Narh would have hovered at the edge of his seat, if centaurs could sit on seats that is.

Pillows. Pillows was where they were at.

But he was nervous. His people were usually an easy-going, slightly rambunctious sort of race. No reason to let worries get to you when you could easily outrun then. Physically, if need be. More than one centaur had waved his issues goodbye, after galloping off into the sunset. But then again, when a centaur got mad, look out. He felt the same thing watching Clicko.

The monkey-man was serious. Focused, when he had never before been anything less than distracted. That boded ill. And his prediction came true a second later.

“Got ya!” Clicko viciously grinned.

His stafe was imbedded in Kelunad’s flesh.

…how? When?!

“What an interesting artifact.” Kelunad drawled, trying and failing to catch the now shrinking stave.

“Hah. Artifact. Dumb orc.”

“Oh? Is it magic then?”

Clicko said nothing. But he did lower his stance, grasping his weapon tightly.

Is that idiot going to fight one on one?

“Flank him!” Narh called out. “Mages, support Clicko.”

“Belay that! I can protect myself. Not others.”

The mages around him moved and stopped, wands out and warry.

“You believe you can fight me.” Kelunad said, sounding surprised. “I confess I know little about you, Mage Clicko. But by all means, come.”

Clicko moved. There were only around a dozen feet between himself and Kelunad, but it seemed like it was enough space for him to use his stave to pole-vaunt over the orc. The orc whirled, an |Acid Dart| flyig even before he had finished the motion, but Cicko wasn’t there. He was at the top of his now elongated staff, right above Kelunad.

The stave shivered for a heartbeat, before unleashing a series of spikes point blank. They skewered Kelunad and the fact that they managed to pierce his skin seemed to rattle him more than anything else. But the monkey-man wasn’t done.

“|Splinter Spike Storm|”

Each of the spikes splintered, hitting Kelunad like shrapnel. They peppered his skin, while Clicko used the opportunity to jump to safety.

Or tried to.

“|Multiple Strikes|, |Omnidirectional Fire Slash|.”

His hand blurred and only after he finished casting did Narh see that his sword was already in his hand.

But the cuts never reached Clicko. The curved in the air, striking back at Kelunad, who parried them after only a second of surprise.

“Dimensional magic. Used in combat. I find myself pleased. Why does a mage of your power find himself with the Ascentionalists.”

“Because I would do so much better with the Martials.”

“You would.” The orc nodded. “Whatever my words were, I apologize for them. Will you allow me to extend an invitation?”

Clicko… hesitated. The straightened.

“Maybe.”

“Mage Clicko. This faction will lose control of Gnosis. And I would welcome a fine warrior as you, no matter your past allegiance. Will you join me?”

Clicko walked forward and extended a hand. Kelunad raised his.

“Sike!” he hollered, as his stave once again shot for Kelunad’s shoulder.

However, this time the orc caught it.

“Hmmm. Not an artifact, indeed. But linked to your magic. Suffused.”

Clicko tried to yank it back and after losing the tug of war with Kelunad, transformed his stave. The end that Kelnad was grasping turned to spikes. Blades. It even turned half-liquid. But the orc held on.

“Did you truly think that your little weapon could pierce my sin without me allowing it?”

“No.” Clicko strained. “Not really.”

“Liar.” He said. “|Steel Grasp|. |Perpetual Fracture|.”

The stave… shattered. The recoil of it sent Clicko on his behind, his hands now only holding the end of a rather broken apart handle.

“Shit. Hey Narg, catch!” he said, throwing it his way.

Somehow, for some maddening reason, that piece of splintered wood passed through all of their wards like they weren’t even there. Narh fumbled, but caught you.

“May it be a better weapon for you, than it has been for me.” The monkey-man bowed.

And turned, somewhat self-consciously to his colleagues.

“Uhm… I may need some back-up this time.”

The fighting turned ugly only moments later. Kelunad didn’t try to go through the first set of wards right at first. He took his time to methodically lay a beating on all the mages confronting him. It bought them time… but not much else.

