Chapter 28: The Fragments Stir in the Ashes
Near the Crafter Mansion, the residence of Michael Crafter was located centrally to the Crafter Base. A figure moved stealthily through the shadows.
Snivrack, with a ragtag band of goblin cohorts in tow, slinked through the wreckage, his beady eyes scanning the battlefield. He had arrived at the designated rendezvous point, where his fellow goblins were supposed to be waiting. Instead, he found nothing but silence.
Something was wrong.
His keen senses caught movement in the distance -- two distinct points of conflict.
The first was marked by a sudden burst of thick mist, immediately followed by a flash of violent, crimson fire.
The second was more chaotic -- a catastrophic explosion of purple flames and debris erupting from what had once been a grand structure, The mansion.
Perched atop a half-collapsed roof, Snivrack narrowed his eyes, weighing his options.
His instincts screamed at him.
He was no fool. Charging into a fight blindly would be reckless, and he had no intention of throwing his life away needlessly. Motioning for his men to stay low, he concealed his mana, masking his presence to avoid drawing unwanted attention. It felt unnecessary, but something about this battlefield unsettled him.
Then, his eyes caught movement.
A woman in red.
A woman in a flowing red dress moved swiftly to the purple explosion, her presence unnerving Snivrack. He had planned to intervene, but her unnatural grace made him hesitate.
Who was she?
What was her purpose here?
He remained still, watching, waiting. The longer he observed, the more he realized this was no ordinary battle. Pieces were moving behind the scenes, forces at work far beyond his understanding.
more movement -- another eruption of flames to the far right, just as a faint white glow pulsed from within the mansion's ruined walls
Snivrack clicked his tongue in frustration.
Which fight should he engage in?
His mind raced. He had to choose wisely.
After deliberation, he gestured to his men and moved toward the mansion. It was closer, and whatever lay inside could hold more value than a mere skirmish outside.
Navigating through the shattered remains of the Ruined Room right from where he saw the purple flames erupt earlier, Snivrack tread carefully, his sharp gaze scanning for any signs of danger. The eerie glow of white mana flickered across the broken walls, casting long shadows.
Then, amidst the destruction, he found something unexpected.
The shattered remains of Mogrul Bonefang.
Snivrack stiffened.
Mogrul had been a warrior -- a valiant goblin captain far stronger than himself. And yet, here he was, reduced to lifeless remnants. A chill ran down Snivrack's spine.
This wasn't a battlefield anymore.
It was a graveyard.
He quickly knelt beside the fallen captain, searching through the remains. If there were any valuable items left behind, he would take them. His fingers brushed against metallic, half-buried tumble.
A compass.
It was broken, its needle spinning erratically, seemingly drawn to an unseen force.
Snivrack frowned. He had no idea what the device was for, but something about it unsettled him.
Meanwhile, Michael and Rukla were still locked in combat amidst the winding alleys on the outskirts of the mansion district. Now, Michael had been holding back, analyzing the goblins' tactics, watching for any hidden aces they might have kept up their sleeves. But things changed.
The explosive violet energy from Arc's location had shaken him. He had seen it while airborne with Sharla just moments earlier. Though concern gnawed at, he had let Sharla go ahead -- she was better suited for treating Arc's afflictions. After all, that was the reason he had hired her.
"Sending her ahead was the right decision," Michael muttered under his breath, his grip tightening around his sword. His eyes flared with a golden hue. "Let's deal with these goblins."
The gloves were off. Time was of the essence.
Releasing the restraints on his mana core, he activated his magic system -- a library of spells he had developed and refined over the years. It had been a long time since he had truly cut loose, but now was the moment to use everything at his disposal.
Magic systems are the foundation of mana arts, used by sorcerers, wizards, and other practitioners. Each school has its spellcasting method, but all require deep understanding. A mage could only conjure what they have perceived before, and the mana cost rose with the spell's scale and complexity.
Unlike basic casters from the Sorcery school, who often used wands or grimoires, Michael wielded his sword as a combat mage or combat-Sorcerer. His blade was practical and unadorned, with each part serving a purpose. The runes etched along its side shimmer when he channels mana, making the air around him pulse with power.
Michael pointed his sword at Rukla and smirked. "Dodge this -- if you can. Gleam."
