Chương 15: 8B. Where Spirits Linger

"Scouts," the boss announced, pointing at a collapsed skyscraper ahead. The top half had broken off from the rest and almost fallen free. It leaned heavily on a nearby building, which had tilted significantly. Spidery humanoid figures, smaller and more frail-looking than the pair they had fought earlier.

"We're close." Since Sam's mother used to work nearby, he visited Wembley High Street regularly. It once had a large South Asian and African population. Except for the big chains, the businesses there primarily served them. Since the bank where his mother worked closed early on Saturdays, Sam and his father would drive down to Wembley and sample the different cuisines. Occasionally, they'd sit in the park, eat sandwiches, and sit in silence. They were some of his fondest memories with his father.

Now, he struggled to recognize Wembley after the cataclysm's warping. The park had also overgrown to the point of resembling a dense jungle. The roots of the now-titanic trees had spread across the surrounding roads, destroying them and pulling nearby houses from their foundations. Many had crumbled. Some still stood at awkward angles. A cocktail of sweet and spicy aromas filled the air, drawing Sam's eyes to luminous fruits hanging from the branches. Viscous fluid dripped from them.

He wondered whether it was a trap for carnivorous plant monsters or food for the wilds, and whether local threats had driven away the fauna that feasted on them. They had passed a couple of more obvious spirit sites during their final approach. A bipedal creature with mange, patchy long fur, and deer antlers stood ripping at the ground around the old fire station. A machine softly rumbled within, and exhaust-pipe-like growths had grown out of the ceiling. They vibrated, and the ends glowed red.

Most old machines and engines had long died. Only the few powered by essences and maintained by secretive organizations still functioned within the cities. Sam was sure it was one of the few industrial spirits he had heard about. Only a few had emerged when he was still at Trinity, and information regarding them was scarce. Meanwhile, there was nothing around the Wembley Medical Center. Pulsating flora had grown out of one of the top-floor windows.

Nothing supported it, yet the vines kept growing, wrapping around branches that weren't there. Bits seemed to stray too far from the invisible support structure, wither, and fall, but the plant matter kept growing, renewing itself. Sam wondered whether it was a spirit with nature, life, or healing domains. If so, it would've been perfect for Sophie.

"You're with me," the boss said, grabbing Sam's arm and pulling him close behind her. She tapped the palm-sized sapphire hanging between her breasts. Instead of light, darkness spread from the stone. She reached into the puddle of black, sinking her whole hand into it, and pulled out a weapon Sam could only describe as a short, single-barreled shotgun encased in dense geometrical armor.

"Have you ever used one of these before?" Sam shook his head and took the firearm. He almost dropped it, surprised by the weight. It was far too heavy for him to wield it with one hand. A pair of essences sat along the forearm-length rectangular barrel. Runic symbols covered the spine and the sides. He could sense the ether pulsing and swelling within the weapon, excited to break free.

"This is a handcannon. It's powerful and best used at close to mid-range."

"Far more reliable than the flimsy machete," Fred said.

"Beware of the recoil and recharge time, though." This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"It's not made for mortal physiques," Iris added.

"The shots use the essence's ether, but if you're not careful, it might drain you, too. Wait at least ten seconds between shots to let the things charge up—""I doubt that's a concern right now," the boss said.

"You're going to stick close to me and shouldn't have to use it at all. But if you must, just point it away from yourself and me before you fire it. Alright?"

"Got it," Sam said, immediately feeling a lot less anxious. The power radiating from the weapon left him feeling strong and secure.

"Bent knees and weight equally distributed," Fred advised, adopting a horse stance. He mimed holding the hand cannon's barrel across his stomach.

"Hold it low across your midriff for best results. Not a lot of aiming needed." The ground shifted around Fred's feet. Bits of pavement and road traveled up him, gathering around his legs like fragments of armor. He gained half a foot before the stones reached his waist. It took about a minute to cover him completely. Unlike Stone Armor techniques Sam had seen used in the academy training grounds, Fred didn't just look like a mound of uneven rocks.

Instead, the way the armor formed around him gave him a more bear-like appearance. Iris pulled calcified crimson chunks from her pockets. They liquified in her hands, coating her forearms and elbows. The covered areas thickened, developing jagged edges. Her claws also grew larger and sharper than before. Intricate carvings covered them. Writing in an unknown tongue also appeared around her eyes and ran down her cheeks like crimson tears. The boss also made preparations.

She fell to her knees and pressed her palms to the ground. Damp patches appeared before globules of water floated out of the nearby cracks. They solidified as dense lenses. Not only the three that rotated around her torso, but smaller ones also formed, floating above her shoulders and legs at a variety of angles. Sam had held onto his pan lid. It was meant for a large frying pan, to cook enough eggs or meat for a small group at once.

He doubted it would survive more than a couple of hits, if at all, but it was better than nothing. The wraps he used to stabilize his wrists were enough to strap the lid to his right forearm, letting him hold the handcannon comfortably. He held the barrel with his left and the grip with his right, with an index finger ready to move to the trigger when necessary. The party didn't have to go far before the first enemies appeared. The scouts had returned, bringing along a horde of companions.

They moved on all fours and looked like the spike thrower they had dealt with before. However, the approaching specimens were beefier and didn't rip the spines growing from their backs to use as projectiles. He didn't see signs of orange flames either. The mutations aren't random. Spidery limbs. Spines. Perhaps the possibility of upgrades is limited, and they somehow merge with Vessels or domains, granting unique abilities. I need to start keeping notebooks again.

Sam didn't get much time to think about things as the battle began. The ground rippled as Fred moved on all fours, looking like a bear running along the shallows of a riverbank. It appeared slower than sliding along the ground. However, the waves spreading outward from him slowed as they traveled, merging and growing. Fred met the horde head-on, and the wave of Earth crashed as he made contact, flinging foes, crushing, and trapping them.

Meanwhile, Iris shot past them all, running through the air above Fred and the horde. Sam didn't know where she was going, and it wasn't the time to ask. He guessed she prioritized key, powerful targets while the vanguard took care of the small fry. The boss kept using spells with long casting times, leaving the gems alone. Fist-sized, dense spheres of light solidified above their heads. Looking at them directly hurt. She didn't release their ether.

Instead, the woman marched confidently along the smooth trail Fred had left behind. Sam stuck close behind her, handcannon raised. Heart racing.