Chapter 332: Smoked
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Chapter 332: Smoked
Smoked
Martel's training took over, and he launched a fire bolt at the attacking spirit flying towards them. The spell struck the shadowy mass in the chest, and the fire seemed to become absorbed by the smoke without inflicting damage.
Both mageknights kept their nerve and struck as soon as their enemy was within range. One sword slashed the creature's right arm, one hammer slammed against its left shoulder.
The weapons slowed down as they passed through, as if travelling through water. Yet as they pulled back, the creature seemed as whole as before. In that moment, Martel knew he had made a grave mistake bringing them to this place.
The creature retaliated. Its shadowy arms lashed out, solidifying long enough to slam Maximilian to the side and Eleanor backwards. Both warriors scrambled to get back on their feet; the viscount did so first. As their enemy reached out a limb again, he raised his shield in defence. Yet the arm became a tendril of smoke, wrapping itself around Maximilian's head. He fell to his knees, gasping without sound. Horrified, Martel realised that the creature was choking his friend to death.
He released a ray of fire, keeping it focused on the monster in the hopes that more intense flames than his first spell would work.
If it caused any hurt, Martel could not tell, but it got the creature's attention. Releasing Maximilian, its red eyes turned towards the fire acolyte and it began hovering towards him.
Eleanor was back on her feet, swiftly swinging her sword. It did not seem to have any effect, but nor did she strike with strength, but rather with speed, keeping the creature occupied. "Keep up your spellwork, it is our only chance!" she yelled.
Martel reached the same conclusion as her; weapons of steel would not work. But fire did not seem useful either. Hoping this monster had some weaknesses, Martel prepared an elemental bolt of water and let loose.
His spell hit, making the terrifying spirit fall back for a moment. Behind, Maximilian had recovered and once more joined in the attack, swinging his hammer wildly.
The creature riposted, once again attacking both mageknights to send them stumbling back. On the verge of panic, Martel felt a burning sensation in his pocket, and he wondered if he had been attacked by a spell. He found it difficult to think or even breathe. Enemies of flesh and blood he could handle, but how to defeat a monster like this?
The spirit approached Eleanor, its arm becoming a tendril once again. Martel could already see how it would suffocate her, and his mind cleared. As it turned out, his fear of watching Eleanor die exceeded any concern about his own mortality.
In turn, he looked down at the rune stone in his hand. He saw it was cracked, lines running through the symbols on its surface. "You remember Regnar, the hedge mage? He gave this to me for protection. I must say, it served its purpose." Though Martel had a feeling it would not do so again; its magic seemed spent. He certainly would not stake his life on it.
"Let us keep moving. I cannot wait to get back above ground," Maximilian said brusquely. He set into motion; after a moment, Eleanor and Martel followed after.
***
The journey through the tunnels felt long and uncomfortable; Martel kept glancing over his shoulder, even if his flame did not provide much light in that direction. Besides, he knew that he would feel the spirit's presence if it approached them; still, he could not help but constantly look. He only breathed easily once they climbed up the hatch and stood on the streets of Morcaster again.
"We are never doing this again," Maximilian declared.
"I do think we misjudged the situation," Eleanor acknowledged. She looked at Martel. "I am sorry. This is beyond us."
"So we tell our teachers?" Martel asked.
"No." Maximilian shook his head vigorously. "They will feel bound to inform the Inquisition, as creatures born of magical deviancy falls under their purview. And the three of us will be permanently linked to this abomination. Do you understand what that would do to my reputation?"
"But we fought the damn creature," the fire acolyte argued.
"Irrelevant. We walked around the catacombs where no decent people would ever go. You yourself said you saw necromancy down there before. And when they ask how three acolytes survived this encounter? They will assume only maleficars could have the powers to do so. And if you mention your little pebble with Tyrian runes, they will simply add that to their list of suspicions!" Maximilian looked at them both. "I am not risking my future for this, living the rest of my life under the scrutiny of the Inquisition."
"I fear he is right," Eleanor admitted. "They will never permit someone tainted by even the slightest suspicion of maleficus to become a legate. I am sorry," she repeated, turning her eyes on Martel. "You said the inquisitors already knew to search the sewers for their quarry. They must know about the catacombs as well. We can tell them nothing new."
Martel felt confident that the inquisitors had no idea of the monster that stalked the catacombs, but at the same time, he had no desire to be the one informing them. He knew the others were right; the mage hunters would only be suspicious of him as well. With a sigh, he let his shoulders drop. "Let's go home."
None of them noticed that across the street, a man dressed in a blue uniform narrowed his eyes, looking at the three young wizards leaving the alley.
