TERMINAL WOUND

Damage dealt increased by 1000%

Purple rectangles popped up throughout the sky like fireworks. The crude flying humanoids exploded in a cluster of magic threads before getting consumed by those unaffected. It was obvious to all that every attack only made the enemies stronger, and at the same time they had no choice—the waves had to be thinned if there were to have a chance.

From everything Dallion had read about natural vortexes, as well as his personal experience, the initial wave was crude, relying on quantity. In the past, that had proved enough to kill off any creature, mages included, foolish enough to find its way inside. Supposedly, the nymphs had been the first to venture inside one and remain alive. The scant pieces of information available in the archmage’s library suggested that none other than the Star—the original Star—had shared the method of vortex consumption.

“You’re leaving too many gaps,” Adzorg said.

Before Dallion could provide an explanation, a burst of ice spears flew from behind him, aimed at part of the targets that he missed. Unfortunately, that seemed to have an opposite effect than what was expected.

MAGIC ABSORBED

AETHURCULUS had grown 2 levels.

A cluster of new purple rectangles emerged.

“That, dear girl, is precisely why we don’t act on our own,” Adzorg said with the calm and annoyance of a teacher who’d just witnessed a mini science class explosion. “Unless we are certain something is effective, we don’t use it in large numbers. I thought I had taught you better.”

“He does it all the time?” the fury protested.

“Dal is a reckless otherworlder who started out with massive gaps in training and general logic. Do you really want to compare yourself to him?”

“Di, get my shield,” Dallion said, waving his sword along the figure eight.

A trail of spell-circles appeared. All of them launched aether projectiles at the entities that Diroh had made stronger. The attack was enough to drill some of them full of holes, causing them to gradually receive enough damage to unravel. Unfortunately, that didn’t prove enough. By the time he did another spark infused line slash, several of the beings had managed to counter it.

“Di!” Dallion yelled, glancing at her with one of her instances.

Several threads of air reached him, removing the shield from his back and pulling it towards the fury.

“Ruby, you too,” Dallion whispered. “Keep her safe.”

“Remember, dear boy, this is the opposite of an awakening trial,” Adzorg said. “They have to kill you.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me,” Dallion tightened his grip round the harpsisword’s hilt.

“Trust me on this. It was my main field of research.”

And the reason we’re in this mess, Dallion added mentally.

“All we need is to survive this. Once we do, there’ll be an opening.”

The closer the waves got, the faster they became. In his mind, Dallion could see that line and point attacks would no longer be able to do anything. In a best-case scenario, he would destroy a few hundred more before the group was completely surrounded. He could try a multi point attack, or a spark infused music attack, but Harp had warned against it and in this case, he was inclined to agree.

Thick layers of ice emerged, serving as a protective wall for Diroh and the old mage. Held by threads of natural magic, in the real world, they would have stopped a great number of ranged attacks. Here, they merely provided a little more time.

Magic symbols appeared on the blue matter, then were quickly covered by another thick layer of ice.

“Better,” Adzorg said. “Natural magic is easily consumed by vortexes. So, be sure to cover it with spell patterns to make it efficient.”

“Any advice for me?” Dallion asked as he covered his body with a second layer of magic threads. A cluster of mixture threads emerged from the tip of his aura sword as he waved it about, creating his own blend of magic absorption. If he had more time, maybe he could make a sort of absorption dynamo that grew stronger the more it absorbed.

“You’re already on the right track,” Adzorg said in approval, causing the fury and several dozens of Dallion’s instances to stare at him in surprise. “Are you good at spell copying?”

“Yeah.” Desuite all the confidence, there was a hint of doubt in Dallion’s voice. He knew the theory, but in reality, he had only been able to copy the spell of one rogue mage he had been chasing after.

“I’ll do a fake cast,” the old mage said, rubbing his hands. “Observe and follow.”

“What the hell is a fake cast?”

The mage’s fingers danced in the air. They were fast and at the same time deliberately slow enough for Dallion to follow. There were no fake symbols or anti-copy measures that would prevent anyone from learning the actual spell; in fact, there were no magic threads at all, for that matter. All were movements that only a mage could appreciate.

You no longer have the magic, Dallion thought. Having a large part of his artifacts destroyed had brought him back to his usual level. Judging by the faint glow of magic within Adzorg, Dallion suspected that the old man’s trait was limited to ten at most.

“Are you keeping up?” the mage asked.

“Naturally,” Dallion replied, even if only a fifth of his instances were. Mimicking the motions was the easy part. Copying the magic thread intensity, that was a whole different story. Concentrating on the old man’s fingertips let him see only the faintest of glows—more like a hint of what had to be done.

The composition of the spell was strange and magnificent. Out of the hundreds of symbols, Dallion recognized about half. And to think that was without any of Adzorg’s countermeasures. Thread by thread, a twelve-circle spell formed, then another linked to it until an entire sphere of magic was in the air.

