144. Fuchsia Flames

The Stalker increased his bulk while Lukas went in the opposite direction, making himself as light as possible. Relying on spellcasting alone wasn’t going to be possible. He didn’t have enough clones in his path to deter the mage and her backup. Instead, he hoped the strategy of making them go for Bowie and then eliminating them one at a time would work.

“Lightning is fine,” he told the Stalker, creating channels of Quicksilver through the Shadowsteel armor and sending lightning through them. “But no sound magic. We shouldn’t take Bowie’s spell for granted.”

“Got it. Don’t risk interrupting his barrier. You’re the spell man anyway. Shadows and lightning are more than enough for me. Who goes for the mage? Me or you?”

“Me. Distract her protectors.”

The Stalker shot forward, going straight for the mage. Unsurprisingly, the four males changed course to block his path. Their leader skidded to a halt, and her eyes adopted a violent pink glow. Lukas watched hands dance through several distinct shapes, almost blurring as they moved. He also moved toward her but attempted to go around the large tent ahead, hoping to break the line of sight for a moment before traveling through the shadows.

When Lukas emerged from cover and saw the mage again, there were more of her. Five copies of her stood in a circle, rapidly moving their hands through more hand signs. A sixth and seventh stood on either side, eyes scanning their surroundings.

What the hell? Another cloner.

Increasing his eyes’ arcane sensitivity revealed that the pair watching the mage’s surroundings were illusions. The remaining five didn’t feel like illusions or match the clones’ arcane signatures. Instead, they all felt the same with equal amounts of dragonfire circulating within them.

Descended from an illusory dragon?

Lukas didn’t get the time to figure things out. One of the five standing in a circle raised a hand at him, and a sphere of fuchsia flames shot at him. He didn’t take the time to figure out whether they were real or fake and let himself drop into the tent’s shadows. The cold blackness wrapped and writhed around Lukas before spitting him out at his desired destination: a Shadowsteel spike the Stalker had fired and missed.

It was just left of one of the illusory watchers. Much to his disappointment, it spotted him straight away. Two of the five casting copies launched spells at him. One let loose a fireball. The other released a compressed, crystalline lance. The first exploded impotently against a tent, dispersing ineffectively. The other shattered on the floor just to his right, showering him with pink, glassy shrapnel. One piece stuck to him, vibrating rapidly and heating up.

Lukas saw no choice but to shed the segment of Shadowsteel armor and harden a scrap of the Shade’s Mantle to replace it. He fired a barrage of spikes at them as he strafed, dodging the following projectiles. Lukas didn’t expect any of them to hit. As a result, none of them covered lightning magic. One grazed an illusory watcher, and it exploded into pink flames. Unlike the previously ineffective fireball, the magic scorched the surrounding black stones.

Illusion or real? The arcane signatures of everything she conjures are fucking identical.

Meanwhile, the Stalker had already eliminated one of the guards. He lay on the ground with his head coated in Quicksilver and a giant Shadowsteel shard sticking out of his chest. Another had lost an arm, but Lukas could also feel the Stalker struggling to maintain stability. Scorch marks surrounded the ground around him, and a luminous crystalline spark stuck out of his back.

Bowie’s lute played in the distance. Its soft notes filled his ears, and a soothing calm came with them. He also danced as he played his instrument, moving with his eyes closed and just about missing all incoming projectiles. It seemed two of the five copies were targeting him. Another pair followed and targeted Lukas. The last of them backed up the soldiers fighting the Stalker.

A Shadow Step took Lukas to cover, breaking the line of sight again. He created a Shadow Illusion nearby and waited until there were projectiles flying toward it before emerging with electrified Shadowsteel javelins ready. He launched them at the pair who were initially targeting him. A crystal wall rose out of the floor, blocking both projectiles. The third punched through the barrier and pierced the mage.

A shriek burst from her lips before she rushed at Lukas, fuchsia flame wings bursting from her back. He prepared two more javelins to launch at her, but before he could release them, a powerful blow struck his midriff. It had enough power to warp the Shadowsteel plates, folding him in half and winding him. Lukas dropped into the shadows, just about dodging the follow-up strike coming for his face. There was a fifth mage’s guard he had missed.

Or are there more?

