Aoi had managed to trigger the gunpowder firecracker, but she could barely form a coherent thought. The creature’s mere presence was overwhelming, as if every one of its movements were trying to drill straight into her brain. Now she understood what people meant when they spoke of the need for high mental resistance: her mind kept flooding with happy memories from childhood and adolescence. The dream of giving her family a dignified life, of earning recognition on that continent, of proving to those clan idiots that she was far more than they had ever believed.

  She slammed her fist into the ground, then slapped herself hard enough for the sound to echo across the area. At last, she was able to lift her head. There was only a small cut on her arm, yet it had apparently been enough to leave her in a trance. The creature before her was something she could not fully comprehend.

  A white, quadrupedal figure, easily over two meters tall. Where its head should have been hovered a sphere of light, bathing the surroundings in a terrifying incandescence. Nearby residents fled into their homes, slamming windows and doors shut to avoid being seen by the dream eater. From the creature’s head extended two kinds of elongated appendages: the blades that had put Aoi into a trance, and a pair of suckers reaching toward Elryn’s head, siphoning something invisible as the girl tried to pull away, her body refusing to respond.

  Aoi clapped her hands. The creature turned toward her, and from its arms burst a concentrated shot of spiritual energy that struck her squarely, sending her flying through the air. Elryn collapsed to the ground, trembling. Aoi thought she might be crying, but she wasn’t—Elryn was coughing, teeth clenched in rage, as if forcing herself to feel the pain. The dream eater dissolved… only to re-form on its feet an instant later.

  Aoi wiped the blood from her arm and smeared it across her hands.

  It’s just a drop, but I’d better make use of it, she thought as wolf-shaped figures emerged from her palms. When they gave us the uniform, they handed us four things: the firecrackers, our chosen weapon, a cyanide pill in case of capture, and a white iron knife—an export from my homeland. I was surprised to see it listed as basic equipment, but it’s obvious now it was meant to be used against dream eaters.

  The wolves charged the creature, which let out a shriek so horrible Aoi felt her eardrums vibrate. They growled and lunged at its ethereal form, tearing at it; the creature seemed genuinely startled at taking damage. The blades began to swing wildly, shredding the wolves one by one. Aoi seized the opening and closed the distance. The creature hurled its blades, but she dodged them with a leap. She landed a punch wrapped in spiritual energy, forcing it back, and raised the knife to drive it into its chest—then froze.

  From the glowing body emerged the youthful, drowsy face of a human child.

  Son of a bitch… Aoi thought.

  A lash of the creature’s tail sent her flying several meters backward. She rolled across the ground and sprang back to her feet. The dream eater began circling cautiously; it knew now that Aoi could hurt it. She spent a few seconds thinking, searching for a way to attack without endangering the children.

  It keeps them inside as a permanent food reserve. Disgusting… but they’re still physical. If I strike before it can react—

  She brought her hands together to form another burst of spiritual pressure, this time positioning the knife between her fingers. She aimed for the creature’s chest, which immediately displayed the child’s face, tense and afraid. Aoi sighed, then suddenly raised her hands, redirecting her aim toward the head—and fired.

  The creature screeched as it saw the knife shoot forward at full speed, unable to move the child quickly enough to shield itself. Aoi smiled… until the weapon was intercepted midair by a devastating slash.

  She clenched her teeth as she saw one of the silver guards crash to the ground, her knife sent spinning off into nothingness. The dream eater looked as confused as she was, until the man turned and unleashed another slash, forcing the creature to leap aside. Only then did Aoi notice he was wielding a greatsword of white steel—something that must have cost a fortune.

  She looked up and saw the priest from before standing beside the other guard. His gaze lingered on her for a moment before twisting into a sneer of disgust.

  “How does the guard even allow that cursed race to enlist?” the priest said, his voice low.

  Aoi was about to hurl an insult back at him, but stopped short when the guard’s sword grazed past her face.

