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Chapter 719: Pain
🕑 Added 2023-11-16 22:10:11 +0000 UTCAlexander Roth was no stranger to pain.
His parents’ deaths had dealt him a wound that would always cut to his very soul. McHarris, the Baker, had hit him more times than he could remember. Burn-saw’s blade left a deep scar on his flesh. Battles against greater demons in Cretalikon, and the Thameish church had wounded him in ways that went beyond physical pain.
Then, there was the Mark, a symbol placed on his skin that sought to drive him mad with mental anguish if he tried to oppose its will.
Alexander Roth was no stranger to pain.
This pain, however, was different.
Something was squeezing, wrapping around his soul, coils tightening. It reached down to his very essence, grasping Hannah’s power, crushing it like an iron gauntlet around his throat.
His knees buckled, lungs reflexively gasping for air.
“Father!” Claygon shouted. “Father…are you alright?”
The wizard’s mind reeled. He gasped for air.
Theresa screamed, drawing her swords.
Brutus’ bulk swelled as he encased himself in bone armour.
Something blurred between the trees.
Alex’s eyes flew wide; a form clad in plate armour inscribed with holy scripture, and a white surcoat emblazoned with Uldar’s hand, was there. In one gauntlet, it gripped a blade blazing with divine power. In the other, a shield, painted with two symbols; the first was Uldar’s white hand…
…the second, the balanced scales of the Chosen.
The First Apostle.
And his sword was thrusting.
Time seemed to slow.
Alex watched—moment by agonising moment—as the blade’s point drove at his heart. The Traveller’s power struggled within him; his body turned, rolling from the blow…but, oh so slow.
Much too slow.
The point was mere inches from his chest.
Theresa struck, her blades slipping into the divine weapon’s path, her lips parted in a scream, cinched hair whipping behind.
Both swords of the Twinblade struck the First Apostle’s steel, scraping its upper edge, narrowly keeping it from its goal.
His blade drove lower, pointing downward, away from Alex’s heart…
…plunging into his gut. A scream wrenched from the young wizard’s throat as steel sliced rock hard muscle, plunging deep into his body. The First Apostle grunted, twisting the blade, tearing it from the side of Alex’s belly.
Agony and blood became the Fool of Thameland’s world; his insides burned hot, yet seemed to freeze all at the same time. Snow turned from white to bright red where the wizard had collapsed.
Theresa was screaming. The twinblade seemed to shriek with her.
In a blur of fury and vengeance, the huntress leapt onto the First Apostle, swords flashing. His single blade matched hers blow for blow, his shield dancing in front of her strikes. Metal clashed with metal. Snow sprayed through the air.
Slash marks crisscrossed Theresa’s body as the holy man’s blade struck through her guard. Wounds were dealt faster, deeper. The huntress clenched her teeth, but he was tearing her apart. Every strike came with blurring speed and divine strength; each blow rang like thunder, driving her back on her heels.
Brutus roared in from the side, three sets of teeth flashing.
The First Apostle’s shield swung out, slamming into a set of the cerberus’ jaws.
There came a crack of metal on bone and the cerberus-familiar’s claws paws hugged the snow, anchoring his body, driving the full weight of his spiked bulk into the holy leader’s armoured form.
The Apostle’s sword snaked up, aiming for Brutus’ heads, but Theresa parried again, sending the blade wide, yet deep into the cerberus’ side. Bone armour blunted the blow, though the blade still connected, spraying red through the air.
Claygon’s war-spear thrust forward, but the holy warrior spun away, escaping the blow. Theresa slid along the snow to the First Apostle’s flank while Brutus circled his other side, then Claygon, the huntress and cerberus leapt on the ancient Chosen of Uldar with full fury.
Alex was growing colder, blood ran from the ragged hole in his body; fear reached into his spirit like tendrils.
He’d witnessed this before.
The Heroes, fighting against the First Apostle, closing on him from all sides. Hart’s might and speed, Cedric’s power, Drestra’s draconic form aligned with Thundar’s magic…yet things hadn’t worked in their favour; they’d been no match for the ancient warrior of Uldar.
He’d ripped them apart, and was now doing the same to Alex’s companions.
Theresa screamed as the First Apostle sliced a deep cut in her arm moments after leaving a gaping wound along the side of one of Brutus’ heads. It was only Claygon that saved them.
He was faster since his last evolution, his body was stronger, sturdier. Unyielding. The First Apostle’s blade and shield collided with the golem’s form, but they merely scratched the towering construct. There was a time when a single one of his blows had shattered Claygon’s body.
