Chương 16: 15 The Broken Lantern

I lunged for the Vulcan who had discovered the contraband. He whirled to meet me, shield coming up. My cutlass skidded off the shield, and he countered with a blurring scimitar. I parried, the force of his strike jarring my arm. For a human, I was fast and strong. But the Vulcan stood two heads taller than me. He threw an extra sixty pounds and a foot of reach behind every strike. Steel slammed me back. I fell back, deflecting forceful strikes from his scimitar as I tracked the rest of the party.

Ignis was down, cowering for cover behind one of the crates. Bianca fell back as the other Vulcan's blades opened a gash on her shoulder. Ingred's Lesser Frost Strikes slammed against its shield, and Azhak pointed at Naomi. A ball of orange streaked from his outstretched finger. Naomi yelped, throwing up a psychic shield. The flames washed across the unseen barrier, but she went pale, sweat steaming off her face. I slammed into a crate, losing track of the others.

The Vulcan bellowed and drove into me with his shield. I vaulted onto the crate, boots crushing coal pears. I stood on the hidden orange steel, now head and shoulders over my opponent. I panted, forcing my lungs to take in burning air. The Vulcan wasn't witless; his scimitar danced around the edge of his shield, darting from behind cover without presenting an opening. I grunted, steel ringing off steel as I struggled to keep up. A coal pear rolled under my boot, and I almost fell off. My jaw clenched.

I had to save mana. I stepped back, boots skidding across loose coal pears. No. Ten more seconds and I was dead. I snarled and activated Empowered Windmill Form. My cutlass ignited with sputtering white light. My cutlass arched down, dragging a white afterimage through the air. Glowing orange notches flashed across the Vulcan's shield. He recoiled from my empowered blade, ducking further behind his shield. I sprang off the crate, pressing my attack. White tracks of system power carved through the air as I struck.

My sword arm cramped from the heat. A low mana warning flashed on my HUD. I sidestepped, changing my attack angle. My cutlass batted his scimitar forcefully, then a follow-up chop jerked his shield to the side, exposing his breastplate. I lunged for the kill. Something gangly and searing slammed onto my head. Azhak's pet, the Tephrite, screamed, raking at my face and ripping at my hair. My bellow split the air as I reached up and caught it by the scruff of the neck.

It was like grabbing a log from the fire, the way the heat seared through my glove. I ripped it down and punted it before it could hit the ground. Its shrieks faded as it sailed away. Before I could reorient myself, the Vulcan's shield slammed into my shoulder, a spike in the center puncturing meat. I cried out, falling to the sharp obsidian sand. My mana hit zero, and my Empowered Windmill Form fizzled away. The Vulcan kicked, but I scrambled back, dragging my cutlass through scalding glass sand.

A pair of Lesser Frost Strikes slammed into the Vulcan's shield, and he ducked low. Bless Ingred. I wanted to look her way, to touch base with the rest of the team, but I had no attention to spare. I surged to my feet as the Vulcan caught another Lesser Frost Strike on his shield. I charged. Shields were the worst. It took the sport out of swordplay, but that didn't mean I had never trained to face them. I dropped, sliding boots first, into the Vulcan's ankle.

My boots kicked his leg back, throwing him off as a Lesser Frost Strike impacted his shoulder. He howled in pain.

"Ingred, help Bianca!" Naomi's voice called. I didn't gather context; I was already chopping into the Vulcan's thigh. My blade scored a steaming line of orange blood, but the fire-resistant skin was like thick cowhide. My neck tendons grew tight, muscles twitching with the exertion. I needed sweat, but there was no moisture left. The Vulcan pivoted, chopping at me with an overhand strike. His blade clashed with mine—hard, but slow.

Blackened flesh on his shoulder cracked, the joint locking up where Ingred's Lesser Frost Strike had struck home. He shook his arm, testing it, and fell back far behind the shield. My own shoulder pulsed in pain where I had ignored a burning puncture. I breathed heavily, the air itself hurting as it entered. Somewhere behind me, Bianca snarled, and something crashed. I kept my attention locked on my Vulcan. He lunged, and I swapped my cutlass into my left hand.

I struck with a three-strike chain of wrap-shots to his sword side. Each wrap-shot struck the shield, then curved at the last second, snaking around the rim and cutting with the back edge. The wrap-shots lacked the power of a proper strike, but the Vulcan hissed as the tip opened a line of blood on his upper cheek. I kicked into his shield, careful not to plant the sole of my boot on the central spike. My foot shoved the shield to the side, and I screamed as I struck down.

