24 (II)
Surprise
The owl paused again. “Well. He is fearless. Or very stupid.” She craned her head and hummed. “Adept. At most. But there’s something more than that—a secret skill? A Bloodline Skill perhaps? Or a great Blessing? From the Composer, perhaps. No, no, no…” She stopped again as he examined his armor. “Oh, this is precious. Valor, did you put him up to this?”
“Up to what?”
“He’s wearing vestiges of death. He’s clad in armor that resembles bone. Does he not know of the significance of such a look? Does he not know the meaning he invokes?”
Shiv recalled something of that. Valor explained to him the nature of becoming a lich, how they infused a part of their soul into a body with a skeletal aesthetic. Despite what Shiv always thought, it was not an act of undeath and Necromancy, but actually a declaration against death.
The Great Enemy, Valor had called it.
“No,” Valor said, though he sounded proud. “I did not tell him to do this. Shiv. Would you like to inform her why you look the way you do right now?”
“Because bones are easy to sculpt, the exoskeleton’s easy to use, and I bloody well like the felling look.”
The owl barked a pitched laugh. “You jest. You must jest. That’s why? Because you like the look.”
Shiv reassembled his thin bone drill and let it hover beside him. The Weaveress next to Harkness took a step toward him. The other agents of Albion readied their weapons. “Stop,” she said, like a mother chiding her children. “Let the boy have his fun. System. What a pure and intoxicating innocence you have. Valor… Truly… Really?”
“Truly,” Valor said. “And the vestiges of death fit him. More than you could possibly know.”
“Well. Who am I to doubt the words of a Legendary Pathbearer such as yourself.” She looked Shiv up and down one more time and let out a thoughtful breath. “Ah. I have a guess as to who you are now. You are the other surfacer. The one that killed the rogue operative.”
“Rogue?” Shiv asked.
“Oh, yes. Do you think a raven works for coin? No. The fool ran from us. He kept what he learned and the face we gave him, and decided he wanted to be rich more than he wanted to serve true power. And so he finished a few contracts. And then some Republic nobles took notice—and one of them saw the opportunity to do something very interesting while removing a rival from the board.”
“What?” Adam said, blinking rapidly. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, poor little hawk. The one that took you wasn’t one of mine. He didn’t belong to anyone in the end. Just the idea of money. But who the raven worked for wasn’t of the Abyss, but of your own nation. It all goes back to your father. Poor fool. He did the right thing all those years ago. And he remains punished till this day.”
The Young Lord’s expression became a maelstrom of disbelief and building agitation. Shiv looked around and began noting all threats he could see. Damn. Adam was pretty accurate. Fifty-six. He only missed the automata. Might be something about the machines…
“Still. It was a very impressive showing of… Toughness.” The owl sighed. “I cannot say much for your other skills. You have the Path of someone that takes and endures pain. Were you a slave? Is that why you are so close to these Umbrals?”
Shiv shook his head. “No. It’s mainly the fact that some assholes planned to bomb the first city I got to visit. It kind of spoils the sightseeing mood.”
“Oh, and there’s that smart tongue. Grandmother always did say you liked the ones with wit.” Harkness sighed again. “But I question how much wit you truly have. You walk in here with a terrible disguise, Young Lord in tow, and deliver the Cage of Valor Thann… to me. Why, it is ironic that your earlier disguise was not true, for you certainly served me better than whatever poor fool of mine you took the mask from.”
“You might think that. I have a different perspective.” Shiv folded his arms, taking a step closer to the owl. She remained in place, but the Weaveress loomed over him. Shiv wondered if the Trapdoor Weaveress was compromised or mentally dominated. Judging from how unnaturally she moved, he guessed the latter.
“Well. Tell me about this perspective of yours.”
“First, we planned to come in and get close enough to see your operation. We assumed that between me pretending to be a crow, Adam being Adam, and me having Valor Thann, you would let us in deeper.”
