12 Miles Below

Loraii Icestride moved with every bit of speed she could push her ancient armor to go. The rest of the team did just the same, sprinting through the tunnels. They held the speed, often times jumping and running against walls in order to take shaper turns, trying to outrun what was stalking behind their group.

They’d barely managed to pull out the trapped knights that Feather with the greatshield had separated. Things were difficult, but they’d made progress.

Now, two of them were dead. Saraphin of House Tempest held onto the helmets, each containing the souls of those knights. There wasn’t time to salvage the full relic armors, or what was left behind of them, the helmets would do for now. They could recreate new armors from those. As for the souls, Loraii wasn’t sure.

The Winterscar Scion would figure something out. His own Father was one such soul. She had to hold out to hope. Lord Atius had taken him under his personal tutiage, and the clan lord was someone all of them trusted implicitly.

More of them were wounded, and that was far more understandable and real to her mind. Javalin Stormsweeper had most of his ribcage shattered, only the soul fractal kept him active and moving, and he wasn’t alone. The other Stormsweeper showed critical health, a punctured lung, and heavy internal bleeding where bone shards had done the true damage. His armor gave him two days to live without medical attention. If they both perished here, their House would have lost all their relics in one mission. Others had more minor issues, anywhere from a broken leg or muscle contusions, depending on how far away from each blast they’d managed to get.

Ahead of the team, the Winterscar knights led the charge forward, knightbreakers carefully held in one hand, like the rest of the knights.

All of them new knights who’d barely had any training in relic armor, rookies at best to the field. Few had actual training in an armor, the rest were simple soldiers who’d never been able to climb the ranks high enough. Until this month, none had even gone underground yet. What horrible luck. Pit against an enemy most clan knights wouldn’t see in their lifetime. A harsh first mission for those new knights.

She didn’t know what she could do to protect them. As it was, Loraii was having a hard time keeping herself alive. She knew some of the other knights here resented House Winterscar, their own Houses took years to gain even one relic armor, shared by dozens of their best warriors.

And Winterscars were suddenly wealthy enough to have seven armors among their group, each dedicated to only one warrior. The Lady Winterscar and the young master Winterscar she could understand. The other five? Rookies all and one. Worse - they were clearly compromised in some manner that deeply disturbed the rest of the veterans here. It wasn’t clear if the Winterscar loyalty remained with the clan, or with their young master.

The clan knights could forgive and overlook quite a lot of crimes, possible treason however was something that she couldn't overlook so simply. A part of her hated herself for even understanding and empathizing why the Winterscars may have put their master on a pedestal higher than the clan lord.

She shook the thoughts from her head. There was no time for politics on a mission. As much as the knights disliked the Winterscars, against a common enemy, surface clans always banded together even in the middle of a blood feud. It was tradition, and great dishonor came to any who held onto personal gripes when faced with a dangerous enemy. And the enemy behind them was far more dangerous than anything any clan had to fight.

Loyalty and treason were ultimately judgements for the clan lord alone. The clan knights would serve and leave the decisions to him. And of all missions she'd taken part of, this one felt particularly important not just to the clan but all humanity. Enough so that even the clan lord himself would hedge his own home against the success. She'd work with the Winterscars as if they were her own brothers and sisters, and let them be judged once the snow had settled.

The occult pulsed around them again in the subtle tell-tale sign of their hunter. This time it sounded right behind her. She ignored the chill spreading down her back, diving further into the soul fractal to escape her body’s fear. Her armor crouched mid-sprint, letting the boot slide against the ground with a few sparks, twisting herself around gracefully, one hand aiming the knightbreaker while the other held a blade at the ready.

“Rear flank.” She called out, alerting the rest of the team. Armors had shown difficulty measuring or detecting the Occult, they lacked the hardware and software to do so, despite being made of the occult themselves. Teamwork was needed as the enemy had already preyed on this blindspot before.

She was going to open fire with the knightbreaker this time instead of holding onto it in reserve. The Feather hunting them all had shown himself immune to threats, unlike To’Accar who’d been forced to engage more cautiously so long as a weapon was trained on him.

Pale blue light came from the rock wall, and a pale blue figure stepped through, similar to the wraiths the Winterscar scion had summoned before. In his hands, a ghostly chain spun around, already gathering speed.