My blade deflected off his brass-domed helmet. He flailed blindly. Pain flared on my wrists, and I staggered. My lungs heaved, inviting the heat into my chest. The world wobbled, and my limbs grew heavy. I could have used another five points of fire resistance. I stumbled to a knee, muscles locking. The Vulcan let out a pained cry as he wound up for a strike—he froze, eyes going milky white.

My chest heaved, lungs burning, and with effort, I turned to see Naomi standing with a finger to her temple, her own eyes pupilless. I gasped twice.

"Sorry, Naomi." I hefted my blade.

"I hope you don't feel this." My blade punched forward. The Vulcan dropped at my feet, and Naomi gasped, clutching her sternum where I'd run my opponent through. Finally, I took in the rest of the fight. The other Vulcan slumped motionless, steaming as Ingred hit him with another Lesser Frost Strike. Ignis continued to cower, hands clutched tight over his head. Azhak panted, face drawn in focus, wand trembling in one hand, lantern dangling from the other.

And Bianca— A curse slipped free, then I sprinted to her prone form. I slid to her side on my knees. My trembling hands fumbled one of her healing potions from her belt. I rolled her limp form; her neck had elongated, her forearms thick and meaty, and two cuts on her shoulder ventured dangerously close to her neck. I uncorked it and dumped the potion into the wound. The musk of hot ectoplasm mixed with the smell of blood as her wound foamed on contact.

Applied topically, health potions would slow and even stop the bleeding. Ingested, they began repairing the most severe damage first from the inside out. I wasn't taking any chances. I drew out her second potion, unstopped it, and held it to her lips. Her eyes fluttered weakly, but she grabbed the vial, drinking deeply.

"Don't move!" Naomi warned in a low voice. She and Ingred flanked the customs warden. I got a good whiff of sulfur and ash as I snatched my cutlass from the sand. I wanted to stay with Bianca to monitor her healing, but training pulled me away. I trusted the potion to do its job. I took the center of our line as Azhak backed away, eyes darting wildly.

"You're dead," he said.

"All of you! Reinforcements will come. There's no way you can load this all." His hand tightened on his wand. Bianca groaned and stirred.

"I didn't hear an alarm," Naomi said carefully.

"I saw no flare. Seems like it's in our best interest to ensure you don't make it back."

"You think you've won?" he grinned. Where did this confidence come from?

"I'm assuming you don't have another squad," I said, muscles weak.

"And there's no way you're outrunning me in those robes." Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Warden Azhak held up his lantern threateningly. I hesitated again, assessing. What was I missing?

"You think the Ash Lords will forgive this?" he demanded. He scoffed.

"Your corpses will burn on the walls of Obcity before the day's out." I watched the lantern's light, the fire that flickered and buzzed. A magic item of some sort? A weapon? A bluff?

"Listen," Naomi said.

"You don't have to die. Put that down, and there's a way you walk away from this." His gaze snapped past Naomi to Ignis, who was peering over the crate.

"Are you a real Trade Registrar?" he asked, training his wand on Ingred as she flanked wider.

"If you are, I'll find out who you are. You're dead, your family will starve in Sultan Azhar Al-Harraq's dungeons." Ignis tensed.

"Kill him," he whispered.

"I'm with the coward," I agreed.

"He's got nothing on us."

"Wait," Naomi said, squinting at the lantern, trying to decipher its purpose. Bianca hauled herself up, wounds scabbed over. Even with two potions, that was absurdly fast.

"I'm leaving," the customs warden said.

"Try to escape with your contraband. Every ship in the Scorched Fleet will run you down before you make it three leagues from the island."

"Yeah, pal," I said, starting forward.

"You're not going anywhere."

"Tony, wait!" Naomi called— Azhak hoisted the lantern, slamming it down onto the ground. Glass cracked, and a bonfire jetted into the sky. I flinched back, the stench of my singed eyebrows gagging me. What was it, a signal? I blinked the spots away in my vision as the bonfire coalesced into a form, a being of heat and light.

"Primordial!" Ingred cried, launching a pair of Lesser Frost Strikes at it. The frost vanished into its torso, and it roared in pain. Its amorphous head and shoulders turned to Ingred. She stepped back, hands coming up defensively. It surged, carving a track of glass through the beach.

