Chương 273

They struck camp before dawn, though no one seemed eager to leave the forest. The air at the forest's edge felt hollow, stripped of the vibrant energy that usually pulsed through the trees, and the knowledge that they'd be working under a dampened Field the whole time made it even harder. At least we have these, Orion thought, eyeing the new bracelet on his wrist. As far as he could tell, it was much like the artifact Daelin had given him to filter out noxious gases, though far more specialized.

It would do nothing to help their magic against the Silence, but it would allow them to breathe within it as if it were normal air, and it should be able to withstand high concentrations of it without breaking down. It was the result of months upon months of hard work by the Sanctum's best enchanters, and while it might have looked underwhelming to some, Orion knew all too well the worth of such a thing. Daus suffered the most.

His bark-like armor looked dry, flaking onto the gray dirt now and then as he prepared to adapt to the new environment. Eventually, Verner wordlessly handed him a flask of pale blue liquid, which Daus drank with a grateful nod, restoring some of his strength.

"Keep close to one another and never wander off on your own," Garrick ordered, adjusting the strap on his scabbard. Once everyone was as ready as they could be, they stepped into the fog. Entering the dead zone felt like walking underwater. The Field, normally a constant thrum at the back of Orion's mind, dropped to a distant drone he had to focus on to make out. The mist smelled funny even with their bracelets, leaving a film on their skin. Curious, Orion snapped his fingers, attempting a simple spark of light.

The cantrip sputtered and died, starved of fuel before it could even be born. He adjusted his focus, drawing harder on his Knowledge to assemble a tier-two spell. This time, the structure held, forming a gravity well, but pushing the spell through the fog felt like forcing a fist through thick mud. Verner watched the display with keen interest and offered his own insights.

"The saturation is broad and appears to be spread across the entire area. This is all preliminary, but I would think the Silence can suppress weak affinities, while the stronger ones remain accessible. That should mean that tier-three castings will be unaffected, though I expect anything weaker than that will require more focus." Orion nodded mutely. It wasn't anything he didn't already know from his past observations, but it was important to confirm that the substance still worked the same way.

I wouldn't put it past Uther to devise a new variation that could scramble casting in entirely new ways. I should keep testing the compound as we go to be sure. They moved forward. A mile into the fog, a dark silhouette appeared in the distance, and they tensed, only to relax when they realized it was just the remnants of a dead Ironwood.

"Strange that this one would be left behind," Garrick muttered, eyeing the tree with suspicion. Considering the Iron State's seemingly unending hunger for materials, it was quite strange, but the tree was visibly dead, and to Orion's gaze, there was no active mana within it. Of course, that changed as they moved past it and heard a low groan. They were all immediately on alert, warily eyeing the lone tree, when a gnarled root whipped out of the mist, aimed directly at Jordan's chest.

The paladin drew his blade and brought it down in a flash of silver light, shearing the wood in two. The tree uprooted itself, rising thirty feet into the air. Its bark wept black, acidic sap. As it moved, the fog coalesced around it into the spectral shapes of wolves, boars, and stags, which Orion guessed were the furious echoes of the fauna that had died from the poison, trapped within the surviving wood. Note to self: just because something seems inert doesn't mean it's dead, he thought drily.

Inspect everything from now on, no matter how innocuous. Ironwood Shade Treant - Scream of the Lost Class: [Grudge Treant] [B-rank] Level: 129 Mind: 41 Attunement: 721 Body: 1050 Traits: [Shade Absorption] [B-rank]; [Revenge of the Forest] [B-rank]; [Hidden Ambush] [B-rank] Ah, so it wasn't just that I messed up; it had a Trait that let it slip past our attention. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened.

Some people, like his father, were powerful enough to keep the System from giving away their information, while other beings possessed meta-skills that could grant them temporary or situational protection. The Treant, it seemed, could look nothing more than a dead tree as long as it was lying in ambush. The moment it moved, it became visible once more. Orion didn't have more time to consider the unique Trait, however, as the spectral beasts charged. Esmeralda hissed, her hands glowing with crimson energy.

She sent a wave of blood forward, but the mist slowed it, allowing the ghostly wolves to slip through the gaps and snap at her legs. She cursed, forming a slender rapier to parry the bites and then carving through them one by one. For his part, Orion activated his gravity skates to avoid a lunging bear, but the acceleration was a fraction slower than usual, throwing off his timing. A spectral stag rammed into his side, its antlers glancing off his active exoskeleton.

He rolled with the impact, planting his hands in the dirt to send a repelling wave that shattered the apparition into harmless mist.

"Stop playing with the ghosts," Erethemor growled.

"We need to kill the Treant, or it will endlessly reform them." He vaulted over Jordan's shoulder, ignoring a barrage of sharpened branches that splintered against his crimson scales. He slammed into the Treant's main trunk, his claws blazing with draconic fire, and dug into the weeping bark, roared, and tore the corrupted heartwood wide open in a shower of boiling sap.

