Seven PM, a darkened classroom on the Kimberly main building's first floor.
Several figures stood before a large mirror on the wall.
"Everyone here? First, thanks for making this choice."
Before the mirror stood a seventh-year girl, Lesedi Ingwe. Around her were
Tim and the other Watch members and every third-year from the meeting the
day before. The Sword Roses were among them, albeit in separate groups.
"There's a lot of us, so we're gonna split into squads and head to our
destination that way. With these numbers, dividing your forces is standard
procedure for labyrinth traversal. Crowds just provoke the labyrinth ecosystem
and bring unexpected trouble. Worth remembering. Move out!"
With that abrupt conclusion, Lesedi nodded to the other squad leaders. Half
took their teams through the mirror, and the other half headed out through a
different entrance. Katie's and Chela's teams were with the latter group. Oliver
caught their eyes one last time—a promise they'd come back safe. Then Lesedi
approached him.
"Team Horn, I'll be your supervisor today. I saw how you all moved in the
match, and I'm expecting good things."
"We'll do what we can," said Oliver. "But Ms. Ingwe, shouldn't you be
prepping for the main match?"
"If our first match was against Echevalria, I wouldn't be here. But it ain't. Still
a little luck on our side."
She grinned and turned back to the mirror. Oliver, Nanao, and Yuri followed
her through. After a few seconds of darkness, they were thrown out into the
dim halls of the labyrinth.
"Shaaa!"
A warg had launched itself at them, but Lesedi's roundhouse kick tore into it.
The head exploded, sending brain matter everywhere. Remembering the
senior-league prelim, Oliver shuddered for more than the obvious reason—
Vanessa Aldiss had shrugged this off?
"Careful," Lesedi warned. "All those alterations they did for the prelim have
the beasts in a bad mood."
"A most impressive kick!" Nanao said, delighted.
Lesedi ran off, never even glancing at the warg's corpse. They followed.
Passing through the first layer, Oliver voiced a question.
"…Same style? As President Godfrey, I mean?"
"Well spotted. Keen eye."
She grinned at him. Seeing them still keeping up just fine, she upped the pace
a bit, expanding on her answer.
"I'm the one who taught him a few tricks. These martial arts have been
passed down in my family for generations, rooted in a style the ordinaries
developed. Naturally, we've brought in sword arts techniques, blending the two
and making it more effective."
That made sense. Her skin was significantly darker than Chela's, suggesting
her roots were not of this continent. Those distinctive leg-based moves likely
hailed from there, too.
"You're orthodox Lanoff style, so it might just seem heretical. But it's got real
advantages against mages. Must have put some ideas in his head—your Rossi
was after me to teach him. I did what he asked, gave him five or six good kicks,
and he went home satisfied."
"…That does sound like him." Oliver sighed.
He'd been very aware that Rossi was devouring Koutz at a prodigious speed,
but it sounded like he was adding to his bag of dirty tricks as well. The overhead
kick he'd used against Pete on the water in the lake district likely hailed from
there. That would make him even tougher to handle in the future.
They kept talking, avoiding the magic traps in the halls without anyone
needing them pointed out. Lesedi was keeping a close eye on their movements,
figuring out their predilections and how they fitted her own tendencies.
"Not a good match for Hibiya's flow. These moves would best suit you, Leik."
"Oh? Like this?"
Mid-strike, Leik smoothly sent his body spinning into a kick—an improved
copy of the kick Lesedi had used against the warg. A fundamentally different
physical demand than anything found in the three main schools, but his
reproduction was uncannily good. Lesedi's eyes narrowed.
"Yeah…but you sure pick things up creepily fast. What's your base?"
"Don't have one! If pressed, I guess stuff I gleaned racing around the
mountains."
"Huh…? Not sure I follow, but you mean…less trained skills than a freakish
knack? Fine, that makes it all the more worth honing."
Lesedi flashed her teeth. Yuri had clearly met with her approval—which was a
relief to Oliver. For all his good cheer, Yuri's personality was not for everyone.
Like Rossi, some people instantly despised him—so Lesedi not being one of
them was cause for rejoicing. Odds were they'd end up in mortal peril together
eventually.
"No matter what the labyrinth throws at us, the three of you can likely handle
it through the third layer. But it'll be a different story on the fourth. Strength
alone ain't enough."
"…We're going deeper? Where is this place?"
Oliver sounded dubious. Any deeper than the Library of the Depths and the
threat level skyrocketed—worse, they'd hit the trial at the Library Plaza. He'd
made it through there once with Karlie and Robert, but this party couldn't
handle it like that. They'd need an alternate strategy.
Catching the demand in his look, Lesedi snorted.
"Hard question to answer, there. Lemme start with this pretext—the
labyrinth is not necessarily always a one-way path down. There's the vertical
progression from first layer to second, second to third, but a number of strata
also have side branches."
"Hmm? Constructed like an ant's colony, you mean?" Nanao asked.
"Close enough, yeah. But we're talking about a stupid-huge labyrinth here.
Even Kimberly ain't got the resources to manage all these branches. Places
deemed lacking in benefits or not worth the cost get sealed and left to rot.
They're what we call the labyrinth's abandoned zones."
Their pace never once slowed. The stone-paved paths gave way to the
bustling forest. From that point on, all fell silent. For a while, they stayed
cautious. They were used to what this place typically offered, but there was no
guarantee there weren't deep monsters brought up for the prelims still
lingering around. Still on their guard, they slipped through the forest's gloom.
"…Calmer than I expected," Oliver said, taking it in.
The faculty had clearly put in the work to restore things. The second-layer
beasts were having a few territorial conflicts, but otherwise there were no
obvious changes. They'd likely evacuated the original residents somewhere
before bringing in the more powerful beasts. Oliver couldn't begin to imagine
how, but possibly all it would take was a howl from Vanessa Aldiss.
Once over the irminsul, they were almost to the end of the layer. The trees
thinned, and there was no more risk of ambush. That loosened Lesedi's lips.
"Back to the abandoned zones. Ordinarily, students never venture into them.
Nothing to be gained by going there. But there are exceptions. Like if you come
in equipped with extraordinary magical techniques that let you remodel those
vast spaces to your liking, making a garden all your own."
All present had cleared the Battle of Hell's Armies, so they blew right past it,
into the marshes of the third layer. Lesedi was clearly taking them on a different
path than the one leading to the fourth stratum, and they assumed this led to
the branch in question. Her back to them, Lesedi continued her lecture.
"Rivermoore did just that. You can't even call that thing a workshop. By the
time we noticed, it was already his kingdom. One where he's the only living
thing. A kingdom populated entirely by the undead."
Imagining what that meant, Oliver gulped. He was picturing the third layer
under Ophelia Salvadori's control: the native beasts gone, replaced by
grotesque chimeras, the very air filled with her maddening perfume.
Rivermoore's territory was on that scale, yet he had put far more time and
effort into creating it. How horrifying it must be.
They pushed through the tall grass around the swamp and saw a dark cave
yawning up ahead. Lesedi plunged straight in, and the others followed. Yet—
"Mm?"
"Oh, a dead end?"
—five minutes into the cave, having taken several forks, they hit a wall.
Wrong turn, perhaps? Before they could ask, Lesedi waved her athame at the
rock face…
"Fragor!"
…and blew the wall down. This was hardly anything as fancy as a secret
entrance; she'd simply used brute force to open a hole to the other side. Dust
flew, and air rushed out—singularly stale air. The feel of it on their skin made
one fact clear: They were entering the warlock's domain.