“So, you have seen my operation.” Harkness gestured toward the mana bomb. “You see that the moment is close at hand—and that all it will take to collapse Passage’s teleportation network is just simply activating the bomb. Something that can be done with the press of a spell.”
“It also looks awfully vulnerable,” Shiv said. “Lots of complex machinery and intermingling spells. Tell me, will it still work if the threads binding it to the webs around us break?”
“Unlikely,” Harkness said, rubbing her fingers. “But I doubt you or the Young Lord are fast enough. Well. Perhaps he is a close match for a few of my ravens. But close will not do. Not while I’m here. Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Shiv continued. “I also wanted to see the layout of your troops. Looks like a lot of ranged fighters upstairs. All your mages and archers up there—it will be a real shame if an actual warrior managed to make it up and slaughter them.
“It would, but I would ask how a warrior might make it up.”
Shiv ignored her question and looked at the forces she had on the ground level. “And as for your forces here—well, the crows are nothing too impressive. So far, it feels like they’re just here to eat up my time by dying. The ravens? They’re actually dangerous—but you only have five of those guys left. The only surprise I see here is the Weaveress—is she mind controlled?”
“There’s hardly any mind left in the creature, after I—” Harkness paused. “What is this? What are you doing? Why are you narrating—”
“Adam,” Shiv said. “Show her the final step of our plan.”
All eyes shifted to the Young Lord as he… fell backward and huddled up into a ball. Harkness stared at him. “What… Is something supposed to happen?”
“Yes,” Shiv said, grinning at the owl. Even he was surprised how close she'd let him get. “It already has. You let Valor distract you with conversation, and what’s worse—you let me get too close.” He ripped off his crow’s cloak. The flesh along his torso promptly tore open, and packed inside his increasingly tumor-consumed body was every last mana bomb and natural explosive his comrades had.
Valor laughed, and a huge blast swept out from Shiv’s body as he launched the bombs he hid inside his own body right at the owl’s face.
***
Shiv grunted as he crammed the last bomb into his stomach and willed his wounds to close. A dense patch of cancers fused over the large incision he made on himself. “That’ll… do for now,” Shiv said, blinking away his lightheadedness. When no one responded, he looked back at the group, and found most of them looking at him with an expression of silent respect mixed with open horror. “It’s not that bad. I’ll be able to last. Trust me.”
“As I felling said earlier, you're bloody demented,” the Young Lord said, shaking his head. The ugliness of Shiv’s wound made him nauseous. “More than demented, you’re insane. I’m glad you’re playing the crow now.”
“Shiv? How is it? Can you hide the pain?”
The Deathless shrugged. “Well, it feels like I’m bleeding internally, dying of cancer, and have ruptured my stomach to hide a few more bombs inside. But compared to getting cooked to death in a teleportation anchor? Maybe four out of ten.”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on NovelBin. Report any occurrences.
“Four out of… ten?” a Weaveress muttered in disbelief. “By the Composer… Even if it is true that you can return from death, I will… I must see your nobility reported to the Exalted Mother. Such sacrifice…”
“Yeah, just hand me the helmet and cloak,” Shiv wheezed.
“That does not sound like the noise someone makes when the pain is four out of ten,” Adam murmured.
“It’s fine,” Shiv lied. “Just a natural physiological response. I’ll last.”
He put on his disguise and prepared for the final bit of his preparation. Uva slipped by the other members of the group. Why she needed to personally administer these spells and not use her field, Shiv didn’t get at first. Then he saw her face. The pattern she formed within Adam’s mind was quick and easy. The Young Lord blinked at her and asked if there was more, but found himself ignored.
Instead, she took a long look at Shiv, and grimaced. “We’re taking too much from you. Every time…”
Shiv chuckled—which proved to be a mistake, as he barely stopped it from becoming a wet cough. “I—I’m getting skills out of this. If anything, I think you’d be in your right to bill me the bombs I’m about to use.”
