ZachSkye
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Knives & Levels - Chapter 64
🕑 Added 2025-02-14 20:33:40 +0000 UTCDenny tried to spawn more of those golden chains. Colt jumped away, already having seen the trick performed on Jimmy. Those little chains could do a lot of damage without his dagger, especially since they carried the weight of authority and control. While he could form a cut on his hands or feet—randomly spouting an invisible wave of death from other less concentrated parts was still beyond him, and even using his hands… The power was reduced and drew more power for less results.
He pulled the hood of his black cloak down further, hiding his face from the man in charge.
It took too long to focus, and it took too much will compared to using a weapon that cut naturally resonated with.
Denny laughed as he scampered away. Another golden chain shot from his hand, catching one of the loops on Jimmy and yanking him straight to the governor. Colt felt the movement, his eyes focused as he pulled at Movement. In a flash, he was there, his Edict wrapped around his hand, cutting through the chain, and then, as he focused his force, going beyond, freeing Jimmy from his bonds.
Colt steadied his friend as Movement drifted away, his breath heavy from entwining Movement and the force he had to exert to manifest Cut.
“Attacking my city and daring to try to abduct one of my citizens?”
“Your prisoner!” Colt yelled back, his mind running a mile a minute as he went through all the possibilities; Jimmy started crying in his arms.
Oddly, with his senses so honed, he stopped hearing the struggling Minotaur beneath the dirt; no more thundering, no more of it trying to free itself. Why?
“I don’t know who you think you are, but we will not tolerate this, an affront to our precious city.” Denny widened his arms, shaking his head. His voice carried through the crowd, this too, tinted with his Edict. Pressing into minds and making them have that bit more of a sway.
Then Colt saw the why. His attack had opened up a hole in the city itself—people were crying out, guards were rushing to handle the collateral, and now, person by person, they were accumulating and had begun a small audience. Fear. Horror. Their safe zone had, for the first time since the foundation of New Nashville, been violated and attacked, not even by a monster, but by a person.
Colt recoiled, holding the crying Jimmy.
His heart hammered, his guts twisting, and his eyes honing on that smile on Denny’s face. This was his plan all along. He didn’t know how, but he wanted to use Colt. Another tool to firm his control on his city—he wasn’t afraid. He needed an attack from someone who could do this scale of damage.
And now, he’d pulled his Minotaur back, having got exactly what he wanted.
“He’s using you! I didn’t mean—“
“My good citizens, we’ve been attacked. This is why we put so much effort into our defenses; the outsider world is no longer safe. It’s full of people who would see us do harm. We will not stand for this.” Denny announced, his voice spiraling loudly to a chorus of yells between the people of the city.
Colt didn’t have a plan. The screams of the people from above condemning him; he tightened his grip on Jimmy, and his eyes ran through the options. Walls. He could get through them, but Jimmy? No.
And then there was that damned broken dagger in his hand. Hard to cut through a horde of guards who were driven by righteous anger at an invader. Even if he’d had his dagger, that particular slaughter felt like a difficult pill to swallow.
“Jimmy,” He began, looking at his stilled friend.
Jimmy’s eyes narrowed, and he stopped shaking. “Leave me, Colt.” He said.
“I can’t.”
“You have to. There’s nothing else you can do here,” he whispered, and his voice broke. Shivering in his hands, Jimmy stared up at Denny “Come back. Free us when you’re stronger. Free all of us.”
Colt searched for another option; there weren’t any, and the guards were pouring in from the sides, leering down at them.
A familiar face was among them; it was Nick. He’d left the dungeon? Colt thought the man had stayed to grind.
Finally—maybe—
Nick summoned a bow of light, a stillness on his face; within that next heartbeat, he’d pulled an arrow onto the bowstring. The tip of the arrow is pointed down at the hole at Colt. His eyes burned with anger and a scowl on his face. When did he get back?
As he took in Colt, he saw the anger morph further, the scowl grow more severe. The rest might be confused by the effects of the cloak. But Nick knew. He’d known the real reason they’d gone into the Dungeon to begin with, and now he knew the only person that this could be.
Yet his arrow was still pointed at Colt.
He felt a war across his face as he stared down that arrow, as he knew without a doubt that Nick had made his decision and betrayed him.
Fuck you, Nick.
Colt’s heart gave a beat. He took one last look at Jimmy. His skill set… It didn’t give him the kind of power needed to deal with this, to save his friend.
“We’ll string this invader up! No one threatens our city!” Denny screamed.
Now or never. The only real tactical way out of this was to straight up flee, a retreat to return another day.
Fine. It was FINE. He would be back.
Colt screamed and then pulled at Movement; the world slowed to a crawl. Denny began to react, barely, three golden swords forming near his hand.
Colt sped out of the hole, his heart hammering as his soul yanked—there wasn’t time to get in a hit against the man, as much as he wished it. The Minotaur had already exhausted him, and to get out of here, he’d need every last ounce of strength he had.
Colt reached the top, and Movement began to slip away as he started to run. He felt other Edicts press against him from the guards, Denny—Nick, whomever. They were lesser things, like little fishes in the pond.
But enough of them, paired with his already drained soul, stripped him of the rest of Movement.