Athames swiftly in hand, the group advanced beyond the blast site. Bathed in
a glow, white like moonlight, was a vast gray land on which sprouted countless
bones in lieu of grass. The hole behind them sealed on its own, and the flow of
air died—no winds at all. A spectacle that went beyond sinister into the
downright unreal, like they'd stepped from their world into the next.
"Brace yourselves," Lesedi growled. "Border patrol incoming."
All three made ready for battle. The bones scattered across the ground were
quivering…and soon sprang to life, putting themselves together, assembling
into a towering form. Blocking their path was a thirty-foot-tall three-headed
beast—the bones of a cerberus.
"These ain't like magic beasts or chimeras. You know where to aim?" Lesedi
asked. She stood at the fore, unperturbed, her arms folded.
Making swift observations of their foe's appearance, Oliver said, "Can't expect
blood loss or organ damage, so if there's a weakness, it must be the bones
driving its mobility. With this creature, severing the spine seems effective."
"Correct. A good start. I'll get in close and draw its attention. Take your time
lining up the shot if you need it, but hit that back hard."
Short and sweet. She was already charging in. Oliver, Nanao, and Yuri spread
out, moving into position. The lifeless cerberus released a howl, as if dictating
the laws of this realm, as if rebuking the arrogance of the living.
At the same time, the other squads were smashing into the abandoned zone.
"Frigus!"
"Flamma!"
Pete's and Guy's spells flew at the bone beast's spine. Ice and fire spells at
once, exploiting the temperature gap to weaken the target. Mentally giving
their performance a passing grade, their supervisor—Tim "Toxic Gasser" Linton
—was busily opening and closing the lid on his hip pouch.
"Tch…babysitting is so not my thing! How am I supposed to use any decent
poison?"
While his struggle may have been internal, his muttering reached their ears
and made the younger students all the more intent on taking this creature out
before poison was needed. But that was easier said than done. Each step Guy
took, his soles told him this land was dry as a bone, not a drop of moisture
anywhere.
"Soil this parched, tool plants aren't happening—how you doing, Katie?"
Certain one of his strengths wasn't an option here, Guy shot a question over
his shoulder. Since the battle began, Katie had been drawing an elaborate
diagram on the ground.
"…I'm good," she answered with a nod. "It links up."
She sounded confident. She went down on her knees by the magic circle and
began chanting.
"Come to me, Marco, Lyla. Sequitor."
The circle activated, lighting up—and a wind began to blow. A gust across a
windless plain—proof she'd opened a gate to elsewhere. Katie's diagram was a
bridge between two separate points in space, and across that bridge came two
figures: Marco, a troll in heavy armor wielding a hammer, and Lyla, a griffin with
a saddle on her back.
"Damn, nice pawns you got there. How come you didn't use these in the
league?" Tim snorted.
Forcing back the exhaustion of the massive mana expenditure, Katie
managed, "They're not much good for stealth. Didn't want to trot them out just
to use as a distraction."
The ground shook as the troll and griffin advanced on either side of her. The
pact she'd formed with her familiars established a channel to them; by
temporarily expanding that, she was able to summon them to her location. It
took a lot out of her, but the advantages of having large familiars around more
than made up for that.
"And one more thing—they aren't pawns. They're my friends."
A skelebeast, sharp claws flailing, two figures dashing around beneath its feet.
One was the upper-forms supervisor and the other a third-year, Rosé Mistral.
While the monster chased them around, the other three were casting spells
from outside claw range. The beast staggered, and the real Mistral grinned.
"Hya-ha! Adorable! So easily fooled!"
"Impetus! Back in the habit, huh?"
"Can't be acting all sedated when we're up against something this
spooktacular! I had nightmares 'bout the display skeletons in my mom's
workshop as a kid! Ahhh, the horror, the horror, would that I had a blanket to
hide beneath!"
Despite his claims, his control over his splinter never once wavered. The older
student backing that play was suitably impressed. The illusion of extra numbers
made it far easier for her to be out front—especially since, unlike flesh-andblood juniors, there was no need to protect a splinter.
A massive tail swung into a sweeper blow. A third-year girl ducked smoothly
under that, delivering a counter slash at the base of the creature's tail, severing
it. Down its greatest weapon, the beast flailed.
"It seems no tougher than the living ones," Jasmine Ames whispered.
"Though I'm hardly an expert."
"You're our queen, Jaz!"
"We're kicking this thing's ass!"
Two burst spells hit the spine, snapping it, and the teammates flanking Ames
struck a triumphant pose. But even as they celebrated, their supervisor pointed
at the crumbling skeleton.
"Hate to burst your bubble, but it ain't done yet. Here's where it gets nasty."
They followed the upperclassman's finger…and found the bones
reassembling. The broken spine now formed two columns, merging with the tail
Ames had severed and producing two new skelebeasts. Ames's minions gaped.
"Huhhh?!"
"No fair! I call no fair!"
"…Fascinating," said Ames. "The bones rebuilding into new forms. That is
'nasty.'"
Four bony legs kicked the ground, pouncing on its quarry. A furious assault,
but Rossi smoothly slipped past it. The approach itself was rather like what
Teresa had demonstrated in the combat-league prelims, but his transparent
lack of enthusiasm drew all the more ire.
"Ugh, do I 'ave to be 'ere? My 'eart is as empty as this skeleton's ribs."
"You speak as if you had depth to begin with. Fragor!"
Albright's spell hit the exposed flank, snapping off a chunk of the rib cage.
Rossi kept baiting it as Andrews nodded.
"…You noticed it'll shape-shift, so you're damaging the bones first."
"It's clearly got a lot of extra bones the living ones don't have. Take it down
wrong, we'll be stuck fighting more."
"Whatever! Fight 'ow you like."
All three nodded and kept going. The upperclassman watching them fight—
Khiirgi Albschuch—had neither moved to help nor offered words of advice. She
was simply watching their every move.
"Such skilled children. Haaa-ha. How tantalizing."
She licked her lips, and a shiver ran down all three spines. Their ally behind
them was far more frightening than the foe in front—on that one point, the trio
of third-years agreed.
Battles had broken out across the border, but since everyone spent time
observing the unknown foes, nearly all squads wrapped up the fighting almost
simultaneously.
Oliver's team had been up against the cerberus, and after one transformation
and two takedowns, it was reduced to an unmoving heap of bones.
Arms folded, Lesedi nodded. "Solid first try. Good work."
Oliver was relieved to receive a passing grade.
Her gaze already past the fallen foe to the gray expanse beyond, Nanao
sniffed the air.
"…No scent of life to be found," she said. "And yet, I sense maneuvers being
made. An odd place indeed."
"You picked up on it? Yeah, this place is one of a kind. Hard to explain—best
you feel it on your skin."
With that, Lesedi dropped her satchel to the ground. Then she opened it up,
stuck her hand in, and pulled out four white lumps—each looked like some sort
of skull, clearly far too large to actually fit in a satchel that size. No doubt they'd
been magically folded into the space via a compression spell.
"First, put these on."
"Hrm? The skull of an ape?" Nanao asked.
"Taken from a demon ape's corpse, engraved with a sigil. To what purpose
—?" Oliver asked, examining it.
Lesedi had already donned her skull, her eyes shining between the halves of
its jaw.
