Summoned A Hundred Years Too Late

The first thing that came back was sound.

A low, resonant hum ringing inside her head. Then heat, close to her face. Then the smell. Charred meat.

Alexandra opened her eye.

She was on her side. The greenhouse ceiling arched above her, iron ribs, glass panels still glowing cold blue-white.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position. There was a scorch mark on the dirt where Cael had been standing. At its center, collapsed inward, a black mass of goo.

She gagged. Looked away.

Gross.

Her entire body was aching, but her clothes were mostly intact. The explosion hadn’t hurt her too much. She stood. The same couldn’t be said for Cael.

I take it back. I love that curse.

While he used his pollen to incapacitate her, most of his reserves were apparently concentrated inside his body.

When curse of spontaneous combustion triggered and the explosion happened…

She turned toward the Yshant.

Fuck.

It was different. The stem had thickened, doubling in size. The flower had grown taller, now pressing against the glass panels on the ceiling.

The magical light flickered. It wasn’t done growing.

She took stock.

One working eye. Mana reserves somewhere between low and gone. Her sickle was on the ground near Cael’s remains, where she’d dropped it.

Dark Bolt had bounced off the stem when it was Gold. She knew what it would do on Platinum. Even with her sickle, it seemed impossible.

The Yshant shifted, its petals turning in her direction.

Fuck that guy. Didn’t Cael claim that it wouldn’t break through?

She had to find a solution, and fast. Else, it wouldn’t just be Esmera that would end up as fertilizer.

She summoned her journal.

Sure Footing 7 -> 8

Life Curse 9 -> 10

You are suffering from the curse of the one-eyed.

Sickle Mastery 9 -> 10

You’ve achieved a feat: Uprising II

Uprising II: Slay a Gold rank while being at the Iron rank. +5% all stats.

You gotta be kidding me.

Just when she could have used a flat attribute boost, she got a percent based increase instead. Better in the long run, but not what she needed right now. At least, it wasn’t nothing this time, one point in each stat.

She flipped the pages, looking for a skill that would help her. Sure Footing, Combat Sense, A Face Among Many. That wouldn’t work. Mana Manipulation? Even if she knew a combat spell, it wouldn’t be enough to make the beast budge.

There was nothing. She looked up at the Yshant. The formation was holding, but for how long?

Alexandra gritted her teeth. She should return and help the others. Maybe the Gold ranks could deal with it.

Maybe Sera would take action now that another Platinum had reared its head. She doubted it.

“Fuck.” She took a step away from what was left of Cael. “The city. It’s too late.”

The Yshant shuddered.

At its base, where the stem met the dirt, something moved beneath the soil. Then a crack, and a thin shoot broke the surface. Then another, three feet to her left. Then a third, near the far wall.

They grew fast. Each one pushing upward, unfurling red petals as they bloomed.

She watched them spread and that’s when she saw it.

The formation.

This was how the Merinus intended to deal with the Yshant. She bit her lip so hard that it drew blood. The metallic taste filled her mouth.

One of the smaller flowers released a red pulse. It hit her, forcing her back.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I need to fucking do something.”

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How does this damned thing work?

She looked at the formation, felt the mana flowing through the lines. It all gathered at one point, a circle at the edge of the picture toward which all the lines seemed to converge.

“To hell with it.”

She ran to the circle. Stepped inside.

“Now what?”

She tried reaching for the mana in the formation the way she’d reach for her own. It slipped. Too heavy, too unruly, she couldn’t get a grasp on it. She tried again. Nothing. The formation didn’t respond.

She pulled back and thought.

Then, she pulled a thread from her own core. She was running on fumes, but she had to try anyway. She pushed it outward toward the cluster of mana of the formation. The resistance was immediate. Like pushing a needle through leather. She pushed. Steady. An inch forward. Then another.

Then it caught. Locked in place.

The mana hummed.

Her breath came out ragged. She was shaking when she pulled a second thread and did it again. Having to keep part of her attention on the first thread made it infinitely harder. Her jaw tightened. The thread caught.

There was no place in her mind for doubt. It had to work. She pulled a final thread, her one eye closing to ease the mental strain.

It caught.

The formation flared.

The lines moved.

The nearest ones first, a dark blood color bleeding outward from where her threads had locked in, traveling the length of each channel. It spread through the formation, looping through the shapes drawn on the ground, converging around the center of the room where the Yshant grew.