As Lukas emerged, he realized one of his clones had perished. He summoned another Stalker and sent it into the opening. The skinny martial artist male attacked him. Another emerged from the shadows with a pair of scimitars to take him from the side. Meanwhile, the clone fell into a crouch, flaring Shade’s Mantle. Forked Shadowsteel spikes caught an incoming attack. Lightning discharged from it, shocking one of the attacking pair and stunning him.

Before the Stalker could capitalize on the opening, the martial artist descended on him. The kicks and punches warped the Shadowsteel armor but didn’t have as much effect as they did on Lukas. However, the Elder Wyrmkin successfully grappled the Stalker, and the other fell on him with the scimitars. Lukas didn’t support kamikaze tactics, but it didn’t look like there were many other options.

Lightning burst from the clone, and his Shadowsteel armor transformed into dozens of skinny spikes. They exploded outwards, sending the projectiles flying far and wide. A couple punched through the melee attackers, putting them down. Lukas begrudgingly summoned another clone. His magic stores were at less than a quarter of the maximum. He couldn’t afford to waste more clones or magic on expensive spells.

The Stalker fighting the melee fighters had fallen to the flying arcane copy of the mage. Lukas replaced the clone. It Shadow Stepped into the middle of the three males and used the element of surprise to skewer one through the chest, reducing their numbers to two.

A second Stalker emerged from the shadows to Lukas’s left and raced toward the mage and her clones. Only four remained. They focused their fire on him. He danced and weaved, parrying pink crystal javelins whenever possible with his Shadowsteel gauntlets and Dracosteel scales. The distraction was precisely what Lukas needed to prepare his spell.

This tale has been pilfered from NovelPhoenix. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Countless Shadowsteel spikes littered the ground around the mages. They hadn’t moved from their formation. Lukas couldn’t help but believe it had significance. If he had more time and a greater frontline, he would’ve taken the time to figure things out. Instead, he focused his spell around the spikes, pushing his mastery over shadows and Spellweaver to their limit. Darkness stretched through a Shadowgate at his feet through mini-openings under each spike. His arcane stores rapidly drained, and lightheadedness threatened to take him to his knees. Lukas just about managed to wrap the shadows around all four ankles before hardening them into wires. Lightning magic pulsed through them.

The four identical mages screamed. Lukas expected at least one to collapse, giving away the original. Instead, all four of them dissolved or exploded into bright pink flames. The potency reminded him of the Shamin in Iskander’s Undercity.

Three tents. Three top mages. Is it a council of shamans?

The journal vibrated, but Lukas ignored it. Instead, he extended his senses, hunting for any anomalies. The mage was somewhere nearby; he was sure of it. A sensitivity to draconic presences helped in the endeavor. He had Lady Silverspine to thank for the unique ability. It didn’t help him pinpoint her, but a moment of uninterrupted concentration helped him get a general idea of her presence. It was creeping toward Bowie, who had taken a blow to the calf and was ducking behind a giant fallen rock, still playing music and maintaining his spell.

Lukas gave up on subtlety. He rushed to the spot he had detected, leaving the Stalkers to take out the rest of the melee fighters, and launched a spray of storm-energy-charged needles into it. A soft cry told him he was on the right track. A pink shimmer out of the corner of his eye helped him find the Elder Wyrmkin mage.

It made sense why she hadn’t gone to the front lines. Her magic didn't appear well-suited for large-scale combat, especially if her own side couldn't tell the difference between reality and illusion. It seemed better for smaller skirmishes, deceit, and capturing intruders like him. Unlike his shadow clones, the dragonfire copies weren't particularly mobile. The magic didn't feel powerful enough for artillery spells either. At most, it would force opposing forces to waste their energy defending, but more talented individuals than him would figure out how to look through illusion and genuine copies.

Lukas couldn't help but wonder if he had missed some security feature around the spell circle meant to alert the mages of tampering or intrusion. The tents and structures around the spell circle shielded it well unless viewed from elevation.

Two copies of the mage stepped out of thin air, but he had blasts of sound magic waiting for them. Neither of them seemed to react to the sonic disruption. However, the air just behind them shimmered. Lukas hit the area with a sphere of lightning contained within humming sound energy. He could only hope the chaos around the beasts and Bowie’s barrier would sufficiently cover the noise.

Concussive blasts pulsed off the sphere, and lightning danced around it as he traveled. It was slow, but didn't have far to go. A crystal javelin shot past the spell, just about missing it, and struck Lukas’s chest just between where Shadowsteel plates met over his lower ribs. The tip made its way through puncturing skin and breaking bone. If not for the Deacosteel Scales, the tip scalding magic would’ve found his lungs.