"Like I said, this place is unique. In a graveyard, the living stand out among the
throngs of the dead. Thus, if we act like we're dead, we'll have an easier time of
it."
That all made sense. It was like wearing green and brown in the forest—a
form of camouflage specific to this locale. It might look bizarre but was well
worth it if fewer undead viewed them as hostiles.
Oliver put the skull on, and something poked him in the back. Wondering
what that something was, he turned around—and found Nanao wearing her
skull, arms held high yet limp at the wrists, her tongue hanging out.
"Oliver! Oliverrrr! How I abhor thee!"
"Wh-what? Did I do something wrong?"
"This is how specters are believed to act where I'm from. Abhorrrr!"
"Huh, that's neat! What were ghosts like back home again? Hmm… Well,
there was this one time I ran into a severed head dangling from a fruit tree."
This alarming anecdote came from Yuri, also bone-bedecked. With all her
juniors fully equipped, Lesedi reshouldered her satchel and shrugged.
"These things won't work miracles. We cast any spells, that'll blow our cover
quick, and this disguise won't work on any of the better familiars. But there's
also a ton of sundry ghosts not directly under Rivermoore's control. They're
likely the vast majority. If we can pass through while avoiding unnecessary
fights, we'll conserve magic and energy."
This was hide-and-seek. Their focus clear, Lesedi led the way out into the
wasteland. The younger students followed on her heels.
"If we're gonna find him, we need clues. First, let's locate a town."
"A town?!" Oliver yelped. That was the last word he'd expected.
Lesedi shot him a grin. "Don't be shocked. They may be dead, but they're
people. And when people gather, they make towns."
Her words were neither metaphor nor exaggeration—as Katie's team had just
discovered.
"…Wh-what in the…?"
There was a town smack in the middle of all that gray nothing. The entrance
led directly to the main street, where throngs of dead roamed. There were
shops and stalls set up on both sides, staffed by the dead, serving dead
customers. In the center, carts pulled by bone horses threaded their way
through the shuffling hordes.
Guy peered down the road, unable to stop his eye from twitching. "…Place is
bustling, huh? I'd love to join in—if anyone here wasn't made of bones."
"They don't seem hostile…but what's this?" Pete asked. He squinted,
observing a stall. "Are they buying and selling things? From one undead to
another…?"
The wares in question seemed to be stones and bits of dried wood of various
shapes and sizes. The customers were paying for these…with much the same
things. Even without knowing what it was the undead wanted, it seemed
unlikely these transactions held any intrinsic meaning. And yet, they were going
through the motions.
As his juniors gaped, Tim muttered, "Ever tried controlling the undead? It's
harder than you'd think. If you're simply pointing them at someone, then you
just rile up their lingering hatred. But if you need them on standby, then you've
gotta find a way to stabilize their emotions. Fail to do that, and the curse energy
runs wild, or it wavers and gets absorbed by those around it. With only a few of
them, you can just manage them directly, but with numbers this ridiculous,
you've gotta create a specialized environment or you'll never keep up. That's
why Rivermoore remodeled the whole abandoned zone as a place where the
undead can kick back and relax."
Pete folded his arms, pondering this. That would explain why there was a
town here. But that still left a more fundamental concern.
"…Wait," Katie said. "Then where'd they all come from? Even the Scavenger
couldn't bring this many undead in from outside. I wondered the same thing at
the Battle of Hell's Armies…"
If there were no living, there were also no dead. These unnamed undead
before them and the spartoi fighting their never-ending battle—both must once
have been as alive as Katie was now. That was the primary difference between
these creatures and magical beasts.
"So I'll come right out and ask," she said, casting Tim a sidelong glance. "Who
were these people?"
His eyes on the dead running errands ahead, he replied, "You already know
the answer. No one brought them in. So there's only one place they could've
come from—they were always here."
"…The Parsu," Oliver whispered, digging the word up from the far corners of
his memory. His team was on a plateau, staring down at a different town from
the one Katie and the others were visiting.
Lesedi caught his murmur, and a smile crossed her lips.
"I'm impressed. The Wild Geese's catcher's an archeologist, too, huh?"
"I just know a few scraps about history predating the founding of Kimberly.
But I can't imagine another explanation. Since the labyrinth itself is a ruin of an
ancient magic civilization, then it makes sense for the residents to be here."
Oliver was merely analyzing the sight before him. Meanwhile, Yuri had his
arms folded and his head cocked.
"Hmm…? But do souls even stick around that long? I had it in my head they
just, like, ascend after a while if you let 'em be."
"That's the general principle, yes. But that changes if they have particularly
powerful convictions or if they're bound by a spell. This is likely the latter.
They're not lingering; they're not allowed to leave. A magic contract forged in
life keeps their souls here. Probably something only achievable via the magic of
the time."
"…A pitiable plight," Nanao said, putting a name to the emotions swirling
within.
Oliver felt tempted to agree, but he stifled the urge. Whatever lay in the past,
what lay before them now was undoubtedly a land of death. It would not do to
let empathy stay his blade. Telling himself as much, he spoke as if words would
banish the turmoil within.
"…The years have taken their toll on these ghosts, and they have little mind
remaining. From the look of the town, they're simply repeating routines from
their lives, like children playing house. But the town itself is oddly modern. Even
the style of the buildings isn't that old."
"Yeah, Rivermoore had the undead build all this," said Lesedi. "I heard this
place was far worse before his arrival. Filled with the howls of the dead, their
minds long since ground away, yet still incapable of ascending."
Even as the warlock robbed the living of their bones in the labyrinth, here he
had spent a great deal of time making a place for the dead to dwell. Yet,
imagining that brought still more questions—Oliver struck a thoughtful pose.
"…His purpose eludes me. All this work to re-create an ancient kingdom for
the dead, but for what? Does it have anything to do with the students' bones?"
"That, I don't know, nor do I need to. No matter what he's after, we've got
one job here: get Godfrey's bone back ASAP."
Lesedi had no time for doubts. And in her position, cutting those free made
perfect sense. Oliver did not have that luxury. Yuri's reckless streak would not
end until Rivermoore's purpose became clear.
As Oliver's brain churned, Lesedi took her eyes off the town, scanning their
surroundings.
"You said the undead had no minds left, but that's not true for all of them.
The exceptions are far trickier. If they're driven enough to survive a millennium
—well, can you imagine how strong they are?"
That forced Oliver's mind back to the present. The skelebeasts they'd fought
on entry had been but heralds, and there were far worse things out here—that
was the gist of Lesedi's warning. Who knew how many?
"If we encounter one, we'll all need to do our part. If it proves too much,
group up with a nearby squad or beat a temporary retreat. But we shouldn't
run into all that many. The Watch and Rivermoore have clashed in the past, and
we've taken out quite a few of the tougher ones. Even he can't replace those
easily."
"Aha! You mean, this kingdom itself is pretty big, but he doesn't actually have
enough strong units to cover it. That means he can't afford to use his valuable
assets willy-nilly. He must have them carefully placed in important locations,"
Leik said, fearlessly getting right to the point.
Lesedi nodded. "Your team sure saves my breath. Yeah. Logically speaking, if
we follow the trail of exceptional undead, we'll get closer to Rivermoore.
Naturally, he'll have decoys out there, but the total number is finite, and he
can't make more."
But that also meant they could not avoid fighting these undead. Oliver took a
deep breath, steeling his nerve. Godfrey had been in predicaments like this on a
daily basis. But he'd be graduating this year—and next year, Oliver himself
would be in the upper forms. It was time to put his fears aside.
