Unbound

“We made it!” Pit cried out. His Companion was right up against him but the roar of the winds almost drowned out his voice. “Felix! Let go!”

“He cannot hear us!” Vess reached out and hissed in pain as the light around Felix intensified. “I cannot reach him!”

“I got it! Convergence!”

Pit vanished and reappeared within Felix’s Spirit, which in the weird, not-quite-real worlds within worlds of core spaces, was only a short distance from Felix’s own core. He dove deep, past the Tree and the spinning rings.

Felix!

There was no answer, even in the man’s own core space. Rivers of Mana and Essence poured in all around him, spiraling down from above like a dive-bombing waterfall. Pit flew among it, Willing himself further and further into the maelstrom. It was there, in the dark, that the Chimera saw his friend.

Felix! Wake up!

Pit soared down, faster and faster. The streams hurtled alongside him, hauled into Felix’s center so swiftly that their luminescence ran eye-searingly bright and agonizingly hot. Pit dodged, banking left and right between them all, but the streams were converging at the black center of his Companion’s core space.

Right where Felix stood.

The streams weren’t hitting him. In fact, there was nothing around his friend, except the yawning darkness of his Hunger. The streamers of power fed into the flat disc of it, spinning as if down an enormous, titanic drain, and Felix was balanced at the very edge of its brightest current. He stared vacantly into nothing, as if he couldn’t hear Pit at all.

Bad Hunger! Let him go! Pit demanded. It howled in response, a riot of Dissonance and Harmony; so close to that noise from the grinding cores above that it was indistinguishable. You already ate enough!

Still.

Hungry.

I don’t care! There’s no more food if there’s no more Felix! So cut it out!

There was no answer, only a continuation of its feeding frenzy. Felix tottered closer to the darknesses’ center.

Fine.

Pit’s ears popped as everything went utterly silent. The streams of Mana and Essence vanished, their power scattered into the wider expanse of Felix’s core space. The sound of chaotic music abated, a caesura of aching absence. Pit didn’t hesitate. He flew right into Hunger’s reach, pivoting by dint of Will and Alacrity just enough to snap his hooked beak onto Felix’s rugged coat.

I got you!

Chthonic Tribute is level 98!

Felix blinked awake, suddenly aware of a great many things—and unhappy with almost all of them.

“Pull!” someone yelled. “Toss anything you can!”

“I’m trying! He’s yanking us along too fast!”

He didn’t know what they meant, and he didn’t care—Felix was far too preoccupied with the mountain they were bearing down on. He reached for power, and found something new.

Storm Shaping!

Winds ripped from between his hands, carried with the force of a hurricane. Thunder roared, snapping between his arms, and their sled bucked under the sudden force. It rattled, twisted, skipped out to the side. The Hoarhounds yelped, their traces snapping as the wind threw them out of the way, and their ice sled bashed into the Kingsrock like a battering ram. It snapped in half.

Storm Shaping is level 2!

…

Storm Shaping is level 11!

“Oouf!”

“Hrrk!”

Felix rode the spinning sled to a stop, his two hands securing the Risi drivers in their seats too. Everyone else, however, was thrown onto the golden ground as the bed split in two. Felix tensed before releasing a pent up breath as his Eye cataloged their Health. They were all fine, though the Chanters weren’t happy.

“Holy cow,” Beef said, landing some distance away. He was one of the few that had gotten away. The Sharpwing Matriarch had attached to his back and flown him completely off the sled, and Hallow’s Multipede had Naberius and Kimaris on her back.

“What was that?” Naberius asked. In the distance, the other sleds approached, moving far slower.

“Storm Shaping,” Felix said. For the first time, he noticed the Spears, chain, and chitinous appendages lodged around the sled’s skis. “How long were you trying to stop?”

“Not long,” Evie said with a groan. “Had only a few ticks between enterin’ and stoppin’.” She kicked the ground. “Not like we could pierce this gleamin’ gold anyway.”

“You were moving us quite fast,” Vess added. Her eyes roamed across Felix’s body. Searching. “Felix? Are you alright?” She put her hands on his shoulders, as if she needed to steady him, but he felt more than fine.

“I’m good. Just got a little carried away.”

“A little?” she asked.