She felt pressure through her threads. The formation was pulling on her. She held.

The smaller flowers were the first to show a reaction. Their petals retracted, their color drained as they withered and collapsed into the dirt, one after the other around the perimeter, each one folding in on itself.

Then the lines reached the base of the Yshant. It lurched. In a single violent motion, the stem bent toward her, rattling the glass panels above. The petals flared deep red.

The formation pressed harder. The lines climbed the stem now, visible against the pale surface, tracing it like veins. The flower lurched again. It couldn’t reach her.

The petals fought it. She watched them pull against the formation one by one, each one dimming as the spell hit it, curling at the edges.

The flower hung still, all resistance gone, petals collapsed inward.

Then the light came.

It started at the base of the stem and rose, red, deep, the same red as the petals had been but warmer, more alive.

Then it was gone.

Between one breath and the next, the Yshant was there, blood-lit, immense. And then it wasn’t. No sound. No disturbance in the air. The dirt where it had stood was undisturbed.

Alexandra collapsed to her knees as pain erupted all over her body. Her threads snapped from the formation. She was gasping for air.

The formation lines went dark.

Fucking sickness.

But she’d done it.

Alexandra let out a breath and looked at the empty patch of dirt where the Yshant had stood. Then she looked at the stairs. The surface. She needed to find the others.

She was trying to stand when the weight hit her. Her knees gave out and she fell face-first into the dirt.

She tried pushing herself up, but her arms were useless. She looked left and right, and didn’t see anything. Then she exhaled.

Inhaled. Nothing came through. Her breath was stuck. Her lungs empty.

The pressure spread all over her body, over and under, like something was trying to find a way in.

The ritual.

It had to be it. This was what the Merinus had been preparing. They wanted to sacrifice the Yshant to improve their bloodline, and now she was on the receiving end of it all.

Except it wasn’t working.

The energy was gathering around her, stopping her from breathing, but it wasn’t going in.

She tried standing again. To no avail. She opened her mouth, pulled at the air and got almost none of it.

Think.

She couldn’t pull her mana threads away from the formation, they had already snapped. Whatever was feeding this energy didn’t care about her mana.

The pressure built. Her vision narrowed, blurred at the edges.

She couldn’t save the city. Couldn’t even save herself.

But she did complete her quest. Probably. She couldn’t summon her journal to check right now. To think she didn’t even have to use the herbicide she commissioned for this fight.

Wait.

Maret. The herbicide. The potion. He’d told her she’d know when to drink it.

She certainly didn’t know. But it was now or never.

Bringing her hand to the satchel on her belt was a struggle. It barely responded when pushing against the pressure. The potion was still there. A small flask, wine-colored liquid. She brought it to her mouth, used her teeth to uncork the lid and let it flow down her throat.

It was acidic. Incredibly acidic. So much so that if the energy hadn’t surged once more, stilling her, she would have spat it out.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Come on. Do something.

The pressure changed.

It wasn’t gone. It hadn’t lessened. But the energy that had been crushing inward suddenly had somewhere to go. She felt it redirect, felt it move toward her mouth like a vacuum.

She still couldn’t breathe. It was even worse. She tried to hold on. Her body was shaking wildly from the energy intake.

Then it stopped.

She inhaled a long, long breath. The best she’d ever taken. Then she coughed. Vomited. Pushed herself to a sitting position. “Fuck.” She wiped her face clean.

Her head was spinning.

Her stomach grumbled. She was hungry.

So hungry.

She summoned her journal, and used her one valid eye to read the notifications.

Mana Manipulation 3 -> 4

Her eyes skipped over this line.

Floral Uprising: Destroy the Yshant behind the floral infestation in the plains of Baleria (1/1).

Kill three monsters blessed by the Yshant (3/3).

->

CON +1, INT +1, New skill: Giant Slayer,

This meant a new achievement.

You’ve achieved a feat: Rebellion II

Rebellion II: Slay a Platinum rank while being at the Iron rank. +10% all stats.

But unfortunately, that wasn’t all. She winced at the sight of the next three lines.

You are suffering from the Malediction of infinite hunger.

Augustus accepts your offering and blesses you with the Blood of the Verdant Lord.

Drain Life: Make a deal with Augustus, Demon of Blood (1/1).