"Running around trying to find the strong undead is one plan, but there's a
faster way to accomplish that goal," said Lesedi. "That's why we're here, looking
down at the town. Anyone want to guess? I'll give you one hint—you had the
same thing done to you recently."
Quickly solving that riddle, Oliver drew his white wand, the tip aimed squarely
at the town below—and that was all it took for Nanao and Yuri to catch up.
They matched his aim.
"…Not sure I can land an attack from this distance, so what say we use
flashing lights and sound to draw them out?"
"Ha-ha! That'll work. No need to copy Ms. Ames. But remember this kinda
thing crops up in real combat. Another lesson for ya."
Even as she lectured, Lesedi aimed her own wand. Her eyes were always
laser-focused, but now they narrowed, gleaming like a bird of prey.
"The response won't take long. Be mindful of the direction and lag. Magnus
Fragor!"
"""Magnus Fragor!"""
Katie's team, too, was hurling spells at some other town, trying to bait a
powerful foe. Four burst spells sailed off, but rather than watch them land, Tim
urged his team on.
"Okay, no lollygagging! Move! First law of sniping!"
"Urgh, I'm sorry, everyone…! Your lives looked so peaceful, too!"
"No time for guilt! We'll end up skeletonized, too!"
Guy's words hit Katie like a slap on the back. This wasn't a pleasant approach,
but they were in Rivermoore's territory, and the undead in that town could turn
on them at any time. Being wishy-washy would not help here. Katie nodded and
kept running.
On their way to the next hiding spot, Pete called out, "Something's coming,"
his eyes off route.
Neither Katie nor Guy had sensed a thing, but in his female body, Pete's mana
detection tended to get pretty accurate. And he was soon proven right—a few
seconds later, Tim stopped in his tracks.
"That tingle on my skin—ha-ha! We got one, kids. A real winner."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than everyone could feel the mana
density. All eyes turned to the horizon—and a plume of dust rose up, eventually
revealing a herd of bone horses more than twenty strong. Each was ridden by a
skeleton, but Tim's eyes were focused on the knight at the fore.
At least 50 percent larger than the others, it wore weathered plate armor like
a general of yore, a massive halberd gripped in its hands. Beneath the helm, the
sockets of its skull burned with fires that raged on, even in death. An obsession
with battle, unbroken by the passage of time.
"Thank you, thank you. Showing up on the first day I'm around?" the Toxic
Gasser teased. "…Always did regret not taking you down in my fourth year. Now
I can pass the torch with a clear conscience!"
Tim gleefully reached for the pouch at his hip. Seeing the Toxic Gasser fired
up, Katie, Guy, and Pete kept their distance—but they all drew their athames,
prepared to face the oncoming threat.
Meanwhile, Oliver's team had followed similar tactics, moving from their
spellcasting locale to a hiding spot in the sand. Not long after, something
appeared in the skies above, surrounded by a flock of bone birds—clearly quite
different from the skelebeasts they'd fought. A black-robed figure, its shoulders
in the grasp of a large skelebird's talons. Two snakes grew from its body, and
where the eyes and nose should be was a swirling black vortex, the sight of
which made the hairs on the back of Oliver's neck stand on end.
"A zahhak…!"
"That's what they call 'em," Lesedi intoned. "Said to be the remnants of an
ancient mage, but no one knows for sure. Given their tendency to roam ruins
like these, they may originate in a tír migration. A creature of many mysteries,
accurate categorization included."
Oliver had seen one himself, his first year, just before taking out Darius. He'd
been aware he might run into one in the labyrinth someday but had never
expected it to be a familiar. Further proof of how powerful Cyrus Rivermoore
was.
"But we know how to beat 'em. This particular one's a first, but that just
means I get to teach you the ABC's of killing 'em," Lesedi explained. "First, use a
doublecant burst spell to bring down these birds. Match my cast on that."
All three nodded. Oliver began assessing the foes they were about to engage.
Including the one carrying the zahhak, there were five large skelebirds. Around
them flew roughly 120 midsize or small ones. These did not seem to pose a
major threat, but there was a strong chance the birds would join together,
reassembling into a more powerful foe. Taking out as many as they could with
the first blast was a necessary measure to allow them to focus on the zahhak.
"Rule number one of fighting a powerful foe—before you strike, assume they
have backup coming. Then set yourself a time limit. Here, let's go with five
minutes. Even if the undead from town come running in, if we've pulled out by
then, we'll get away clean."
As they waited for the flock to reach casting range, Lesedi continued her
lecture. Aware of the enemy's detection range, she'd positioned them a fair
distance from the town, giving them a comfortable margin before backup could
come running in. If they failed to fell this foe within those five minutes, they'd
turn tail and run. This plan prioritized survival over victory.
Conscious of that, Oliver's team dug into the sand, athames at the ready.
"Rule number two. Always strike first. Magnus Fragor!"
"""Magnus Fragor!"""
Four burst spells shot skyward. The zahhak spotted them, but it was too late
to dodge. The explosion covered a wide area, taking most of the birds with it
and shattering the wings of the large skelebird. It and the zahhak began to fall.
"Okay, activate the circle, then spread out and continue the aerial
bombardment!"
Lesedi was already running toward the landing site. Oliver, Nanao, and Yuri
aimed their athames in three separate directions, chanting—and activating the
magic circle they'd inscribed ahead of time. This placed a dome-like barrier over
Lesedi and the area; not that powerful, but combined with their suppressing
fire, it would be enough to stave off the bone flock for now. The key here was
to keep them from getting in Lesedi's way.
Shooting down the descending skelebirds, they kept one eye on her battle.
After all, that was the real meat of Lesedi Ingwe's combat demonstration.
"Impetus! Shiiiiiaaahhhh!"
Lesedi's first strike was a gust spell. And although it did double duty as a feint,
the spell wasn't aimed at the enemy. It created a current in the air she was
running through, and she rode upon that, giving herself a boost of speed and a
shift in direction her opponent couldn't anticipate. Her roundhouse kick hit the
zahhak before it could recover from its landing. It tried to throw out a black
barrier and block, but Lesedi's kick smashed through that and scored a direct hit
on the zahhak's shoulder. It went flying, and she gave chase.
"Rule three! Don't let them recover! Once you've got the advantage, keep it!"
True to her word, before the zahhak could right itself, she was pummeling it
with further kicks. At a glance, it might seem like a wild flurry, but she was
smoothly weaving in a number of leg sweeps that kept it permanently offbalance. And each time it left itself exposed, her athame stabbed a weak point
—and had just gouged a shallow groove out of its throat.
"Don't trade spells or slashes! Make that shit a one-sided beatdown! Prep
three ways to finish it from your opening move!"
"…!"
Oliver gulped. This was a horrifically practical lesson. Completely ignoring the
accepted practices of sword arts but rock-solid on the elements that decided a
battle's outcome. A comprehensive grasp of fighting theory, readily broken
away from as her own techniques and the situation at hand required.
"Such polish," Nanao muttered.
A curious choice of words, but Oliver got why she chose them. Lesedi had
found her own style beyond what the book said and had refined it to
perfection. It was painfully obvious why Rossi had sought her teachings.
"Shiii!" Lesedi roared.