Every action was deliberate, from channelling his mana into the blade to pointing it at Rukla while casting the spell. A beam of concentrated light erupted from the sword's tip, targeting Rukla. This was no simple counterspell; it was denser and sharper.
Rukla's eyes widened in fear as he realized he had no time to dodge. He crossed his daggers in front of him, bracing for impact. When the beam struck, searing heat surged through the metal, burning his palms. He cried out and dropped his weapons, trembling from the pain. He was again reminded of the truth -- he was utterly outclassed.
But surrender was not an option.
" Darn it, what power. My palms are burning." With gritted teeth, he barked an order. "Kill him! Use every spell you have!"
The goblins surrounding Michael lunged, casting crude but lethal magic. Fire, ice, and jagged arcs of lightning filled the alleyway.
Michael, unfazed, stabbed his sword into the ground, marking a complete circular arc around him with the tip of the blade etched into the earth. The keen edges of the blade sliced through the solid alley street with ease. Once the circle was over, he infused his blade with mana as before.
The mana surged outward from the tip, tracing the circular perimeter and glowing in both directions around Michael until the entire circle radiated light. As soon as it was complete, he invoked his next spell.
"Gyrate-Gleam."
The runes on his blade ignited, and a barrier of golden light flared to life around him. He twisted his sword in a rapid, spiralling motion, this made the Radial Light Barrier extend outward sending out a Spiral glowing shockwave that knocked the charging goblins off their feet, hurling them backwards with force.
"Surrender Now," Michael demanded, his voice calm yet commanding. "You're outclassed. Don't make this harder than it has to be. I am not a Savage Adventurer. If you Surrender Now I give you My word that you will be treated properly."
Rukla clenched his jaw, eyes darting between his scattered, groaning Hob Goblin Comrads. He knew the truth, but pride and desperation drove him forward. "Attack!" he gave a snarling roar, leading the charge himself this time.
Michael exhaled. "As you wish."
As the Goblins approached nearer he relinquished the hold on his sword leaving it piersed on vertically on the ground. He then raised both his palms their fingers crossed creating a tiger Claw pointing outward, his blade still embedded in the ground standing tall. His mana pulsed, expanding outward in a controlled wave. For instance, Rukla saw this as an opening he used his fire attribute mana to boost his speed to take advantage of the opening and lunged forward with his fiery sharp claws to grasp his foe. It was supposed to be a clean frontal Mele assault charged with fire attribute mana and his Momentum. But Fate was not in his Favour.
"Dominium Inflexionis."
Michael spoke calmly as if nothing had happened. Two barriers formed around him; a smaller one encasing him completely and pushing Ruklas back, while a larger one struck Ruklas, passing right through him.
The barriers surrounded both Michael and his enemies. Confused, the goblins watched their leader get thrown back as if by an invisible force, despite his chance to attack. The transparent barriers made it impossible for them to detect their presence without mana detection spells.
"What did you just do?!!!" Rukla Snared at Michael in anger as he immediately got back on his feet.
Michael remarked "I'll ask again. Surrender."
Rukla spat blood onto the ground. "Never."
Michael's expression hardened. "Then face the consequences."
He raised one palm toward Rukla. "Cogitans Lux."
His posture remained unchanged after casting the barriers. A beam of light shot from his palms, striking the hobgoblins and quickly taking down a few caught off guard. The beam hit the outer barrier walls, scattering and arcing in unpredictable directions.
Rukla barely dodged the beams, but it was a mistake. They ricocheted through the enclosed space, transforming into a deadly crossfire. One by one, the goblins fell, unable to defend themselves against the rapid, precise light. Soon, only Rukla stood, using the last mana to create armour around himself, his chest heaving and his face pale with horror.
Michael took a step forward. "This is your last chance."
The hobgoblin stated, but seeing all his allies fall, he dropped to his knees, dispelling the last embers of his mana reserves as his armour shattered. "I... I surrender."
Michael watched him for a long moment before lowering his guard. With a snapping of his fingers on both his hands simultaneously, the barriers dissipated into shimmering motes of light.
"You should have done that sooner," Michael said, his tone edged with disappointment. "Your allies might have still been alive if you had done that."
Rukla, trembling, suddenly lunged, a hidden dagger glinting in his grasp. "Die, you monster -- !"