The second the world returned to normal, he felt Edict soaring as his back, he turned, condensing willing on his hand and letting out a slash—groaning as sweat ran off him from the Cut.
His invisible blade met the golden swords in the arm just in time for an arrow of light to slam into his shoulder with a spark of pain, fire, and blood. His arm went numb below the attack, and yet he let the pain hone him and restore focus.
Colt let out a cry—soaring above and rapidly to his position was the Wind Mage, with his own set of Edicts pressing in.
He could no longer see Jimmy abandoned in the hole from his vantage point. His entire being shook with the injustice and impotent anger that he wasn’t enough to prevent this. Colt turned and yanked at what little fuel he had left in his Soul, pouring it all into Movement, contesting the rest of the piled Edicts trying to have sway on his influence.
The world slowed.
For all that Colt was worth, he ran, darting past buildings, slipping through the filling streets—people were still as statues, frozen in time as he sent everything he could to the moment. Knowing he had to get out of here, or they and his friend were doomed to this damned city.
Colt cleared New Nashville, rushing down the yard lines of the football court on the little bit of green left that had yet to be converted to living space. Time was in limited supply; he reached the wall as his last dregs of Movement began to slip away again.
Looking back, he saw the considerable distance he'd managed to put between himself and the rest of the city. It was enough of a lead.
The cost was hammering in his heart, and he felt like he was about to tip into the abyss of death; now, though, he wasn’t going to die at the hands of all of the soldiers.
Colt cursed one last time, part of his mind still back there in the pit. Wondering what he could’ve done differently to have made it work.
Whatever, it didn't matter. As soon as he touched the stadium wall, he phased through it. More notifications popped up that he dismissed, and Colt kept going, spiraling forward—every wall he came across was another phase. His body turned incorporeal, and at the same time, he pulled whatever he had left of it, making sure he made it through the plates of steel.
Colt was in the interior of the stadium.
Behind him, through these plates of steel, were his pursuers who, given a single second, would rip him to shreds.
Colt pressed forward through another wall, then another.
Each took a heavy tax as he exerted another jolt of movement to get through them. Stumbling as he went, the combination of pain and exhaustion weighed on him like a crushing burden.
Sweat ran from Colt’s head as he finally got out to the light of the day once again—he saw immediately guards scrambling, the sun up; he took a step, his body jolting and staggering as he went. The pain from his hand with the shattered dagger and his shoulder bled and burned.
Colt saw guards coming—his hand straightening as another cut wrapped around it. He didn’t want to hurt them.
But at this point he was readily being stripped of options. The Wind Mage could fly over the wall and get to him, and he’d run out of enough energy to use another pull of Movement.
Colt braced, his heart torn over seeing Nick and having to abandon his friend. Now this.
A stream of water crashed into the group of guards, slamming them against the stadium wall—Julia came rushing out, her eyes scanning left and right as the groaning soldiers lay on the ground not far away.
“C’mon! You’re supposed to be the sneaky one; we need to go! We split up—the others are checking for exit points, you’re lucky I found you, but we need to go!”
Colt stared at her dimly, the words registering but running off like a cold drink from his tired brain.
She shot another high-pressure stream at one of the guys who dared to stand up and take a step in that direction; this time, she ran the rest of the way, grabbing Colt by the hand and pulling him a step or two. That was enough to snap him out of his fatigue and heartbreak, focusing on one step at a time.
With her to lead, they ran, fleeing the outskirts of the stadium and back into the Misty Nashville surrounding it.
Street by street, he stumbled and dragged himself; Julia shoved them into a building once they got a few streets away, her eyes watching the windows. Once, Colt thought he heard guards outside, but they, too, disappeared. Their water mage looked over him the entire time—conjuring water for him to drink, checking his head.
As he rested against a wall, he let the notifications appear, seeing the results of the battle.
———
Soul And Mind Fortitude (Intermediate) has gained a level!
Soul And Mind Fortitude (Intermediate) has gained a level!
Thread Weaver (Basic) has gained a level!
Thread Weaver (Basic) has gained a level!
———
The advancements felt meaningless in the light of the defeat. His friend was stuck there—maybe he’d abandoned him to death or worse. And here he was, too useless to act. To free him and the rest of the poor people under Denny’s heel.
Colt closed his eyes, his soul spent and ached. The pain dwelled as a dull thrum. Julia kept watch as the hours passed. The girl didn’t have much to say. The occasional guard swept by, but nothing confronted them.
Reclined against a wall and exhausted beyond belief. Eventually, Colt fell asleep.
When he woke up, it was dark. Julia was there, leading him out of the house to their meeting point to reunite with the rest of the group.
Colt felt no better after the minor rest. Exhausted and defeated, he got to his feet anyway at the behest of the water mage.
It hurt. He still saw Jimmy back in the hole, still saw Nick pointing the arrow and bow, felt where he’d slammed it into him in an act of betrayal. That hurt the worst. He’d kicked the whole nest of New Nashville and for nothing.
Colt’s head sank as he let Julia take charge, leading them through the dark streets and to their agreed-upon meeting spot with the rest of the group.
Comments
KipBR
Wow, that was unexpected.
