The Doctor’s voice echoed through the wreckage of Sentinel like a serpent’s hiss, dripping with venom. “Your bravado is adorable, Archon. Really, it is. But do you ever tire of these theatrics? Do you not see how futile your resistance is?”
Ethan smirked, leaning casually on Greybane’s hilt as if the chaos around him were merely background noise. “You know, Doc,” he said, his voice calm but cutting, “that’s your problem. You don’t get out much. You’ve got all this power, all these toys, but no real friends. Just puppets. And that’s why you’ve lost.”
Haylock’s laughter rang out, brittle and harsh. “Lost? Oh, my dear Archon, have you not noticed? I hold this town. I hold their lives.” His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. “Do you honestly think you can save them?”
As if on cue, the townspeople’s convulsions intensified. Their bodies jerked violently, and their mouths opened in soundless screams. Ethan’s smirk faltered as he saw the blood-red veins spiderwebbing across their skin, the Doctor’s control tightening like a noose. For a moment, silence fell over the ruins, broken only by the crackle of distant fires and the rustle of debris in the wind.
Then, from deep within the earth, a cry shattered the stillness.
It began as a low rumble, like the groan of ancient stone shifting beneath their feet. The ground trembled, sending shockwaves through the shattered cobblestones of Sentinel’s streets. Ethan’s head snapped toward the Albion tree at the center of the town, its branches quivering with unnatural energy.
The cry rose in pitch, a sound both primal and triumphant, reverberating through the very marrow of the earth. A fissure split the ground near the Albion tree, and from its depths emerged a figure cloaked in living foliage, his eyes blazing with green fire.
“Malak…” Ethan whispered.
The ancient druid stood tall, his gnarled staff raised high above his head. Around him surged an army of Drytchlings, their bark-like bodies glistening with dew and their glowing eyes fixed on the Spectators hidden among the town’s ruins. Behind them came the druids of Triant Grove, their chants weaving through the air like a tapestry of power. The Drytchlings moved with lethal precision, their limbs morphing into jagged weapons that struck down the Spectators one by one.
“For the Grove!” Malak roared, his voice like a storm tearing through the heavens.
The Drytchlings echoed his cry, their voices a symphony of rage and determination. They swarmed the Spectators hiding in the shadows of the town’s crumbling buildings. Each blow landed with the force of centuries of nature’s wrath, reducing the once-menacing Flesh Golems to lifeless husks.
Ethan’s gaze snapped to the nearest Spectator, its lone, unblinking eye fixed on him. The creature stumbled, its body jerking uncontrollably as the Doctor’s control began to fray. Ethan seized the moment, rushing forward and driving Greybane into the Spectator’s torso. The blade pulsed with dark energy, and for a brief second, the Doctor’s voice shrieked in Ethan’s mind.
“Look at your broken toys, Doc,” Ethan snarled, his voice low and venomous. “This is your future. When we find you, you’ll meet the same sticky end.”
The Spectator convulsed, its eye rolling wildly before it collapsed into a heap of twisted flesh and metal. Ethan stood over its remains, his chest heaving as he turned his gaze toward the Albion tree.
Malak stood at its base, his staff planted firmly in the earth as he raised his arms in triumph. Around him, the Drytchlings and druids roared their victory, their voices harmonizing with the groaning of the Albion tree’s branches. The tree itself seemed to pulse with life, its dark, thorny bark glowing faintly with a verdant light.
The townspeople, now free of the Doctor’s control, stumbled toward the center of the town. Their eyes were wide with terror, their bodies trembling from the ordeal. They huddled together near the fountain, their expressions a mix of confusion and fear as they looked upon the Drytchlings and hybrids standing victorious.
“Corral them here,” Malak ordered his druids, his voice steady but commanding. “They’ve suffered enough. Let them know they are safe.”
Ethan sheathed Greybane, his eye scanning the terrified crowd. He could see their fear, their uncertainty. And for a moment, he wondered if they would ever see him as anything other than a monster.
“Ethan!” Fauna called, running toward him with Klax and Tara close behind. Her face was streaked with soot, but her eyes shone with relief. “We did it!”
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Ethan nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Yeah,” he said, though his voice lacked the conviction of triumph. “We did.”
Above them, the Albion tree swayed gently, its branches casting dappled shadows over the battered town. Malak raised his staff once more, his voice ringing out over the crowd.
“Sentinel has been freed!” he declared. “But our fight is far from over.”
The Drytchlings roared their agreement, their voices carrying the promise of vengeance against those who would dare to enslave them. Ethan looked up at the tree, its ancient presence a reminder of the power they had unleashed.
They’d won the battle, sure. But this war – a new war that rivaled even his fight against the Lightborn – had only just begun.
…
Ethan sat in the Captain’s cabin of the Dauntless – the name of the steel-clad tug his team had plundered from the docks.
