Chương 62: Lamb and Wolves

On the other side of the door, Jordan Yu became a different person. Well… at least he dressed like a different person. No longer in the simple tunic and trousers of a lowly Imperial recruit. Nor the funky Dragon Ball Z t-shirt of a 21st-century Earthling. But something much more ancient than either of them, taking him back to a Stormvast before the Imperium was even a thing.

Put simply, Jordan had become a wartime general riding into battle, complete with an ornate armored vest and a helmet adorned by two peacock feathers reaching for the heavens. Exactly which era, he had no way to tell (nor were there any gods around to offer educated guesses). But he had some un educated guesses of his own, based on a very recent conversation in the back of a wagon. And he was riding. On horseback. Not a figure of speech, nor was the pace anything to scoff at.

The grass beneath him became a green blur as his warhorse glided forth with powerful strides—a bona fide case of Rushing Steppe, as it were. Wait, hang on. But I can't ride horses! Never rode one as an Earthling, and even here, we recruits haven't got to that part of our training yet! Athletics DC 12: success Acrobatics DC 12: success Nature DC 12: success Animal Handling DC 12: success Performance DC 12: success Game mechanics to the rescue!

Jordan might not have learned to ride a horse yet, but he had worked on himself diligently since he'd come into Vesselia's game world. That diligence paid off now in the form of passive checks, spread across five different attributes to reward a well-rounded approach to [Blessings]-farming! It felt a bit like cheating, but Jordan wasn't complaining. He hadn't gone through all this trouble only to fall off his ride the moment the main show had begun.

As such, he held onto his seat, letting the horse guide him as much as he it. Bit by bit, Jordan's perception widened and zoomed out, from worrying about staying on horseback and onto taking in his surroundings. Investigation DC 10: success On either side of him were his two partymates, also on horseback. Only, something about them too had changed. Foxhill had gone and spec'd fully into his Jedi horse-archer persona. Smart leather armor, patterned riding boots, hair tied up in braids and billowing in the wind.

On this version of him, his mischievous smile was tempered by the weight of authority and responsibility. Despite the makeover, the man was still undoubtedly Foxhill in Jordan's eyes. Yet the system didn't seem too convinced. As evidenced by: <Character Sheet> The Pathfinder, Lv. 20 (MAX) The shortest [Character Sheet] Jordan had ever seen! Almost like the system itself didn't have a clear grasp of what was what and who was who.

Interestingly, this version of Foxhill had hit the level cap, and he kind of looked the part, too. Then there was Canyon. Her makeover was less about looks and more about aura. She still wore her trademark dark-gray everything to cover up her features, but the eyes that did shine through that trademark rectangle somehow looked a little older—and blazed a little hotter. And what was more… <Character Sheet> The Chronicler, Lv. 30 (MAX) What in the world?

How had a humble grasslander from Amber Lake hit the extended level cap of 30, normally reserved for Elder races, mythical monsters, and—in this expansion, at least—cauldron bearers? Which of the three categories did the Chronicler belong to? Or, could it be that she was an entirely separate character type unto herself? Oh, how Jordan would have liked to steer his warhorse closer to the Chronicler's, strike up a conversation and get to the bottom of this latest mystery! But alas, the game was already afoot.

And it was all a novice rider could do to hold on for dear life, as he and his party sped toward their objective. Said objective raced ahead of them, borne by a head start in the form of a raging tornado. A winged creature in resplendent green. Elegant beauty vying with savage fury. It was a sight to behold. A sight to whip anyone into a state of [Frenzy]. <Character Sheet> The Aeromancer, Lv. 30 (MAX) This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Status: Frenzied The party and their warhorses gave chase, even as the winds whipped all about and threatened to knock them off course. They'd come into the game in medias res, yet their objective was clear; the sense of urgency was shared and palpable. And for good reason. For before them all rose the Stormveil —as dark and ominously solid here as it would be in the Radiant Vigor Era. If the party had any hope of reaching the Aeromancer—of catching up to her—they had to do it before she got to the Stormveil.

Before she left this world behind and moved onto another. [Crossing the Void] had thrown all kinds of weirdness into the mix. But the essence of what Jordan had to accomplish couldn't be simpler. It's a game of Wolf and Lambs, he realized. Except, right now, it's probably more accurate to call it Lamb and Wolves. The [Frenzied] Lamb flew, leaving an impenetrable storm in her wake. Three Wolves gave chase, even as they began to see that the odds were stacked heavily against them.