But now, the only damage that Uldar’s servant could manage to inflict was a scratch.
“Die!” the golem’s words—distorted and frightening through his voice box—screamed through the night. “Die! Die…die!”
“No,” the First Apostle said, leaning away from the war-spear’s path. He ducked iron fists, blocked Brutus’ teeth with his shield, and took Theresa’s blades on his armoured side, slicing her other arm.
‘He’s going to kill them,’ Alex’s mind screamed. ‘Do something!’
His hand…something heavy lay in it. Waves of horror, terror and grief were flooding from it, coursing through him. The thoughts were coming from outside; not from his own mind.
His eyes drifted to his hand. The aeld staff. He was still holding it in his right hand, and it screamed in his mind.
‘Have to…do something…’ he thought, his body growing colder, weaker. His vision blurred, like a fog descending on him. Something inside was shrieking, telling him to heal himself, preserve his own life.
He drew on the staff’s power.
But, did not heal himself; he cast haste magic on Theresa, instead. The huntress’ speed doubled, and the Twinblade became a whirlwind of steel. This slowed the wounds spreading across the huntress’ body, yet seemed to trouble the First Apostle as much as a fly buzzing around a dragon. Alex cast haste on Claygon next, but the divine warrior’s steel slipped around the golem’s blows, though they were coming close to clipping him.
The young wizard tried raising his staff, wanting to cast haste on Brutus, but his grip was failing. He tried again, digging deeper, clenching his teeth, finally succeeding. Now, those fighting the First Apostle could move at double speed, yet, the holy warrior still carved into Theresa and Brutus’ like he was slicing a Sigmus bird.
Alex had bought them time, but only precious seconds.
Suddenly, he was turned on his back.
“Hey! Hey!” a familiar voice cried.
Alex blinked; Birger’s ancient, bearded face filled his sight. The firbolg’s hot breath washed over his face. Giant hands pressed on the young wizard’s gaping wound.
“Get us out of here!” the giant shouted. “Bjorgrund can’t hold them off for much longer!”
Hold who off?
Alex’s eyes turned, finding the young giant in a fight for his life.
He stood above his father and Alex, protecting them, swinging his woodcutter’s axe with abandon. All around, warriors of the church attacked. The young giant bled from a mass of wounds, deep enough to claim a human’s life, but thankfully, he was not human, and kept fighting on.
Holy warriors stabbed at him with their spears, struck his body with halberds, quickly scurrying from reach. He fought back, striking some, launching them through the air, breaking skin and bone, yet, they did not remain down for long. Their fellows quickly attended them.
Healing divinity pressed into them, bringing them back to fighting form.
At a distance, holy warriors shot volleys of arrows at the struggling giant…or perhaps it was Alex they were aiming for, while Bjorgrund blocked them with his body; his back was resembling a porcupine’s.
The young wizard’s eyes were fixed on two archers.
One was the figure of the Third Apostle, with a beard as white as his surcoat…the other…
…a majestic bull moose, nostrils puffing, releasing golden steam. Bells rang on his branching antlers, the merry sound mingling with the sounds of battle. The man astride the beast’s back had an otherworldly cast to his skin, like frostbite and blueberry stains.
Mistletoe, blood-red holly, and other Sigmus plants were braided through his snow-white beard and scarlet clothing. No saddle burdened the moose’s back.
A deep frown creased the rider’s face and his faded grey eyes gleamed in irritation. His body language raised a primal fear in the young wizard’s core; the type of fear that took hold of a mouse the moment it caught a snake’s eye.
Instinctual terror on seeing its predator.
Alex knew him; the Guide who’d worked with the Heroes. The predatory fae who’d come to the Research Castle after the petrifier attack.
The fae that Gwyllain, the asrai, had warned him about.
“Disappointing,” the Guide’s lips formed the word.
“Focus!” Birger shouted, drawing the wizard’s gaze back to him.
Brutus yelped.
Theresa shrieked in pain.
“Stop…it!” Claygon shouted.
“We have to hurry, holy leader!” the Third Apostle shouted. “We are running out of time!”
Alex gripped the aeld staff, clenched his jaw, and grit his teeth. “Keep…pressure…on my wound… I’ll try to teleport.” His words to Birger were muffled.
He reached for the Traveller’s power, struggling against the interdiction. It squeezed down on his soul…but the grip seemed looser. There were cracks in its defences; gaps where the Traveller’s power could squirm free.
He called on the Mark as he pushed against the First Apostle’s power, looking for weaknesses. It guided him, showing him gaps in the interdiction’s defences as he tried and tried to squirm free of its hold.
