Lightning blasted from the sky, striking the rooftops and shattering clay tiles again and again, but the shrouded Sworn dodged them all. They were powerful, but nowhere near as strong as the one that had demolished their hiding place. The monster has control of the Storm Ward too? How? Mikhail slipped over the tiles, the coating of oil Mana on his boots allowing him to glide as if on ice. Another bolt of lightning arced downward, but it found only empty architecture. Rellest, you bastard! You held out on me! The Kindred held only the loosest of presences in Ahkestria, but Mikhail had been contracted by some nervous, hand-wringing nobles to track down and kill whomever this Autarch chose as Chancellor. The trick was to do it before anyone got invested with any Authority. It was unknown how much the Autarch controlled, just that he had somehow defeated the Grandmaster for it and claimed the Territory. Likely by some trickery, instead of strength. He wasn't the one that destroyed the Urge and the entire council of Masters. From all the intel Mikhail gathered, the Autarch hadn't even been around. Still, if Mikhail struck too late, after the Chancellor was invested, there was no guarantee of completion. The protection from the Authority, especially here where the Seat was undoubtedly located, would fuck it all up. The poisoned blade had been his solution, thrust from the shadows. The Autarch, for all his supposed power, hadn't been able to see through his Shroud, so following the man had been a simple matter. Then he'd led Mikhail right to the new Chancellor-to-be. It had been perfect. The throw was precise and powerful—it should have slipped by the Autarch's notice and punched right through that Yttin's throat. Mikhail hissed in pain as another bolt of lightning careened into him, rolling from the blast and trailing tendrils of his disrupted Shroud. Yyero's ass! The bolt had charred the outside of his left arm. This cursed storm! That the Autarch had stopped Mikhail's blade was one thing, but then he and his nasty little Chimera chased down and caught his Mannequin? That was concerning. He'd had to detonate it prematurely, but even that hadn't been enough to harm the man. But this? Authority claimed and the storm being wielded as he caught Mikhail's Master Tier arrows? The man was strong. Powerful. So Mikhail ran. The enormous greatbow in his hands was dragging him down, despite his Master Tier Body, but the Sworn was loathe to give it up. He aimed another shot on the run, funneling Mana through his palms and into the greatbow as an arrow made of shadow and poison formed on the string. He released, but didn't stop to see if it hit. His aim was perfect...the true problem was this Autarch's defensive abilities. Get off of me! Mikhail swiped at the flame above his head, but only got burned for his efforts. It refused to dissipate, following after him like a loyal dire hound, marking his position for all and sundry. As one of the Sworn, Mikhail had a number of ways to escape such tracking magics, but none of them were pleasant or easily performed. He sent a pulse of Will and Intent along his active Skills. Get off the roof. Rush the target! Mikhail felt the Mannequins move, firing one last shot at the Yttin shaman before half of them leaped down into the chaos of the crowd. Lightning chased after them all, but Mikhail couldn't worry about their well-being. They would be expensive and time consuming to replace, but what he needed now was a distraction. He— A chain lashed onto his path, writhing up and into the Sworn's face. Mikhail dipped and twisted, popping under and up into an aerial somersault while bringing his greatbow to bear. He fired, but an axe of silver deflected his conjured arrow into a nearby chimney, which burst and collapsed under the impact. "Damn, ya have some muscle in all that dark, eh?" A gruff voice spoke up from within a bulky set of armor, complete with a strange, elongated helmet. "Almost tore my axe outta my hand." "Watch him, Harn," said a second figure, the one with the chain idly spinning in her hand. She looked the flexible sort, someone Mikhail would normally steer clear of; his powerset was best against slower enemies. Except...one of them barely had her feet in Adept Tier, and the other was freshly minted. Mikhail could practically smell the Essence Draught on his breath. "You think you two are enough?" Mikhail asked, letting his Shroud distort the waves of his voice. It came out thick and deep enough to kick up the loose stones on the rooftop. He threw down his greatbow. "I