His oaken limbs croaked with ever move he made to wipe his face, and try to quiet the storm of his mind. Something compelled him to rip his hat form from this creature and just make these dark thoughts stop already.
He thought the end of the battle would signal the end of this…bloodlust. But it kept coming, in waves of lambent red that twisted his vision, coupled with flashes from the dream that had taunted him as he sank beneath the waves of sentinel.
Outside, rain thundered down on the world. He could hear the shouts and cries of the humans of Sentinel as they were herded towards the town center by Malak and the Drychlings. What was to be done with them…that was another story.
In truth, Ethan didn’t care right now. All he cared about was…power. More power.
Current Spirit Cores: 3550
Wing Buffet (Grade D)
(AOE) Repels enemies up to 50ft away who fail a STR check.
Grade C Upgrade: Repels enemies up to 100ft away who fail a STR check
Spirit Cores to increase: 250
Upgrade confirmed!
Grade B Upgrade: {Gale-Force-Gust} Unlocked! Wind Buffet now has a 30% chance to disarm affected enemies.
Spirit Cores to increase: 500
Upgrade Confirmed!
Dive (Grade C)
Dive DMG: 100
Dive can now be used to destroy objects of STR 60 or lower.
[Homing Dive] Dive now homes in on the targeted enemy/structure
Grade B Upgrade: {Twin-Dive] unlocked! Dive can be activated twice in quick succession
Spirit Cores to increase: 500
Upgrade confirmed!
Grade A Upgrade: Dive DMG now doubled: 200
Spirit Cores to increase: 1000
Upgrade confirmed!
Thorn Hail (Grade C)
You summon an arc of deadly thorns, each piercing opponents with armor equivalent to {Adamantine} and dealing 100 pts of DMG.
Grade B Upgrade: {Thorn Storm} unlocked!
Thorn Hail now occupies a 50ft area of your choosing, affecting all targets who move in this zone.
Spirit Cores to increase: 750
Upgrade confirmed!
Current Spirit Cores: 800
Wing Buffet and Dive had done him well ever since he gained them from the dark raven so many moons ago, and Thorn Hail was possibly his best AOE skill. The Cores from Thaddeus had been put to good use. Now that he knew he could merge multiple skills together, forcing his body to push past the limits his mind set on it, he could wreak havok on the Doctor and his castle of horrors. He could –
Ethan.
Sys’s voice broke through his thoughts. And – somewhat disgustingly – it was tinged with sympathy.
Ethan, what you did out there…
“It won us the fight,” Ethan replied, clutching his still thumping head.
It is not something any System User would attempt. The pain from combining so many skills...you feel it, don’t you?
Ethan grimaced. “Well, lucky for us, I’m not just any System User, am I? I’m the Archon. We’re the Archon. And I’m not gonna let anything hold me back. Not anymore.”
Lightning streaked the skies outside the cabin. Ethan heard footsteps nearby. Muffled voices shared worries – the voices of his hybrid team.
He looked away. As he was right now, he couldn’t tell what would happen if he faced them.
Sys, he thought. What’s happening to me?
More thunder punctuated Sys’ reply.
You are pushing your Host to its limits, he said. Some creatures of Argwyll are not meant to wield so much power. You are a different kind of Archon from the rest, Ethan. Your power comes from overpowering another and energizing its body with skills the Host has never once used. Even Boss-level creatures may suffer under such strength. And when that happens, pieces of themselves may start to break through your control.
Ethan blinked, and gave a curt nod. He had suspected as much.
“My possession ability lets me see the memories of my Hosts”, he said. “And you’re saying that this – the visions I’m seeing and the…thoughts I’m thinking…”
Correct, Sys whispered in his mind. They are the dreams of your Host. Manifestations of the mind that you control. For some reason, this particular Host has a great strength of will. It seems to be trying…to break through you.
Ethan thought back to the visions that had swam before his mind in the wake of the battle, ever since he’d walked among humankind with his Drychling Prime form. He looked at his reflection – its reflection – in the waters outside the cabin and thought, for a moment, that he could see fear in its glowing green eyes.
He remembered vividly the memory it had shown him. Of joy, of fear, and finally – hate. All centered on one specific person.
“No,” Ethan replied, suddenly understanding. “No – that’s not it. It’s trying to tell me something.”
He rose and marched towards the door, staggering slightly as he willed his body to move again.
Sys swayed with him, for once more confused than he was.
What? was all he said.
“I don’t know, yet,” Ethan replied. “But I know who can help me find out.”
So much battle...so much chaos.
And there's only more to come.
How will Ethan and his party assault Griffon's Watch? What's going on with Ethan's memories?
And wait a minute...while all this is happening, what's going on with the Greycloaks?
Find out the answers to all these questions and more right now by joining the Patreon...Book 2 is only 6 chapters away from being completed.
