The Forsaken Hero

Mana exploded from my soul, forming several sixth-circle Mirror Locks behind me. As the silver magic began to coalesce, Lord Evlon’s eyes widened, and he launched a bolt of raw mana at me. Fable pounced on it like a cat playing with a mouse, batting it from the sky.

Without the inquisitor’s interference, the spells resolved, and four gleaming silver spheres snapped into place. Only four, and yet soul casting that many at once had taxed my soul to the limit, leaving me gasping for breath.

I watched, stomach twisting, as nothing happened. The Mirror Locks had formed around empty air. Had I been wrong? Was Evlon’s plan unrelated to the anomalies I’d spotted earlier? If that were true, then I’d just wasted my only chance to resist whatever he was plotting.

A shimmer appeared in the sphere closest to me, around the strange warp in Fate I’d picked out earlier. Mana appeared out of nowhere, shedding from a figure-shaped blob of empty space like cascading water. The same thing happened in the other three spheres, which I’d placed as much by instinct as anything.

I hadn’t been wrong. They were using the same tactic as before, but this time, I was ready for them.

”Damn it,” Evlon hissed, glaring at me past Fable.

Four sixth-level inquisitors appeared, whatever magic they were using to hide themselves from the Oracle of Eternity failing within the discordant field generated by the Mirror Locks. Only, Mirror Lock would only cut them off from anything on the outside, not cancel any effects they had personally on themselves, which meant...I’d missed one. The one actually casting the spell.

But before I could search for another anomaly in fate, the inquisitors struck. Ignorant of my spells’ power, or perhaps confident they could break through, each mustered their mana in an explosive attack. AN assassin, with a silver dagger gleaming with mana, was the first to move, launching a sixth-level magical technique at the shining sphere trapping him.

”No!” Evlon shouted, but his warning came too late.

The dagger crashed into the Lock, releasing an explosion of sun magic. Adaptive resistant flared, protecting the spell from the worst of the damage, while the Mirror Lock absorbed the mana itself, directing it into a shockwave that reflected back into the sphere even stronger than before. The explosion lit the sphere like a beacon, reflecting countless times within the enclosed space, consuming the inquisitors in blinding light. The faint silhouette visible within staggered back, eroding in real time until nothing remained but rocheting sun magic.

The other inquisitors froze, staring in horror at the mirror lock that held their companion, which now resembled a miniature, burning sun, the light getting ever bright. To managed to stall their attacks in time, but the third--a mage--was already too far gone.

In a desperate effort to save himself, he bit his own tongue, ending his chant just before it finished. The sixth-circle spell shivered and shattered, the mana within going berserk and flooding back into the mage. The backlash tore into his soul like a jagged knife. He doubled over, shuddering with every breath, a mist of blood tainting each exhale.

There was no time to celebrate, though, as a fifth figure rippled into place not a few feet in front of me, the one I had missed. He was tall and broad shouldered, wearing silver full plate armor that lacked the stylized sun of the inquisitors. An amulet with an overwhelming magical aura hung from his neck, shaped like a fist clutching a heart made of diamond. I had to shield my eyes from its brilliance. A divine artifact.

”W-who are you...?” I gasped, stumbling backward.

The figure stalked a step closer, a glowing sword materializing in the air beside him. My eyes widened as I looked up, past the aura of the artifact, at the soul of a hero.

”Impossible,” I whispered, tail going rigid.

”You couldn’t have believed I would die, that I would let your crimes vanish into the night?” the hero asked. ”You can’t escape Justice. No one can.”

”Victor...?” My voice was strained, choked with disbelief. ”But you...you died.”

I came up hard against a blackened tree, my breath turning to a sharp gasp. He chuckled, folding his arms. A spear and war war hammer appeared alongside the floating sword, orbiting him like moons.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the condescending glower on his face twisted into a grimace. He touched his chest, and my breath caught.

”You’re hurt,” I said softly, scarcely believing my eyes.

Corruption flowed off him, thick and oily, corrupting his aura and sheathing his soul in darkness. It was far worse than I’d seen in Brithlite, spreading to match the intensity of the corruption that scarred Levin before he died. A dozen powerful magic items adorned the Justice Hero, saturating his body with life magic.

