs and claws touched.

With a pained shout, the Inquisitor swung his spear horizontally, hoping to catch her with the haft. Korra ducked the blow and spun out of reach, and he growled in frustration. The unstable aura emanating from his armor and the numerous cracks spiderwebbing across the polished steel armor were evidence this wasn’t the first time this exchange had played out.

But this time, Korra didn’t stop just out of range. Instead, she kicked off the ground and launched herself backward, landing a dozen yards away. Her aura surged, and a wave of water swirled around her, her shielding magic art she invented by copying the ability of the canyon crawler.

The inquisitor raised his spear, confusion etched on his face. He saw too late the ominous orange glow rising behind him like a vengeful sunset and the flames that roared towards him like a blazing comet. A primal scream escaped his lips as he was engulfed in the inferno.

A dark silhouette, towering twenty feet tall, emerged from the flickering flames, its claws poised menacingly above the writhing inquisitor. The first blow released a shockwave that scattered the fire, revealing Gayron in his full demonic glory. The inquisitor had managed to catch the claws on his shield, but the sheer force of the impact drove him to one knee.

Before he could recover, Gayron’s spiked tail lashed out, slamming into his knee with a sickening crack. The inquisitor grunted, his face contorted in pain, before desperately thrusting his spear at Gayron. The spear struck like a viper, piercing through Gayron’s armor and deep into his arm, emerging out the other side. Blood cascaded from the wound as the inquisitor tore his weapon free, leaving Gayron roaring in agony.

The apostle’s aura exploded outward in a searing inferno, and he instinctively lashed out with his claws. The inquisitor, somehow, rode the blow, spinning through the air and landing on his feet a few dozen feet away. But before he could capitalize on Gayron’s momentary vulnerability, Korra materialized before him, landing a series of lightning-fast blows to his chest.

He staggered back, coughing up blood as her art penetrated his defenses, destabilizing his internal organs. His spear lashed out at her repeatedly, but she proved to be far more elusive than Gayron, whose sheer size made him an easier target. She evaded each strike with effortless grace.

The inquisitor refused to yield, making several attempts to strike at Gayron before he could recover, but Korra relentlessly pressed her attack, refusing to give him an inch. By the time he finally retreated, the Apostle of Fire had vanished, already plotting his next move.

It was a breathtaking display of teamwork and power, and one I couldn’t help but admire. The two fought in perfect synchronicity, as though they’d trained together their entire lives. Their abilities and styles complemented each other seamlessly, allowing them to easily suppress a peak seventh-level High Inquisitor, a warrior who could rightfully claim to be among the strongest in the world.

A pang of jealousy pricked my heart, but I quickly pushed it aside. I wasn’t meant to stand beside them on the battlefield; the Sun God’s curse had ensured that. I had my own role to play, and even if it meant standing alone, without the camaraderie they shared, I would stand nonetheless.