"Hey!" I cried, rushing after the elemental being. I had no plan. That didn't matter, Ingred was in danger. I intercepted the elemental, swiping with my sword. The steel passed through the primordial the same way it would pass through a campfire. My knuckles and face flashed with pain, the sheer heat driving me back. It ignored me, a vortex of flame blasting the sand under it. The elemental being reared over Ingred.

"No!" I bellowed. Ingred threw up her hands, a jet of winter air and sleet blasted into the living flames. The primordial shrieked in pain. The vaguely humanoid form doubled over before tearing away to escape the cold.

"Tony!" Naomi cried. I spun to find her alone, chasing Azhak. She telekinetically lobbed a dagger at his back, but it sank into the sand at his feet. I cursed, reorienting myself. Then I took off after the warden. My muscles seized, but I forced myself on. Even with severe cramps, I quickly caught up to Naomi.

"Stop—him!" she sputtered, feet wobbling unsteadily under her. I continued past, eyes itching in the dry air. Ahead, Azhak yanked a brass tube from within his robe and thrust it up into the sky. A star trailing a dark blue chalk tail shrieked free. As the flare reached the crest of its path, it popped into a cloud of blue chalk dust. A signal. Great, if there were any other patrols in the area—well, I wasn't exactly in fighting shape anymore.

"Hey!" I snarled. He looked over his shoulder, eyes widening as I gained on him. My vision narrowed on the customs warden. Apex Wrath. No. I slapped myself, forcing myself from the dregs of the rage. He barked an order in his elemental tongue. Naomi gasped.

"Tony, behind you." I slowed, strength draining as I turned. A vortex of flame with a face and broad shoulders barreled towards me, leaving a glowing orange channel in its wake. Fear washed fatigue away. I screamed as I sprinted. What did I do? My hand tightened on the hilt of my sword. Completely useless. So far, only Ingred had been able to hurt it. I looped around trying to skirt the living flame and get to Ingred. Despite my adrenaline, I started drifting left as my leg locked up.

The sand around me glittered in the rapidly brightening firelight as the furnace of rage bore down on me. I shifted my angle, looping back towards the crates. It wasn't a plan, it wasn't even a whole idea, but my focus latched onto the crates like a swimmer heading for driftwood. My breath tore through me, ragged gasps. The taste of blood coated my tongue, but the building heat at my back drove me on. Three more strides and I dove at a crate. I spun, finding myself face to face with a living furnace.

The Primordial thrust his elemental palms forward. I cried out, covering my face with my arms. A jet of flame poured onto me. I hollered, skin burning, but the majority of the fire siphoned into the crate at my back. The Primordial reared back, confused, then it blasted me again. I screamed, but mine wasn't the only cry. Ignis lay prone beside me, covering his head and whimpering. Ignis weathered the diverted heat far better than I did; still, his robes ignited.

Something tucked away in his inner garment caught my eye. The crate at my back glowed like an inferno. I flinched away. The Primordial roared in a voice like embers under the bellows. Rather than blasting me in another river of heat, its fiery hand reached for me. I ignored the blisters on my hand and thrust it into Ignis's robe. I ripped the lacquered wooden box free. The fire swelled. I snapped the decorative case open, snatching a sapphire. Still roasting alive, I hurled it into the Primordial's core.

A Sea's Tear glinted as it twisted, then it vanished into flame. The Primordial stopped, glancing down, almost as if confused. A tidal burst erupted, shredding the Elemental from the inside in a blast of steam and mist. My vision wavered, and my head slumped. Consciousness flickered as muffled voices buzzed with urgency. My head bobbed as I felt the glass pressed to my lip. The healing potion slid down my throat, and I shuddered before groping for the vial.

I tipped it back on my own, feeling my strength trickle back. Blurred figures gestured animatedly. I blinked, dumbly, bringing focus back.

"—Every ship within miles saw that flare," a voice said. Was that—Elara? The half-Orc Marine pointed to the sky. I shook my head, still on the beach, back to a pile of crates. Six Paradisian marines surrounded us, wrapped in drenched layers. The men established a perimeter, muskets braced on crates as they scanned the horizon on all sides. Bianca steadied my head with one hand and held another potion to my lips. Back in her human form, she smiled sheepishly. A mess of dried blood and ash crusted on her neck.

"You—okay?" I croaked.

"Me?" she snorted.

"Try looking in a mirror sometime."

"The mission," Naomi said.

"It's going to take days to load this!" Elara said.

"We have minutes at best. I'm sorry. We have to go! Leave it!"

"We have a plan," Naomi said.

"Ice island. We'll make a bridge and carry it across." Elara shook her head, frustrated.

