Unbound

Thunderwing is level 73!

Pit shot through the sky, ignoring entirely the spells and Skills that shot at him from below. He was far too fast to be hit by the few that noticed him, and all Pit had eyes for was the glowing stone crater near the city wall.

Felix! I am on the way!

There was no response from his Companion, only a thunderous crescendo of chaotic song. Pit recognized what was happening—it had happened before, after all, back in the Omen Path. He was too far away to Converge with his friend’s Spirit, but glimpses flashed along their bond, and the sheer magnitude of Felix’s struggle was overwhelming. All Pit could do was get close enough to merge—then, at least, he could help.

Pit was so intent on his flight path that he wasn’t entirely sure what made him look aside, except perhaps a dire instinct passed down from his ancestors. A frisson of phantom terror stole up his spine and tingled across his limbs, and Pit’s golden eyes swept around. What is—?

Ahead, three figures in white armor strode through the battlefield. Directly toward Felix.

A warble of anger gathered in Pit’s throat, but it died away as the High Guard met resistance. Six Frost Giants fell, split in half by a single blow. A dozen Legionnaires were crushed beneath an immense slab of stone, as if the earth had folded them up, while three dozen Haarguard clutched their throats and simply fell limp to the ground.

Never once did they stop.

Felix won’t be done when they reach him! That thrill of fear clutched at his voice, but he shoved it aside with his iron Will. He needs more time.

Pit would buy all he could.

Fiendforge is level 55!

Felix had descended into his core space, through the Essence-laden branches of his Divine Tree and across the shining expanse of his slowly rotating Skills. Farther down, past his grinding dual cores, the root-formed sigils and Seal, and into the glittering darkness beneath it all. There, in the shadows of his core space, two woven Pillars resided. Made of thick, gleaming cables formed from his Skills, each Pillar was threaded through by opalescent roots plaited into a nightmarishly complex weave.

Cables of light descended from above, where each of his Tempered Skills were tethered to his spinning dual cores. They had been gathering for months now, waiting for when Felix was ready to make this attempt. As Karys explained it, he only had one shot—and to weave them before he was an Adept would have risked his foundations. Fear and caution had kept Felix from pursuing the weaving, even after he’d reached Adept. Now, however, as the ache of it echoed throughout his core space, Felix had little choice.

His Willpower and Intent were firmly grasped around those colored cables, his Cardinal Flame flared for fine control. His Fiendforge clamped atop the entirety of his core space, for good measure. He was relying on his perfect recall to weave the cables together, twisting and braiding them as he had once done before with his first two Pillars, until they were trunks thick enough to support all that resided above. Within each glowing cable, Felix could feel the song of his Skills change with every pass, the texture of the weave altering the timbre, tone, and pitch.

Fiendforge is level 59!

The visualization techniques Vess had taught him were paying off, as was his Hunger’s ability to numb his senses. He floated within his personal void, and he worked.

Willpower and Intent were the hands by which the weaving operated, but it was his Affinity, Alacrity, and Perception that kept him ahead of the ever-changing patterns. Dissonance and Harmony sang sweet chaos into the dark, pressing deep within the Third Pillar as he went, flickering and flashing at their centers with red-gold abandon and blue-white freneticism.

As before, the opalescent roots of his Divine Tree intermingled through the Pillar—unlike the last time, however, the roots were far more responsive to his touch. He called them roots, but the System called them Veins, and they were not alone. First, the opalescent roots of his Divine Tree were seated deeply in the Pillar, anchoring his Skill cables with a solidity that could not be denied. Then, slipping through the gaps that Felix had not noticed, was a drumming Need whose rhythm hung like background radiation across his core space.

FEED.

Leave them alone! Felix warned. These are not for you!

The presence retreated, but it did not flee. His Hunger sat like a fat spider at the center of its web, watching and probably drooling while Felix braided power into physical marvels. The cables grew thicker and more potent the farther down he constructed them, their bases anchored by the heaviest and slowest-moving portions of his Skills’ songs. Each revolution and twist deepened their potency, until the working became so monstrous that even his Willpower could not fully encompass it. The Pillar snapped from his control, thrumming with a note so pure it shivered the entirety of his core space. Harmony and Dissonance chased after one another, note and counter note fitting together like the pieces of some teeth-grinding jigsaw puzzle.