  She jumped back and blew into her fist; a cloud of smoke spread across the area. She rushed to grab Elryn before the creature could attack again. Her breathing was ragged.

  Elryn felt her strength draining away, darkness slowly swallowing her whole.

  “Where the hell are the others?” Aoi demanded.

  A flash of light illuminated the area, and a gust of air dispersed the smoke. Somehow, the priest and the guard were already on the ground.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Aoi roared, lifting Elryn into her arms. “We have to kill the dream eater! Why are you attacking me?”

  The priest clicked his tongue. The serene expression he wore before his followers was gone entirely. He looked at the dream eater, which seemed to be weighing its escape, though it remained pinned under the white-steel warrior’s gaze.

  “Do not dare address me, kenari. Your kind should not be here; you do not even share in our lord’s blessing,” he said coldly.

  Aoi raised an eyebrow, confused.

  “I don’t think you understand,” he continued. “Release that woman and surrender yourself for execution.”

  Like hell I will, Aoi thought.

  Elryn gave her a light tap on the shoulder. They exchanged a glance; the human simply asked her to let her stand on her own. Aoi nodded.

  “Are you all right?” the kenari asked.

  “Yes… I think so. But I feel a lot of anger right now, for some reason… and a strange emptiness in my chest…” Elryn replied at last.

  Aoi didn’t fully understand what she meant, but decided she would ask later. The priest sighed, and the pearlescent guard began advancing toward them, while his companion kept his focus fixed on the dream eater.

  “How strong are they?” Aoi asked, shifting into a fighting stance.

  Elryn took a step back, raising her knives with trembling hands.

  “Very strong. They’re zombies—they fight without fear of being dismembered, basically,” she said.

  Aoi let out an irritated groan. “But I don’t think the others will take much longer to arrive.”

  No sooner had she finished speaking than another firecracker shot up nearby, flooding the street with light. Curtains parted as people peeked out to watch the gunpowder rain down in sparks. Aoi looked toward the source of the blast: Thaelen stood atop a rooftop, visibly confused by the scene. His gaze shifted from the dream eater to the pearlescent guards. The priest glanced at him sideways, showing not the slightest hint of emotion.

  The druid didn’t hesitate. He drew his bow, and with inhuman speed, three arrows flew. The guards deflected them easily; the third passed straight through the dream eater without causing any harm.

  “Wait, Thaelen-san! The children are inside the creature!” Aoi shouted.

  Thaelen shuddered and nodded, visibly relieved that his arrow had passed cleanly through the entity.

  “Where is Aedran?” he asked.

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  Aoi shrugged. The druid clicked his tongue in frustration.

  The priest pointed authoritatively at Thaelen. Ignoring Aoi and Elryn, the guard hurled his spear like a javelin. Thaelen leapt just before the weapon shattered part of the roof; he heard civilians screaming from inside. He looked back at the warrior as the man opened his hand and the spear flew back to him.

  “Deal with the druid and the dream eater. These women are not a threat,” the priest ordered.

  The warriors nodded and rushed toward their targets. Aoi clenched her teeth; she wanted to show him just how wrong he was, but she had spent most of her energy on earlier attacks. If she could recover even a little, it would be better.

  The priest gave them one last cold look before turning away and raising his arm—just as Marreck burst from the shadows, slashing at the old man’s golden bracer. It barely shifted a few millimeters.

  Marreck’s eyes widened in surprise before a punch slammed into his stomach, forcing him back.

  “Well, I’ll be damned… the old man can fight,” Marreck said, charging again.

  He unleashed a pair of wild slashes. The priest dodged them effortlessly and answered with two sharp blows that Marreck barely managed to block. He was skilled, but lacked real strength.

  Meanwhile, Thaelen struggled to keep up with the warrior—not because the man was especially fast, but because he fought without any regard for his own safety, unafraid of injury. The druid growled as the spear grazed his arm. His familiar instinctively spat fire, but the warrior pierced straight through it without slowing. The white armor absorbed the flames as if they didn’t exist.