The zahhak ducked under a flying spin kick to the head. But that big swing had
been intentional and was followed by a backhanded slice, cutting off the
zahhak's left arm at the root. This made Oliver grimace. Hiding the cut itself in
the motion of the kick made this extremely hard to dodge. But holding a wand
the wrong way around was, conventionally, a sign of surrender. A number of
styles taught it as a dirty trick designed for a surprise kill, but Lesedi likely never
even registered that aspect of it, only the functionality.
Perhaps a single arm counted as result enough—Lesedi broke off her onesided rush. Switching her athame around to the proper grip, she took a step
back, calling to her juniors behind.
"You see that? This is how you set the pace. The birds you dropped and the
arm I severed—we're now starting at a clear advantage."
All three nodded. The results spoke for themselves. Her words came not from
what she'd read in books but from what she'd learned by skirting certain death
more times than she could count.
"Watching your league match, I got the strong impression all three of you
tend to enjoy the fight a bit too much. But the nexus of a real fight is to never
let your foe make a move. In that sense, I rate the other three teams higher."
"Mm, a tried-and-true principle of troop deployment," Nanao agreed.
Staring down the zahhak, Lesedi spared a quick glance at the sky. The spell
barrage had been effective, and the bone birds were merely wheeling, showing
no signs of descent. It seemed unlikely they feared getting shot down, so
perhaps they'd simply learned they couldn't break the barrier and were waiting
for an opening. They remained sinister, but at the very least, the group should
be able to keep them away from the zahhak for the time being. In light of
which, Lesedi moved to the next phase.
"Okay, let's trade places. I've weakened it a bit, so it should be solid practice
for you. Take your time and get the hang of how it fights. If you're in trouble, I'll
barge in—"
"Well, aren't you a proper teacher, Hard Knocker."
As the third-years stepped into the barrier and Lesedi out, an unexpected
voice called to her. Oliver jumped, narrowing his eyes. The zahhak had no face,
let alone a mouth. But that deep, masculine growl had come from the vortex
swirling where the face should be.
"…Rivermoore," Lesedi replied, her brow furrowing. "Not how I expected to
hear from you."
"Mwa-ha-ha-ha. It was just so heartwarming. You used to be as rabid as
Bloody Karlie, but now you've actually learned how to mentor."
"You just here to ooze spite? Then I don't care. Cut the connection."
Lesedi waved a hand dismissively. The warlock in the vortex chuckled.
"No, that's just a side benefit. I'm about to disrupt your lesson and felt I
should drop a warning. Deformatio."
On the spell's cue, the zahhak's body began to creak, transforming. The bones
within rearranged themselves—even sprouting a new arm.
Lesedi gritted her teeth. "What the hell? You've even meddled with a
zahhak?!"
"Doing my part to represent the upper forms. Can't show off to my juniors
just using what was lying around."
The transformation complete, the zahhak's physical and magical abilities now
projected an entirely different threat. The warlock's speech continued.
"This, too, is a product of ancient necromancy. Or you could call it a failed
attempt at a life-prolongment spell—if you're curious, read my upcoming
dissertation on the subject. If you can make it back to campus alive."
With that, Rivermoore's voice cut out. Lesedi had her eyes locked on the
zahhak, ready for anything.
"…Change of plans. The three of you are on backup. Unknown enemies pose a
serious threat. Always exercise the utmost caution."
"Verily."
"Shame. This looks fun!"
Nanao and Yuri both nodded, faced with the new zahhak. Blue light started
pouring from its back—a sphere, armful size, floating above it.
"…A floating ball of light…"
It was a bit like the false moon Cornwallis had used their first year. Oliver
observed this carefully, but it seemed to offer no attack options on its own.
Before his watchful eyes, the glowing orb moved soundlessly to a position
behind the zahhak…
"Below us!"
The light had extended the zahhak's shadow toward their feet. The group
leaped back when Lesedi barked a warning—and the next moment, spear-like
blades shot out of the shadow itself.
The threat identified, Lesedi yelled, "Shadow Crawl! Watch out for attacks
from its shadow!"
"Will shining some light help? Lumina!"
Yuri acted on instinct. White light bathed the ground and canceled out the
oncoming shadow.
"Simple but effective. Surround it in all directions—"
But before Lesedi could finish, the sphere behind the zahhak split, rising
upward and rejoining up above—projecting shadows from the bone birds
wheeling below it.
"Not that easy, huh? Well-planned, Rivermoore."
Shadows were flitting in every direction, and Lesedi clicked her tongue. But
she'd already made her choice. Pushing back the shadows with the light of her
spell, she yelled, "Rule four! If the risk outweighs your odds of winning, bail! If
you get back alive, you'll have another shot."
"Got it! Securing escape route! Lumina!"
Oliver was already moving, aiming his athame over his shoulder and dashing
through the shadowless zone with Yuri and Nanao hot on his heels. Lesedi
brought up the rear, keeping the zahhak back with her spells. Once they'd
gained enough distance, all four leaped aboard their brooms. As they flew off,
she glanced over her shoulder at the zahhak swiftly retreating to the rear.
"That counterattack was worse than we'd estimated. Could mean the other
squads—?"
"Yo, yo, what the hell?!"
Tim paused in the middle of pulling out his next poison vial. Before their eyes,
the still-standing bone knights were grouping around the central general—and
combining. Leaving the powerful legs of the skeletal horses as is, countless
other bones reassembled into a seat, on which rested the upper body of the
general, the rest of his bones built in. The long bone blades on the sides were
designed to cut down foes diving to the sides as it charged in. They'd gone from
cavalry to nightmarish chariot.
"I take my eyes off you for five seconds, and you get all weird! This makes no
sense… Undead are absolute crap at learning new tricks!"
"GYUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The general roared, and the chariot rocketed forward. Marco stepped out in
front of Katie, Guy, and Pete, but even in armor, a troll couldn't soak this charge
without injury. The griffin Lyla swooped in, but the general fended her off with
its halberd. This was too much for the third-years to handle, so Tim shot out
ahead, trying to draw the foe's ire.
"Magnus Clypeus!"
A spell from one side hit the ground in front of them, generating a rock
mountain that stopped the chariot's charge. Surprised, Tim spun around—and
found a seventh-year, athame in hand.
"…A regulated vengeful horde? Rivermoore's been plumbing the depths of
necromancy, I see."
Gwyn Sherwood's voice was soft and calm. Four more students emerged
before him, making a beeline toward Katie's group.
"Is everyone okay?"
"Chela?!"
Katie's face lit up. Chela, Stacy, and Fay were moving with Shannon
Sherwood. Shannon was hardly a fighter, so this squad had both her and Gwyn
as supervisors.
"Huh?" Tim said, baffled by the reinforcements. "Why are you over here? The
rendezvous isn't till later."
"Seemed wise to do so sooner. Too many unfamiliar noises here."
Gwyn answered succinctly, casting further spells to keep the chariot pinned
down. Meanwhile, Shannon took a position in front of the younger crowd.
"…Stay…behind me. Don't worry… I'll protect you."
"No, thank you."
Stacy and Fay stepped right around her. Athame at the ready, Stacy glared at
their foe.
"I appreciate the supervision, but we're not asking for protection. We have
the numbers now. And I'm done listening to this racket. Let's silence it for
good."
Her manservant smiled at that.
"Fay," she said. "Run circles around it. Chela and I will hit it hard."
"Got it."
Stacy raised her athame high and chanted a spell.
"Lunatum."
