—Chapter 18—

—My Father’s Arcana—

“Look what you’ve done,” Husker growled. He flashed his fangs at Sen. “How do you plan to get us to the AVU Palace?”

Sen pointed to the many lockers, and then gestured to darkness of the warehouse. “Quickly gather some things. Boots. Pants. Knives. Pack it in the bags in the back of the locker. We’ll figure everything out later.”

Husker didn’t question the kid. He gathered the supplies, hastily shoving them all into two backpacks. The rats were in the way, but the werewolf shoved them aside with clawed hands. “How are we going to make it? We can’t take any of city transports, not with the Eyes of the Arbiter looking for our warrior. It’ll take too long to get to the palace.”

“We’ll take the Lightning Lift,” Sen said matter-of-factly. “Once we reach one of the lifts, it’ll only take us a minute to travel to the palace.”

“Have you forgotten it costs arcana to travel on the Lightning Lifts?” Husker threw on a backpack and then threw one at Kellan. With a grunt, Kellan caught the pack and then slung it over one shoulder.

“I can pay the costs,” Sen said, his volume raising, damn near shouting.

Kellan held up a hand, his teeth gritted. “Quiet. What’s wrong with you? There’s a lunatic murder nearby, and you can’t ever seem to control your volume.”

“We just have to reach the main road,” Sen said, taking a deep breath and then exhaling. “Everyone stay calm… but also remember that we’ll die a terrible death if we fail this.” He pointed forward and then snapped his fingers. “Let’s go.”

Rushing around enemy territory—unfamiliar enemy territory—wasn’t Kellan’s idea of a sound plan. He hated every second they rushed through the dark warehouse and out into the stormy weather gathering overhead.

Something else caught Kellan’s eye. The moment they exited the warehouse, he spots lights in the sky. Laser, spotlights, and even glittery effects filled the clouds. The lights came from the city itself, like there was a premiere happening nearby. The spotlights swirled around, and the multi-colored lasers danced alongside them.

“Are we at an 80s laser light show?” Mavis asked, her eyes narrowed at the weather. “What is this?”

“It’s from the palace,” Sen stated. “Let’s go. Down that alleyway over there.” He turned to Husker. “Carry me.”

The canine-man growled something in irritation, but then stooped and picked up the boy. He carried him alongside the backpack, and then took off down the alleyway Sen had pointed at. It was wider than the last, and lined with dumpsters.

Kellan hated the smell, but he didn’t have time to note it. He stepped on something. With his bare feet.

A nail.

Pain flared through his calf and leg, practically up his spine. The nail had gone straight into the heel of his foot. He sucked in his breath and half-fell onto one leg.

Goddammit. I guess that means my ‘ignore pain’ ability is over…

Husker continued forward, running faster down the alleyway the longer he went. Mavis was the only one to glance over her shoulder. When she noticed Kellan, she stopped.

“Are you coming?” she asked.

Kellan waved her on. “Keep going. I’m going to put on boots.”

“But—”

“I’ll catch up to you.”

Kellan was confident he could catch up with the group, so long as he had protection for his feet. Mavis must’ve thought the same, because she replied with a nod and pushed herself to catch up with Husker, her limp slowing her a bit.

With a few swift movements, Kellan unslung his backpack and dragged a pair of boots out. They weren’t the right size, but at least they were larger than needed, and could fit on his feet and then be tied secure. He slammed his feet into them, but cringed when he slid his injured foot into the leather of the boot. The blood made everything slick.

Should I heal this? I only have two mana left.

He stood, and tested out his ability to walk. It hurts, but I can make do. I should probably conserve my magic.

Screams echoed down the alleyway, but not in the direction of Mavis and the others. The shouts were coming from behind him.

Kellan tensed and whipped around. Were the shrieks coming from the warehouse? At first, he turned to ignore them, but then he heard words being shouted.

“Don’t touch my sister! Leave us alone!”

Another scream.

“Help!”

The paralyzing couple seconds left Kellan drained. He held his breath, his chest tight. They sounded like kids. Could he leave them? Were they running from the mass murderer who butchered all those people in the warehouse?

The thought of leaving…

It bothered Kellan to think he would just abandon people calling for help.