The Third Pillar was done.

Six more to go.

He lost himself in the process, retracing his steps time and again. The deluge of Essence, Mana, and significance threatened to crush him as it piled through his hands, but he did not stop. He couldn’t. The weaving was unrelenting and tireless, too fast and heavy for him to halt. All he could do was guide it.

By the end of the Fourth Pillar, his firm grip turned to a precarious balancing act atop a blade that sliced him even as he strode forward into the breach. Yet, to fall off meant certain destruction. It sped up, the weaving moving faster and faster.Fiendforge is level 64!

The Fifth Pillar was next. Then the Sixth.

Power was gathering, trapped inside the cables and crystalline Veins that threaded through them all. It was growing, multiplying with every new Pillar he forged, but it was held at bay. Karys had mentioned this part as well; while the first Pillar had granted a bonus immediately, all nine would have to form before he could reap their full benefits.

Three more remained, but the implacable advance of power had slowed to a trickle. Above, his Divine Tree was barren, bereft of its Essence just as Felix’s cores were sucked dry of Mana as soon as he regenerated it. Even the halo around his Hunger, the Essence and power it had not yet digested had faded to almost nothing.

Still, just barely, a Seventh snapped into place.

Cardinal Flame is level 86!

Fiendforge is level 71!

Felix was so close to hitting Adept Tier with Fiendforge that he could taste it. A little longer, and he could harvest the System energy that would flood his core as it Tiered up…but no. Not yet. He might have been almost out of energy to fuel his weaving, but he knew other ways to get more.

Chthonic Trib—

A Link closest to his chest spiked with sudden fear, anger—and far more terrifying—agony. Felix’s focus broke. Pit!

If he left his core space, the Pillars could foul themselves as they continued to try and form. Karys had warned him of that—leaving things undone could have catastrophic consequences on his core space.

But his friend was in trouble.

There was no hesitation, no blink of the eye to weigh consequences. The knowledge of what could happen flitted through him, but Felix was already moving, rising back to his Body. He leaped from a twenty-foot deep crater and landed on the still-hot ground beyond.

Just in time to see an orichalcum sword chop off Pit’s wing.

Status Condition: Spirit Damage 15%

Status Condition: Curse of Flame!

Curse of Flame

When this Masterwork weapon deals an injury, the curse born by its blade ensures that said injury is permanent. The curse of flame is to burn forever.

“Oh, he is awake,” said a thin, almost skeletal looking fellow. He wore the same milk-white armor, but he carried a large, silver-chased book. His expression was curious but also very bored. “He is angry.”

“You should have stayed in your hole, Autarch,” Mace said. “You can’t fight all three of us at once.”

Two other High Guards advanced along with him, all of them without their smooth, featureless helms. The wild-eyed Mace stared with a manic glee, and the man—the man with the bloody blade glared with an expression of utter serenity.

“The Autarch finally graces us with his presence. Good.” Casually, as if mailing a letter, he sliced off Pit’s other wing, and his Companion writhed in utter agony. It echoed through Felix’s core, a debilitating pain that threatened to topple him. “Let us end this.”

Status Condition: Berserk

Berserk - Increase Damage Output By 20%, Increase Damage Taken By 20%

White-hot rage surged through his veins, unlike anything Felix had ever experienced. It evaporated the pain like it never existed, even as the Spirit Damage ratcheted up another fifteen percent. There was no thought.

There was only violence.

Mace charged forward, her namesake weapon lifted high.

Sovereign of Flesh!

Relentless Resolution!

Felix’s Will seized her Body, even as his morphed into a deadlier form. Scales ran the length of him, and his hands became tipped with vicious talons—talons he used to rip at her shoulder joint. For the tiniest fraction of a second, Mace’s Body resisted Felix’s Skill and Strength, but then it failed. She fell, screeching in pain and gushing blood, her momentum ruined as Felix held up her severed arm.

Chthonic Tribute!

And he fucking ate it.

“Blessed Pathless…” The sword bastard whispered, his calm broken. “What are you?”

Felix’s eyes blazed, staining his vision blue-white and red-gold. “Your executioner.”

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