A pale light appeared above her, shaped like a crescent moon. As the spell
took effect, Fay's body began to change. The bones in his lower half creaked,
sharp claws pierced his boots, his hair stood on end, and fangs appeared
beneath bared lips—but there, the transformation stopped. By design.
"…Hrfffffff…"
Partially transformed, Fay took several deep breaths.
"Phased transformation on a werewolf," Tim said, impressed. "I was shocked
by that in the match, but seen up close, I seriously can't believe it. And you can
still cast spells? Pretty sure there's no precedent for that."
"…Aren't you in pain, Mr. Willock?" Chela asked.
Fay grinned, his features significantly wilder than usual.
"I absolutely am. But my pride outdoes that. That's what loyal guard dogs are
like, Ms. McFarlane."
He made his feelings clear in a way that brooked no argument. Chela nodded
and joined them.
Gwyn snorted. "No point in trying to stop you. Fine—let's take this thing
down. But don't get too far ahead. Shannon'll cry if any of you up and die on
us."
He phrased it to sound like a joke, but his expression made it clear it wasn't
one. Chela, Stacy, and Fay glanced her way and saw that Gwyn spoke the truth
—Shannon indeed looked ready to cry already.
"Don't…be rash…," she said.
"Oh… Argh, fine! Point taken!" Stacy gave up, promising, "We'll play it safe!"
As she did, Fay kicked the ground, his legs far stronger in this form. He now
had the mobility to kite the chariot around, and that got Katie, Guy, and Pete
motivated again.
"Can't let them hog all the glory, can we?" said Guy. "What do we do about
this big fella?"
"Whatever we can, but don't put too much burden on Marco and Lyla.
They're already hurt enough."
"Unh? I fine, Katie."
"KYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Marco offered reassurance and Lyla a powerful howl. Tim grinned and
grabbed an extra-large poison vial.
"Guess we're all in! Let's get our murder on!"
After abandoning the battle against the modified zahhak, Lesedi's group spent
a solid ten minutes flying around.
Worried this was a bit too bold a move, Oliver asked, "Is this okay? We've
been flying awhile."
"Yeah, he already knows we're here," Lesedi said. "Rather than try and hide
ourselves down below, we might as well get the lay of the land. Seems like a
lot's changed since I was last here."
Given the scale of the place, exploring on foot would take absolutely ages—
her reasoning was sound. Oliver was more concerned about their foe's
preparations. He found it hard to believe the warlock had no antiair plans.
As Oliver scanned the air around them, Nanao's focus lay elsewhere—on the
broom between her legs.
"…Amatsukaze's gait is a shadow of itself," she said. "The air here isn't right."
"Exactly." Lesedi nodded. Then she added, "Lots of magic particles around,
but they tend to stagnate. Good for the undead, bad for us and brooms. Watch
the drain on your mana and energy."
Her instructions were simple and apt, her answers clear and swift, and above
all, she insisted on retreat and survival—there was no doubt she made an
excellent supervisor. That was why all three could trust her to steer their
course.
"But even with that in mind, the maneuverability brooms provide is effective
here. The undead don't have brooms. Only a handful of Rivermoore's bone
beasts can match this flight speed. Long as we watch out for them…"
Even as she expounded on the basis of this flight, she trailed off. The others
soon figured out why. There were three things up ahead, flying at their altitude.
"Speaking of… We got undead wyverns incoming. Time for a magic flight
combat lesson!"
With that pronouncement, Lesedi shot forward, the others close behind. It
was their first time going up against wyverns in the air, but they knew the
basics. First, don't get hit by their breath—that might kill you outright. Second,
don't let that worry you so much that you slow your flight speed. Even without
clubs, even against the undead, the key principle of aerial combat remained
unchanged. Maneuver yourself above your foe, and victory was yours. And it
helped that they outnumbered the enemy.
Neither side seemed inclined to give way, so it started as a bullfight. A vital
moment that would set the standings. The wyverns tried knocking them down
with claws or their breath while the mages made minimal adjustments to avoid
that and fired counterspells, aiming not at the rock-solid bodies but at the more
pierceable wings. Lesedi knew that theory well, leading them right at the head
wyvern—
"Hng?!"
She'd dodged its jaws easily, but a blade swung at her from the wyvern's
back. She got her athame up to shield herself, but the pushback was enough to
make her flight line wobble. As the other wyverns shot past, Oliver gulped.
"Ms. Ingwe!" he yelled.
"You okay there?" Yuri asked.
"…Rrrgh. I'm fine! Keep your eyes on 'em!"
Lesedi soon got her broom under control, but there was no time for relief.
They'd spotted the source of that surprise attack—a six-armed, three-faced
bone warrior, mounted on the lead wyvern's back, wielding a giant glaive.
"""SYURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"""
With a guttural roar, the wyverns came out of their plunge, banking upward.
Shooting them a sidelong glance, Lesedi growled, "An undead dragoon? Damn
it, Rivermoore, how many more headaches you got up your sleeve?"
"My moment arrives!" Nanao cried, spying her task and upping her broom's
speed.
"Wait, Hibiya!" Lesedi cried. "Playing to our foe's strengths won't—"
"Let her do it, Ms. Ingwe," Oliver said. "The sky belongs to her."
Catching his point, Lesedi glanced at the ground. Flat land, few elevation
shifts—if they took the fight below, there was little chance of using the terrain
to their advantage.
"A pain either way… Fine, Hibiya, that dragoon is all yours! Horn, maintain
speed and watch Hibiya like a hawk! Leik, you and I are on the other bone
dragons! Take them down fast so they can't disrupt Hibiya's duel!"
"On it!"
"Hell yeah!"
The plan set, all four sped off. Gaining altitude and going into a turn, Lesedi
and Yuri fired spells at the unencumbered wyverns, drawing their attention. The
creatures gave chase, leaving Nanao free to take on the dragoon one-on-one.
But before their second clash, black smoke began leaking from the wyvern's
jawbones.
"Hrm!"
Spotting the warm-up to a breath attack, Nanao pulled hard to the lower left.
The wyvern's jaws opened, and it belched a pitch-black smog, polluting the air.
To the rear, Oliver gulped. Being undead, the breath's element did not match
that of a living wyvern, but bathing in it would prove equally deadly. Nanao
enhanced her katana with the oppositional element, negating what smog she
couldn't dodge—
"""SYURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"""
—and in that moment, the dragoon swung its massive glaive through the
mask of smog. Nanao leaned out of the way and was through the clash. Feeling
the sting of the smog on her skin, she snorted.
"That breath is a nuisance. How might I turn the tables here?"
It wouldn't be easy. Turning to avoid the breath was too large a disruption to
her flight path and inevitably slowed her momentum. She could stifle it with the
oppositional element, but plunging directly into the breath would leave her
exposed to the dragoon's glaive in poor visibility. Defending against two attacks
with one katana was no trifling matter, and she was still considering her options
as each completed their turn, heading into the next clash.
"Phew!"
On the approach, another billowing breath. Stifling that, Nanao turned
downward, going under the wyvern, assuming that given where the dragoon
was mounted, no swing of its glaive could reach her. Yet—
"""SYURAAA!"""
—as the veil of smog parted, she found herself face-to-face with the dragoon,
mounted upside down, its glaive coming straight at her. A snap of her katana
deflected the strike, but the jolt had a significant impact on her speed. Her
opponent had done a 180-degree roll to match her position, and as she evened
out her path, Nanao couldn't help but be impressed.