“Damn,” Kellan whispered to himself as he hurried back to the warehouse.

The laser light show continued overhead.

Kellan exited the alleyway, and it was everything he had feared.

Two kids were huddled next to a giant pile of trash. They were no older than ten, both wearing sweat-stained jogging pants and oversized T-shirts. One was a boy with a lump on his face, just over his left eye. A tumor? And the other, a girl, had so many teeth they were fighting to stay in her mouth.

Were they locals of the Nexus?

A rennic loomed over them—a werewolf that looked like a black and white Siberian Husky. He wore military cargo pants and nothing else, like a thug from an old-school gang movie. Crimson blood dripped from his massive claws. He wiped the blood off on his pants as he smiled a fang-filled grin at the kids.

“Leave our f-family alone,” the boy shouted, his right eye streaming tears, but his left eye—the one under the tumor—too milky white to even move.

Kellan was only fifteen feet away from the whole scene. Kellan’s analysis gave him some info on the werewolf killer.

Name: Griss the Black Wolf

Race: Rennic

Magics: Wyld, Magma

Rank: C, D

Armor Rating: ---

Health: 9

Stats: Concealed

Abilities: Concealed

The Black Wolf?

The rennic swiped his claws at the children, cutting the boy on the arm. When the kid screamed, the werewolf chuckled, his sadistic enjoyment plain for all to see.

The little girl cried.

Kellan didn’t know the kids, and he suspected they were the children of “inbred mages,” but he didn’t care. He refused to sit by and do nothing while a lunatic cut down kids for arcana.

He lifted his rifle, took aim, and fired. The shot hurt his ears, and startled the rest.

[Alex Kellan] shot [Griss] for 10 damage. (5 +100% Sharpshooter Modifier + Sevriss Bonus)

[Griss] reduces damage of each hit equal to its armor rating of 2.

[Griss] takes a total of 8 damage.

The werewolf’s head practically exploded off his body. The rennic hit the ground soon after, splashing in the chunks of flesh and blood.

Kellan half-smirked. He hadn’t expected his shot to be so damaging. Sevriss is paying for himself, I guess.

The children stared on in horror. First at the gore, and then turning their misshapen eyes on Kellan. He grimaced, well aware that he probably looked just as frightening as the rennic had.

Kellan moved forward, prepared to end the rennic and ultimately save the kids, when something unexpected happened. Despite missing half his brains and most of his face, Griss got to his feet. Without warning, the bloody rennic unleashed a torrent of flame—like he had a flamethrower, only the heat and fire came straight from his padded hand.

Kellan used his weapon to shield his face, but it wasn’t enough.

[Griss] hits [Alex Kellan] with a beam for 3 fire damage.

[Tyranny Worms] restore [Alex Kellan] for 1 damage a round.

Kellan tried to quickly duck away, but he leaned too much weight on his injured foot and half-stumbled. His burnt arm was stitched together by the worms. Before he could react to the situation, the werewolf was already on top of him. Griss ripped Kellan’s rifle out of his hands and threw it to the side.

To Kellan’s horror, the rennic’s head and face were “growing” back in place, seemingly made from nothing—or perhaps mana, he wasn’t sure.

With supernature strength, Griss slashed Kellan across the chest with two-inch long claws. Kellan hit the ground, his vision tunneling.

[Griss] uses Berserker’s Rage, temporarily boosting physical stats and gaining regeneration.

[Griss] slashes [Alex Kellan] for a total of 3 damage.

[Tyranny Worms] restore [Alex Kellan] for 1 damage a round.

Kellan only had seven health.

Griss had dealt six. The worms had healed two.

But doing math was the least of Kellan’s worries. Without his rifle, he struggled to come up with a plan. The werewolf—overcome with wyld-magic rage—howled at the sky, his scream half-drowned out by the crack of thunder that followed.

I have two mana, Kellan reasoned, his heartbeat loud in his ears. I can mold metal, ignore pain, make things light up… or…

Kellan closed his eyes and remembered the armor Sen had just given him. He spent a single mana and the magical item attached to his spine—the Shadow of a Dying Star—activated.

Black shadows wrapped themselves around Kellan in an instant. Cold power covered his body from head to toe, breathing no life into his sore muscles. He could see through the shadows over his face, but he somehow knew they protected him completely. They were… a part of him. Like a third arm. A third eye.