am a High Adept. You cannot harm me." The Sworn didn't wait for them to reply, but burst into motion. His blade, Whisper, leaped to hand and lashed out just in time to meet the wave of silver fire from the armored goon. Mikhail surged through them, Whisper slashing and tearing the flames to shreds, before meeting the warrior with a powerful thrust knee. It took him in the chest and hurled the warrior onto his ass, prone and unable to defend against Whisper's whirling thrust. CLANG! Blade met chain—no, a shield formed of chains. Perception burning, Mikhail skipped backward just as the shield burst into a series of bladed tendrils...but couldn't avoid them all. Two latched onto his sword and arm, tangling with his Shroud and pressing hard into his lacquered armor. "Ah ah," the girl said, wagging her finger at him. "We dance first, yeah?" "Fine, child." Mikhail spat the words and flared his Shroud. The threads of shadow Mana thickened and slickened, prising apart the jagged chains and slipping his arm and blade free. The chains whirled backward, returning to the floating shield. "You may die first." Murk Transposition! Beneath their feet, shadows oozed from the clay tiles, crawling onto one another until they'd formed a simulacra of a man. A Mannequin. Three of them, in fact, all of a size with the Sworn and possessing a large portion of his stats. He grinned, though the soon-to-be-corpses before him couldn't see it. He'd always enjoyed this part. "Focus on the brute. I'll handle the girl." Beef kicked a Paladin's chest in, relishing the crunch and clatter of their armor on the ground. "Eat it, nerd!" You Have Killed A Paladin Of The Pathless! XP Earned! Awesome. Just a few more and I'll level up again too. Beef surveyed the battle, an easy task at his seven foot height, but all he saw was chaos. About forty Paladins had formed up in the square, holding shields sparkling with golden radiance and long spears of hardened light. Around them were the black-cloaked Claw members and a few of the blue-cloaked Yttin warriors, all of them engaged with the Paladins. Magic burst and exploded, Stamina Skills flared and weapons were brandished. All while the nobles and commoners alike were pressing themselves into the edges of the square, probably hoping no one killed them with a stray Skill. Damn. Gotta end this. Can't have them get hurt because of these jerks. Beef firmed up his grip on his great maul and swung it. The necrotic, blackened green light flared as it bashed another Paladin into the flagstones. "Didn't think I saw you, huh?" Beef said to the struggling warrior zealot as he walked past them. "I got eyes in the back of my...back. Hallow!" A series of razor-sharp crystal darts fired from his lower back, taking the Paladin across the face and neck. Your Homunculus Has Killed A Paladin Of The Pathless! XP Earned! "Wow, good aim," he said over his shoulder. Hallow's strange, rocky form tightened against Beef's midsection before releasing itself with a heavy jolt. "Oof, you're still so hefty." "I am made of stone and crystal, Michael," Hallow's feminine voice echoed back at him as she landed. "Watch out. The commoners are in danger." "What? Oh shit!" Ahead, two Paladin Adept Tiers unleashed streamers of glittering fire onto the crowd. Beef charged, bashing through a few unfortunate nobles on his way, but pulled on his limited Mana all the while. "Chitin Construction!" A shield of insectile armor formed from nothing, big enough to cover Beef's entire Body, and he interposed himself into the flames. The fight was turning, and the Paladins were attempting to run. "Ruak tu falla!" a mammoth voice screamed, and Beef laughed. "Warriors! Shields!" Six Frost Giants, each twice his height or more, stepped out of the fray and planted themselves in the way of the Paladin Adepts. Ice Mana swelled and crackled across the ground, racing toward the Pathless zealots. Their flames guttered out, and several screamed in sudden, frostbitten pain. "Levianthan bone shields?" Beef said to the giant nearest him. "Impressive!" "Made by Commander Harn himself," said the giant, and he unsheathed a huge, bone-crafted warhammer. "Aw that's so sick," Beef muttered. He wasn't jealous. He could make his own stuff anyway. "Let's bring the pain!" "Advance!" shouted another giant warrior, and they moved forward as one. More fire and spears of light assaulted their shield wall, but they held long enough. Beef glanced behind him and noticed hundreds of commoners and nobles had flooded into their shadow, huddling in the safe zone created