Chương 28: Sanctum

Even with his eyes closed, Joel could feel the toxic miasma battering against him. A bright light pierced past his shut eyelids. He flinched sharply. As the flash faded, he recognized the dazzle as Wirbald's magic. The smog, blasting his face like funneled chimney smoke, suddenly dissipated. Roaring winds and the endless screams became quieter — no longer an overwhelming assault on his senses.

"You're good to open your eyes and breathe, lad!" Wirbald yelled from somewhere to the left. The cacophony of noise made him sound so far away. Joel opened his eyes to a thin film of a protective barrier. He gasped the clean air gratefully.

"Thanks!" he shouted back out to Wirbald, though the dense smog made it almost impossible to see. Straining his eyes, he tried to sift through the dark miasma. Instead, he saw a notification glaring back at him. [WARNING: Imposed (Status Effect). Tilt 1 afflicted.] Imposed? Already afflicted by tilt? Was that from the Sanctum? It meant taking even more damage and there wasn't a clear way to get rid of the affliction.

That wasn't like being prone or poisoned; there were simple methods to remove those status effects. Before he had another moment to think, a dull orange boulder flew towards his head. He leapt away, only for his back to impact against a cold, invisible wall. Dammit, no time to parry. He turned his head away, gritting his teeth in anticipation for the blow. The force snapped his head back, but he didn't feel any pain or impact. Opening a single eye, he saw a small crack form in Wirbald's barrier helmet.

The helm of light shined bright again, sealing the cracks. He felt a hand upon his shoulder. Joel spun to barely see Wirbald.

"Pay attention or you'll die," the former guildmaster said, his tone somber.

"Even with my skills, I won't be able to constantly repair your barrier."

"Sorry," Joel muttered back as he massaged his neck from the whiplash. The raging miasma made it impossible to tell how big the cavern was. But Joel didn't need to see to know the cave was a substantial size; the echoing din told him as much. He ducked the shadow of something that whipped overhead.

"We need to find the others!" Every scream made his mouth dry. He hoped the others were alright.

"Can't you clear the miasma? Use your barriers?" Wirbald shook his light-covered head.

"Within this Sanctum, and at my current capacity, I don't know if I'll be able to repeat an attempt to smother all of this." His eyes darted around the whirling fumes.

"We must find the conduit." His hand, holding his orb, shot out to block another hunk of stone.

"Sooner than later." Once the rock clattered down at their feet, both of them shared a look. It wasn't stone. It was bronze. The same metal that had been stripped from the dead beetles they'd encountered. Joel slapped away a chunk of sharpened bronze with the flat of his blade. The impact shook his hand numb. The force of the deflected missile nearly knocked him off his feet.

"What's a conduit?" he asked while taking a proper fighting stance.

"Think of it like a channeling focus, but keeping this Sanctum active. Once isolated, I can destroy it and break us free. Perhaps even stop the miasma's spread."

"The others take priority, surely." Joel wished he could hear them through the tumultuous noise.

"We'll be able to cover more ground with them." Even in the heavy smog, he could spot the slight hesitation from Wirbald. The mage didn't need to say anything; he thought it was a waste of time.

"We need to find them," Joel said with a firmness that surprised himself. After a second, Wirbald's shoulders relaxed, enough to relieve the tension within his own.

"Fine, but we must make haste." Wirbald's small barrier deflected another careening chunk of bronze.

"Whoever has summoned this Sanctum hasn't made their presence known to us."

"Isn't that good?" The silence told Joel otherwise. Wirbald ran into the miasma, his glowing helmet serving as a beacon in the dark. Light flashed around him, each one another conjured barrier for blocking. Dashing after the older man, Joel saw the fog whip past his protected head. The helm made him feel like an astronaut caught in a dirty snowstorm. He slipped two boulders that smashed somewhere behind him. Breaking into a full sprint, he kept his eyes ahead and locked onto Wirbald.

The mage was even faster now, slowly increasing the distance between them. But it wasn't just Wirbald's elevated speed, Joel felt slower. A notable sluggishness was weighing him down, muddying his steps. He confirmed it with another parry, knocking a large sliver of bronze away. His slashes were dawdling and his movements were staggered. It felt like lag from high ping. Guess that explained the Imposed status. He hated it already. Another mass of bronze shot at his torso, bursting through the fog.