Clicko was a nightmare to fight. Spells curved around him, launching off in different directions or even rebounding. At that was fore the Spells that Kelunad cast. The ones shot off by the other Ascentionalists were always on mark, splashing on shields if not skin, but never missing.

The monkey man himself was a danger. He acted as a battlefield force-multiplier, true, but he himself was no easy fighter. He kept Kelunad occupied, while the others fired from range. Each step he took carried him around the orc, always in the wrong place for Kelunad to hit. Each Spell he cast slowed he orc down. By this time, Kelunad had either activated Skills or Spells, because nothing hurt him. But he couldn’t hurt Clicko either.

But that doesn’t hold true for the others.

Which was readily apparent. Even with Clicko delaying him, the orc put the other mages down, one by one. He blurred and in an instant he was there, too fast for Clicko to snare. One punch. One Spell. One swing of the sword was enough. One by one the other mages fell, until only Clicko remained.

Should have made the outer wards cast-through. Would have decreased their effectiveness, but he’ll still smash through them.

“It is time for our final fight, Mage Clicko.”

The monkey-man perred at him, angling his head. Looking thoughtful.

“Nah.” He finally said. “I’m done. See ya!”

And two-stepped his away out of the chamber.

…what.

“CLICKO!” Nath bellowed.

“Your own mages abandon you. See what it means to be an Ascentionalist?” the orc asked, turning to them. “I will offer a final chance to those who wish to abandon this futile request by a geriatric demented elf. What say you?”

That was the wring thing to say. The were scared and rightfully saw. But Regitris was still beloved in his faction, though they knew him now to be weaker. Narh exhaled.

“We say no.” Narh shouted.

Could have picked a better response.

“And where is your leader?”

“I’m afraid that is faction-only information.” The centaur grinned, with courage he didn’t feel.

“…very well.”

The wards that were supposed to hamper him… didn’t. He barely lost stride. The mages that had started to open fire on him, prepared to keep on the onslaught for minutes found that they had to use their best Skills and Spells right away.

“|Maxed Potency|, |Infuse Area|, |Fiery Gale|!”

“|Floor of Snares|, |Restraining Vines|, |Increased Density: Air|.”

“|Piercing Shot|, |Teleporting Arrow|, |Mark Target|, |Splinter|!”

“|Fire Jet|, |Acid Orb Volley|, |Lighting Barrage|!”

And more. Many more. But Kelunad still put them down, as he had with the mages from before. He didn’t manage to do it without taking wounds in turn. His personal wards were now visible and glowing, but even though none of the mages were Regitris, they had numbers on their side.

And look how little that matters.

It lasted perhaps less than ten minutes. Seconds. An hour? But the orc finally |Condensed Fireballed| the last fighting mage and turned to look at the last defenders, standing behind the inner set of wards.

He was slightly fuming, his skin charred in places and burned in others. Blood was dripping from multiple poisoned wounds, refusing to close. Yet his expression was of one who was slightly miffed at best. Unconcerned, but with the excessive time spent on a rather boring task.

“I believe there is no need to ask you for surrender, correct?” he asked.

“None.” Narh snarled.

The centaur wished he could have said it was a worthy fight. He truly did. But it wasn’t.

All they did was that they managed to force the orc to use some of his better Skills. Those that couldn’t so quickly be used again. They still lost, though. The best mages of the Ascentionalists lay broken and bloody on the stone floor. The magical remnants of the smashed wards still made Narh’s hair stand up. And he still stood there, protecting the amulet.

Knowing it was all futile.

“It does not bring me any pleasure to hurt you, Mage Narh, despite what you may think. Nor the others. Please move.”

Narh wanted to shout his defiance and a shielding Spell at the same time, but a voice interrupted him.

“Funny. Because it makes me very happy to hurt you.”

Kelunad flinched… and froze. His body locked up.

A man raised himself from his shadows. A monkey-man.

“Funny thing about dimensional magic, you don’t really affect yourself. Just the space around you. Enough that say, a shadow can contain enough space to host someone like me.” Clicko grinned.

“F- Fu… tile.”

Clicko lost his humor again.