"You predicted my move? This will not be so simple!"
"Don't rush the outcome!" Lesedi roared. "That's a bad habit, Hibiya!
Remember, you've got backup with you!"
That made Nanao reconsider her strategy.
"Point taken. That was exceedingly rash," she murmured.
A swift dispatch, freeing her up to assist others—years fighting outnumbered
in a doomed war back home had left that attitude ingrained. But that was not
needed here. She had reliable comrades, and their help would lead her to
victory.
"In which case, I shall end it in three."
She cast off the unconscious shackles, focusing on gaining speed for the next
exchange.
"…Yes, Nanao. That's it," Oliver muttered, watching from above, seeing her
fight the way she ought to. "Don't make this about reading each other's next
move and snatching victory from those slim margins. You never once needed
that. This is your sky, and you're faster than anyone."
What she did next was much as he'd imagined it. After the second clash, she
opened up the throttle and turned part of her speed advantage into altitude.
And with that behind her, Nanao slashed at the dragoon from above—the exact
opposite of her last approach, and for a very simple reason. At this height, the
wyvern couldn't aim its breath higher; if it rolled to do so, the glaive wouldn't
reach.
"SYURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
The speed advantage was too great for it to handle a head-on rush. Sensing
that, the dragoon dropped the glaive and pulled new weapons from its hips,
one in each of its six limbs. The blades were dramatically curved—these were
harpes, hardly designed for jousting. The dragoon's goal here was to pull Nanao
into a mutually assured destruction. But—
"Impetus!"
—even with blades brandished before her, Nanao wreathed the wind around
her own blade, sweeping them all aside. Her slice went through the dragoon's
spine to the wyvern's, sending both rider and mount plunging to the ground
below.
"Nice! Let's finish off the others!" Lesedi yelled.
Nanao had taken out the real threat, and now they could double up on each
of the remaining wyverns. This proved little challenge, and no sooner were they
downed than Lesedi put her broom into a dive toward the ground below.
"Mm? Descending now?" Yuri asked.
"The dragoon's got me curious. Like that shadow manipulator, it goes against
standard necromancy. Might learn something from the remains."
Back on solid ground at last, they found the downed dragoon on its crumpled
mount, a silent heap of bones. But Lesedi approached with caution, athame at
the ready. Nanao had cut the rider free of the wyvern, but part of that sixarmed, three-faced soldier was still moving, harpe in hand, despite the
incomplete skeleton. Lesedi swiftly kicked it apart and made observations on
the remains.
"…Yeah, it wasn't just riding. The dragoon's bones were fused with the
wyvern's at the back. Reminds me of Ophelia's chimeras."
The younger students mulled that over. The rider hadn't been mounted—
more like it had sprouted, growing directly from the wyvern's spine. No such
creature could exist in the natural order of things.
"…Uh…"
Lesedi had been taking the wyvern half apart, but once she got to where the
heart would be, she found a bizarre bony lump. She split it open with her
athame and revealed a shard of bone within, the size of a pinkie. Hefting it with
her wand, she had the rest of the group take a closer look.
"…Not a wyvern bone or a zahhak's," she said. "Clearly human and relatively
new. Gotta assume it's the core of some spell."
"A human bone? Then—"
"Sadly, not the piece Godfrey's missing. The mana signature feels familiar. I
suspect this is Rivermoore's own bone. But how this functioned, I can't say."
After a few more observations, she wrapped the bone in insulation paper and
pocketed it. None of them was well versed in necromancy so they couldn't
exactly do a deeper analysis on the spot.
Putting it out of her mind, Lesedi told the group, "Either way, too many fights
in rapid succession. Fatigue affects your battle performance, so rest is key.
Other squads will have secured bases; let's head to one of those."
Regaining stealth, they proceeded on foot a good two hours before reaching
the frontline base. Through the well-camouflaged entrance, a path led down,
and inside they found the bulk of a familiar troll.
"Marco! Keeping guard, are you?"
"Katie must've summoned him. You're not hurt, are you, Marco?"
"Mm. Nanao, Oliver. Glad you safe."
The two gave Marco a hug as they spoke. Hearing footsteps rushing over,
Oliver turned—just as Shannon clung to him.
"Noll!"
"S-Sis… Really, don't do this in front of people."
"Hmm…so it's okay in private," came a voice as frosty as Shannon's was
warm.
Making no move to fend off his cousin, Oliver looked around—and found a
curly-haired girl, arms crossed, glaring at him.
"Katie…"
"Nanao, Mr. Leik, Ms. Ingwe, welcome. There's tea brewing, but none for
Oliver. He already has his hands full."
With that, she pursed her lips, pointedly turned away, and stormed off. Oliver
went limp in his cousin's arms, and three other friends took Katie's place.
"Don't worry—she's putting your cup on, too," Guy assured him.
"Guy, Chela, Pete…"
"Her compulsion to compete with Ms. Sherwood baffles us all. When she's
done so much for Katie…"
Chela shook her head, and Pete shrugged, snorting. Oliver was now vainly
struggling to peel himself away—and Lesedi grabbed his shoulder.
"Horn, one extra rule just for you. Don't bring your love life onto the
battleground. Hear me? You're digging up a bunch of memories I'd rather leave
buried, and it's making me wanna puke."
"I-I'll bear it in mind…"
She clearly had history with this, and her glare was so intense, he could only
nod. At that point, Shannon finally released him, and they were led into the
break room. Plain chairs and tables—and at the back, the Toxic Gasser was
sipping his tea.
"'Sup, Team Horn plus one. Looks like nobody died?"
"Who you calling 'plus one'? I ain't letting anyone die on my watch. You didn't
accidentally poison any of yours, right?"
"I did not. It's such a pain in the ass! Their toxin resistances are total garbage.
Most Watch members can inhale a fume or two, but these kids? Nooope."
"Nobody wanted it that way anyhow."
Their standard-issue banter. Lesedi took a seat, and her team settled in, too.
Oliver glanced around the room and saw Stacy to one side, avidly performing a
physical exam on a shirtless Fay. He waved a hand at them, and they responded
in kind.
Soon enough, Katie had tea for everyone, and Guy plonked a plate of cakes in
the middle of the table. Oliver was relieved to find there was a cup for him.
Once everyone had refreshed themselves, Lesedi put down her cup.
"Okay, let's trade intel. We've brought back a broad grasp of the land and
combat with a zahhak and an undead dragoon, both results of mystery
meddling. The latter we took down, recovering what seems to be one of
Rivermoore's own bones from the remains—"
"Then you chickened out and ran from the other?" Tim cut in.
"I will kill you."
"I'm kidding. We got kids with us; can't take the risk. We were much the
same. Two squads together took out a big-ass ghoul and secured a similar bone
fragment. I thought it was the same thing I'd fought in the past at first, but it
transformed into something else halfway. Aalto's familiars and Mr. Willock
really pulled their weight in that fight."
"Oh-ho!"
"They did?"
Nanao and Oliver looked to Katie, but she refused to meet their eyes—
possibly stewing over what she'd said earlier. They moved on to the other
person mentioned, but Stacy was yanking his wrist, pulling him back down.
"Don't move, Fay! I'm not done with the exam!"
"You've examined everything twice, Stace. Let me get dressed."
Oliver grinned at the display, but Lesedi was already back to business. She and
Tim unwrapped the insulating paper, placing the two bone fragments on the
table and scowling down at them.