  A kick struck Thaelen, sending him flying, dazed. His hearing cut out for a second—long enough for him not to hear the dream eater pass by. One of its tentacles brushed his forehead.

  Thaelen blinked.

  He was in the druidic forest.

  Trees hundreds of meters tall rose around him. The Drynari emerged from between the trunks, greeting one another. Birds filled the air with song, and his hearing was perfectly intact. Before him stood the Drynari king, and behind him, a colossal mass that turned toward Thaelen with a moss-covered smile. The king extended a ring, speaking words Thaelen couldn’t fully understand.

  “A childish dream…” he murmured, lifting his gaze.

  The pure blue sky darkened to black, and everything was swallowed by an oppressive shadow.

  He returned to reality with damp eyes. The creature was moving away, stealing the dream he’d once had when he was nothing more than a child. Thaelen watched it retreat, failing to notice the warrior who slammed a punch into his face and sent him crashing to the ground.

  The fox leapt from his shoulders and ran. Thaelen tried to rise, but his arms wouldn’t respond. The zombie, for his part, didn’t even flinch at brushing against the dream eater; he simply kept advancing.

  Marreck threw a couple more strikes. The priest ducked, slipped between his arms, and grabbed his cloak, hurling him straight into the path of the dream eater, which bowled him over as it passed. Marreck hit the ground, stunned. He hadn’t suffered the entity’s effect, but the energy had rattled his bones all the same.

  The priest stepped closer, drawing a knife from within his ceremonial robes.

  Aoi looked up, alarmed, ready to intervene… when a voice echoed through the alleyways.

  “And then you wonder why I call you a cultist, old man? You literally just pulled out a knife covered in ceremonial markings.”

  The scrape of a black sword dragged along the walls. Aedran emerged from the darkness at an unhurried pace, rolling his neck. The priest turned, frowning.

  Aedran fixed his reddish eyes on Thaelen and the warrior. The zombie beside Thaelen looked up, alarmed—it was the first genuine reaction he had shown. The bearer of the white-steel sword turned toward Aedran, and even the dream eater paused for a few seconds upon realizing it was no longer being pursued.

  The gramorguian sighed in annoyance.

  “Well… looks like they’ve never seen a warrior before,” he remarked with obvious boredom as he advanced.

  Aoi shivered as she saw strange smoke seep from the armor. The cables running through the camellium frame glowed faintly; the latch holding the greenish stone was open, allowing energy to flow freely. The runes etched into the armor shone with an unsettling green hue.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he added. “I was on the other side of the city.”

  Other of Veltraxis’s design biggest problem: to move from one point of the ring to another, one had to pass through the central circles separating them—a journey that could take hours if you were poorly positioned.

  The second firecracker lit up the sky.

  Aedran and Lyara were running at full speed. The apprentice was starting to lose patience, wondering if that explosion meant the situation had spiraled out of control. She glanced at Aedran with concern, struggling to keep up.

  “Hey!” Lyara shouted as she vaulted over a couple of walls and trespassed onto private property.

  Aedran turned his head, distracted.

  “You have to get there now!” she continued. “If it escapes, who knows what’ll happen to the children.”

  “And what do you want me to do? They’re in a Fourth Circle district, from what I can tell!” Aedran snapped.

  “Use the armor!”

  They both came to a dead stop. Lyara had managed to keep pace, but her body was nowhere near as resilient as Aedran’s. He looked at her, confused.

  “Why should I—?”

  “Yes, I know,” she cut in. “You don’t like camelium and it’s dangerous, but think about it—if we don’t act fast, the Church could take the kids, and I don’t want that on my conscience.”

  She struggled to catch her breath; a sharp pain stabbed through her stomach.

  “It’s not red camelium” she added, “and it’s one of the requirements for forming the group.”

  “Not my problem,” Aedran replied.

  Lyara sighed and thought for a few seconds.

  “Do you want humanity to stop depending on mages?” she asked.