The figure materialized, turning solid again, and dragging the dangerous weapon into reality with him. She didn’t have time to soak in the details, as the chain whip was speeding directly at her with the mace-head tip.

Her number was up. She pressed down on the trigger the moment he was material enough.

An instant after, she threw herself to the side, slamming her shoulder into a rough dodge roll. Occult pulsed across the tip of the chainweapon as it sailed by her, just as she recovered from her roll. The shockwave leaping out from the weapon was caught by her armor’s shields, strong enough to throw her into the wall. It jolted her neck and head violently to the side. She could see bits of her organs shake through the soul sight, but the hit hadn’t been direct. The shockwave was minor, force transferring through the air and rapidly losing the dangerous edge. Her neck would feel sore once all of this was over, but so would most of her body given the hits she'd already taken on this mission.

Loraii was still alive and capable of combat. That was a victory in itself.

Her own shot had been fired with expert aim and flew right into the figure. Then the round went through the figure, slamming against the wall behind him.

She hissed a curse under her breath. The Feather had gone immaterial right as the shell was about to collide against him. A moment later, he was corporal again, withdrawing the chain in midair, the movements defying gravity and all logic as the chain returned back into a swinging circle in his hands. A twist around himself and the chain again raced out, seeking for another victim in a straight line forward.

Directly at Javalin this time, the clan knight rushing forward to intercept alongside the two others holding the rearguard. They’d passed by Loraii a moment ago, becoming the largest threat to the Feather now.

The knight jumped to the side of the attack, only for the Feather’s hand to grip the occult chain at the base. The section touched instantly winked out of power, allowing the enemy to manipulate the weapon with ease. The chain’s mace end redirected from the tug at the base of the hilt, and slammed into Javalin’s exposed side.

The occult pulse came out again, and Javalin was tossed far into the wall, shields flaring up as chunks of rock cracked and flew off from the destruction. His medical report turned from orange to red as he bounced off the rock and down into the ground. Too much internal bleeding inside, too many fragmented bones cutting away at the man’s soft tissues.

Despite the damage, he was already standing back up on one knee as quickly as he could. The chain was recalled, and then swung back, like a wide occult scythe, seeking him out again from a side angle, relentless.

Javalin drew out his blade, angling it like a shield against the bright blue chainlinks of the Feather’s weapon.

His edge held against the chain as it crashed into him.

And then the mace-tip continued its path, wrapping around the knights side, arm, back and helmet neck guard. Shields flared up, trying to protect their user in one last desperate attempt, but Loraii had seen this happen twice already. Just like knightbreakers, this Feather’s weapon also ate away shields faster than an eyeblink.

Javelin didn’t have time to utter a gasp of surprise. His shields flared and broke. Fractals on his armor lit up, the occult dome shields holding off the chain. Willpower pitted against the very concept of destruction.

Javelin held off the chain long enough for him to yank his reserve knife out of his boot and launch it against the Feather with one last war cry.

The enemy's spare hand backhanded the thrown weapon, taking a slight dip in his shield in the exchange. One of the few times any damage had been sucessfully dealt. Almost at the same moment, the chains broke past Javalin's occult defense and ripped into his arm, chest and neck, cutting through the armor as if it didn't exist.

Loraii’s HUD showed his name turn grey. He'd been one of the better trained knights with those fractals. Far better at it than she was. Now, all that was left of the knight was cut sections of armor, and far, far too much blood.

Another one of them dead. A veteran, a dozen years of history and close calls, hundreds of expeditions where he'd returned successful and alive - all to end up here. Killed in a blink of an eye.

The other two knights continued their wild sprint forward, ignoring the grim sight, eyes focused only on the enemy. Nearly there.

The Feather withdrew his chain again, the hilt he carried outright eating the links back into itself, far too much mass for it to hide. There had to be some kind of space folding fractal within that hilt hiding the true length of the weapon. His armored foot stepped back, and flicked her spent knightbreaker round up and into his spare hand. The Feather nodded, then turned translucent again, walking backwards into the wall, melting into it, as the two clan knights ripped into the earth and rock with their blades, failing to catch the thief.

They cursed loudly, one slamming an arm against the rock in impotent fury.