He slapped it down with the length of his Seahorn sword. Bending but not breaking, the sword's durability astonished him. Its clang rang out. Another echoed back, and then another. Again and again. The sound of steel against bronze.

"Wirbald, over here!" Joel yelled, immediately pivoting to that direction. The clashes became louder until he saw Alis' fiery blasts and Sivren's illuminated shield. Any shred of relief disappeared when he saw them more clearly. Their magical air bubbles were getting dangerously thin, only an inch away from their faces. Worse, they were being bombarded by bronze artillery, most of it being fended off by Al's greatsword. Joel leapt forward to join them, intercepting one of the metal projectiles.

"Miss me?"

"Shut it and help!" Alis yelled back, her air bubble rippling. Siv shunted his magical shield to block Joel's rear.

"Glad you're here." The half-elf afforded him a feeble smile. A flurry of parries and blocks, Al managed a nod. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Joel rushed to join his side. The Imposed status was obviously taking a toll on them. Even accounting for their wariness, the trio's usually tight teamwork edged on lethargic. Only Al seemed to move with any purposeful urgency. He didn't try to match Al's pace, only covering his blindspots instead.

Silvery light flashed behind him, Siv's shield moving to include him in its blocking. Meanwhile, Alis' flame melted away the smaller shards of bronze and slowed anything bigger. The oncoming rain of shrapnel appeared never-ending. Joel's sword arm was becoming heavier with each parry and block, but he didn't dare to stop moving. Everything was focused upon maintaining the rhythm of defense. Joel ignored the mounting ache building in his legs.

He had no idea how Al had been able to maintain his agility, especially in his heavier armor. To make things worse, he noticed that either he was slowing down or the flying bronze was speeding up because each parry became more laborious. One deflecting slash reverberated through his hand, briefly reeling him back and away from the others. Before he could reset his position, a bowling ball of bronze cannoned against him. Pain exploded into his ribs as he went rolling to the ground.

Heaving, he tried to drag himself back to his feet. [Damage taken. HP: 50%] The number made him nearly freeze. That much? Panic surged as he heard several slabs darting through the air behind him. He spun into a roll. Each spot he twisted away from detonated with shattered bronze. Finally turning to his feet, he blocked another with a groggy upswing. The impacting force sent him tumbling back down again.

"Joel!" Alis screamed, moving towards him until she was yanked away by Al. The former knight bolted towards Joel, there in a second. He became as ever present as the miasma itself, a blur of blocks and parries. Even his breathing seemed steady, despite the closing bubble. Joel stood, getting his bearings before joining Al. The others moved to the two of them, a blast of fire melting more bronze on their approach. They gathered back to back. Their eyes darted in the dark, searching for further projectiles.

Even against the faint screams and buffeting smog, Joel could hear both Alis and Siv gasping for air. He didn't dare look away to see how shrunken their air bubbles were bound to be. Yet nothing fired towards them. Not daring to believe the lull, they kept their gazes fixed. And still nothing came. Even the screams became softer, as if those shrieking were being dragged away. Only wind and wheezing remained. None of them moved until Al broke his stance. He turned to Joel.

"Where is that old—" Bright light covered the trio's faces, underneath their stretched air bubbles. It shunted out and formed glowing helms like Joel's. He heard the others' breathing start to even and slow. Popping out of the fog, the pony-tailed Wirbald's bespectacled, smiling face appeared. His channeling focus, an orb, hovered above his hand. Its usually bright light was dimmed.

"You're all alive," the gaunt mage said.

"Thank goodness."

"Where were you? I called out to you." Joel couldn't help the accusation in his tone.

"I couldn't hear a thing from the racket. By the time I checked behind, you'd disappeared." Wirbald sent the orb to illuminate the space near all of them. He thumbed toward where he'd come from.

"No conduit over there."

"So it is a Sanctum," Alis said with a mixture of satisfaction and curiosity.

"In my estimation, the Sanctum's perimeter is unusually large." Wirbald scratched at his beard. It sounded like he was talking to himself rather than to them.

"Likely a sphere, a common enough shape. But massive enough to fill this entire chamber. However, it is surprising that the natural environment hasn't been transformed."

"Where's the one control—" Joel flinched and clutched his side. With the adrenaline wearing off, the pain in his ribs was nauseating. It hurt to simply speak. A sudden relief replaced the soreness. Silvery white light enveloped his ribs as a warm, yet cool sensation stretched.