“You’re having me do mage spells?” Dallion asked. “Should I be flattered?”

“Flattered by the fact that I don’t think you’re completely incompetent. If you weren’t able to copy something, then we might as well just give up now and let the vortex consume us.”

A blob of anger appeared behind Adzorg’s left eye.

The final symbol in place, the sphere contracted into a marble of magic. In one of his instances, Dallion grabbed hold. In several more, he let it fall to the ground. The latter proved to be a mistake. The marble kept on falling. Upon hitting the ever-changing terrain, it pulled all the threads in a ten-foot radius, consuming them like a black hole of magic.

Dallion would have loved to see more, but the length of his combat splitting remained limited.

“Why doesn’t it consume me?” he asked, switching to the instance that held the marble.

“It doesn’t harm the magic of the one who created it,” Adzorg replied. “Needless to say, you’re to be careful when using it with others around and never use it outside a vortex.”

Great, Dallion thought. I’m already cursed, and he’s teaching me spells to get me in more trouble with the Moons.

“You really don’t want me to get rid of my curse, do you?” Using his athletic and combat skills, he threw the marble in the thickest part of the attacking rows.

“Normally I wouldn’t, but vortexes aren’t considered part of the world. Here, there’s a whole range of spells you can use. And I happen to be one of the few that can teach you.”

Now a lot of things became clear. Dallion had often wondered why the former archmage was regarded with such reverence. The battle mages were stronger when it came to fighting, with destructive spells that could burn through mountains, while Adzorg was merely exceptional at realm modifications. The truth was that realm modification didn’t only mean creation, but destruction as well. It was like having close to unlimited power in a very narrow range of cases. Right here, right now, the laws of the Moons didn’t apply, leaving him to take full advantage.

“Deed assistance for a second one?” the old mage asked with a note of bride as the marble ate through the rows of aether entities. Some—those who had gained a few levels thanks to Diroh—attempted to take it on with their own set of spells, only to be consumed in the process.

“No,” Dallion replied. “I think I got it.”

“Were you able to make any of that out, dear girl?” Adzorg turned to the fury.

“Part.” The faint cluster of blobs within her suggested she was lying. “I don’t know most of the symbols.”

“I’d be surprised if you could. Even with a prodigy helping you out, you’ll need decades of experience to learn the minimal amount required to unravel what I’ve achieved. Keep observing, though. This whole experience will be far more beneficial to you than anything the Academy has to offer.”

“I don’t have the magic trait, as everyone keeps telling me.” Diroh frowned.

“Dear girl,” the mage smiled widely. “While in a vortex, you don’t need to.”

Three more pearls of destruction were launched at the incoming waves before the vortex decided to change tactics. Aware that they no longer could win through numbers alone, the entities switched to range attacks.

Bolts, beams, and projectiles washed over the ice layers of protection, dissolving them in places like acid would eat through paper.

“Move back!” Dallion shouted, trying to take out the enemy casters as quickly as possible. However, it was Adzorg who stepped in, patching up the holes with a new type of spell.

“You might want to learn this one too, dear boy,” he said.

“Already ahead of you!” Two of Dallion’s instances were constantly observing the man at all times, one even attempting to copy the casting before the splitting time ended.

The intensity of the fight increased. Gritting his teeth, Dallion went back to doing line attacks while simultaneously casting Adzorg’s attack spell. Ten of his instances continuously attempted to get the spell done through the aura sword. However, the complexity was more than he could handle.

“Don’t play around,” Adzrog grumbled. “What did I tell you about distractions? There will be a time to be creative. Focus on what’s important.”

“Everything is important.”

“Yes, but you can’t see everything yet, just a medium-sized part of it all.”

“We won’t make it the way we’re going.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“Old man, I have a mind trait of eighty and I’m telling you, we won’t make it! If you have another spell to teach me, better do it now!”

There was no answer.

“I’m going to survive this,” Dallion shouted. “But I won’t be able to save you two.”

Reluctance was visible, blossoming throughout Adzorg’s body. Thanks to his music skill, Dallion could see it as bright as day. The mage had something in mind, but it was a secret he didn’t want to share even now.

“Give me some of your magic,” he said.

“What?”

“There’s no time to teach you this one. I can do it using your magic. You’ll have to trust me, though.”

Trust him. Nil had asked him the same thing during his time at the Learning Hall. Things hadn’t turned out well back then, leading to the war and chaos that was engulfing the world. Was it safe to trust him now? Harp was against it. The nymph guardian hadn’t said much since they had entered the vortex, but she was clear on the matter.

A large crack formed through one of the ice sheets. Diroh cast a new one underneath in an attempt to patch things up, but it was obvious to everyone that it wouldn’t hold for long. Dallion had to make his decision now.

I hope I don’t regret this. He pointed his aura sword at Adzorg. The entire blade turned purple as a cluster of magic threads shot from its tip right at the old man.

Everything was in the mage’s hands now.