The pain dropped Lukas to his knees, and a stream of pink flames struck the storm sphere, exploding it before it could reach its target. The spell exploded, releasing a concussive blast that threw Lukas onto its back, but also caught the enemy mage and her dragonfire copies. They exploded, and her invisibility field collapsed.

They were both on their backs when the cavern shook again. War horns sounded in the distance, and the temperature plummeted. Lukas knew what had caused it and didn’t have the time to think. Chunks of rock larger than him came crashing from above. He rolled out of the way, yelling in pain as the javelin tip stuck in him shifted. It was better than getting crushed by falling debris. There was more coming, and he felt one of the Stalkers get turned into mush under a bigger chunk. He fell into the shadows, emerging on his hands and knees near where the Elder Wyrmkin had fallen, using a Shadowsteel needle as the destination.

Fortunately, the Elder Wyrmkin hadn’t yet recovered. Lukas coughed up blood as he dragged himself to her. She turned her head toward him, and pink glowed under the grey scaly hide of her neck. He slammed his palm down on her face before she could release her dragonfire, releasing a pulse of raw, unrefined storm energy. It did the job, cooking her head inside and out. Scales charred, and pink fluid leaked from all of her orifices.

The Elder Wyrmkin’s skull exploded in pink flames as the still living Stalker arrived to help him up. “You okay, boss?”

“I think I broke a couple of ribs,” Lukas replied. His coughs left his mouth tasting metallic. “It’s not a complete waste, though.” He nodded at the dead mage’s chest. The dragonfire hadn’t stopped at her head and was now burning through her chest. A shard and two essence crystals sat within. “Check them for me.”

The Stalker summoned the journal and had it identify the shards before stashing them.

Shard of the Illusory Dragon

Essence of Dreamfire

Essence of Arcane Projection

There were also updates regarding the status of his abilities.

Spellweaver has reached Rank 7!

Spellweaver has reached Rank 8!

Stormdragon’s Eye has reached Rank 4!

Altered Metal Mass has reached Rank 2!

“We'd better get you out of here,” the Stalker said.

“Bowie can do that. I should also have just enough magic left for another Stalker.” Lukas glanced at the chaotic front. There was a reason Bowie’s barrier was still holding up, and no one had come back to assist the now-dead mage. The Jotun had arrived. Their force seemed small, but the Elder Wyrmkins were far from prepared. “Get to the artisans. Steal as much refined dracometal as you can and any documents or spellforms you can find among the workshops. If there is room afterward, I want the ore too.” He pointed at the wall above the vein. It had been reinforced with wood covered in runes. “Destroy the supports if possible. We need this buried.”

The Stalker hesitated, glancing between Lukas and the task. He only left after another Stalker rose from the shadows. The creation left Lukas faint.

“I’ll Shadow Step boss through the mess,” the new Stalker told his older counterpart. “Do your thing.”

“Fine.”

“I don’t think this will be easy,” the clone said once he and Lukas were alone. Giant chunks of stone were falling all around them.

“I’ve got an idea.” Lukas scanned their surroundings. Of the three giant tents, one was still standing. “Help me in there.”

Every step came with blinding pain and tears. The constant stabbing sensation in his side helped Lukas keep himself awake. The decorations and fabrics inside the tent were a bright pink, matching the Elder Wyrmkin he had not long slain. It was as he had guessed. She was one of the Shamins. His arcane senses drew him to a crate by the bed. A groan escaped Lukas’s lips as he kneeled to check its contents.

“Easy, boss. Just tell me what you need.”

“Are there any essences in there? I need something that’s rubbish. Something we’d never use or need.”

As luck would have it, there were three. Lukas’s vision had started to blur, and he couldn’t focus on the journal as the clone identified them. The Stalker held it up. “What now?”

“Escape Portal. I’m going to flee to the Grey.” A ring ripped open through the fabric of reality as the journal used its magic. He freed himself from the clone and almost stumbled, trying to get to it alone. When the Stalker tried to help him, Lukas pushed him away. “I can manage. You and Bowie get to Mira. Ensure she gets back to the Gray safe and Penelope doesn’t suck her into something else.”

“All of these essences are trash. Can’t I use Escape Portal to get her out too?”

“You have free rein.”