”You’ll...pay for what...you did...” he gasped between breaths, pulling his spear out of the air, leaning on it.

”Victor...” I whispered, biting my lip. ”I...I can help you. The church has been lying from the beginning. I saw everything: the gods, the demons, the beginning. They’re trying to enslave this world, just like the emperors.”

”You’re lying,” he said, straightening, his breath easing again. ”Your crimes are laid bared to my eyes. Your soul...is crimson with sin.”

”No,” I pleaded, clasping my staff tightly. ”Please, listen to me. I...I’ve hurt people, but all because I want them to be free. They deserve more than to live as cattle, enslaved by a god or demon.”

Victor’s episode had passed, leaving him in control of himself. It was clear he was hurting, but he could strike me at any time. But he didn’t. he hesitated, glancing at the inquisitors around us. I pressed on, hope stirring in my chest.

”Victor, the heart crest is--”

”Enough!” Lord Evlon cried, ”The Fate Hero gave us three, maybe four minutes till her allies reach us, and half that has passed. Hero, kill or capture her. Do not let her poisoned tongue sway you from the truth. Finish her, and--”

Fable lunged at the high inquisitor, forcing him to turn all his attention or risk being overwhelmed. The fury of their battle swept over us, joining the clash of R’lissea and Connor, and the demon horde against the undead. But though the air stirred with mana and roared with shockwaves, Victor and I were utterly still.

”You killed Levin,” Victor said quietly.

”No...” My tail curled, grip tightening on my staff. ”Victor, you have to believe me.”

His eyes hardened, and his aura exploded, bearing the peak of seventh-level. His strength was far from his own, yet the pressure staggered me, pushing me back against the tree. Black dots danced across my vision as I clutched at my staff, fighting for every breath.

”The Light of Justice,” Victor said coldly. ”The ability to judge a soul for its sins. The weight you feel is the burden of your own guilt.”

He waved his hand, sending his sword and hammer streaking forward. They collided with my wards, shaking them. I dropped to my knees, panting heavily. Sweat rolled down my forehead, stinging my eyes. It was so hard to think, to concentrate, to do anything to defend myself. His aura was worse than any I’d felt, save for the punishment of the Divine Curse I bore.

A screech tore through the clash of battle as Borealis plummeted from the sky, talons extended. Victor raised his spear, slashing with the tip like it were a sword.

The wind blades of the clash ripped trees out of the ground and tore nearby demons and undead apart. The Justice Hero gritted his teeth, muscles bulging as he pushed back against Borealis, spear grinding against his talons.

Borealis broke the clash, sending Victor’s spear crashing into the ground. The hero’s mana, filling the weapon to the brim, detonated as it pierced the ground, blowing a chasm thirty feet deep. I yelped as the ground rolled, falling onto my butt.

”To me!” Victor cried.

His other two armaments left my wards, converging on Borealis. He dove and wheeled, narrowly avoiding their strikes, but found no room to maneuver for a strike on Victor himself.

A sudden roar caught my attention as I struggled to my feet. Fable flew through the air, smashing into an ancient tree. It had deep roots, surviving everything that assailed it during the battle, but the trunk groaned beneath the force of the impact, splintering and falling to the ground. I cried out, running toward my fallen wolf, only to freeze as Levin’s spear swung around, pointing at my throat.

”Fable!” I cried, tears springing to my eyes.

Behind the justice hero, Fable rolled to his feet, giving his coat a shake. A long line of crimson blood dyed his fur, running from his shoulder to his flank, but there was no time for relief. With Fable, staggered, Evlon was free to move. His soul was weak; he must have expended a massive amount of energy to knock Fable away, but he wasn’t wasting the chance.

”Well done,” the high inquisitor said, landing lightly beside Victor.

He raised his sword, bringing it down hard on my wards. They shattered, unable to resist a direct attack by an eight-level being. I fell backward, the tip of his sword carving a channel between my legs.

”Last chance, filthblood,” the inquisitor said calmly. ”Surrender, or die.”