When the rage-infested werewolf attacked again, the shadows leapt from Kellan body to block the blow, even going so far as to try to knock the clawed hand away.

[Griss] slashes [Alex Kellan] for 3 damage.

[Alex Kellan] reduces damage of each hit equal to its armor rating of 2.

[Alex Kellan] living armor takes a total of 1 damage.

[Tyranny Worms] restore [Alex Kellan] for 1 damage a round.

I healed up to four health.

But Kellan was still on the ground. When Griss came in with claws again, Kellan grabbed a broken pipe on the ground.

Only one mana left.

He activated his mold metal ability—spending the last of his mana—and then gripped the pipe. He squeezed it on one side, flatting it until the pipe had become a blade. He struck at Griss as the wolf came in for an attack, hitting his side. He cut through the wolf’s fur, spilling blood across the cement. But Griss wasn’t even fazed.

The wolf slashed with powerful claws, hitting Kellan to the side and slashing his arm.

[Alex Kellan] cuts [Griss] with a makeshift knife for a total of 3 damage.

[Griss] reduces damage of each hit equal to its armor rating of 2.

[Griss] takes a total of 1 damage.

[Griss] regenerates 1 damage a round.

[Griss] slashes [Alex Kellan] for a total of 4 damage.

[Alex Kellan] reduces damage of each hit equal to its armor rating of 2.

[Alex Kellan] living armor takes a total of 2 damage and then breaks.

[Tyranny Worms] are unable to restore [Alex Kellan] and returned to Infestation Mode.

Kellan tumbled across the ground, his heart pounding.

The shadows around him broke, but some of his armor still remained, leaving him disorientated. Then the notification of the worms struck him. The worms couldn’t heal him anymore? Had he been damaged too much? And too often? Were the worms weak?

Griss stalked over to Kellan, saliva dripping from his blood-soaked maw. He barely functioned—his berserker rage seemed to take all higher thought from him.

Kellan pushed himself to his feet. Griss lashed out again, but Kellan managed to just barely dodge, his legs shaky. He still had his makeshift knife, but it obviously wouldn’t matter if the wolf could regenerate.

Think. What am I going to do?

Griss swiped again, this time with so much power, he almost knocked himself over. With simple movements, Kellan dodged aside. He knew a chance when he saw it. Kellan stabbed into the beast’s ribs as Griss tried to regain his footing. Then Kellan dodged away.

Again, the wolf healed.

Kellan waited, his own injures a mild distraction, but he pushed it all aside to focus on the fight. When the werewolf attacked again, Kellan had an idea. He stabbed into the beast’s ribs and molded the knife on to the wolf’s ribs, jamming the metal inside the man before he could regen.

Griss roared and backed away. With animal intelligence, he clawed at his own body, trying to rip the metal out of his ribs. His regeneration didn’t seem to include “ejecting foreign objects out of the body” so the metal prevented Griss from healing the injury.

It bled. Constantly.

Enraged, Griss turned to Kellan. He rushed in with his mouth open, and then he crunched his fangs on Kellan’s shoulder.

[Griss] bit [Alex Kellan] for a total of 3 damage plus bleeding.

[Alex Kellan] reduces damage of each hit equal to its armor rating of 2.

[Alex Kellan] takes a total of 1 damage.

[Alex Kellan] is bleeding. [Alex Kellan] will suffer an additional damage every 90 seconds until healing is received.

Without his worms, and at two health remaining, Kellan hit the ground, his vision spinning.

Through the confusion and suffering, Kellan spotted a piece of broken machinery next to his head. He grabbed it, molded the metal, and when Griss came to kill him, Kellan leapt up and stabbed the murderer in the neck.

More notifications, but Kellan ignored them.

Griss swiped with claws, but Kellan leaned away, dodging the attack, only to lean forward again and then mold the metal of the machine. He stabbed it into Griss’s neck. Kellan then molded the metal to hook it to Griss’s spine, preventing the werewolf from healing the injury to his throat.

With the intelligence of brick, Griss clawed at his own neck in an attempt to dislodge the metal. He screamed as he dug his claws deeper and deeper into his own fleshy body, completely out of control due to the magical rage.