by their shields. Many were wide-eyed with fear, and only a few had any wounds, but they caught Beef's eye like a magnet. "Hallow?" "Yes, Michael?" "I want you to try the barrage thing." Another blast of fire made him grunt and stagger, the entire shield line buckling slightly. "Now, please!" "Of course." His Spirit friend rolled forward, forming into a segmented ball of course rock and smooth crystal small enough to slip between their shields. She popped up, just on the other side. "Firing now. Silicate Barrage." Screams sounded, followed by a sudden slackening of attacks. A notification window popped into Beef's view. Your Homunculus Has Killed A Paladin Of The Pathless (x12)! XP Earned! Your Homunculus Has Gained 3 Levels! +21 Endurance +15 Strength +12 Vitality "Oh I love this!" Beef shouted in glee, and threw his back into his advance. The giant's took up the charge. "Flatten 'em!" "Hah!" Mikhail huffed an annoyed breath. "You're quite fast, girl." "You're just slow," she shot back, though her face was a mess of cuts and blood. The girl had put on quite the show already, but now she was limping and nursing at least two broken ribs. He stood there, assessing as she followed her attack up with another blast of icy chains. They tried and failed to catch onto his Shroud. "Tch. Your cloak is cheatin', assassin." "Tactical advantage, child." Mikhail blurred forward, his flexible blade bending around the girl's shield of chains. The thing tried to latch onto him again, but he'd learned the timing of it. The Sworn produced an final burst of speed, and felt his Whisper blade catch flesh. He twisted. "Ahh!" she cried out, and fell. Across the roof, his Mannequins piled onto the armored warrior, holding his arms down despite the blaze of his silver flame. "Evie!" he shouted. "Worry for yourself," Mikhail hissed through his nearest Mannequin, and manifested Whisper in its hand. He thrust, cracking a hole in the man's armor. Handling them in two separate fights was a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. He pulled back— "Ragh!" the Sworn shouted, as a shard of ice plunged into his face. It couldn't break his skin, couldn't even bruise him, but the sheer wretched cold was enough to break his concentration. "You petulant infant!" "Descent of the Bestial Barbarian! Withering Raze!" The armored warrior erupted with sudden potency, breaking through the weakened grip of his distracted Mannequins. In seconds, one of them were bisected by a blazing silver axe, and another had lost its arm. "Seems like you're falterin' there, assassin," the girl said from behind not one, but three floating shields. She could barely stand, but her primary weapon whirled in the air above her, a stinger waiting to strike. "I thought you were almost Master Tier?" "Fine. Neither of you were my target, and I was going easy on you. Enough of that. I will show you the meaning of pai—" Mikhail's words died away as his gaze was drawn up. Up into the sky where the thunderous clouds were joined by a terrifying new appearance. A towering wave the size and approximate mass of the entire city had reared into the sky. It rose, higher and higher, until it seemed to touch the clouds and spark a raging tempest of lightning through its expanse. Mikhail's heart was clenched by the twin jaws of disbelief...and terror. The wave hung there, partially curled over itself like a threat. A deadly promise. "Stand down." The words shook the air, quaking it and tearing away even the constant rain from the sky. Everything went silent, and the Sworn tore his gaze away from the impending disaster and glanced down at the Temple doors. There, the Autarch stood with a single arm upraised holding a scepter that scintillated with streamers of Mana. As if he had captured the sun and held it, in the palm of his hand. This isn't Authority, he thought. His Mind was struggling to comprehend the sheer scope of Mana on display. To control such volume of water would beggar entire Territories! What is this? What is this! "Stand down," he said again. His face was calm, but his eyes burned brighter than the artifact in his hands. The words shook dust and debris from the rafters and archways, even knocking a few weaker individuals to their knees. The man's Spirit joined in the effort, and even Mikhail felt his knees weaken. "I hold Authority over this Territory, and it is absolute. Stand down or all of it is over. I, for one, do not need two Territories." He's bluffing, Mikhail determined. He has to be. He'd never— Click. A cold void opened up in the Sworn's chest