  Aedran turned with a look of disgust, already anticipating where this was going.

  “Then prove we don’t need them to solve our own problems.”

  Aedran stood still for a few seconds before letting out a groan heavy with irritation. He turned and, reluctantly, opened the valve that kept the armor sealed. He knew that sooner or later he would have to use camellium energy; that was why he had agreed to wear it, even if he avoided activating it whenever possible. And, irritating as it was to admit, Lyara was right this time.

  “If this explodes, it’s your fault,” Aedran growled.

  Energy began coursing through the cables. The runes lit up, and a surge of power shook his body.

  He remembered feeling something similar once. He had been just a child when he met a seal mage who engraved one into his back. Even then, he’d been able to run as fast as a Mindcat. Now, that power flowed through him again, wrapping around his body.

  His gramorguian senses sharpened. It was only a prototype armor, so he hadn’t expected much… yet he could clearly feel his muscles strengthening. An almost instinctive urge to test that energy flooded him, making him forget—if only for a moment—the revulsion he felt toward magic.

  It was a basic enhancement seal. He took his stance, looked toward the source of the firecrackers, and simply ran.

  “Not bad…” he murmured as he moved across the battlefield with apparent slowness.

  They had ended up in a semi-open area; fighting there was bound to be difficult. He felt his legs tremble slightly, but ignored it.

  “As I expected, I’m the one bearing the load,” he continued, thinking aloud in a low voice. “Back then, when I was a child, the mage carried it. That’s why I never got tired of running, while he looked like he was about to die of exhaustion. But now there’s no mage… so the cost has to go somewhere: the bearer.”

  He clicked his tongue.

  “How irritating. Still, I’ll admit it—it’s a stroke of genius on the part of those lab idiots.”

  Aedran was oblivious to everything happening around him, focused entirely on his own deductions. It had taken him less than ten minutes to cross a considerable portion of the city. He couldn’t help glancing at the ground as he moved, intoxicated by a sense of power he had never experienced before.

  “I wonder if, with this armor, I could finally beat that idiot Aiden…”

  The priest began to grow uneasy as he watched the gramorguian approach.

  What the hell is that smoke? And why does he look so distracted? he thought. After all, technocamelium was not public knowledge. It doesn’t matter. He may be the strongest man in the city, but the pearled guards have special equipment. They were trained to overcome that disrespectful brute.

  “Kill him!” the priest ordered.

  He completely forgot about the dream eater, which began to retreat slowly. The zombies turned in unison toward Aedran.

  The gramorguian paid them no attention. He kept walking, murmuring to himself. The spear-wielding warrior charged at him at a speed far greater than anything he had shown against Thaelen, catching the druid off guard. He leapt and aimed straight for Aedran, who still did not react.

  What’s happening? Why do I feel this sense of dread? the priest wondered. The warrior raised his spear, ready to impale him. It doesn’t matter. I am God’s envoy. The chosen one meant to behold Him. Aedran cannot overcome my divine will.

  The spear came down, dragging the weight of the pearled armor with it. Aedran still did not move.

  “What’s wrong, Aedran? No sarcasm today?” the priest shouted, nearly euphoric at the thought of seeing fall the man who had scorned his gracious invitation. Such a waste, he thought, of that glorious white hair.

  Aedran lifted his gaze, mildly interested. The spear was mere millimeters from his face.

  His crimson eyes flared.

  A green aura wrapped around him once more.

  With absurd speed, he slipped past the thrust, seized the warrior’s head in midair, and in a single motion slammed his face into the ground. The impact shattered the concrete beneath them and crushed the steel of the armor with terrifying ease.

  Silence fell.

  Everyone stood frozen as the zombie lay unconscious on the ground. A chill ran down the priest’s spine; cold sweat soaked the back of his neck as he began to step back. He hadn’t even fully processed what he had just witnessed.

  But he understood when he felt that crimson gaze lock onto him… and then shift to the dream eater.

  End of Chapter 14.

  Patreon: 14 chapters in advance