“More than a little. I—” Felix felt at his chest, where even now thick scales coated him beneath his mended Garment. With a chill, he knew that his Hunger could have chosen not to release him. He could have been stuck there. “It feels stronger. My Hunger. The pull of it was incredible when I just…let go.”

Vess laid her hand over his. “Let go of what?”

Of everything, he wanted to say, but he could feel the curious gaze of Tzfell and Laur boring into the back of his skull. Instead, he mustered a smile. “My good sense, I guess. Sorry for making you worry.”

Vess rubbed her fingers over the back of his hand. “I am simply relieved that you are fine.”

Pit reappeared in a flash of light next to Felix. “Don’t worry, guys. I gave that dummy a talking to.”

Vess curled her fingers around Felix’s own. “Dummy?”

Felix blinked. “My Hunger?”

Pit nodded, looking fierce. “She didn’t know she was hurting you. I explained it. Easy peasy.”

“She?” Felix and Vess asked at the same time.

“We have attained the Kingsrock! Moreover, we are the first to have reached it!” Mother Vepar raised arms into the sky and released a spray of ice crystals. They caught the light like sparkling flares. A cheer went up, Warriors, Witches, and Claw members joining in as the sleds had come into range. Everyone, even the Feldspear Witches, were relieved to have arrived in one piece. “Yet this is not the end! Warriors! Form a perimeter! We must secure our place against all comers.”

“More of this ‘we’ talk,” Evie muttered. “Haven’t seen them do much but sit tight.”

“Think they’re planning something?” Beef asked.

“That would be stupid, kid. They ain’t stupid,” Harn said. “They’re supportin’ Felix now, and his success is their success.”

“I agree. They are not fools,” Vess said. “It is the other tribes I am worried about, as well as the remainder of this strange ceremony.”

“Lord Autarch,” Mother Vepar continued. “Normally something like this would require more pomp and pageantry, but the other tribes will be upon us soon. I would ask that you present yourself to the Kingsrock, as all our Chieftains have done.”

Felix glanced at the sheer wall of stone, only a couple feet from his position. “Present myself?”

“Place your hand on the Kingsrock,” Mother Vepar clarified. “And we shall do what we must.”

That’s…ominous. But Felix hadn’t come all this way not to claim the Kingsrock. He took two firm steps and put his clawed hand atop the craggy stone.

It felt warm, as if it had been baking in the summer sun, and was not nearly as rough as it appeared. Felix smiled. It was actually really nice, at least until something rippled beneath his palm. Unnerved, he pulled his hand back just as a deep bell tolled, not so much echoing through the air as vibrating through everything. Felix clenched his teeth against it, and several of the abused ice sleds broke to splinters.

From the ground rose a series of familiar boundary stones, these uncoated by moss. Glyphs surged with light, illuminating looping swirls of script that were far too complex for Felix to immediately parse.

Ribbons of light manifested in the air, stronger than ever before. A phenomenon similar to the aurora borealis back home wrapped around the monolithic majesty of the Kingsrock, adding to the effects of the strange sky. The monolithic structure was normal stone at ground level, almost seeming like a mountain ripped straight from the earth—but hundreds of feet up it transitioned seamlessly into fluted towers and delicate walkways. Felix couldn’t make out much more than that, though, and even the ground level was oddly distorted.

“Felix?”

“Yeah, Beef?” Felix said, still trying to peer past the light above.

“We got a problem.” Felix tore his attention away and saw Beef hefting his maul. The Minotaur was nervously regarding the golden ground. “My core is going nuts. There’s something coming.”

A hundred feet away, fists the size of water barrels punched through the metal earth, tearing screeching holes that geysered with liquid light. Blackened-green Mana followed, thick and syrupy, clinging hard to the desiccated bones of enormous Giantfolk corpses.

You Have Received A Timed Quest!

Survive Against The Unquiet Dead!

Duration: Ten Minutes

The Challenger and their Retinue may fight—up to 100 members, not including the Challenger. If a member of the Challenger’s Retinue dies, time is lost. If the Challenger dies, they fail. If all of the Retinue perish, the Challenger fails. Their Title will be unmoored; any that defeat them will take it.Reward: Title, Authority

Prepare Yourself, Challenger.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Felix groaned.

Mother Vepar and her Witches and Warriors stood close to hand. “This is your greatest challenge, Lord Autarch. Survive and you shall be worthy of the title of Chieftain!”