"Sorry that I can't offer you more," Siv said, his brow damp with sweat. The light faded away from his amulet. His usually shining blue eyes — a tell of his elven heritage — were dull. He must've been scraping the bottom of his magical reserves. Joel gave the warmest smile he could muster.

"It's more than enough, Siv. Thank you." It wasn't a lie. He risked a bend sideways, to stretch and test for pain. Nothing. A glance at his [Status] screen revealed his HP at 61%. It was incredible how much of a difference 11% could make. He turned to hear Alis and Wirbald shouting at each other.

"And I'm saying it's a fair wager that whoever made this Sanctum has the conduit on their person," Alis yelled, her nose twisting.

"We're going to have to face whoever is here no matter what, we should be chasing after them instead. I've even read that some can use their conduits as a focus."

"You're speaking of the exception to the rule," Wirbald replied, nearly hissing.

"It would take a being of immense magical capability to do such a thing. And even granting that, that's further reason we should be avoiding direct contact with such a force. Moreso when within they hold all the advantages." Al got between them.

"Calm down. I agree with Wirbald." He put a hand up to stop Alis from interrupting.

"I think I've fought in one of these before. We destroyed an altar of greystone to stop it. The damned bastard had nothing on him the whole fight." There was a pained pause. With a stoic look, he turned to Wirbald.

"But we'll have to face whoever, whatever, is down here. That's inevitable." Wirbald held a cold gaze.

"I'll be there to match them, don't you fret." That was Joel's cue to play peacemaker. He asked what worried him.

"Why'd they stop attacking? They have to know we're here, right?"

"Could be playing at some sick game," Wirbald muttered grimly.

"Or charging for a more devastating blow."

"More reason to make haste then," Siv said, glancing at the sweeping miasma around them.

"Is it unwise to suggest we split up to cover more ground?" He gave a playful tap against the barrier helm with his dagger.

"Losing air is a lesser issue now." Al dismissed the idea immediately.

"The risk is too great."

"Agreed," said the ex-guildmaster.

"No reason to make it easier for them to pick us off. Follow me." Wirbald bounded off into the dark. They followed after him, his orb became their moving lighthouse. Thankfully, this time Wirbald adjusted his pace, making sure to move with the slowest among them. As they ran, Joel felt himself jumping at every sound in swishing smog. The screams, as unsettling as they were, had provided some degree of background noise. But now the miasma appeared to snarl at them.

The orb came to a sudden stop, and the rest of them with it. Wirbald pressed his hand forward and the orb rolled to the right on a curved trajectory.

"We follow this wall all the way around and continue circling inward until we reach the center." He looked to the rest of them, his cracked spectacles reflecting light.

"Understood?" There was no disagreement as they continued after him. Joel raised his hand to feel the invisible wall, the same he'd bumped into earlier. It wasn't like Wirbald's barriers, where it felt like a magnetic repulsion. The wall felt smooth and cool to the touch. While running, he gave the wall a shoulder check that would've made a hockey player proud. He heard a soft chuckle behind him as he bounced off.

"What are you doing?" Alis said as she jogged up next to him. A bemused smile was across her face.

"You thought you'd collapse the Sanctum by tackling the wall?" Joel shrugged.

"It doesn't hurt to check."

"I suppose it doesn't." The hint of her dimpled smile remained on her face.

"I've heard that breaking the border does work." She gave another chuckle.

"But I haven't heard of it being accomplished with an unarmed strike. My flames didn't do a lick, neither did Al's sword."

"This is crazy," Joel replied as he ran. His voice went softer, trying to avoid sounding condescending.

"Why'd you guys go in without us?"

"The screams," she whispered after a brief glance to her brother, who was running ahead of them.

"They sounded so desperate." Her emerald eyes dropped.

"Tricked like amateurs."

"Tricked for being good people? Screw that, shame on them." Joel spat the words out because of the bitter taste in his mouth. For a second, Alis' face froze in surprise before relaxing back into her cheery smile. Joel meant to return the smile until he felt the ground rumbling. The floor in front of them exploded, a wall of bronze sprouting between them and the rest of the group. Rocky debris pitter-pattered their glowing helms like angry hail. Before either of them could even shout, the same trembling repeated.

This time it was directly under them.

"Run!" he shouted. They bolted back the way they came while ground erupted behind them. One after another, the ripple of walls emerged from underfoot like chomping pistons. Breathless, Joel ran, trying to lose the chasing bronze walls in the black of the miasma.