"Assuming it doesn't instantly melt, that buys us a day at best—" Something tugged in my grip, and I pulled the box of tears to my chest.

"What are you doing?" Bianca demanded of Ignis, who had attempted to pull the case away.

"I need those!" he hissed.

"The warden got away. They're going to find my family. This is how I buy my way to freedom."

"But," I croaked, skin a wrapping of pain.

"We don't have the steel. Not yet."

"Not my fault," he snapped, face drawn tight.

"I delivered. I showed up on time. You're the ones who let him get away!" His voice pulled Naomi from her argument. She hurried over.

"Ignis, what happens if we leave this here?"

"What?" he demanded, making another grab for the tears. Bianca slapped his hand away.

"This steel. What happens when they come back?" He blinked blankly, tugging at his collar.

"If it's taken? It's—" he shook his head.

"Impounded. They'll hold it in Obcity. This will start a series of audits. Inquiries—" The plum color drained from his face.

"They'll figure it was sourced from my refineries."

"Ignis—" I coughed weakly.

"You've got to get your family somewhere safe."

"I know," he whimpered.

"Terra Slab."

"No," I said.

"You're staying here."

"We had a deal! And you destroyed one of the tears."

"Tony saved your life!" Ingred snapped, planting her hands on her hips.

"Guys, now is not the time!" Elara said.

"We've got to go now! The Op's compromised." I rolled forward, sitting up. Bianca gave me a hand, helping me to my feet. My skin smarted, my muscles ached, but it all buzzed as the healing potion repaired damage. I glanced at Naomi.

"Lieutenant Stormsong's right. We can't load it now."

"We're not failing our first quest."

"Stalled," I said.

"Not failed." I twisted towards Ignis.

"After you get your family somewhere secure, follow the shipment. Where can we find you?"

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"We'll have to move fast. We have until they find out you're the one responsible." He deflated, and moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes.

"Just give me the tears," his voice cracked.

"Please."

"I'm sorry," I said, grimacing as I clutched my shoulder.

"But we're finishing this quest. Which means we still need you." His jaw worked soundlessly. Then his brow furrowed.

"Obcity, there's a tavern—the Ashen Keel. My brother-in-law owns it. I'll be waiting there every evening." I nodded once in acceptance, and Naomi cast a final mournful glance at the loot.

"Three days," Ignis said.

"I can stall the investigations for three days, but it'll be suspicious. Any longer and you can find me in an Ashlord Dungeon."

"Can you arrange a meeting with your buyers?" Naomi asked, glancing worriedly over her shoulder.

"Who are they?"

"Dissidents," Ignis said.

"Enemies of Sultan Al-Harraq."

"We might need muscle," Naomi said.

"Absolutely not," the Registrar said.

"So you can cut me out? I'm a middleman, remember."

"You'll get paid, Ignis," I said.

"I promise."

"How can I trust you?" he demanded, gaze flickering to the box.

"You've already robbed me once." I glanced down at the case, tight in my burned fingers.

"If I give these to you now, you disappear. I don't blame you, but we need you. Three days. The Ashen Keel. You'll be paid. I swear it." I turned to Naomi. It made sense in my head, but it wasn't my call.

"Right?" She nodded.

"Yes. You'll get the tears, Ignis." Ignis swallowed uneasily.

"I'd better," he stepped back, turning before rushing away.

"Let's get moving, boys! Time. Now!" Elara called. Her men peeled off from their various points of cover.

"Are we done wasting time we don't have?" she asked. I took a step forward but sagged, leaning heavily on Bianca.

"Sorry," I said, the beach spinning. I tried collecting myself, but my strength was gone. Elara stomped over, then scooped me up like the damsel in stories.

"Don't worry, hero. I've got you." Good thing my face was already burned to a mass of red blisters; she might have seen my blush. The Silver Zephyr waited in the water; the longboat lay beached on the sand. The crew jogged. On this blasted island, even a modest pace felt like sprinting with a rucksack full of bricks. A plume of water erupted into the air, a hundred meters off the Zephyr. The distance boom of cannonfire followed moments later, like a delayed echo. I scanned the water.

A distant pair of Sirocco-class warbrigs rounded a seastack. The Scorched Fleet had arrived. An alarm bell rang out from the Silver Zephyr as figures swarmed the deck. Elara cursed, then she lifted her voice.

"Run!" <<Time to Seal Collapse: 04: 02: 03: 07: 49: 41>>