"These are definitely bugging me. Rivermoore stealing bones was just his
thing, but I never heard of anyone finding pieces of him in his familiars before,"
said Lesedi. "Might be a clue to figuring out his motives and hiding spot."
"I thought the same, but no one here's much use at reverse engineering
necromancy spell components. Was there anyone on the other teams?" Tim
asked.
Lesedi frowned, thinking—and Shannon quietly rose to her feet.
"May…I see those?"
"Mm? Think you can get anything from 'em, Shannon?"
Lesedi slid the bones down the table. Shannon came closer, touched her
finger to them, and closed her eyes.
"…Mm… Got it…"
Most people present did not know what this meant. But Oliver did. If anyone
could glean a clue directly from the bones themselves, it was Shannon.
"…I'll share. Wands together…if you wish to know…"
Her eyes half-lidded, she held out her white wand, and though uncertain, the
others placed theirs on it. Oliver among them.
"...!"
In that moment, all five of his senses were overwhelmed by a powerful vision.
Clear fall skies. A quiet coast, the beach running as far as the eye could see.
That alone would make for a pleasant walk. But each step taken made his feet
sink deeper into the sand. Ever vigilant against loss of balance, he pressed on,
walking like a laden mountaineer.
"Yeah, this is the life! A nice stroll along the shore. The pleasant lapping of the
waves, the breeze on your face, the seashells sparkling in the sun!"
"…Agreed, but not when I'm carrying a stupid-heavy coffin on my back."
The girl's voice bright and cheery, the boy's gasped between heavy breaths.
The coffin he carried was taller than him, this ordeal all the fault of his burden.
"Now, now, Cyrus, keep those eyes up! Back straight! If you stare at your feet,
I can't see anything! The blue of the ocean requires the blue of the skies above;
I don't make the rules."
His burden shared his sight and complained accordingly. This seemed unfair,
and the boy scowled.
"All this and I gotta straighten up…? Are you sure you haven't already turned
evil?"
"Ah-ha-ha-ha! I actually have! I'm an evil ghost haunting you, Cyrus! You're on
to my game, but too late—your back is already my permanent seat!"
Her voice cried out in triumph, and the boy continued carrying her on along
the shore. It was far too late to complain. This burden was his to bear.
"Hark at this, then. It'll be your coffin, Cyrus."
That was the day. Light streaming in the windows lit upon the sides of a
coffin, before which stood a burly old-timer and a boy who barely batted an eye
at the dire proclamation.
"…I know it well, Great-Grandfather. You've always had it with you."
"Gah-ha-ha-ha! That I did. But the spiel needs to be said. Each coffin must
always have a bearer; that is our way. I entrust this one to you, my greatgrandson. I carried it a long time, but age has caught up with me. My back's not
what it once was."
The old-timer slapped his back. The boy found it hard to believe the old ox
could be that feeble, but he dared not say so. His great-grandfather patted the
coffin's side.
"Your duty, first and foremost, is to keep it safe. And more than anything—to
release what lies within. I never managed the second, much to my chagrin."
He spoke with great regret. Surprised at the depth of it, the boy nodded
gravely.
"I'm familiar with the Rivermoore calling. But if this one is to be mine, then
what are those?"
He looked beyond his inheritance to the back wall, where more coffins stood.
The light left the old man's eyes.
"Curious? Then go on…touch them."
The boy did as he was told. Moving closer, he placed his palm on one.
"From the roots the mold around my hands cracking cracking cracking crying
shut up go away you're twisting my heart it hurts it hurts where are my legs my
legs please bring the breeze please the dust is anyone there—?"
The words came flooding up his fingers like a string of curses. He snatched his
hand away like he'd touched hot steel.
"…Ngh…!"
"You heard, then. The insides of those coffins have gone bad. We're saying
prayers to console them, but there's nothing to be gained by opening them
now. When I said, 'keep it safe,' I meant do anything you can to keep her from
ending up like them."
The boy swallowed hard. The old man beckoned him back to his coffin.
"The connection's been made. Hand on the coffin and make your
acquaintance. She's been waiting for you."
Up close, it looked no different from that other coffin. The boy wasn't looking
forward to this, but no necromancer could fear the dead. His mind made up, he
reached out—
"Finallyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"
—and the voice he heard betrayed his every expectation.
"You are so, so, so, so slow! I've been waiting foreeeeeever! I was starting to
wonder if your whole clan had up and died on me! You don't wanna scare the
dead, buster. Or you might just kick-start the countdown to crazy ghost town!"
She didn't even take a breath. This was nothing like the curses and wailings so
common to the undead—she was just a chatterbox. That was his first
impression and one she never shook him of.
"Either way, you're the one hauling—I mean, protecting me this go-around? I
know all about you, Cyrus. I saw everything through Douglas's eyes," the voice
said. "I'm Fau. I used to have a lot more titles and things, but they don't matter
anymore, so best we just keep it simple. I'm so glad I finally get to talk to you!
Not that you've said anything yet!"
With that, she added, "Okay, we've got a lot to go over, but lemme say the
most important thing up front. I love taking walks! So you're gonna love it, too!
Better start training those leg muscles now!"
Her declaration rang out loud and clear. And thus, the boy forged a bond with
the coffin he would shoulder through the years.
"Was that…?"
The memory complete, all eyes blinked open, and Lesedi gave her neighbor a
shocked look.
"Rivermoore's memories? How—? You read them from the bone, Shannon?"
Shannon nodded faintly, and her brother, Gwyn, stepped in to explain.
"The logic's simple. Just as Godfrey lost a chunk of his ether along with the
bone, Rivermoore's bone has a piece of his ether attached. And the ether is a
cluster of information. Shannon can read that—basically a higher form of
séances or possession."
"…Damn," Tim said. "It's one thing with a ghost who has the whole etheric
body, but getting all that from a tiny scrap with no mind to speak of? What kind
of etheric abilities are we dealing with here…?"
He was glancing back and forth between Shannon and the bone, but Lesedi
was already folding her arms.
"Well, it's a windfall either way. That memory's likely connected to the heart
of his sorcery. Not something he'd readily tell an outsider, anyway. And the old
man he was speaking to—pretty sure that was Douglas Rivermoore. Not all that
long ago, he failed his two-century passage and perished."
She muttered to herself a moment, then put the thought aside.
"Biggest mystery here is the coffin Rivermoore's great-grandfather entrusted
to him. Whatever that thing is, it's clearly the root of all his actions."
"Was that an undead?" Yuri asked. "She seemed super bubbly."
"It's not unheard of," Tim said. "Rare to have them be that clear and
conscious, but he was also told to make sure she didn't lose herself. The
question is: Whose ghost is she?"
Lesedi snorted. "We don't know enough to say, but if we learn more, we
might start to see the shape of things. We can glean information from his
bones, and the strongest undead out there have those fragments. Which
means…"
"If we keep hunting the toughest undead, what we learn will bring us closer to
him. That makes our purpose clear," Chela summed up.
"There's still a possibility of false info clouding the picture." Lesedi rubbed her
chin. "But given how unorthodox Shannon's approach is, gotta say it ain't likely.
And getting to him through the stronger undead was always the plan. So that
settles it," Lesedi said. "Focus on taking out the toughest he's got, and make
sure you bring back the bones inside 'em. Send out your familiars and let the
other squads know!"
The mages sprang into action, certain these steps would bring them closer to
their quarry.