The humans and their trusted animal companions were unable to close the gap on a spiritkind in the prime of her powers. In fact, it took the party everything just not to fall behind. That was, until… The Frenzied Aeromancer cast: Greater Whirlwind. A smaller vortex broke off from the main tornado, then split into three more mini-tornadoes—one for each pursuer. Any sane person would've run the other way, seeing them as homing missiles in wind magic form.

But not so, this Jordan, himself already whipped into a let's-just-see-what-happens kind of [Frenzy]. Insight DC 13: success Arcana DC 13: success" Jump!" Jordan led by example, willing his steadfastly loyal warhorse to leap into the nearest [Whirlwind]. He couldn't see whether his partymates had followed suit, but he kept the faith… and was rewarded for his resolve as— Persuasion DC 13: success — the three of them were reunited inside the tornado! Yes. Jordan's read of the Aeromancer's intention had been correct.

Far from being missiles, the [Whirlwinds] had instead been invitations, sucking in the pursuers and spitting them back out closer to their goal. Evidently, the Lamb wasn't done playing with her Wolves. Despite being caught right inside the worst of the storm, the party somehow kept up the chase. The horses—surely the best damn specimens this land had ever produced—continued to run as if nothing had happened, now quite literally galloping in mid-air.

They'd had some help defying gravity, of course, from none other than the fleeing Aeromancer. And with the prize right within their sights, the party responded accordingly. The Pathfinder cast: Greater Energy Arrow. The Chronicler cast: Greater Manipulate Ink. The Pathfinder let fly a fusillade of multiple lightsaber [Arrows], shot with the one motion! Yet the Lv. 30 Chronicler's spell was somehow even more impressive.

For its magic was to make the words on a page come true, in this case by pelting the Aeromancer with debris pulled directly from her own tornado! The Frenzied Aeromancer lost: 34 HP, 6 HP, 3 HP, 28 HP, 4 HP, 6 HP, … Yikes, Jordan couldn't help but wince. Are we sure this is the way to reach out to her? But he needed not have worried. Indeed, he should've known better. Because here in Vesselia, spells were the most direct form of communication between spellcasters.

As if to underscore the point, the Aeromancer responded with an ear-piercing shriek. A shriek of laughter, of joy for a game well-played. And to show that she wouldn't take the beating lying down, she spread her wings and… The Frenzied Aeromancer cast: Storm of Feathers. Plumage of verdant green. So beautiful yet terrifying. The scale now tipped decidedly toward the latter, as individual feathers exploded from the Aeromancer's person, to then fly as razor-sharp blades at the pursuing party.

The Pathfinder lost: 11 HP, 8 HP, 9 HP, … The Chronicler lost: 8 HP, 12 HP, 7 HP, … Not even Jordan was exempt from the punishment, despite the fact that he'd yet to lift a finger. The feathers flew in lightning fast, cutting up not just him but the horse he'd ridden in on. The Gatekeeper lost: 9 HP, 10 HP, 13 HP, … Horses neighed. Humans bled. Yet the Aeromancer wasn't done. Her [Storm] kept on coming, along with her shrieks.

More feathers sharpened into knives, daring the Wolves to get creative if they wanted a crack at the Lamb. Well it was a good thing, then, that at least one Wolf among them was a creator by vocation. A sudden and powerful surge of white-hot flames. In an instant, fire burned the [Storm of Feathers] down to cinders. It also brought up the ambient temperature, turning the eye of the tornado into a toasty oven.

Perception DC 20: failure Jordan glanced over at the Chronicler, desperate to ascertain the truth of what had just happened. Another cast of [Manipulate Ink]? Or a different spell entirely? Either way, it had been stealth- cast, going undetected and unrecorded by the system. Whatever the Chronicler had cast and however she'd cast it, she'd wanted to keep the nature of her spell secret. But this was no time to dwell on it.

For the Chronicler had single-handedly turned the tide of battle, and she now looked to press the advantage. In her hand, she'd produced a length of rope—smuggled in from the other side of the [Void]. Which she then used as fodder for her pre-[Copied] spell. The Chronicler cast: Manipulate Ropes. A momentary distraction was all that was needed for the Chronicler's [Rope] to slip onto one of the Aeromancer's trailing feet. The rope then dangled tantalizingly in the air.

Tantalizingly close to the Gatekeeper, who so far had done nothing but ride straight into the wind. Well, Jordan hadn't come this far just to suck his thumb and watch all the spellcasters have fun. It was time he made the decisive move—to put an end to this chase that had gone on for far too long. [Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution DC 25 (Very Hard)] Jump.