He stopped talking as she pressed her gauntlet against his head. He felt a denseness fuse around his thoughts and layer over his consciousness. “This will make it hard for any Psychomancer to seize you. No matter what their Tier, they must undo my bindings first. And that will not be easy.” She spent a few moments longer forging his protection compared to what she did for Adam.
The Young Lord made his offense known. “What is this bullshit? Do I have to cook her dinner and flirt with her constantly to get the deluxe treatment as well?”
“You are now Shrouded as well,” she said. “This is the best I can do on short notice.” Instead of removing her hand, it ran down and Shiv felt her palm against his chest—right above his wound. He placed his hand over hers.
“I’ll be fine,” Shiv said. “Well. I’ll be dead. But then I’ll be fine again.”
Uva nodded. She looked at him and took a breath. “Dinner. It best be the best food I’ve ever tasted in my life.”
Oh, shit, Shiv shivered. Something in her expression was… terrifyingly exciting.
She removed her hand and took a step back. “You’re ready now. To be… What did Legend Thann call it?”
“A veteran suicide bomber,” Shiv and Valor replied at the same time, both chuckling.
***
Force, fire, and blood blossomed out from Shiv’s chest. Diamond Shell prevented him from disintegrating outright—unlike the Weaveress standing right in front of him. Might of Mass allowed him to root himself in place against the force of the blast. Biomancy allowed him to shape the path of the explosion somewhat, directing as much as he could at the owl. And nothing but his own stubborn will kept him conscious through the whole ordeal—even though the pain got really bad.
Yep. Eight out of ten. At least.
To his surprise, the owl was blasted off her feet. Shiv guessed her Physicality must not have been that high. However, he didn’t assume she was dead for a second, and launched both his mangled body and his drill after her.
At the same time, Adam, protected from the shockwave by his armor, stopped tumbling across the ground and manifested his bows. He fired in three directions at once. The first person he shot was Yunni—coating her in a coursing shield of water. His second target was the giant mana bomb at the center of the room. He burst part of its core open with a massive arrow. His third bow took part in a massacre; he put shots into the eyes and necks of every crow in the room before moving on to the ravens.
And on the inside of the Young Lord’s neck plate was a communication brooch—one that transmitted every detail of what just transpired to the Arachnae strike force laying in wait. They came charging in with the sound of the blast, knowing exactly what to expect in terms of enemy force composition, their location, and the position of the primary objective.
The raven closest to their tunnel entrance died as ten different spells hit her all at once. The other four moved. One rushed Adam—still laying on the ground—while the other three vanished outright, disappearing into the chaos.
Bodies fell from the floor above with azure arrows covering their faces.
In seconds, the long-time stronghold of New Albion hidden within Passage fell as absolute havoc swept through the ranks of Aviary.
To the credit of New Albion’s agents, they made a fight of things—some more than others. It was also an absurd attack they experienced. They couldn’t possibly sense what Shiv was hiding under his flesh without having another Biomancer overcome his mana field or surprise him. They also couldn’t possibly have guessed that Shiv was casually suicidal—willing to detonate a cluster of explosives while using his own Adept-Tier body as something of a cannon.
Two of the ravens emerged from shadows in an attempt to inflict some losses on the swarming Umbrals. They were ripped off their feet by unseen attackers. The Trapdoor Weaveresses ripped the assassins apart brutally and slowly. The last raven toppled over unceremoniously on the second level as a mind mage tore their consciousness apart.
Though they remained whole of body, there was nothing left of their self. Nothing at all.
But though an entire cell of Aviary was slaughtered, the Quest remained active, and the Master of the lesser birds still remained. A Master that Shiv did his best to kill. His bone drill shot after Harkness, and he followed soon after. But rather than crash against the webbed walls, the owl somehow halted in midair and drew a rapier from within her white cloak in an impossibly fluid motion. The blade was like her, in a sense—pale and wrong in this black place—and rather than dodging Shiv’s weapon, she struck it dead on.