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Chapter 332: Smoked
Smoked
Martel's training took over, and he launched a fire bolt at the attacking spirit flying towards them. The spell struck the shadowy mass in the chest, and the fire seemed to become absorbed by the smoke without inflicting damage.
Both mageknights kept their nerve and struck as soon as their enemy was within range. One sword slashed the creature's right arm, one hammer slammed against its left shoulder.
The weapons slowed down as they passed through, as if travelling through water. Yet as they pulled back, the creature seemed as whole as before. In that moment, Martel knew he had made a grave mistake bringing them to this place.
The creature retaliated. Its shadowy arms lashed out, solidifying long enough to slam Maximilian to the side and Eleanor backwards. Both warriors scrambled to get back on their feet; the viscount did so first. As their enemy reached out a limb again, he raised his shield in defence. Yet the arm became a tendril of smoke, wrapping itself around Maximilian's head. He fell to his knees, gasping without sound. Horrified, Martel realised that the creature was choking his friend to death.
He released a ray of fire, keeping it focused on the monster in the hopes that more intense flames than his first spell would work.
If it caused any hurt, Martel could not tell, but it got the creature's attention. Releasing Maximilian, its red eyes turned towards the fire acolyte and it began hovering towards him.
Eleanor was back on her feet, swiftly swinging her sword. It did not seem to have any effect, but nor did she strike with strength, but rather with speed, keeping the creature occupied. "Keep up your spellwork, it is our only chance!" she yelled.
Martel reached the same conclusion as her; weapons of steel would not work. But fire did not seem useful either. Hoping this monster had some weaknesses, Martel prepared an elemental bolt of water and let loose.
His spell hit, making the terrifying spirit fall back for a moment. Behind, Maximilian had recovered and once more joined in the attack, swinging his hammer wildly.
The creature riposted, once again attacking both mageknights to send them stumbling back. On the verge of panic, Martel felt a burning sensation in his pocket, and he wondered if he had been attacked by a spell. He found it difficult to think or even breathe. Enemies of flesh and blood he could handle, but how to defeat a monster like this?
The spirit approached Eleanor, its arm becoming a tendril once again. Martel could already see how it would suffocate her, and his mind cleared. As it turned out, his fear of watching Eleanor die exceeded any concern about his own mortality.
In turn, he looked down at the rune stone in his hand. He saw it was cracked, lines running through the symbols on its surface. "You remember Regnar, the hedge mage? He gave this to me for protection. I must say, it served its purpose." Though Martel had a feeling it would not do so again; its magic seemed spent. He certainly would not stake his life on it.
"Let us keep moving. I cannot wait to get back above ground," Maximilian said brusquely. He set into motion; after a moment, Eleanor and Martel followed after.
***
The journey through the tunnels felt long and uncomfortable; Martel kept glancing over his shoulder, even if his flame did not provide much light in that direction. Besides, he knew that he would feel the spirit's presence if it approached them; still, he could not help but constantly look. He only breathed easily once they climbed up the hatch and stood on the streets of Morcaster again.
"We are never doing this again," Maximilian declared.
"I do think we misjudged the situation," Eleanor acknowledged. She looked at Martel. "I am sorry. This is beyond us."
"So we tell our teachers?" Martel asked.
"No." Maximilian shook his head vigorously. "They will feel bound to inform the Inquisition, as creatures born of magical deviancy falls under their purview. And the three of us will be permanently linked to this abomination. Do you understand what that would do to my reputation?"
"But we fought the damn creature," the fire acolyte argued.
"Irrelevant. We walked around the catacombs where no decent people would ever go. You yourself said you saw necromancy down there before. And when they ask how three acolytes survived this encounter? They will assume only maleficars could have the powers to do so. And if you mention your little pebble with Tyrian runes, they will simply add that to their list of suspicions!" Maximilian looked at them both. "I am not risking my future for this, living the rest of my life under the scrutiny of the Inquisition."
"I fear he is right," Eleanor admitted. "They will never permit someone tainted by even the slightest suspicion of maleficus to become a legate. I am sorry," she repeated, turning her eyes on Martel. "You said the inquisitors already knew to search the sewers for their quarry. They must know about the catacombs as well. We can tell them nothing new."
Martel felt confident that the inquisitors had no idea of the monster that stalked the catacombs, but at the same time, he had no desire to be the one informing them. He knew the others were right; the mage hunters would only be suspicious of him as well. With a sigh, he let his shoulders drop. "Let's go home."