He howled in victory, only to be slapped aside by a whip-like branch, skidding across the dusty soil, only to rise as if the hit that could have shattered Orion's bones were little more than a tap. With such a grievous wound, it took little time for them to bring the Treant down, though it certainly tried its best to make it annoying. Eventually, Garrick managed to thrust his sword through the wound, releasing a concussive wave. The tree shuddered and collapsed, and the spectral beasts dissolved.

System Notification Participated in the defeat of [Ironwood Shade Treant] [Lv. 129] +76, 000 Exp Solemnly, Daus walked to the ruined trunk. He knelt, pressing both hands against the exposed, rotting wood. A soft green light pulsed from his palms, washing away the black acid and granting the trapped spirits their final rest. I would very much like to ask him about those. Were they simple imprints left by the dead, or their actual souls?

I would have once scoffed at it, but I'm a clear example that there is something about the nature of existence beyond mere flesh. Unfortunately, I don't think Daus would appreciate such questions. In fact, the druid looked as if he were about to burst into tears, though he managed to compose himself.

"The fog slows our magic even more than disrupting long-range casting," Garrick noted, wiping a spot of acid from his leather armor.

"Adjust your timing to account for that. Now, if everyone is okay, we should keep moving." The terrain grew more uneven as they pressed north, scarred by deep, parallel grooves. Treads. Orion immediately took point, as this was the very reason he'd been assigned to Team Obsidian. The thermal overlay fought through the alchemical interference and eventually resolved into a clear picture.

"I can follow them," he announced, pointing toward a rocky incline where the tracks disappeared beneath the ash.

"I believe we are dealing with at least seven targets, all machines." Garrick nodded grimly.

"It seems we'll get our first taste of the true enemy soon. Be ready, people." The others all gave signs of assent, even the ever-rebellious Erethemor, showing that he'd been chosen for a reason. Or maybe he's just eager to fight and knows that complaining would only slow us down. It was fine to play around with single, isolated enemies, but with the Iron State, they couldn't take chances. Orion led them through the fog until they crested a low hill.

Below, as promised, an Iron State patrol marched through a dry riverbed. Two Centurions led the group. Flanking them were three bipedal Walkers and two Burrowers, whose drill-noses occasionally probed the dirt. They must be looking for something. Deposits? Ores? He doubted they'd get an answer without waiting for the patrol to find what they were here for, and that could take far too long for their purposes.

Esmeralda made a disgusted sound at the sight, and considering how valuable flesh and blood were to a vampire, he could see where she was coming from.

"They use organic cores," he muttered.

"At least the larger machines all have brain tissue suspended in fluid. Target the chests, and you should be able to find them." He saw a gleeful light enter her eyes, and she gave him a fanged smirk. Garrick raised two fingers, then dropped his hand. The ambush struck hard. Verner opened fire on them, casting a tier-three spell that parted the fog, moving as a ripple through the air. The magic took a moment to travel, but when it hit the leading Centurion, it shattered its glass optics and buckled its front legs.

Jordan followed immediately after, already glowing with light. He vaulted onto the crippled machine and drove his blade straight down through the armor plating into the biological core. A wave of gold erupted from his blade, and the damage proved too much. The most dangerous construct seized and died before it could even mount a resistance. The remaining machines spun, their weapons whining as they prepared to engage. For this fight, Orion focused entirely on control.

He dropped a gravity field onto the first Burrower just as it tried to dive beneath the soil, crushing its drill inward and pinning it to the surface. He caught only flashes of Esmeralda as she moved. She slipped past a volley of rounds and locked onto the second Centurion. Following his advice, she ignored the metal entirely, flooding the construct with a wave of blood.

Most of it washed away uselessly, but enough clung to its armor that when her claws struck, burrowing into it, the liquid surged within the chassis. Esmeralda was thrown back as the Silence defenses engaged, erupting in clouds of the damnable gas, but by then the damage was done. Within a minute, the Centurion began moving erratically, then started twitching, and eventually slumped. I can't know for sure, but I'm pretty sure she made it to the brain vat. Garrick personally fell upon the Walkers.

He swung his greatsword in wide sweeps, and the sheer force of his strikes sheared through the iron legs of two constructs at once. The third Walker lunged at him from behind, but Erethemor caught it mid-air, crushing its chassis between his hands and tossing the wreckage aside, then bathed the whole thing in fire until it had become little more than slag. He then repeated the process with every machine, leaving them sweating in the sudden heat and surrounded by piles of smoking metal.

System Notification Participated in the defeat of [Iron State Centurion] [Lv. 112-117] x2 Personally defeated [Iron State Burrower] [Lv. 78-81] x2 +141, 000 Exp Unsurprisingly, the Walkers hadn't given him much experience, and what he did get wasn't enough to push him up another level.

"Well, that was refreshing," Erethemor suddenly said, looking much more pleased with himself now that he'd vented. Orion sighed, knowing this mission would be a long one.