“Mark a third round stolen.” Icestride prime called out. “Note that the enemy is attempting to bait our attacks in order to secure the rounds. We’ll need to open fire on him when he has no choice but to remain manifested. All units, hold fire on knightbreakers until further notice or if you’re completely sure it will connect.”

The Feather had begun his reign of terror with thievery twenty minutes ago. Appearing behind the team with no weapons and two free hands. With those, he’d unhooked two knightbreakers, launchers and all, from the backs of two knights before turning immaterial again and slipping away with his haul. They’d been forced to hold onto their weapons with one hand now, just to be sure the weapons couldn’t be stolen again.

The Feather had tried again, and thus far hadn’t been able to steal more rounds.

Now he had three rounds to his name. All because Loraii hadn’t been fast enough on the trigger. If she could have had that round slam into the scraphead the moment he’d attempt his chain occult trick, it might have worked. She should have fired earlier, before he’d materialized.

“We can’t outrun him.” Their leader said, thinking. “Form up into a defensive ball, Icewing, eyes on the ceiling. Tempest knights, eyes on the floor. Everyone else, cover your angle. We’ll escape this slowly. Eyes out for possible explosives or structurally weak ceilings. A cave in is likely his next plan.”

The knight was an experienced veteran of her House, and the third highest ranking knight, with Windrunner and Clan Lord Atius taking the higher ranks. He was growing on the years, white hair and heavy wrinkles claiming his head, while his bones barely supported his movements anymore.

In armor, the man was among their most deadly knights. Not just for his skill with the blade, but also his uncanny ability to ferret out machine and raider movements ahead of time. She’d been on expedition with him as a lead more than a dozen times over her career. Windrunner was more politically powerful, and a better swordsman, but in terms of tactics, she’d trusted the Icestride Prime.

Though perhaps she was being biased, considering he was part of her House.

Their group moved at a far more comfortable pace now, all in lockstep with one another.

Occult pulsed once more, and this time the Tempest knights called out on comms the direction.

A blue wraith’s head lifted from underground, eyes watching. Realizing he’d been spotted from all the weapons pointing directly at his face, he vanished back underground, aborting the attack.

The next attack had been within the minute, where he had appeared already ahead of the team, past a turn they’d been approaching.

The moment the Winterscar knights checked their angle, a chain was already soaring to the front one. He moved on sheer reflex, turning his torso and taking a small step to the side, letting the chain soar past his helmet, trusting the warriors behind him to handle the attack.

Behind, a House Tempest knight had a blade slashing up, slapping against the chain tip and throwing the mace end up and into the wall. The occult detonation hit a moment later, ripping chunks of rocks down, revealing rays of artificial light above. Water poured in from the hole, dropping down like a waterfall into the tunnels, swiftly building up at their feet before sweeping down the path.

The ceilings were thin here. They must be close to the temple entrance, just under the lake of shallow water that surrounded the temple.

The Winterscar knights charged forward at the monster before them, moving as a team in a perfect example of a flying V formation. Rookie soldiers with little experience they may be, they were still clan swordmasters who’d been trained with aspirations to become relic knights. They all knew how to fight both individually and as a team.

The Feather twirled the chain back and once more went for a scything attack. Low enough to the ground all four knights leapt above it without pause. The Feather hummed, eyes narrowing through those spectacles of his. A pale white armored gauntlet once more reached to the base of the chain, pushing it with the back of his hand, and pulled the chain like a knight fishing against a reel.

The chain obeyed his command, striking the wall, bouncing off and redirecting back at an angle. She knew what would happen next. At this angle, the knights would be forced to crouch under. And right as they did, the Feather would use that hand already on the chain, moving his body in sync, and force the chain down on the crouching knight like an executioner’s blade.

One more of them would die again.

The Winterscar knight closest did just that, crouching to avoid the attack, blade lifted with one hand, ready in guard for an attack that would only wrap around his defense and end him in one blow.

The Feather followed through, a step back, twisting his torso and chest all the while manipulating the chain. A burst of occult spread through it, halting it's prior speed, hanging still in the air for only a moment before it soared down to wrap around the caught knight.