The tip of her thin rapier greeted the tip of his drill. Then, there was a flash of light that danced across her blade. A flash that extended through Shiv’s drill and his exposed heart as well. The Deathless gave a guttural gasp as he felt a length of metal slide casually through his pumping core. His drill blasted through Harkness. But she faded like a mirage, taking no wounds. As his weapon bounced off a webbed wall, he felt a perfect hole running through its entire length.
And then she stood before Shiv. As if she had always been there. She held her blade at an angle, her other hand behind her back, the stance of a proper duelist. “Well played, boy,” she said, her voice filling with genuine warmth. “It might have cost you your life, but you most assuredly have destroyed my cell.”
She glanced around as her forces were culled, taking in the scene as if she was beholding a street performance.
Shiv gripped her blade and slammed his Biomancy against her. His field crashed against what felt like a mountain. The owl didn’t even react. He adapted, growing a dense weave of tumors over her rapier, trying to hold her in place as he recalled his drill. But before he could finish his spell, three more blades pierced through his chest at different angles. Three blades held by three clones of the owl. He noted how she avoided striking his ribs or exoskeleton—aiming specifically for his exposed skin.
Shit… really need to patch up that exposure next time…
And then there was another question. He could sense all four owls with his Biomancy. Yet, there was something deeply wrong. All of them were her at the same time. Their biology was the exact same, their hearts beat at the very same pace, and they all mirrored each other in action.
“How…” Shiv gasped. Blood poured out from his mouth. He tried for his drill again—but a fifth clone materialized with a flash of her rapier. This one placed her heel on his weapon—and her Physicality proved stronger than his Biomancy by far.
“Because, dear doomed child, I am a Master,” she replied, her eyes bright with malice and amusement.
Shiv snorted. “So? Think… the raven I killed a few days ago was one too…”
Harkness laughed joyously. “Oh. A delusional High-Adept at most. Perhaps a Master in a single skill. But I am not one of those who believes that simply crossing 100 levels in a skill grants you the right to be called a Master. No. You need to be well-rounded, in your mastery—for every lack is a grave weakness.”
She twisted her blade inside Shiv, and he felt death loom close. Spitting blood on her sword, he pulled himself along her weapon to shove his bone dagger into her neck.
The owl allowed him to do it.
Shiv felt his dagger sink through her soft cloak and hit skin. It was then that his strike was torn brutally off course. Shiv’s right arm came loose from his socket. Before he could cry out, she seized him by the neck, and he felt a horrific amount of strength within her thin fingers. It felt like there was some kind of movement-redirecting-skill infused into her flesh, and a similar power was within her very hands, allowing her to channel impossible amounts of force without moving her body at all.
“How many Master-Tier skills do you even have?” Shiv croaked, more curious than scared.
The owl laughed, indifferent to the deaths of her final few soldiers. The surviving members of the Arachnae Order and Adam advanced on her as one. She let out a relaxed sigh. “It would be quicker to list which ones aren’t.” She looked down at the stone dagger Shiv had shoved under one of his bottom exo-ribs. “Sorry, Valor. This one was fearless and durable—but not too smart. I don’t think you’ll be keeping him.”
“Oh, he will surprise you yet, I think.” Valor chuckled. “Shiv. Show her a messy death.”
The owl cocked her head in surprise. Shiv laughed. And promptly levered his Biomancy to channel all the blood and viscera in his body all over her face.
The so-called Master did not expect that. She also didn’t expect Shiv to drain her vitality—and for his skeletal armor to continue attacking her immediately after. The act was so sudden, so ridiculously audacious, that even the System seemed pleased, and it saw fit to reward the Deathless for daring to go this far.
Might of Mass > 59
Parry > 23
Diamond Shell > 72
Biomancy > 35
Knife Proficiency > 29
Skill Evolution: Reflexes (Initiate) > Momentum Core (Master)
Momentum Core > 54