Agony erupted in his leg as an arrow planted itself deep in his leg. Only sheer force of will kept his mind focused on the Traveller’s power through his scream.
The power flickered.
A gap was in reach.
Gnashing his teeth and centering his will, Alex forced Hannah’s energy into the gap.
The power flared.
With a growl of pain, he touched Bjorgrund as Birger’s hands pressed the wound, he teleported to Theresa.
…or tried.
He’d moved only a slight distance—perhaps a half foot—closer to the First Apostle’s deadly melee.
“How is that possible?” the Third Apostle cried.
“Yeeeeeess!” the Guide shouted. “Now this is the quarry I was hoping for! I might need to step in—Oof, or maybe not.”
The words of an incantation surged from behind the First Apostle’s visor, he fended off his three opponents.
Alex tried teleporting again, determined to reach his family, but moved only a half pace closer.
The First Apostle completed the spell.
A bead of orange light swept from the tip of his sword and arced toward Theresa’s face. The huntress flinched, sweeping her sword up, parrying the light with her Twinblade. The bead shot past her shoulder, floating behind her.
Her blade was too high.
Her enemy’s sword came down, slashing her legs.
Theresa’s scream travelled through the forest, ripping into Alex’s soul, her trousers reddened, wicking fresh blood.
Brutus’ leapt forward, jaws stopping a follow-up cut aimed at her neck. The cerberus—his armour cracked and bleeding—clamped down on the First Apostle’s arm; Claygon drove his war-spear at the Chosen of Uldar.
“Blast it!” the First Apostle cursed, slipping under the golem’s blow, then kicking Theresa hard in the chest. Bone cracked, she sailed backward…
…into the bead of flame.
It exploded.
The huntress burned.
For an instant, Theresa’s form was replaced by a burning alehouse.
“Noooo!” Alex screamed, throwing everything he had at the interdiction with the Traveller’s power.
The First Apostle twisted from Brutus’ grip, rushing Alex.
Hannah’s power struggled against the divinity it was facing. He pushed, again teleporting with Bjorgrund and Birger, moving past the First Apostle, appearing just out of reach of Theresa.
She writhed free of the flickering flames, teeth clenched, flesh scorched.
And grabbed his hand.
Alex teleported again. ‘Grab onto me…Claygon…’ he thought.
The golem turned away from the First Apostle—the holy warrior kept slashing at his iron back—grabbed Brutus and touched Alex. Coughing blood and struggling to stay conscious, the Fool of Thameland teleported again.
This time a dozen paces away.
With a growl of frustration, the First Apostle leapt after them.
Alex teleported again, appearing twice the distance away.
“We must go, holy leader!” the Third Apostle shouted. “We cannot risk staying any longer!”
“Retreat!” The First Apostle ordered, “but shoot them!”
Arrows cut through the air, deflecting off Claygon’s iron body.
Alex teleported again, trying desperately to save his family and new companions.
He felt the grip of the interdiction slip from his soul.
“We’re past…that circle…of dirt…” Theresa choked, her skin smouldering.
The Traveller’s power flared again.
Alex teleported well away from the ambush.
###
“Back to the fae gate, my lovely hounds!” the Stalker called, a grin spreading across his lips. With a whistle, he nodded to the circle of Thameish earth. Sanctified soil shuddered, swarming from the snow, retreating through the fae gate with the holy warriors of Uldar.
The dangerous fae, with an untold number of names, sat atop his moose and rubbed his hands together. “That youngster slipped away from us. But, there’s something I’ll tell you fine hounds; your Fool is my type of quarry! Next time, I might even get a chance to step in, oh yes indeed!”
Together, he and the hidden members of Uldar’s church slipped away, disappearing back into the fae wilds.
Leaving behind only disturbed, red snow, spent arrows, and a grain or two of loose soil. The only remnants of the terrible battle that had just taken place.
###
Author's Note
Hello thirty-seven cool fools, almighty chosen, wise sages, and mighty champions! Thank you for your support!
This chapter might be one of the darkest in all of Fool. I think I'll let it speak for itself.
Cya tomorrow!
Comments
MinE
Honestly he would have better luck just trying to teleport them upside down. Can you imagine being randomly upside down.
MinE
Stalker has definitely been outside of thaneland and probably this world. First Apostle is actually just an experienced god blessed; every god probably has at least one follower near his level.
Josh Cothran
I wonder if he’s tried teleporting people into space yet. Because…it’s not a direct attack. Not his fault they need oxygen and can’t fly
Nick
He was getting hit he was just blocking it all with his sword and shield.