None of them noticed that across the street, a man dressed in a blue uniform narrowed his eyes, looking at the three young wizards leaving the alley.
Chapter 332: SmokedSmokedMartel's training took over, and he launched a fire bolt at the attacking spirit flying towards them. The spell struck the shadowy mass in the chest, and the fire seemed to become absorbed by the smoke without inflicting damage.Both mageknights kept their nerve and struck as soon as their enemy was within range. One sword slashed the creature's right arm, one hammer slammed against its left shoulder.The weapons slowed down as they passed through, as if travelling through water. Yet as they pulled back, the creature seemed as whole as before. In that moment, Martel knew he had made a grave mistake bringing them to this place.The creature retaliated. Its shadowy arms lashed out, solidifying long enough to slam Maximilian to the side and Eleanor backwards. Both warriors scrambled to get back on their feet; the viscount did so first. As their enemy reached out a limb again, he raised his shield in defence. Yet the arm became a tendril of smoke, wrapping itself around Maximilian's head. He fell to his knees, gasping without sound. Horrified, Martel realised that the creature was choking his friend to death.He released a ray of fire, keeping it focused on the monster in the hopes that more intense flames than his first spell would work.If it caused any hurt, Martel could not tell, but it got the creature's attention. Releasing Maximilian, its red eyes turned towards the fire acolyte and it began hovering towards him.Eleanor was back on her feet, swiftly swinging her sword. It did not seem to have any effect, but nor did she strike with strength, but rather with speed, keeping the creature occupied. "Keep up your spellwork, it is our only chance!" she yelled.Martel reached the same conclusion as her; weapons of steel would not work. But fire did not seem useful either. Hoping this monster had some weaknesses, Martel prepared an elemental bolt of water and let loose.His spell hit, making the terrifying spirit fall back for a moment. Behind, Maximilian had recovered and once more joined in the attack, swinging his hammer wildly.The creature riposted, once again attacking both mageknights to send them stumbling back. On the verge of panic, Martel felt a burning sensation in his pocket, and he wondered if he had been attacked by a spell. He found it difficult to think or even breathe. Enemies of flesh and blood he could handle, but how to defeat a monster like this?The spirit approached Eleanor, its arm becoming a tendril once again. Martel could already see how it would suffocate her, and his mind cleared. As it turned out, his fear of watching Eleanor die exceeded any concern about his own mortality.In turn, he looked down at the rune stone in his hand. He saw it was cracked, lines running through the symbols on its surface. "You remember Regnar, the hedge mage? He gave this to me for protection. I must say, it served its purpose." Though Martel had a feeling it would not do so again; its magic seemed spent. He certainly would not stake his life on it."Let us keep moving. I cannot wait to get back above ground," Maximilian said brusquely. He set into motion; after a moment, Eleanor and Martel followed after.***The journey through the tunnels felt long and uncomfortable; Martel kept glancing over his shoulder, even if his flame did not provide much light in that direction. Besides, he knew that he would feel the spirit's presence if it approached them; still, he could not help but constantly look. He only breathed easily once they climbed up the hatch and stood on the streets of Morcaster again."We are never doing this again," Maximilian declared."I do think we misjudged the situation," Eleanor acknowledged. She looked at Martel. "I am sorry. This is beyond us.""So we tell our teachers?" Martel asked."No." Maximilian shook his head vigorously. "They will feel bound to inform the Inquisition, as creatures born of magical deviancy falls under their purview. And the three of us will be permanently linked to this abomination. Do you understand what that would do to my reputation?""But we fought the damn creature," the fire acolyte argued."Irrelevant. We walked around the catacombs where no decent people would ever go. You yourself said you saw necromancy down there before. And when they ask how three acolytes survived this encounter? They will assume only maleficars could have the powers to do so. And if you mention your little pebble with Tyrian runes, they will simply add that to their list of suspicions!" Maximilian looked at them both. "I am not risking my future for this, living the rest of my life under the scrutiny of the Inquisition.""I fear he is right," Eleanor admitted. "They will never permit someone tainted by even the slightest suspicion of maleficus to become a legate. I am sorry," she repeated, turning her eyes on Martel. "You said the inquisitors already knew to search the sewers for their quarry. They must know about the catacombs as well. We can tell them nothing new."Martel felt confident that the inquisitors had no idea of the monster that stalked the catacombs, but at the same time, he had no desire to be the one informing them. He knew the others were right; the mage hunters would only be suspicious of him as well. With a sigh, he let his shoulders drop. "Let's go home."None of them noticed that across the street, a man dressed in a blue uniform narrowed his eyes, looking at the three young wizards leaving the alley.