He ran his Voracious Eye across the amassing undead. The giants were listed as Berserkers, Stonehands, and Frostcallers. No Witches or Warriors, but higher evolutions of the Risi people, specializing in endurance, in enormous strength, and in deadly ice magic respectively.

They were Tier III and Tier IV creatures. Powerful even in small amounts, but over four hundred clawed their way out of the earth, and they weren’t alone. Smaller corpses flooded out of the large rents, stout creatures bearing axes and halberds and swords in their thick mitts. All of them wore heavy, brutal-seeming armor.

“Those are Dwarven warriors,” Tzfell said. Her tattooed face was pale. “Ironclads. Adept Tier. And that,” she lifted a shaking finger and pointed at a single Dwarven corpse adorned in some sort of silver-green armor. It held a hammer and a really thick shield. “Noctis wept. That is a Forge Knight.”

“Forge Knight?” Felix asked. His Eye roved over them and he grunted in understanding before the words left the Chanter’s mouth.

“A Forge Knight would have been a leader among the Prince’s personal guards. They are legendary warriors. Master Tier.”

Mm.

“The Dwarven Prince. You think these are corpses from that war?” Felix asked, ignoring his Hunger for the moment.

“They must be.”

“There are at least three hundred of the lesser Dwarves,” Laur pointed out. “That many Adepts…Not even counting the Master Tier, I have never faced so many powerful foes.”

“Good thing I’m not asking you to,” Felix said. “I got this. Alone.”

“Hey!”

“With Pit,” Felix amended. His Companion trilled happily. “Everyone stay back.”

“Oh good. I could use a nap,” Evie said.

“You sure?” Beef asked. “Those are a lot of monsters. And undead are kinda my thing.”

“I’ll see if I can save some corpses for you,” Felix said to the teen. “How many more Bodies can you handle, Hallow?”

The Homunculus on Beef’s shoulder tilted her head. “A few more, depending on their strength. Beef has grown quite strong. Soon we shall be legion once more.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Are You Prepared, Challenger?

Y/N

Felix considered the blue box prompt, mentally checking over everything on his person. Pit summoned his dark ice armor over his barding, suddenly looking twice his normal size and three times as ferocious. He hovered his finger over the yes option.

“Here they come,” Harn muttered.

Felix looked up to find, not the undead, but dozens of other Risi tribes pouring across the golden plains toward them. They rode upon strange beasts and ice sleds, wrapped in wardings and sizzling curses and bristled with black iron weapons. There was even another Razorspine, bearing a separate tribe upon its back. In less than thirty seconds, they had surrounded their small party.

“Are we…fighting?” that Half-Orc mage asked.

“Naw, they’re waiting, looks like,” Evie said.

It certainly seemed that way to Felix. Witches and Warriors glared at them all, but their Spirits surged with hate when they saw non-giants in their midst. This could go sideways real fast.

The Feldspear Witches marched up to Felix. Their leader, a woman with bright purple eyes, looked like she wanted to fight him, but her words belied her expression. “Do not worry about the other tribes. And do not fret over the undead, either. The Feldspear Coven will aid you, Lord Autarch.”

“No. The Cold Rock Coven will. You are not required,” Mother Vepar said. She and her Coven had scrambled after their rivals, and the two groups stared daggers at one another. “With us, Lord Autarch, you are assured victory—”

“No.” Felix said. “Both of you stay out of it.”

“You cannot—”

Felix held up a hand, and the Covens went silent. I could get used to that. “You want me to prove I can do this? Then I will.” He nodded at the other tribes, who were gathering into loose knots of bristling warriors. “You keep an eye on them.”

“They would not interfere now. Not with a System challenge.”

“Good. Then your job is easy.” He walked forward, away from the giants and his company. Pit trotted behind.

Are You Prepared, Challenger?

Y/N

Yes.

Do You Have A Retinue?

If So, Designate How Many.

Yeah. Just one.

Warning!

A Large Retinue Is Recommended.

Do You Wish To Proceed?

Felix rolled his eyes. “If people could stop arguing with me for five minutes, that’d be great. Yes.”

That bell tolled again, shaking through his chest and bones. The undead perked up and, as one, turned and faced Felix and Pit.

“Alright, bud.” Felix cracked his neck. “Showtime.”

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