On the boats it was all oars out, everyone making as much headway as they could. James was laughing, using his massive blade as a paddle. An extra dwarf manned the oar opposite James to make sure the ship still went straight. If it wasn’t for the fact that they had narrowly escape with their lives and that several of them needed medical attention, then Azrael might have even found it funny. As it was, he simply felt tired. Tired and frustrated. His night had been cut short, they’d had to run from a fight and worst of all the one thing he’d relied on as a trump card, as an ace in the hole as a final finisher – his magic – had barely been more effective than his dagger. He’d thought that he’d been strong, but where James had been mowing them down with a smile by the dozens, he’d needed several shots to take one down. Rationally he knew that it wasn’t that he was weak, but that it was a bad matchup. It still didn’t make the sting to his pride any better. The fact that he should have… could have detected the problem beforehand made it worse.

He sat down on the deck, giving himself a few moments to calm down, before actively focusing on drawing in the mana through [Meditation]. He pulled in all his other sense, trusting the others to rouse him should they face sudden danger, and let them expand back out – focusing solely on the mana around him. Relying purely on his [Mana Sense], he felt the world around him. It was in the air, in the water and in the leaves and trucks of the trees where his [Mana Sense] touched them either side of the river.

Amongst this diffusion of mana there were eight stars, where mana gathered. Amongst them James was by far the brightest. Azrael ignored them, instead focusing on breathing in the mana round him, drawing it in from the air. He pulled it, gathered it, and funnelled it into his core. There it settled, slowly filling up his reserves.

He didn’t let it stay there long though, instead letting it flow through him again when he had gathered enough. He cast [Search], letting the net of mana expand outwards. Where it touched other mana it deformed, bouncing away, defracted, deflected or broken.

He accepted it as it returned, building a picture of the world around him. Again he gathered mana, drawing back the metaphorical line, before casting again and again and again. Repeatedly he’d cast [Search], letting it expand further with every cast, refining the threads of mana that made up the spell and everytime gaining greater distance and clarity.

He felt something twinge at the edge of his consciousness, but it wasn’t due to [Search] so he let it go. Instead he repeatedly cast and refined the Skill, confirming that there were no skeletons chasing them or other midnight horrors ready to ambush them. He’d failed to make use of his skillset once. He wouldn’t repeat that mistake again, at least not tonight.

“Stop”

Azrael broke two hours’ worth of silence as [Search] finally picked up something suspicious. Only briefly had they stopped rowing to bandage wounds, but otherwise they had continued on. This was the fourth hour since they had escaped the skeletons. Barely anyone had spoken during their brief rest breaks, still high strung from the ambush.

Now, as he spoke, everyone was immediately on high alert, oars drawn in and swapped out for weapons. There was only the sound of the water lapping on their hull as it quietly carried them downriver. Azrael himself kept his eyes closed, having enough mana to cast a [Search] with [Overcharge]. He never reached that point, before there was a surprised cry from the boat ahead, one of the villagers scrabbling at his face with suddenly bloodied and lacerated fingers.

In the time it had taken Azrael to open his eyes James had already leapt across the gap between the two wooden boats, narrowly preventing himself from capsizing the smaller craft. The blade came down slashing at the invisible enemy with his blade. The grown man fell to the bottom of the boat clutching his face and sobbing.

James raised his blade into the night and spoke solemly as if issuing a declaration.

“There is no hope, no light, no life. The end has come.”

He breathed out, letting ghostly veils drift from his mouth as his outstretched weapon glowed with a ghostly chill. Azrael felt mana flow and take shape.

“[Touch of Frost]”

Like watching a timelapse, silver lines of ice spread out from the point of the point of James’ sword Those lines become a dozen, two dozen, one hundred and more, until they covered the entire region spanning the river between the trees.

Azrael let out [Search], deciding to not [Overcharge] the spell in favor of a faster cast time. It was then that he realised that it wasn’t a hundred lines of ice that emanated from the sword, but a layer of frost that had spread to cover a hundred hidden threads. He called out the real threat to the others, even as he heard the enraged scurrying of hundreds of chitinous legs.

“SPIDERS!”

It seemed he had encountered some old acquaintances. He’d had to run from one fight already tonight and he was itching for something to take his frustration out on. It helped that he’d managed to replenish almost half of his mana. Igniting his trusty [Fire Bullet] he fired the first shot.