It wasn’t long until the werewolf collapsed to the ground, both pieces of metal still jabbed into his body, causing him to bleed out on the concrete. The beast huffed and tried to take in ragged breaths, but everything sounded wet and strangled.

Kellan exhaled. While he had been in many dire situations in his life, he had never felt so out of sorts. The numbers from the magic gave him an accurate way to gauge effectiveness, but it also acted as a harsh reminder of his own mortality.

He wasn’t sure he enjoyed thinking of himself as having a “limited amount of health,” even if that was the reality.

With shaky legs, Kellan forced himself to his feet. I need my rifle. He stumbled over to his weapon—the black Mk-17 SCAR on the ground—and then scooped it up. The gun seemed pleased to return.

But Kellan had no mana.

No means to heal.

No way to use any of his abilities.

Then Kellan turned his attention to the two kids. Their deformed face stared back at him, eyes wide. The boy clutched a grocery bag close to his chest.

“P-Please,” the boy said. “Don’t hurt our family.”

Kellan shook his head, and then motioned them away. “Get out of here,” he said, his voice breathless. “Before some other murderer shows up. Hurry.”

The boy with the face tumor turned to the little girl with the crooked teeth. They regarded each other with a long and confused glance.

[Alex Kellan] suffers 1 damage from bleeding.

Kellan collapsed back to the ground, his heart racing.

He had one health left.

No mana.

The death march was real—and fast. With shaky hands, he tried to remove his shirt so he could tie it over his injuries and quell the bleeding. But he couldn’t manage it.

The little boy and girl hobbled over. Both of them had miss-matched legs, one longer than the other.

“You need to heal,” the little girl said, her voice a whisper.

“Can’t,” Kellan breathed. “I don’t have any mana.” Then he waved them away again. “Go. C’mon. Get to safety.” I took all this damage for you. At least get away. At least live.

The boy glanced over at the dead rennic. Two arcana glittered in the pool of blood. The boy scooped them up, his hands scarlet, and then handed them to Kellan.

Without hesitating, Kellan grabbed the glowing red crystals. They sank into his flesh as he absorbed them, but what good would that do? He didn’t have any abilities he could purchase that would help in the situation. All the healing from body magic was in D rank—at least, the magic he could see.

“Can you increase your magical rank?” the little girl asked.

She had muddy blonde hair and watery gray eyes. Her tannish skin was miscolored in areas, like she was diseased. Even then, her eyebrows wrinkled together in genuine concern.

“I can’t,” Kellan said through a ragged breath. “I only have… four arcana… It takes five for me to rank.” What good would it do anyway?

“You get more mana when you rank up,” the girl said, answering Kellan’s unspoken question.

The little boy stared at Kellan with his one good eye. His tumor eye—milky and unseeing—never blinked.

Time was running out.

The boy placed the grocery bag on the ground. A chorus of tiny clinks reached Kellan’s ears. It sounded like the kid was carrying around glass.

When the boy opened the bag, Kellan caught his breath.

Arcana. All of it.

At least fifteen.

“This is our family,” the boy said as he sifted through the arcana. Then he grabbed a specific red crystal and held it his mishappen ear, like he was listening to the ocean inside a shell. “My father wants to thank you… For saving me and my sister. He wants you to live.”

The boy held out the single arcana.

“I can’t,” Kellan said, his whole body twisted in anguish as his vision faded more and more.

“He wants you to live,” the boy repeated, thrusting the arcana closer to Kellan. “Please. Before it’s too late.”

Without many other options, Kellan held out a shaky hand.

The arcana… It had been red, but the moment Kellan’s fingers got close, it glittered with an inner golden hue. The arcana shifted color completely to a bright gold, just as Kellan absorbed it.

He didn’t know why, and he didn’t care. If he wanted to live, he had to do something.

Now, with five arcana, he could rank one of his magics, gain mana, and then heal…

But whichever magic he picked would become his primary.

Eclipse, the magic of light and dark.

Body, the magic of flesh and physical improvement.

Metal, the magic of civilization and technology.

Kellan had no time to dwell. He went with his gut instinct, and just ranked the one he thought would help him the most…