“Narh, strike him. He’s resisting him.”

“|Fire Jet|!” Nah cast, quickly seizing the moment.

“Not with magic, you idiot!” Clicko screamed. “I’m in his shadow, you’re burning me too!”

That was true, Narh realized after a moment. The Clicko that he was seeing… was just a projection. The real Clicko was still inside Kelunad’s shadow. Compressed enough that he was no longer bound by three dimensions. Only two.

“The stave, you fat centaur!” Clicko screamed, waking Narh from his second of indecision. “Hit him with the stave!”

“P- pests!”

Narh rallied. He grabbed the end of the broken stave and raised it above his head like a hammer of giants. But it would have never worked out. Kelunad may have been immobilized. Physically and magically both. But he still had his Skills.

“|I Cut|” he forcefully spoke.

And the last remnant of Clicko’s stave broke apart, showering Narh with shards.

Oh…

“…shit.”

“Re… lease… me. Ape.”

The orc was still struggling, but he was now starting to move, albeit glacially. It wouldn’t be long before he broke free.

“Damn it. Damn…. Narh. I’ll keep your secret, if you keep mine, got it?”

“What?” the centaur asked, disoriented by the nerves and language both.

Clicko just grimaced.

“Ugh! Just- just bite him, alright?”

Even Kelunad seemed to freeze after hearing that.

“Bite… him?”

“Yeah. Bite him. Doesn’t he look tasty?”

Narh looked at him, uncomprehending.

“Bite and swallow!” Clicko said, grimacing from the effort.

…why?

Narh looked at Kelunad. The wounded orc. Restrained with difficulty by Clicko.

The wounded orc.

Wounded.

Oh. Oooooooh!

“|Razor Teeth|, |Improved Musculature|.” Narh said, pointing his wand at his face.

Before leaning forward at taking a chomp from Kelunad’s shoulder.

The orc stared at him, dumbfounded. Not at Narh being able to pierce his skin with two measly Spell. But at the act himself. And Narh? Narh finally caught on to what Clicko had been eluding at.

‘Not an artifact’.

No, it wasn’t. But Kelunad was right, that stave was completely attuned to Clicko’s magic. It was able to change shape with only the slightest pulse of magic. Each and every part of it. Narh couldn’t cast it, but then again, he didn’t need to. He just needed to pulse magic into the remaining end of it. Maybe not even that. Maybe physical contact was enough.

The bad part was that remaining piece was now gone.

The good part? The magic in the object was Clocko’s. And Clicko was right here, only he was busy at the moment, holding Kelunad off from beating them both half to death. But is someone where to take the that burden away from him?

Yes, Narh was fat. And physically unimposing. Lacking enough advanced magic to increase his power to a level enough to hold Kelunad back. But guess what?

He was a |Gourmand|.

One of his Skills was |Just a morsel|. It allowed him to take a little from anything that could be considered food. Even living food, though he had no idea why the Skill worked this way. He covered it by using a couple of weak |Spells|. But the second Skill? There’d be no covering it up.

Probably. I’ll think of a lie later. Maybe ask Clicko to help me.

|You Are What You Eat|.

His body changed. His muscles rippled. He knew for a fact that his skin was now green and leathery. Not the most appealing look, but it would have to do. Narh shot forward and bear-hugged Kelunad. Clicko let go the very next second and Kelunad felt like he was trying to restrain a rabid stone giant.

But he held on. This Skill worked on a lot of things. Metals, rocks, even potions. But it worked best on dishes. From what animal he consumed, magical or not, he borrowed strength and abilities. The disturbing thing was… even though he had no idea his Skill could be used on a person, he could feel borrowing more than Kelunad’s racial strength. The power he felt… that could have only come from passive Skills.

Time for that later, though.

The orc’s eyes were red. He was thrashing and a Spell was on his lips. But he never got the chance to speak it. Clicko stood, the real Clicko this time and his hand was touching the orc.

“Got ya.”

An explosion of spikes ripped through Kelunad, shooting outwards and the spray of blood was forceful enough to knock both mages back.

The orc… sank.