just as he felt the equally cold metal of an elision collar around his neck. He gasped, seizing as his core space rebelled against the confinement, while his Aspects recoiled from the vile inscription in the collar. His Mind and Body quailed, and this time he truly fell to his knees. No! "Night night, asshole," the girl growled, before her heavy chain-shield crashed into his face. The fighting had stopped, but Felix was so damn pissed. In his hand, the Scepter of the Tides hummed like his old sedan when he'd pushed it past ninety miles per hour. It was hot from the strain of holding the massive wave, and Felix felt just about scraped raw. It had taken every ounce of his Mana to conjure the thing, and thankfully the Scepter acted as a massive focus, enhancing the effect or else the threat wouldn't have worked at all. The Paladins were hemmed in, many of them dead, but not all. Above the square, on the rooftops, Harn gave him handsign confirming the Sworn had been caught as well. Felix had figured as much, since the assassin's strange shadow duplicates had all burst into nothing seconds prior. They had done it. Yet as Felix's eyes drifted over the square, as he noticed more than a few dead bodies of innocent bystanders, he felt rage kindle in his chest. Blood was still dripping from his claws as he shifted his stance and his burning glare onto those nobles and commoners still alive. He felt dire emotions echo in their Spirits, but Felix was past caring. The scepter dimmed, and the wave receded from view...but none of their memories, as he'd hoped. The nobles he saw were alternating looks at Felix and the sky in equal horror. He raised his hands, gesturing for silence and it fell like an executioner's axe. Someone started sobbing. "I take attempts on my peoples' lives as deadly serious," he said into the quiet. The rain resumed, and its soft pitter-patter was the only other sound. "I will not suffer a threat to live. I can guess why, I can guess who, but I don't need to do that. Because I will find out. And all those responsible will learn that there are a great many things worse than death." Felix gestured, and the doors to the Temple opened once again. Zara, accompanied by a ring of Yttin guards, escorted the shaman back to Felix's side. They were all on edge, the shaman most of all. "Under my Authority, I name you Chancellor, and gift to you the estate of the former Grandmaster Kel'lyv. Do you accept?" "I-I do, my Lord." A notification popped into Felix's view, confirming his selection, and acknowledged it and moved on. No murmurs echoed from the crowd now, but Felix paid them no mind. "I grant you use of these artifacts, the Raiment of the royal line of Ahkestria, a gift that you yourself bestowed upon me. The Crown of Sea and Stone, which will grant you greater Authority over this Territory in my name." He placed the crown of intertwined coral and water crystals atop Klzix head and watched as the Yttin's copper eyes ignited with a sudden understanding. Felix pulled a crystalline orb from his side pouch, and proffered it as well. "I give you the Orb of Plenty, to increase your Authority over that which dwells beneath the waves of your Territory. And I give you the Scepter of the Tides," he said, and this time the crowd gasped, much as Felix had hoped. The artifact that had just commanded a mountainous wave, that threatened the entire city, was handed over to another. Just like that. "With which the very seas will be at your command." "Thank you, my Lord. I will guard these treasures with my life," his new Chancellor said. "You will use them," Felix corrected, and made sure his words were loud enough that everyone could hear. Again the air rippled with the force of his voice, though he kept it to a low roar. "As Chancellor, you will use these artifacts to keep this Territory safe. For everyone." "Yes, my Lord," Klzix said, before dropping to a single knee in the way his soldier had started doing. Felix smiled, but it was forced. "Stand up, and face them," he instructed the shaman before turning one last time to the crowd. Klzix at his side, he surveyed them all. The commoners were bundles of cautious excitement, while the nobles looked on with fixed smiles and more than a few sodden brows. "People of Ahkestria! Welcome your new Chancellor, Earl Klzix, Shaman of the Yttin and my right hand in Ahkestria and the entire Leviathan Depths!" The cheer was half-hearted, but it was enough. Felix released his hold on the Storm Ward, and let deafening thunder roll as rain poured down from above. It was done.