Michael had expected this. Without a word, he raised his index finger and fired a concentrated beam of light without chanting any spell. The energy severed Rukla's arm at the elbow in an instant, the heat cauterizing the wound before a single drop of blood could spill.
The hobgoblin screamed, cradling the smoking stump where his arm had been.
Michael stepped closer, voice low and even Colder. "Monster you say. If I weren't in the mood to take you prisoner, I would have ended this much sooner. Perhaps then I would have deserved that moniker. But this... this is but child's play. barely counting as a warmup." Rukla was stunned in shock both from fatigue and pain. He barely had any energy to move let alone Groan in pain. At that moment Michael got back on his feet and pointed his right palm at Rukla. "Although this is not my speciality restraining you takes priority here." The earth began to shift around Rukla creating a binding Restrains around him restricting his mobility entirely. "I'll come back later stay put until then."
With that he tucked his blade into his sheath and turned away as Rukla was slumped and restrained to the ground, giving faint groans in agony barely audible to hear. The battle was over. Now, he had to regroup with Sharla and Arc.
Time was running out.
As the Distance between Michael and Rukla increased he disappeared in the Shadows of Twilight.
Arc had gained newfound control over his mana. Though his mana poisoning remained an issue, the immediate threat to his life had diminished -- as long as he took the necessary precautions. The pain still lingered, but it was manageable.
Sharla and Arc were preparing to move to a safer location when Sharla suddenly halted, her senses heightened. Earlier, she cast a basic short-range detection spell to sense abnormal movements within a defined perimeter. Though it was not sophisticated and could only detect vibrations, it had conserved her mana, which was now nearly exhausted.
She turned to Arc, her voice low. "Something's moving nearby."
Arc, though still recovering, understood the urgency. After quickly tending to his wounds, the two silently made their way toward the source of the disturbance, navigating through the debris-strewn hallways. Their path led them back to the ruined chamber, where the battle had reached its climax earlier. What they discovered caused them to halt abruptly.
A hobgoblin -- lean, sinewy, and far more composed than the others they had encountered -- was carefully inspecting the wreckage. His gaze swept over the remains of Mogrul Blackfang, but his expression did not waver. It was as if he had expected to find the corpse.
Recognizing the gravity of the situation, Sharla dared to modify the parameters of her detection spell to extend its range. This action depleted more of her already scarce mana, but she required additional information. For a fleeting moment, she detected something -- there were additional goblins stationed beyond their visual range.
She gestured discreetly to Arc, indicating the number of enemies. Arc knew immediately -- engaging them was out of the question. He was in no condition to fight, and Sharla was nearly spent. Their only option was to remain hidden.
Then, the goblin's attention shifted. He knelt and picked up something from the debris -- a small, broken object. Even in the dim light, Arc recognized its shape as a square-shaped tool.
At that moment, Arc felt a faint vibration in his left pocket. The fragment he had in his possession -- the one that had reacted strangely during their battle -- was stirring again. Before, he had been too overwhelmed to notice the strange behaviour in the Fight, too focused on survival. But now, with his mind clearer, he realized the fragment was trying to move. It was responding to the object in the goblin's hand.
"Could it be Linked to the Fragment or Perhaps it's also a fragment like mine? If that's the case do fragments possess a Homing Function?"
Arc's pulse quickened. That item -- whatever it was -- was connected to his fragment. His mind raced, piecing together the clues. The fragment hadn't changed after being left alone because it had remained within range. Even when he and Sharla had moved, the distance between him and the object had not exceeded four or five meters probably if that was a fragment as Arc surmised.
But before Arc could think of a plan, a flash of blinding light erupted outside the mansion. Even from their position, the sheer brilliance of the glow was impossible to ignore. Luckily their downcast shadows were not visible to the enemy as the flash of light passed.
Sharla's eyes widened. "Michael."
The hobgoblin, identified by his insignia as Snivrack, also noticed the light. His posture stiffened, and for the first time, a hint of urgency crossed his face. He turned to his hidden forces, issuing a sharp command.
"Withdraw. Now."
Without hesitation, the goblins obeyed, melting into the shadows as quickly as they had appeared. Within moments, the ruined room was silent again.
Sharla let out a quiet sigh of relief, lowering her shoulders. Arc, still tense, glanced at her, noting her reaction.
"For now," she murmured, "we're safe."
***