Nick
They called on their gods power in another pantheons domain. Pretty sure they are running from other envoys.
Blightdad
Took their shot and missed, hope their defeat is resounding
Daniel is ŁØNE
Yeah, the thieves guild is absolutely fucked and I can't wait to see Alex showcase why you never piss off a wizard. Warder cannot fathom how screwed he is, and if he thinks he can escape to their base he doesn't realize how easy it would be for an apostle to track the abilities of his god.
MockingBird
Well that was nerve wracking. Generasi is to far to teleport to directly right? So where the hell is he gonna pop up that has a healer?
good guy
Meh, was fairly boring
SherbertSheep
really loved this chapter even though it was so hard to see them so helpless in the ambush. cant wait to see how they prepare for the next fight and what they end up doing to get back at the thieves guild. im excited to see how they react to their first experience being overwhelmed so thoroughly with their new strength.
JYonder
Theresa better not die. All I can say - at this point the Stalker and First Apostle seem unrealistically powerful. Everyone has to have some weakness(es) and I have a hard time believing they’re somehow more powerful than Greater demons but have been content to just stay within the bounds of Thameland.
SherbertSheep
The staff was screaming at him to heal himself but he used the time instead to haste theresa and claygon. he deliberately buffed them instead of healing himself in order to keep them safe. its mentioned that by sheer force of will could he stay focused on teleporting through the damage he had taken. he was in a bad state and will presumably heal himself as soon as he can but in this ambush he had to make a choice and that choice likely kept theresa alive and claygon enough of a threat to buy them the time needed for the firbolgs to come help.
mant06
The secret church had to retreat from something, and they left a bit of the dirt from Uldar's ascension point behind. By the way is it just me or, has Alex a bit of an interesting fortune. Where at first it looks as if his enemies get lucky against him, but instead cause their own eventual defeat.
George R
Thanks for the chapter
Morcant
I don't even have words for the amount of pain this chapter has caused me.
Adunn
Well the Red Mouse is screwed.
LEMON
The stalker fae just wants to play with his game though even if it puts him at a disadvantage. The chase isn't fun if your game dies from yhe first attack is probably what he thinks
Revan694
First, great chapter. I'm not trying to say it isn't. But it's really hard to write about a person taking on several people at the same time. Brutus is 3 attacks at the same time, Theresa is competent, Claygon is also competent. I'm not trying to down grade them, but there's a point in proficiency when you can hit what you aim at. Claygon, Thesesa, and Brutus can normally hit things they aim at. If they are a master it also means they are competent. Unless the first apostle is so fast he literally can't be hit... why hasn't he been hit? I understand dodging, and reaction times... but he got in close enough to stab Alex with a sword... You might want to put some emphasis on holy power behind that or some special move. Otherwise the murder hobo (I'm glad this stereo type can fit) could have just stabbed everyone since he was fast enough. Teleporting to Alex makes more sense, he couldn't have run up to the group and stabbed Alex otherwise...
Julien Fellegara
Could he not use blood magic to heal himself ? I don't like this chapter too much, feel a bit fake. My 2 cents. Probably my first time feeling that way on this awesome story.
Damian
They showed their hand, now Alex can stay prepared for later. Keep a summoned dangerous creature on him at all times.
Fleetpanda
In a world with gods and miracles and magic it’d be completely unnecessary for her to be crippled. If Alex and everyone allied with him can’t help her, then Baelin will. As for if she’s dead, if this is how she dies I seriously hope there’s a rewrite. The trap didn’t even make sense.
Isiah Debarros
I can't wait to see what's gonna happen with the thieves
Voror
Oof I'm not sure how Teresa is coming out of that. I'm genuinely curious if we see her die or permanently crippled. It was cool he could actually get through the interdiction even a little and the sheer astonishment from the Third was nice too. Hope the Stalker gets the tables turned soon. I genuinely don't know what Alex does now. He needs to figure out the mark or he's doomed. He simply doesn't have the capability to fight these people with those restrictions in place. His guard may be up now but it doesn't change things there. Plus now that this failed I could see other deaths coming as they start looking to kill the secondary targets. I imagine that includes the heroes and key figures of the research team.
LEMON
Looks like alex has to get some backup, learn some soul related spells or fix the mark
mhaj58
They took their shot and they missed. I hope Alex learns to vivisection the stalker.
Bob Bryan
Do you know the thing about traps. They only work once. If you so not finish your enemy in that first go. You are immediately on the back foot, because they will not be fooled again.