His blade struck out, connected with the occult chain, and then he pushed further. Using the occult edge on his blade like a makeshift hand, forcing the chain to the side as he twisted out of the way. A deflection and dodge in one fluid motion.

The result was brilliant. The chain crashed against the ground, harmless again.

The Feather recalled the chain - or attempted to. Another Winterscar stomped down hard on the mace end of the chain, blade flying down to stab the weapon through one of the links and pin it to the ground before it could slither away back to its master.

He succeeded, the tip of his sword digging perfectly through one of the open links, and then sinking further into the rock.

The Feather’s strength was simply too much for his armor or the rock under him to hold against. The chain flew back to the owner’s hilt as if nothing had tried to hold it back in the first place, while the Winterscar’s blade ripped out of his hand, the rocks under him breaking apart with little resistance, destabilizing his footing.

The enemy observed the tunnel cautiously, a hand on the hilt of his spare longsword, as the other two Winterscar knights neared within striking distance. She could tell he was contemplating his odds, weighing how much time he had before the rest of the knight and herself descended on him.

The Winterscars slashed for his throat and arms, both blades going through the transparent wraith. He rematerialized, the blade in one hand, the shortened chain in the other. Using the blade as a spare hand to move his chain, all the while stabbing and striking out against the two knights with incredible speed. Each time they came close to a hit, he turned immaterial, allowing the blow to pass by for a split-second.

But in doing so, he was giving up his own chance of dealing damage alongside, the immaterial chain sailing through a Winterscar’s chestplate in one such clash.

Attempts to deal damage to the Winterscar knights only opened him up for counter attacks, and while he moved far faster than either of the knights, there were two of them and both were looking for a chance to shoot him with the knightbreakers at point blank range. It was controlled chaos, slashes and stabs flying wildly, all of it parried, blocked, dodged or aborted midway to avoid danger as he took steps backwards.

The Feather fought against the pair with a cold calculating glare, contemplating each movement, each attack, each swing of his chain, seeking out weaknesses.

She saw the change in his objective the moment it happened. He stopped going for hits on the knights to whittle down their shields, and turned his attention to breaking apart those knightbreaker launchers. He managed one, cutting it near the hilt of the soldier’s grip. The barrel flew free - and within it, the round itself remained.

He wasn’t able to kick it away into his territory, the Winterscar knight too quick to spike the flying part down with the flat of his blade the moment it had been cut off, while the other instantly kicked the downed scrap backwards, into the rest of the clan knight formation and safe from the Feather’s attempt to steal the weapon.

For once, the Feather looked annoyed at that. The first sign of true emotion on the creature.

The rest of the clan knights descended on the enemy a moment later. He chose to retreat back into the wall. Two was his limit. Fighting the knights in close quarters had been the most danger he’d let himself be in thus far.

Once more the knights hit against dull rock, leaving no trace of the enemy.

Their group huddled back into a defensive circle, not letting the enemy possibly catch them off guard. Icestride Prime nodded at the four knights with their blood red sigils. Calmly analyzing the battle, old eyes trying to discern every bit of information he could. He’d reached a conclusion. “He won’t reappear.” He said to the quiet group. “We’ve been adapting new methods of fighting him off with each encounter. Now, we’ve gone even with him for the first time. The next, we could score a victory. He will not take that chance. Once we make it out of the tunnels, we’ll report all our findings to the clan lord. Including what worked and didn’t.”

The group took his word as law, forming up and continuing down the tunnel, to where the entrance of the temple might be.

They had to get through these tunnels and warn Lord Atius of the threat. Even against a full battalion of trained knights, all using the winterblossom technique in addition to knightbreakers, three of them had died, more had been wounded and ordinance had been stolen right from their hands.

It took another half hour to navigate to another entrance, and Icestride Prime’s prediction had come true. They found light at the end of the tunnel, and exited out into the open air of the temple ruins, safe and alive. Comms connection returned instantly, including with the Shadowsongs left behind the parameter, and the away team further into the temple.

The Feather never reappeared since their last fight. She didn’t know if she should be thankful, or worried. With every clash, they’d gained some information on how to fight him. Information that had come at the cost of their lives, but could save Lord Atius and the others alongside him.

Regardless, they survived the gauntlet.

And now they could take the fight to the enemy.

Next chapter - More points into sneak

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